Make Me Read Free Page B

sweatshirts, then?” he said with a smirk. He couldn’t help himself.
    She shifted, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Thanks for the sandwich.”
    “You’re welcome.” He took a bite and watched her nibble at hers. “You know, my Nana wouldn’t be happy with me if I let you go without feeding you and making sure you had everything you needed.”
    “I told you not to worry.”
    “Well then, maybe you should let me invite you to stay here.” He took another bite. “Unless you can convince me that you have somewhere else to stay.”
    She huffed. “What? Do you want me to say that I don’t have any friends here in New York?” Rebecca paused, before continuing in a defensive tone. “Well, I don’t. I work like crazy, and this city isn’t the friendliest place to try to fit in.” She covered her mouth with one of the napkins, as though a bat had just flown out.
    Manny just stared and then finally blinked. He hadn’t seen that outburst coming. “You know you’re kind of making it hard to be the hero here.”
    “A sandwich and an offer to sleep on your futon and now I owe you something?”
    He shook his head, scratching absently at the back. “I don’t know what just happened, but you’re making my head hurt.”
    He watched her frown and then bite her lip as the flash of anger pinching her delicate features dissipated into something more like fear. Everything about her spelled pain-in-the-ass right down to the prissy, if not filthy, strappy high heels she wore. High maintenance wasn’t his first choice when it came to women—not normally—but something about this stubborn, pouting, knockout of a rain-drenched ex-tenant of his grandmother’s had him reconsidering.
    “OK, listen. If you’re worried about me being some kind of psycho killer, here’s the number to my probation officer. He’ll totally vouch for me.” He watched her closely, holding back the grin begging to break free on his lips. One side of his mouth curled, and he arched an eyebrow at her.
    “You could be a psycho killer,” she said, taking another careful bite of her sandwich.
    “I could have sniffed your panties too,” he said with a shrug. He lost it on the outraged look she flashed him, laughing hard enough to need to cover his mouth. “But I didn’t. I promise.”
    She pressed her lips together and narrowed her eyes.
    “Really,” he snorted. “I was only joking with you. Should have seen the look on your face.”
    “You’re an asshole,” she said, fighting her own grin and losing the battle.
    “Hey, at least get to know me before you come to that conclusion,” Manny said, winking at her. He stood up. “I bought some cookies at the bakery too. They make the best fudge-chocolate chip concoction.” He felt her following him with her eyes, and when he turned back to look, there they were, big and gray, with a clarity that made his hairs stand up. “What do you say? Are you in for cookies?”
    “In for a penny, in for a pound, I guess.” She took a few from the plate he carried back with him. “Are these from that great little bakery on 83rd?”
    “You know that one?”
    “Of course. There’s practically a snare trap with my name on it waiting right outside that place. The awesome smell gets me every time.” She took a nice big bite of the cookie, a bit of chocolate fudge smearing on her bottom lip. He could have licked it right off. It would have been an act of charity, right? Just like the offer to put her up overnight. Pure and innocent, not an errant thought to be found of what that black lacey contraption he’d found in her drawer of unmentionables would look like on that gorgeous body of hers.
    “Hey, Manny?”
    “Huh?” He shook off the image of her just about naked and blinked.
    “I was asking if you ever tried their tarts.”
    “Mmmm, yeah. What haven’t I tried?”
    She seemed pleased somehow with that answer. “All right, if you like the baked goods at Petite Fours, then you can’t be a