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  “I prefer to be honest.”

  She sucked her teeth. “What a tragic character flaw. Wait a minute, you’re a lawyer, and you lie every day.”

  “Wrong. I’m closed on Sundays.”

  “Aww, so you admit it!”

  Brent shook his head. “Admit what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It is too late to play this verbal jujitsu. Let’s just go eat and be good neighbors.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “But I’m a little curious about something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why do you open your personal life up for the world to see?”

  Mimi shrugged. “Because I write about things that women can relate to. I’m doing a public service, you know.”

  “Interesting way of thinking. Very creative. I guess I’m going to have to subscribe to your blog,” he said with a wink. Then Brent glanced down at Mimi’s shoes. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to make it in those sky-high heels?”

  Mimi nodded. “The sidewalk is my runway. Just don’t let me fall. And if you like my blog, you should buy my book, too.”

  Brent laughed. “I will definitely catch you and buy your book if you promise to sign it.”

  * * *

  The short walk to the Waffle House did prove to be a little bit of torture, but not because of Mimi’s shoes. It was Brent. Every time she took a breath, his masculine scent filled her nostrils and sent waves of desire through her body. She couldn’t figure out if it was sandalwood or just his natural scent that was driving her crazy.

  As they walked into the restaurant, Brent placed his hand on the small of her back and an electric jolt rushed through her body. Be still my beating heart, she thought.

  “Booth or the counter?” he asked.

  “Booth, for sure.” She glanced at the people standing at the counter waiting for take-out orders. “It’s too busy over there.”

  Brent nodded in agreement and they took a seat at a table in the back of the restaurant. Mimi nervously grabbed the plastic menu and pretended to study it, while she quietly checked Brent out. He looked really good with clothes on. His tailored shirt hugged the muscles she’d seen up close.

  “I thought you knew what you wanted,” Brent said. “You’re studying that menu as if it’s an SAT exam.”

  Mimi lowered the menu and smirked at him. “I took the ACT and made a perfect score. I’m just thinking about trying something new.” Like you.

  “Can’t go wrong with a pecan waffle,” he said. “And bacon.”

  “Not a fan of pork,” she said. “But I think a pecan waffle and cheese eggs are just what I need.”

  What she really felt like she needed was his lips pressed against hers, his tongue dancing with hers as they stripped each other naked. Biting her full bottom lip, Mimi wondered what would be the consequences of sleeping with her neighbor. Yes, she’d have to see him again. There would be that awkward moment after she dipped out of his place and went home. And suppose he brought someone home? Would she go all deranged ex or mind her business? Guess that would depend on how good the sex was.

  A waitress walked over to the table to take Mimi’s and Brent’s orders. After they told her what they wanted and she walked away, Brent focused on Mimi and smiled.

  “So,” he began. “Why do people call you firecracker?”

  Mimi rolled her eyes. “Nic calls me that because he can’t handle a woman who doesn’t fawn all over him, like MJ. And people don’t call me that.”

  Brent leaned back in the booth. “I think it fits.”

  “You don’t even know me like that.”

  “Let’s see, you—by your own admission—are nosy. You speak your mind and I get the feeling that you can be rather explosive.”

  Mimi raised her right eyebrow at him. “And you’ve figured all of this out from knowing me less than twelve hours?” She looked down at her watch for effect.

  “Part of the job. I have to be a good judge of character.” Brent smiled again and her heart fluttered.

  Get it together, girl, she chided herself.

  Mimi rolled her eyes again and held her tongue, lest he make another judgment about her. “Anyway, Matlock,” she said, “you’ve asked a lot of questions tonight and shared nothing about yourself.”

  “I’m sure you ran a Google search,” he replied with a wink.

  “Like you didn’t do the same thing. You’re a heavy hitter in the legal community and you give back to Big Brothers Big Sisters. Google makes you seem like you’re all work and no play. A little staid.”

  Brent nodded. “I don’t know if I should be impressed or insulted.”

  “Why are you hiding behind all of your good press? Angry exes? You’re really a playboy like your friend, Jamal?”

  “Why do you immediately go for the negative?”

  She shrugged. “Because no one is perfect and I like to know what I’m dealing with up front.”

  “Who hurt you?”

  Mimi was about reply when the waitress returned with their coffee and iced tea. After Brent watched her pour sugar and creamer into her steaming cup of coffee, he asked, “Well?”

  “Well what?”

  “You’re guarded and I’m sure there is a reason.”

  She took a long, slow sip of her coffee. “And,” she said after swallowing, “you think I’m just going to open up to you because you have pretty eyes?” Why did I say that? Now he’s going to think I’m flirting.

  “Usually works on beautiful women, but I see Mimi Collins is a different breed,” he quipped. “Can I ask one last question?”

  “You can ask, but I’m not going to promise that I’ll answer.”

  “Is Mimi your real name or your pen name?”

  “Nickname. My government name is Mariah.”

  “Beautiful name. It fits you.” Brent smiled at her and took a sip of his tea. Mimi’s cheeks heated under his stare. It felt as if Brent saw through all of her walls, and that never happened.

  “Maybe if I were a singer and had bigger boobs,” she said. Mimi rolled her eyes and silently chided herself. She’d written about women doing the same brainless thing she was doing right now. Wasn’t she the one who wrote about men being hunters and women shouldn’t make themselves seem too available?

  “Funny,” he said. “I think everything about you is just fine.”

  Sighing, Mimi figured that since she’d made every mistake that she warned her readers about, she might as well go for the gusto.

  “Why are you still single?” she asked. “You’re everything that women in Atlanta want. You should have a girlfriend, fiancée, wife or at least a baby mama.”

  “I never said I was single,” Brent said.

  Mimi’s eyes widened. “Oh, so...”

  “My career is my everything right now. Too many women say I make them feel like a mistress because work comes first.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. You don’t reach your level of success without hard work and sacrifice.”

  “Easy to say when you aren’t dating me and I’m working on a case that keeps me out very late.”

  “You have a point there,” she said. “But the solution is don’t date. It’s too stressful and when it stops being fun, you should always move on.”

  “Wow, that’s not even how it’s supposed to work.”

  “It works for me. Besides, you can’t say that you’re looking for the white picket fence, two point five kids and a fluffy dog.”

  Brent sipped his tea, then nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for. I just haven’t found the right woman to share my vision.”

  “When you build that time machine and head back to the 1950s, invite me to the wedding. I love wedding cake. Never tasted a piece of dry wedding cake.”


  Brent laughed and Mimi closed her eyes. The sound of his laughter sent tingles down her spine that settled between her thighs. And as much as she wanted to blame it on the alcohol, she couldn’t because she’d had one weak drink at the bar. She wanted this man. Wanted his touch and to feel those lips against hers. Sure, her body was a little love-starved. But she had to pull herself together. Since this man was her neighbor, she knew that they could never be anything but friends. And that could be fun, she told herself as the waitress brought their food over.

  The scent of the breakfast fare made Mimi’s mouth water for another reason. She was actually hungry for food. Mimi struggled to take dainty bites of her food, even though she was starving.

  As she watched syrup drip from her waffle, Mimi decided that her charade had gone on long enough. She wasn’t on a date and she wasn’t going to pretend that she wasn’t starving.

  * * *

  Brent was mesmerized by Mimi’s mouth. Her full lips closed around the fork and he couldn’t tear his eyes away when she licked her lips when the syrup dripped down from the utensil. When their eyes met as she spooned eggs into her mouth, she raised her eyebrow.

  Swallowing, she asked, “What?”

  “Nothing,” he replied with a smirk.

  Mimi dropped her fork and wiped her mouth. “So, the way I eat must have ruled me out as your 1950s ideal woman.” She shrugged and laughed. “I’m okay with that.”

  “You’re funny. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. One question, do you like football?”

  She scrunched up her nose. “Not really. But I’m a season ticket holder for the Atlanta Hawks because of something I wrote in my book.”

  “Yeah, I really need to become your best friend fast.”

  “That could happen. How handy are you with hanging flat-screen televisions?”

  “There’s not much I can’t do with my hands,” he bragged. Mimi nibbled on her bottom lip and Brent wondered what her lips would feel like pressed against his.

  “When are you going to prove all of this to me?” she asked. “I mean, I just bought a television for my bedroom.”

  Brent looked down at his watch. Yes, it was too late to roll into someone’s bedroom, especially someone who looked like Mimi.

  “In the morning,” he said.

  “Technically, it is morning. I wanted to hook up my PlayStation and see what this new game that’s on everybody’s lips is all about.”

  “You’re a gamer, too? Mimi, why are you still single? If you read comics, you’re a nerd’s dream woman.”

  She folded her arms across her chest as if she were offended. “Really? Who said I wanted to be anyone’s dream woman, particularly a nerd?”

  “We’re the new dream men,” Brent said, laughing.

  “I’m not getting the nerd vibe from you,” she said. “So, are you going to hook up my TV or not?”

  “Why not?” he said. “Let’s just hope we don’t start a scandal in the complex.”

  Mimi laughed. “Really? I’m sure we’re not being watched yet.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. I’m going into the nosy neighbor’s spot.”

  She reached across the table and pinched him on the arm. “Whatever, nerd. Superman or Batman?”

  “Black Panther. I’m a Marvel Comics guy. But if I had to choose, I’d go with Batman. Superman is just too perfect. Who can live up to that?”

  Mimi narrowed her eyes at him. “But he’s all about truth, justice and the American way. How can a lawyer not believe in that?”

  “But he isn’t even American. Batman knows the truth.”

  Mimi couldn’t really argue with that. “Still, everyone loves Superman.”

  “And I guess that’s what you’re looking for, Superman?”

  “No way. I could never share my man with the world and be all right with that.”

  Brent laughed and then took a spoonful of grits into his mouth. Mimi was something else. And he was definitely intrigued.

  They finished eating, falling into easy conversation, and he decided that they definitely liked each other.

  Chapter 5

  Mimi’s walk had changed to a shuffle as they left the Waffle House.

  “Come here,” Brent said as they stopped in front of a bench near a MARTA stop.

  “Why?” She sighed as she tried to ignore the throbbing in her toes. Her shoes had officially reached their time limit. Brent tugged at her arm until she joined him on the bench.

  “We’ve already decided that we don’t have to impress each other. Give me the shoes,” he said.

  “Umm, why?”

  “Girl, you know your feet hurt. Give me the shoes.”

  Mimi took her heels off and handed them over. Then Brent took her left foot into his hands, slowly kneading and massaging her insole. Mimi struggled not to moan in delight. So, he was good—no, amazing—with his hands. By the time he switched to her right foot, Mimi was ready to buy him a lifetime supply of bacon and bourbon.

  “Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed. “I believe that was all the proof I needed about you and your hands. I think I could run a marathon in those shoes now.”

  “How did you get to the lounge tonight?” he asked.

  “I rode with MJ.” Mimi reached into her handbag to retrieve her phone. She wasn’t surprised that she didn’t have a single text or missed call from her friend. Mimi knew that she was in Nic-land and nothing else really mattered right now.

  “It’s not that far of a walk back to our place. Jamal just sent me a message. He’s going to be otherwise occupied for the rest of the night.”

  “You know, our friends are kind of selfish,” Mimi quipped, then she held her hand out. “My shoes, please.”

  “Why would you want to put those skyscrapers on again?”

  “Because I’m not walking on this dirty ground in my bare feet,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Then there’s only one solution,” he said, then scooped her up in his arms. Mimi would’ve protested, called him sexist or an ogre, if the heat from his body didn’t feel so good.

  “You’re sure you can carry all of this home?” Then she pointed to her shoes beside the MARTA bench. “And you can not leave my shoes!”

  Sitting her on the bench, he picked up the shoes and handed them to her. And as if he could read her mind, he picked her up again before she could put them on. “Oh, you don’t trust me?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Your eyes tell everything. I saw you looking at those killer heels and I knew your next move.”

  Mimi leaned her head against his chest as they walked. “What are you into? CrossFit, power lifting?”

  “Actually, yoga,” he said. “Nothing helps me unwind after a stressful case like the sun salutation. And then there’s boxing.”

  “Aww, I get it, peace and violence. That’s interesting,” she said, then took a deep breath. There was that scent again. Definitely sandalwood. Definitely driving her crazy.

  “Sometimes it takes more than the downward facing dog to get you to sleep.”

  Mimi raised her right eyebrow at him. “I’m just going to keep my mouth shut,” she said, then shook her head.

  “What? You said you spend a lot of time at the gym. You know a sweaty workout can be better than sex with the wrong person.”

  “Well... You do have a point. But let’s be real, you have a lot of women to choose from, you just don’t. Makes you seem as if you’re the good guy.”

  “How do you figure that? Just because I’m the finest man you’ve come across in a while, it doesn’t mean that I use all this sexy for evil.”

  “Jamal is sexier,” she quipped.

  “I’d drop you if I knew you weren’t telling the biggest lie in Atlanta,” he said as they t
urned onto the block where their complex was.

  “I know Jamal has more interaction with the ladies. I saw his work tonight. I can’t believe sisters still fall for that mess.”

  “What mess is that? Maybe I need to add it to my repertoire.”

  She rolled her eyes. “How about, I’ll tell you after you hang my TV, Mr. Good Hands?”

  “If you don’t tell me, I’m not hanging the TV,” he said with a wink.

  “That’s just dirty.”

  “All right, here’s a compromise: you tell me while I hang it.”

  “Okay, that works. And you can put me down now.”

  Brent pressed the code to enter the building, but didn’t put Mimi down. “This isn’t much cleaner than the sidewalk near the MARTA station,” he said. “When we get inside, I’ll let you go.”

  Mimi sighed. Something about him letting her go made her feel some kind of way. But she told herself that they were just going to be friends and she shouldn’t get comfortable in his arms. But she knew it was too late for that.

  When he lowered her to the floor, they headed for the elevator. “What made you move into this area?” she asked.

  “Closer to the office, no more fighting two-eight-five traffic every morning.”

  “Maybe you can show me your office one day.”

  “It would probably bore you.”

  She nodded. “You might be right. I bore easily. That’s why I don’t work in an office.”

  “Have you ever?”

  “Worst two years of my life. I was a stringer for a paper and they offered me a position to create their blog. I thought I was going to be out creating content and making it pop. It was all about monitoring the page views and watching other people have fun. I told them that I wanted to have a more creative role on my blog. They said no. I started my own blog and they didn’t like it, so I was fired.”

  “Damn.”

  Mimi shrugged. “I could’ve begged for my job back, but I was like, why not work for someone you really like? I took it as a sign that I needed to work for myself.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “Were you at all nervous that it wouldn’t work out?”