Donovan laughed as I opened my car door. He held onto the top as I climbed inside.

“Goodnight, Donovan.” I smiled.

“Goodnight, Red. Thanks for everything.” He paused a moment. “We work well together, don’t we?”

I smiled. “We do.”

He winked. “Be careful driving home.”

CHAPTER 20

* * *

Donovan

“This is a nice place.” I looked around the inner sanctum of Autumn’s apartment. It was small, but decorated really cool with a bunch of black-and-white photographs of things in the City taken from odd angles, like the suspension wires of the Brooklyn Bridge shot from standing and Times Square taken while walking up the stairs from the subway. “Did you take the photos yourself?”

“No. I bought them from a street artist years ago. I like how they show iconic parts of the city, but in an atypical way.” She lifted a box out of the refrigerator and set it on the counter. “I forgot you’ve never been here.”

“Never been invited.”

Autumn smiled. “I hope I didn’t go overboard with this broccoli salad. I took a guess at how many people came for dinner the night I went with you. I figured about a hundred.”

I nodded. “That’s pretty spot on.”

“I borrowed two coolers from a neighbor, so the meat is in those. I couldn’t fit it all in my refrigerator.” She bent to lift another box on the bottom shelf, and I walked over and grabbed it for her.

“Jesus. What’s in here? Rocks?”

“I made twenty pounds. I didn’t want to run out.”

“I think you have the side dish covered.”

Autumn’s kitchen was a typical New York City galley that barely had room for one, so when I joined her to lift out the container, our bodies were almost touching. At the risk of sounding like a complete wuss, I felt it in my loins. My loins. I don’t think I’ve ever had use for that word until now. But fuck if everything from beneath my ribs to the base of my balls wasn’t all tingly.

I set the second tray on the counter and made a point of pivoting to speak to her. She looked up at me from under those long, dark lashes with her big green eyes, and it was like the bathroom at the partner barbecue all over again. Except if we got started this time, there would be no one around to interrupt. Sure, we had people to feed, but would they really starve if dinner weren’t served for one night? I found myself actually debating that thought, until something behind Autumn caught my attention. The kitchen had a small window, which was currently open. A little breeze that I didn’t even feel must’ve blown, because the curtains lifted slightly, revealing a plant on the windowsill.

Was that… No, it couldn’t be.

But then Autumn looked over her shoulder to see what had caught my attention, and when she turned back, the look on her face told me the crazy thought I’d had was right. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and her eyes sparkled like a kid getting caught with a cookie from the cookie jar.

I nodded to the plant without taking my eyes off her. “That’s my plant, isn’t it?”

Autumn shook her head with a huge grin. “No.”

I skirted her and walked over to the window, lifting the pot. It was bigger, and the container had been changed, but I was pretty certain it was my little plant. I knew because I’d cross-bred two of my existing plants—one had green leaves with a yellow stripe, and the other had little yellowish bumps on its leaves—and this one had green leaves with a yellow stripe and bumps. It had barely been a seedling when it disappeared from my apartment. I’d noticed it missing the week after our weekend together, and I’d assumed the kid across the hall I sometimes paid to water the plants had killed it or something.

I studied her face. My bullshit-arometer had zero doubt she was lying. “Really? Where did you get this?”

“At the store.”

“Which store?”

She shook her head and looked away. “I don’t know. The plant store.”

I smirked. “The plant store?”

“I don’t remember what it was called.”

“I do.” I leaned down so we were eye to eye and inched closer. Autumn looked like a deer in the headlights, yet there was still a sparkle in her eye. She was enjoying screwing with me as much as I was screwing with her. “You got it from a place called Donovan’s.”

“I did not.” She smiled from ear to ear.

“Did, too.”

“Did not.”

“I didn’t take you for a thief, Red.”

“I’m not a thief. I just…borrowed it, okay?”

My brows jumped up. “You borrowed it?”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“Almost a year ago?”

“I guess so.”

“So you were planning on giving it back?”

She couldn’t contain herself anymore—she cracked. Her hands covered her face, and she burst out laughing. “Alright, alright. I took it from your apartment. I didn’t get it from the plant store, and I wasn’t planning on giving it back.”

Now I was laughing, too. “Do you do that often? Take something from a man’s apartment?”

“No! I swear. I’ve never ever done that before. I’ve actually only stolen one thing in my entire life—an NSYNC pin when I was ten—and I felt so guilty about it that I went back the next day and snuck it into the store.” She still had her face covered with her hands.

I gently peeled back her fingers so I could see her eyes. “You wanted a souvenir from our weekend together?”

“I don’t know why I took it. I just did. If you couldn’t tell, I’m really embarrassed. I’m sorry.”

I brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m glad you felt the need to take a souvenir. As long as we’re coming clean, I have something of yours, too.”

Her eyes grew wide yet again. “You do?”

I nodded. “I didn’t steal it. Because, you know, I’m not a thief like you. But I found a folded-up piece of paper under my bed the week after you disappeared on me. It must’ve come out of your luggage, and I didn’t notice it until then.”

“What paper?”

I reached into my pocket and took out my wallet. Unfolding the sheet of paper I still carried with me, I showed it to her.

Autumn took it. She closed her eyes after reading the first few lines. “Oh my God. Is there a hole somewhere that I can crawl into? First you realize I stole one of your plants, and now I find out you read an alphabetized list of excuses I wrote.” She blushed and shook her head. “Who does these things? Why are you even interested in me? I’m a freaking weirdo.”

“Normal is overrated, Red. But I am curious who you use the excuses on.”

“My dad. He never forgets anything, so if I gave him the same excuse as the last time I needed to get off the phone, he would remember.”

“So you started a list?”

“Right before I met you last year, he’d called me the morning I was leaving for Vegas. I said I was walking into an elevator and needed to hang up. Apparently, I’d said that on our last two calls, and he called me on it. I don’t like to fly, so I had a few glasses of wine on the flight and made that list, sort of half as a joke.” She sighed. “Can we switch? I’ll take this paper back and burn it, and you can have your plant back. Then we can pretend this conversation never happened.”