"I'd be careful, Nola. Two can play that game."
I took a shaky breath as I finally got my laughter under control. "Actually, I don't think I can scream that high."
His eyes took on a dangerous glint, and he planted his hands on either side of my rib cage. His hands covered it entirely. His fingers flexed, threatening to tickle me.
The doorbell rang, and he stood up abruptly.
"Who could that be?" he asked.
I jumped up and leapt over the back of the couch. Opening the door, I held out my arms, happy to get the Thai food from the delivery man. It would be like a peace offering—for scaring Bane and avoiding him.
"Come on. Let's eat dinner!" I walked past him, careful to hold the bag under his nose where he could get a strong smell of it.
The spices wafting out of the bag nearly made me drool. I set it down in the center of the dining room table then headed into the kitchen to find drinks.
"I don't want to eat your dinner," he said.
"What—my dinner's not good enough for you?"
He looked surprised. "No! That's not what I meant. I meant I didn't want to steal your dinner."
I grinned. "I ordered a lot. I figured you could eat the leftovers when you got home from work."
"That was very...sweet." He smiled, and my world tilted on its axis.
I passed him a water bottle and a fork, then sat down.
"You like Thai food?"
He nodded. "I like any food."
"Oh, come on. Tell me your favorites," I said as I dug into a carton of Pad Thai.
"Hawaiian. Hawaiian food gets me every time."
"Hmm. Have you tried that food truck in town?"
He glanced up from his green curry. "They may or may not know me on a first name basis."
I laughed. "Oh, I'm glad I'm not the only one. I love that place."
His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled before he took another big bite.
"Bane," I started to say as I took another bite. Poor man would be traumatized between seeing my scary morning face and eating dinner with someone who keeps talking with a full mouth. I was probably going to have to pay for his therapy. I finished chewing before I spoke again. "Why were you living at The Market Street Apartments? I know you didn't have to. You have that nice car. I found out you own that real estate office you work in. I know you said something about a budget, but why would you live in such a crummy apartment?"
He took a big drink of water. The curry must have caught up with him. "There was an opening there," he said slowly.
I rested my chin in my hand. "I don’t buy it. You just didn't seem happy there, and you could clearly afford something better."
His eyebrows scrunched together. "I wasn’t happy, no. I was too worried the building might fall down with us inside."
I laughed. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just trying to get to know you."
He set down his fork. "I—well, I like to budget."
"Yes, I know. That's good. My parents always taught me budgeting was a good thing. You seem embarrassed by that, though."
"My parents didn't teach me. They loved to live to excess. Until they lost everything. Experiencing that at eleven-years-old left an impression on me. I want to make sure I avoid that situation as much as I can. So I only pay for what I can afford."
I nodded, "The world would probably be a much better place if everyone lived by that philosophy."
He smiled, and I was worried I’d inhaled a noodle. "You don't think I'm weird?"
"Well, I never said that. But no," I smiled. "Why would I think you're weird?"
He stirred the curry around the dish. "Most twenty-seven-year-olds are piled high with debt, fancy cars, and fancy clothes."
"Umm. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't there a big SUV sitting in our driveway? And what about those suits you wear all the time?"
"I saved for those. Bought the car used, and I only own three suits that I rotate through. Everything I buy is paid for with cash."
My jaw dropped open. "Everything?"
He nodded.
"What about your business?"
"Everything. Everything is owned outright."
"What? That's incredible! You should be so proud of yourself." And now I was going to have to go cut up the credit card I’d paid for dinner with.
Bane relaxed. "You know, you're the first person I've told that to who hasn't treated me like I'm crazy."
"I have the benefit of knowing you scream when someone scares you, so I know you're not crazy."
He tried to scowl at me, but there was that smile sneaking out. "That scream will never be talked about again."
"It won't?" I asked as I stole a bite of his curry.
"You going to steal my food all the time?"
I nodded. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Homeowners Association Rule #18:
No trick or treating.
"Don't make me do this. You were the one who started all of this. Don't make me go by myself to another neighborhood event."
Nola lay on the couch with her phone in her hand. "Why do we have to go?"
"We want to stay inconspicuous, right? If we stay home, Carol is bound to notice. Then she'll be asking everyone why we're not there. Besides, it will be way more fun than sitting on your phone all night taking selfies."
"So, you're saying I should go with you to the block party, and we can take selfies together?"
"Yes. No, no that's not what I meant."
She laid back down.
"Actually, I’ll take a selfie with you if you go with me."
She shook her head.
I leaned forward and wrapped a hand around her bare ankle. "Don't make me face Carol by myself. She scares me. I'm not above dragging you off this couch and carrying you to the gazebo."
With a nervous laugh, Nola stood up and pocketed her phone. She gave me a forced smile. "You're right. I should get out and make some
