Whispers in the Dark Read Free Page A

who pretend they don’t have a working flashlight in their apartment even though they’re not still unpacking from a move.”
    “Is that supposed to make it okay, and make me want to strip right here and now?” I asked. I set the now wet towel down on the counter and shook out my damp locks. Much better.
    He leaned in closer. “While that would be nice, what it means is that I’d like to take you out, more than once. Maybe give that dating thing a try, because attraction is not an issue.”
    A small moan slipped past my lips as his hand moved further up the curve of my hip. “Oh, sure… You say that now, but what about when my bra makes a reappearance? You think there’s still going to be something here?”
    “I’d like to find out,” he said, his lips ghosting mine.
    My eyes closed as I leaned forward to press my lips to his, but he wasn’t there. When I opened them, his jaw was set and his breathing heavy.
    “We need to lighten things up, because if I kiss you, I’m not going to stop.”
    I whimpered. “Just one little teeny tiny one?”
    He let out a pained chuckle. “No. Because you won’t be able to stop either.” He stepped back and returned to setting up the camping stove. “So, to change the topic away from beautiful sirens, their unbelievably strong call, and a black-hole apartment that sucks away bras and flashlights, what do you do?”
    My eyes narrowed at him. “I’m beginning to think flashlights are code for something else.” He shrugged his shoulders and smirked at me. “Well, to answer your question, I’m a bookkeeper for a dental office. Nothing exciting, but it pays the bills.”
    I watched as he hooked up a canister to the stove, then lit a match. Blue flames that flickered yellow at the ends sprouted from the small device, and he placed a small pan he’d filled with water over it, leaving us waiting for it to boil.
    “That doesn’t sound very exciting. Then again, I never wanted a desk job.”
    “Is that what steered you into construction?”
    He shook his head. “No, it all started when I was in high school. My parents bought this house that was built in 1893, and we worked together to restore it. And that is where the unending affair with the love of my life began.”
    “Wait. You restore houses?”
    He nodded. “Any old building, actually.”
    “That’s kind of exciting, and sounds like fun.”
    His fingers worked open the package of pasta, and I couldn’t look away. Damn, how I wanted them on me.
    “It is. Things were just built better and with so much care back then. Today it’s all cookie cutter homes, but back then, they were all unique with so many beautiful details.”
    My eyebrows shot up. “Wow, you really are passionate about it. Is that why you moved into this place?”
    “That, and your building owner wants to return the first floor back to the way it looked before the nice eighties renovation.”
    I let out a laugh. “Yeah, it really is terrible.”
    “I’m really excited about it. I’ve been researching the building’s history, and you wouldn’t believe all the things this place has seen.”
    “Are you going to tell me it was a brothel or something?”
    His lips twitched as he poured the box of noodles into the now boiling water. “No, but in its early years there was a speakeasy.”
    I smirked and placed my hand on my hip, sticking my chest out a bit. “Got anything to drink to go with our gourmet meal, or is this a dry apartment?”
    He quirked his brow at me and tried not to laugh. “Why, Miss, I do believe I’ve got some beer in the fridge.”
    “Beer? Camp stoves and lanterns? Are you always so prepared?”
    “I was a Boy Scout, and that’s the motto.”
    He pulled out a can of chicken and drained it before adding it to the pot of noodles. It smelled good, making my stomach growl.
    I jumped when I felt something on me. It was Tristan’s hand.
    “There, there,” he said in a teasing tone as he patted my stomach. “It’s almost