LITMIR.BIZ

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an amazing friend. Vivian cherished their relationship.

      Tressa bit into another carrot. “Maybe you should consider selling, Vi.”

      Tressa’s words snatched Vivian from her thoughts. Vivian shot Tressa a razor-sharp glance. Of all people, Tressa knew how much that house meant to her. “Excuse me?”

      Tressa flashed her palms in mock surrender. “Before you slice me in half with that look of death, just hear me out. A year ago, I would have been the first to say let him take that three hundred thousand and stick it up his bleep.” Tressa’s tone softened. “But, sweetie, that was before Tyler—the spineless bastard—ran off with all the money you’d saved to renovate the place.”

      Tyler. Even thinking her ex’s name boiled the blood in her veins. Her hand tightened into a fist as anger swelled inside her. How’d she ever fall for a con man like him? She answered a moment later. Because I let my guard down. And because of it, The Irma Moore House—named after her grandmother—she’d intended to open for homeless families had suffered.

      Vivian’s eyes lowered to the pimento cheese sandwich she no longer wanted. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it.” Many times. But there was no better way to honor her Nina—a woman who’d given selflessly to others all of her life—than by converting the house she’d loved into something steeped in love.

      Tressa touched her hand. “Vi, are you okay?”

      Vivian glanced up, pasting a forced smile on her face. “Yeah, I’m good.” She didn’t care how much Alonso Wright offered her. She didn’t want one red cent of his money. Wanting him...now, that was a different story.

      “You should—”

      Tressa’s eyes went big. The expression on her face—a mix of surprise and caution—forced Vivian to turn to see what had her so stunned. The second her eyes landed on Alonso, her pulse quickened. What in the hell was he doing there?

      Vivian’s eyes raked the length of his lofty physique. The black T-shirt he wore revealed more of his chiseled frame than she’d seen during either of their previous encounters. The relaxed-fit jeans drew her attention to his lower half, which was just as impressive as the upper. Was there any piece of clothing he didn’t look scrumptious wearing?

      Finding his eyes—and her breath—she stood. “What are you doing here?”

      He neared her, holding a bunch of fresh tulips. “You’re ignoring me, and I wanted to know why.” He shrugged. “So I thought I’d ask.”

      The closer he got the warmer the room grew. If he took one more step, she’d suffer heatstroke. “I—I’m not ignoring you. I just wasn’t aware there was anything left to discuss.” He flashed a half smile packed with so much sexiness and beautiful mischief she tingled all over.

      “Um, I should get back on the floor.”

      Shit. With Alonso’s presence, Vivian had forgotten Tressa was even in the room. His eyes lingered a moment more on Vivian before sliding to Tressa.

      “Don’t let me rush you off,” he said.

      “I have things to do.” Tressa stuck out her hand. “I’m Tressa Washington. Vivian’s best friend.”

      Alonso took Tressa’s hand. “Alonso Wright. Nice to meet you.”

      “Nice to meet you, too. Do you believe in destiny?”

      “Tressa!” Vivian forced through clenched teeth. When Alonso flashed her a quizzical expression, she sputtered a nervous laugh.

      “I have to go.” Tressa reclaimed her hand and disappeared from the room.

      God, she was going to kill that woman.

      Alonso chuckled. “She sure is interesting.”

      And a dead woman.

      An awkward silence played between them. Alonso’s eyes combed slowly over her face. When they lowered to her mouth, a bout of nerves shook her. In an effort to thwart the effects of his gaze, she said, “So...” Alonso’s eyes jerked upward as if her words had startled him.

      “These are for you. Tulips.” He pushed the vibrant flowers toward her. “Your favorite.”

      Yes, they were, but how did he know tulips were her favorite? Was he stalking her? Apparently, he read the questioning on her face.

      “I pay attention to details. It makes me good at what I do.”

      He captured her hand and flipped it palm-side up, then smoothed the pad of his thumb across the single red tulip tattooed on her wrist. The sensation of his warm touch and delicate stroke ignited her entire body. Her nipples beaded in her bra and she prayed it wasn’t pronounced enough that Alonso would notice. She was afraid to look.

      Reclaiming her hand, she said, “Thank you. They were my grandmother’s favorite. Mine, too,” she said as if he didn’t already know that.

      Again, Alonso scrutinized her as if committing her features to memory. He’d eyed her in a similar manner at the restaurant, too, she recalled. What exactly did he see when he stared at her that way?

      “Why are you here?” she said, breaking the silence.

      “Have dinner with me.”

      “Why would I do that?”

      “Because you think I’m a nice guy.”

      “Actually, I don’t think about you at all.”

      “Liar.”

      Vivian’s brows bunched. “Excuse me?”

      “The way your eyes smiled when you looked at me suggested you have thought about me.” He shrugged. “At least once or twice.”

      “The way my eyes...” She laughed, attempting to strip away the nervousness that lingered just below the surface. “You are hilarious.” He flashed one of those soul-stirring smiles. If that hadn’t been enough, he performed that two-fingered beard massage thing that was quickly becoming her kryptonite. Why in the hell did she find the move so damn arousing?

      Alonso folded his arms across his chest and rocked back and forth on his heels. “Well, I guess I was wrong.”

      “I’m sure that was hard for you to admit, being wrong, but it happens to the best of us.” Oh, she would sacrifice a limb to know what raced through his head at the moment. The roguish expression on his face made the possibilities endless.

      “About that dinner?”

      He was a persistent one. She scrutinized him. What kind of game are you playing, Alonso Wright? Clearly, this was some elaborate scheme he’d cooked up in an attempt to persuade her to change her mind about selling the house. She’d played the fool once for a man, but wouldn’t again. This time she would wield the upper hand and beat him at whatever diversion he’d crafted. “Okay.”

      Alonso’s brow arched in what she took to be surprise. Had he expected to have to put up more of a fight? He wasn’t the only astonished one. Typically, she wasn’t one to play games, but he made the challenge so damn appealing. Maybe she should have made him work a little harder.

      “Okay?” Alonso said, his words dripping with uncertainty.

      “Yes, okay. Unless you’ve already changed your mind.” She mimicked his folded-arm stance. “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

      “Hell, no.”

      She bit back a smile. “Good.”

      “My best friend plays at a jazz club in downtown. The food is amazing. But we can do whatever you’d like.”

      What she’d like to do was definitely not an option. “I love jazz, actually.”

      “I know.”

      “How—”

      He touched the charm

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