The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 by Paula Lester (best ereader for comics .txt) 📗

Sanborn leaned in, closer to both his mailbox and Tessa. “And being run into by you would be no hardship, ma’am.” He grinned. “I’ll tell you that.”

Sanborn hitched up his gray polyester shorts. The waistband was being sorely tested by his ample middle section. The orange tank top was similarly strained and couldn’t quite manage its job of covering the bottom of his furry abdomen.

Tessa tried to ease backward, but her spine hit the metal boxes. She was trapped. She forced a smile. “That’s . . . kind of you.”

Her eyes darted around the man, searching for a way to escape without seeming rude. But if worse came to worst and their interaction lasted more than another minute—she’d have no problem resorting to rudeness.

Sanborn rubbed a hand through the twenty or thirty strands of hair on top of his head and then scratched a patch of the salt-and-pepper ring just above his right ear.

He got closer, his key out to open the mailbox above hers. It was now or never. Tessa ducked under his outstretched arm, shuddering. She’d definitely felt a spritz of moisture from the man’s hairy underarm. He didn’t have the type of physique to pull off a tank top.

“See ya.” It was both a farewell and a way of life.

She was almost out of the room and away when Sanborn spoke again. He didn’t seem to find her clumsy escape act remotely unusual or a signal that the conversation should be over.

“Aren’t you usually at work this time o’ day?”

Tessa spun on her heels. Sanborn’s question acted like a physical barrier that kept her from sprinting away. “I have a new job now, so my hours will be different than they were at the restaurant.”

“Oh, yeah?” He glanced at her as he pulled open the door to his box. “What’s your new gig?”

It took her brain a moment to remember what she was supposed to say in such a circumstance. “Uh . . . I’m at a life insurance company.”

She took another step to the side, preparing to sprint across the lobby. She prepped her getaway to the door leading to her apartment’s hallway. But before she could move, an obstacle stepped in the way. Silas St. Onge.

Great.

Tessa wanted to talk to Silas less than she did Sanborn.

Okay, that wasn’t quite true. Under normal circumstances, spending five minutes in conversation with her hot landlord wouldn’t cause her the least bit of inconvenience. It would give her a chance to watch for the adorable dimple in his right cheek and study the cute mop of sandy blond hair that loved to flop over his eye.

She shook her head to clear those naughty thoughts. These weren’t normal circumstances. It was a horrible time to run into Silas.

Sanborn had said something, but Tessa had totally missed it. She didn’t want him to back up and repeat it, either, so she did the first thing that came to mind. She laughed like he’d told her a joke she found hilarious.

The confusion that raced across his face confirmed she’d chosen the wrong reaction. Oh, well. Too late to turn back now.

Tessa kept an eye on Silas and hoped he’d continue talking to Mrs. Cross, the elderly resident of apartment 130.

“Have a good day!” she called to Sanborn. Then Tessa power-walked across the lobby to the door leading to the back courtyard, ignoring Sanborn’s voice behind her.

She didn’t stop moving when the fresh air hit her but hurried across the brick walk to a side door. She pushed through the heavy metal door into the hallway and chuckled with relief. That had been a close one.

Tessa started toward her door, moving more slowly while she dug in the purse for keys. But just as her fingers grazed metal, the door at the opposite end of the hallway popped open, and Silas strode through.

Oh, no! She increased her speed, pulling out the keys. Silas’s long strides delivered him to 114 before Tessa could get there. He blocked her way. “Tessa.” He grinned. “I’m glad I caught you.”

“Yeah. Hi. Um, I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now.” She ignored the dimple and how it made her feel.

“This will just take a second.”

The amount of time it took wasn’t the problem. She knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You’re a few days late on your rent.” Silas shook his head, looking apologetic.

Tessa watched the hair flop over his eye. Focus! Stop being distracted by his adorableness. It was hard, though. Not only was Silas pretty much the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen, but he also seemed to have no idea. Unfortunately for her, that made him even more attractive.

“Yeah. I know,” she said. “I’m really sorry. It’s just . . . I lost my job. But I got a new one,” she hurried to say before Silas could react. “And I’ll have the money to you by the end of the week. I swear.”

Tessa held her breath. She hoped he went for it. It wasn’t like Silas owned the building. He was sort of a property manager extraordinaire—the guy who handled everything from maintenance to rent collection. He also happened to be kind of a pushover. Tessa had no idea how he managed to keep the place’s owners off his back because she couldn’t be the only resident who constantly needed extra time to pay. Still, she lived in fear that one day, and maybe this was that day, he’d say no when she begged for extra time.

“Okay.” He sighed. “That’ll work. But Friday is the very last day I can stretch it for you.”

“I’ll have it for you then for sure.”

Silas moved away from the door a few steps but then stopped and turned back toward her. Though he’d sounded like a softy before, his tone suddenly turned authoritative. “By the way. That cat you don’t own was peering out your window today when I went past. You know the pet fee