Behind closed doors?

Relationship blogger and bestselling author Mimi Collins built her brand by talking openly about sex and love. But after a blog she posts negatively depicting a speed-dating site goes viral, she needs legal advice, and fast. Lucky for her, she has an irresistible advocate in Brent Daniels, her gorgeous new neighbor. The celebrated attorney and TV personality just took on her case. And he plays to win—in and out of court.

Putting the moves on his client is taboo, but how can Brent turn down his feelings for Atlanta’s hottest romance expert? He knows what a woman really wants: candlelight and roses, champagne and seduction. Until a legal victory leads to an intimate tête-à-tête...and a very public kiss. But with a tragic secret buried in his past, Brent can’t afford any negative publicity. And now that his reputation is on the line, so is his future with Mimi. And he doesn’t intend to lose his chance with the woman he loves without a fight.

When the door opened and he stood there, tall, chocolate and fine, she was at a loss for words. Who was this tanned Adonis with the brown eyes?

“Yes?” he asked, his voice melodic and his smile hypnotizing.

“U-um, I’m your neighbor,” Mimi stammered. “I didn’t know someone had moved in and I was…Well, I was being nosy.”

He smiled again as he gave her a cool once-over. Mimi wished that she had already dressed in her party clothes instead of the Atlanta basketball tank top and the pair of formfitting black leggings she still wore. “If you’re the welcoming committee, where are the cupcakes and muffins?” he quipped.

“I said I was nosy, not a cook. Besides, you don’t look as if you let carbs touch your lips,” she said, then zeroed in on his flat midsection, which she imagined held a set of washboard abs.

“Wouldn’t say that. I know how to work them off,” he replied.

“I bet you do,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“Mimi Collins. I’m Mimi Collins, and you are?”

“Brent Daniels,” he said, then extended his hand. Mimi took his hand and sizzling jolts of electric lust flowed through her body.

Dear Reader,

They say opposites attract, and in the case of Mimi and Brent, there is no truer statement. Mimi Collins is the kind of woman who speaks first and deals with consequences later. That’s easy to do when you’re a blogger looking for hits on your website.

As far as Brent Daniels is concerned, he needs a carefully crafted image to get out of his father’s shadow. So when these two collide, one has to wonder, how will their different ideas on life and love lead them to that magical moment?

It was such an adventure to write about oil and water actually mixing and working. I hope you enjoy the journey of Mimi and Brent as they steam things up between the pages.

Cheris

Feel the Heat

Cheris Hodges

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHERIS HODGES was bit by the writing bug early. The 1999 graduate of Johnson C. Smith University is a freelance journalist and always looks for love stories in the most unusual places. She lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, where she is trying and failing to develop a green thumb.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Mimi Collins pressed the post button on her blog and all she heard was her best friend, Michael Jane, affectionately known as MJ, screaming.

“You have officially lost your mind,” she said. “This is worse than my mother misspelling Michelle and naming me Michael! You do realize that Fast Love is going to come after you when they read this.”

Mimi shrugged as she read over her post about the horrific dating event she’d attended the week before. Fast Love billed itself as the last site singles ever needed to log on to in order to find love.

What a bunch of bull. The Fast Love Mix and Mingle, which was held at SkyLounge in Atlanta, turned out to be casting call for “let’s have a one-night stand.” The first two men who’d approached her held conversations with her breasts; the third man just came out and asked her when she planned to get naked for him, then he’d flashed her a wad of cash. She’d been offended and confused, so Mimi approached some of the other women who’d been invited to the event. Their stories had mirrored hers.

When Mimi had headed to the bar, she’d noticed a man sitting alone nursing a whiskey sour.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” she’d asked as she waved for the bartender.

He rolled his eyes at her and grumbled no. “This isn’t what I expected from the email Fast Love sent,” he’d replied, then took a long sip of his drink.

“What was in your email?”

“Hot girls looking for action.”

“Seriously?”

Nodding, he’d opened the mail app on his smartphone and showed her the Fast Love email. Mimi’s mouth dropped at the image of half-naked women underneath the headline: Hot Girls Willing to Do Whatever... Fast Love Dating Event.

“What in the...” Mimi waved for the bartender, again. She needed a drink. She asked the man to forward her the email.

“What’s in it for me?” he’d asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Mimi asked him if his wife knew where he was, then nodded toward his left hand and the telltale tan line on his ring finger.

“Whatever,” he said, then agreed to forward her the email. After downing her single-malt scotch, Mimi headed over to a group of women who looked as if they were about to leave. After introducing herself as a relationship blogger, she asked them if they would share their thoughts about the event and why they’d signed up for Fast Love.

Two of the three women agreed to talk, and her story was born.

“Mariah Danielle Collins!” MJ said, breaking into her thoughts. “Are you listening to me?”

“Nope,” Mimi replied. “And the post is already getting hits.” She turned her computer screen toward MJ. “Look! Five thousand hits in ten minutes. This is going to be epic. Let’s go celebrate.”

MJ shook her head. “As a brand manager, I know that Fast Love isn’t going to take this sitting down. And you have to think about your own brand! Hello, you are a New York Times bestselling author and we’re in the middle of contract negotiations. You can’t have this kind of publicity. This is going to be so ugly. So ugly.”

“Nothing I said was a lie. They should’ve done a better job marketing this event. It was like a one-sided meat market. I’m doing the world a favor by exposing this nonsense. Too many people exploit single women to make money, and Fast Love is just another one of those companies. Like that obnoxious radio host who has been married four times but is supposed to be a relationship expert.”

MJ cleared her throat. “And some people have labeled you the same, and I don’t see you saying that you aren’t an expert.”

Mimi threw up her hands. “I’m a lifestyle blogger and author.”

“And when that cable news network asked you to speak about dating in the digital age, I didn’t hear you tell Bianca Norman that you weren’t an expert.”

“Listen,” Mimi said, “that was the producer’s job to get her straight. And I’m not an expert.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” MJ quipped.

Mimi glanced at her computer and saw that her post had reached ten thousand views. “Guess who’s about to go viral! Come on, let’s go.”

The two friends headed for the Buckhead Saloon, one of Mimi’s favorite bars. She could always depend on the bartenders to hip her to the latest drinks and celebrity gossip in the city. She even had her own drink there, the aptly named Mimi Collins—a fruity version of a Tom Collins. Mimi’s book, Dating in Atlanta: The Mis-Adventures of Mimi Collins, had given the place a huge buzz because many of the dates she’d written about had started there. And when one of the reality stars from the city had talked about Mimi’s book and the bar in a popular magazine, the place became a bona fide hot spot. The owners knew they had Mimi to thank for that. This afternoon, though, MJ and Mimi were going to celebrate with some hot wings.

“Mimi,” MJ said as they walked into the bar. “What if Fast Love doesn’t take to kindly to your viral post? You have a lot going on right now. You have the movie and second book deal in the works, and this could derail all of that.”

“You worry too much.” She waved to her favorite bartender as she and MJ took their seats at the end of the bar.

“Mimi, girl,” Lydia said as she poured two drinks. “You’re blowing up today! I was going to sign up for Fast Love, but after reading your blog I’m glad I didn’t. I can meet creeps right here for free.”

Mimi turned to MJ. “I did a public service. Now, what was that you were saying about Fast Love coming after me?”

Before MJ could answer, Mimi’s cell phone rang. “Oh my goodness, it’s World Wide News,” Mimi said, then answered her phone.

* * *

Sweat poured from Brent Daniels’s face as he and Jamal Carver, his best friend, lifted the sofa from the back of the moving truck. “Tell me again why you didn’t hire movers?” Jamal asked as they maneuvered the sofa up the stairs of the condo complex.

“Because the movers were booked up today and I need my furniture,” Brent grunted.

“So damned impatient! If I didn’t like this sofa, I’d drop it on your feet.”

“We’re strong enough to do this. Besides, you could use the exercise.”

“You know I can drop it and go home.”

“All right, all right. Dinner’s on me.”

“That’s a given.” The men climbed the three stories and made it to Brent’s front door.

“Why did you decide to move anyway?” Jamal asked.

“Tired of yard work,” Brent joked. “Besides, I moved out to the burbs because I thought I’d be starting a family.”

Jamal dropped his head. “I tried to warn you. Denisha Tate wasn’t worth your lifestyle change.”

Brent sucked his teeth. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

“Nope. Because you keep dating these paper broads.”

“Here we go,” Brent said as he unlocked the door.

“You want these women who have all of the right papers. The Spelman graduates, the PhDs from Yale, the Links sisters...”

“Stop it.”

“You need to stop it. You’re so busy trying to craft a perfect life that you’re not living. You’re a litigating machine, but when you crawl out of your work hole, you’re boring.”

Brent shook his head. “I’m far from boring. I just choose not to run the streets like a college student looking to score.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark. Dude, we’re living in the land of plenty. Plenty of booty, plenty of breasts and plenty of women who are down for whatever. You’d know that if got out of your law office every now and then. As a matter of fact, we’re going out tonight.”

“I’ve got briefs to prepare.”

“After all of the work I’ve just put in moving your bed and desk, we’re going out tonight to have a good time.”

Brent relented because he couldn’t deny how much help Jamal had been in moving his stuff. There was a part of him that knew there was a lot of truth in what Jamal said. But he had to craft his life this way; being the son of one Georgia’s most notorious lawyers who fell from grace made everything he did subject to scrutiny.

Did he push himself too hard? Maybe. But he never wanted anyone to ever mistake him for his womanizing father. So, he had a type, and if she stepped out of line, his next step was out the door. Brent couldn’t help it that he needed someone who kept her business private to go along with the image he’d created for himself. But lately, the women he’d met wanted nothing more than to be the next housewife of some reality show.

And his ex-girlfriend Denisha Tate had almost sucked him into her plan. Who knew the contract attorney wanted their relationship to play out on TV?

“Yo,” Jamal said, snapping his fingers in Brent’s face, “we’re done, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll unpack this later.”

“All right then, we’ll meet back here in an hour and I will show you the beauty of Buckhead nightlife.” Jamal headed for the door, then turned around and gave his friend a stony look. “Now don’t let me come back in here and find you’re buried in a law book or a brief. Give it a break for a few days.”

Brent chuckled. “Okay. I’ll try. I will give you tonight because you had a brother’s back with this move. No work.”

Jamal nodded and headed out the door. Once he was alone, Brent walked over to the bay window looking over the city. Maybe this was the change that he needed.

Chapter 2

Mimi had a good day and she was looking forward to a quiet night. MJ had finally stopped harassing her about the viral blog post. The World Wide News interview had been a success and video snippets were being shared on Twitter and Facebook. And her blog was blowing up even more. MJ had gotten Mimi booked on the local TV station for the five-thirty newscast.

Now that work was over, Mimi was ready to let her curly hair down and relax. And by relax, she meant getting wrapped up in a good book.

“MJ,” Mimi called from the terrace of her condo. “I really don’t want to go to some loud nightclub this evening.”

MJ walked onto the terrace holding two glasses of sweet tea. “Good, because we’re going to the Jazz Spot. My client has turned that place into a hot spot in the city.”

“Oh, that’s what we’re calling him now? ‘My client’?” Mimi laughed and MJ narrowed her eyes at her.

“I can’t with you. Nic and I have a professional relationship that works. Don’t be a hater.”

Mimi rolled her eyes and turned toward the picturesque view of downtown Atlanta. MJ stood beside her friend and handed her a glass of tea. Mimi took a sip of the tea and sighed.

“What’s that all about?” MJ asked as she followed Mimi’s glance.

Shrugging, she set her glass on the railing. “I guess I’m just a little tired.”

MJ shook her head. “Bull. You’re plotting something in that pretty little head of yours. I know you, Mimi.”

“I’m bored.”

MJ furrowed her brows. “Really?”

She nodded as she took a long sip of tea. “How long have we been in Atlanta?” Mimi asked. “Since undergrad, and we’ve been out of school for...”

“I clearly know how old we are. But you have a great base here.”

Mimi folded her arms across her chest. “I want to experience something new. I want to travel and write about new things. I know it’s popular, but this dating stuff is getting really old. What’s the point? My blog is about adventure, but I’m in a rut. I don’t want to write a follow-up to my book. What am I supposed to say? Dating in Atlanta still sucks rotten eggs?”

MJ shrugged and downed her tea. “I love Atlanta. Driving down 285 is an adventure for me. Where do you want to go?”

Mimi’s eyes sparkled. “Dallas, New Orleans, New York, Mexico. I just want to take a map, throw darts at it and go.”

“And you don’t think we’re at the age where it’s time to settle down?”

“Maybe you are—I mean, you have this client you want to nurture and stroke.”

“Shut up! Anyway, I’m going to change my clothes and I’ll be back in about an hour. Then we can talk rationally about why you shouldn’t leave Atlanta.”

Simply because she didn’t want to start an argument, Mimi nodded and agreed that she’d consider it. But there was seriously nothing that could change her mind. She needed something new in her life and she was going to reach out and grab it.

* * *

Brent had already broken his promise to Jamal this weekend. After their early morning workout and plan to explore the new neighborhood, Brent returned home and started working. He’d spent the majority of the morning on the phone with his paralegal. Then half of the afternoon was dedicated to having her go through motions that he’d drafted two weeks ago. Brent liked to be ready for the unexpected in civil cases. And even though this one seemed to be open and shut, he wanted to make sure he had all the i’s dotted and the t’s crossed.

When his doorbell had chimed and he was dressed only in his basketball shorts and a white tank top, he was sure he was going to hear an earful from his buddy. “Give me a second,” he said as he padded over to the door. Without looking through the peephole, he opened the door.

* * *

Mimi was just being nosy. She’d heard noise in what she thought was still an empty unit in the building. But when the door opened and he stood there, tall, chocolate and fine, she was at a loss for words. Who was this tanned Adonis with slate gray eyes?

“Yes?” he asked, his voice deep like a quiet storm DJ and his smile hypnotizing.

“Umm, I’m your neighbor,” Mimi stammered. “I didn’t know someone had moved in and I was... Well, I was being nosy.”

He smiled again as he gave her a cool once-over. Mimi wished that she had already dressed in her party clothes instead of an Atlanta Hawks tank top and a pair of form-fitting black leggings. “If you’re the welcoming committee, where are the cupcakes and muffins?” he quipped.

“I said I was nosy, not a cook. Besides, you don’t look as if you let carbs touch your lips,” she said, then zeroed in on a flat midsection that she imagined held a set of washboard abs.

“Wouldn’t say that. I know how to work them off,” he replied.

“I bet you do,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“Mimi Collins. I’m Mimi Collins, and you are...?”

“Brent Daniels,” he said, then extended his hand. Mimi shook it and sizzling jolts of electric lust flowed through her body. Tilting her head to the side, she focused on his face.

“Where do I know you from?” she asked. “You look very familiar.”

He shrugged. “I’m an attorney.”

It was as if a light bulb went off in her head. An attorney? He was the attorney! Brent Daniels was the man you called when you needed a one-lawyer dream team. And this was her neighbor?

“So, you’re that Brent Daniels! Wow. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“I like the way you say my name,” he said with another megawatt smile. Mimi inhaled sharply, her nostrils filled with the clean citrus scent of him, and her knees went weak.

“I’d better go,” she said as she took a step back. “I’m sure you were doing something important since you answered the door without looking to see who was on the other side.”

“Just unpacking and...”

“Well, well,” a male voice said from behind her. “Am I interrupting something here?”

Damn! He’s gay. I should’ve known that it was too good to be true, she thought as she started to back away. “I’m sorry,” she said turning to who she thought was Brent’s boyfriend. “This place had been empty for so long, when I heard movement, I just had to come see what was going on. Welcome to the building, I’m Mimi.”

“Whoa, I don’t live here,” he said. “I’m Jamal, by the way.”

Mimi smiled. “Nice to meet you. Well, I’ve done the nosy neighbor thing, so I guess it’s time for me to go.”

“Don’t leave yet, pretty lady,” he said. “Me and my boy hang out a lot. Why don’t you and some of your equally pretty female friends show us the neighborhood?”

“Jamal,” Brent chided. “Leave Ms. Collins alone.”

Jamal snapped his fingers. “As in Mimi Collins? Damn, girl, you were all over the news today.”

Brent looked from Jamal to Mimi. “The news?”

Mimi fanned her hand. “It was nothing serious. Just...”

Jamal pointed at her. “She writes that blog, the Misadventures of Mimi. Women swear by it and you’re hard on the brothers, if I must say so myself.”

Mimi folded her arms across her chest. “Only those who deserve it. Did I step on your toes, Jamal?”

“Sassy and fine. We should get married,” he said with a wink. “You going out tonight? Maybe I can give you some material to write about?”

“You’re doing a great job of that right now.” Mimi turned to Brent. “It was nice meeting you, Brent.” She shot Jamal a salty glance. “The pleasure was all yours.” As Mimi walked away, she felt Brent and Jamal watching her. She couldn’t help but put a little twist in her hips as she walked to her door. Life just got a little more interesting.

Chapter 3

When MJ returned to Mimi’s she found her friend sitting on the sofa with her laptop resting on her thighs.

“You’re kidding me, right?” she asked.

“I’ve got to start locking my door,” Mimi quipped. She took a look at MJ and shot her a thumbs-up. “Work it, lady. You look great.”

MJ smoothed her knee-skimming black leather dress. The spaghetti straps highlighted her toned arms and ample bosom. “This old thing?”

“Whatever. I bet you bought it as soon as your ‘client’ invited you to the lounge tonight.”

“For the last time, we have a professional relationship and that’s it. Why aren’t you dressed?”

“Do you know who just moved in here?” she asked with a gleam in her eyes.

“Who? The Rock?”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “I need you to get over your obsession with Dwayne Johnson.”

“La-la-la, I’m not listening! But can you get dressed already?” MJ said.

“Brent Daniels is my new neighbor.”

MJ brought her hand to her mouth. “The lawyer who never loses?”

Mimi nodded and pointed to the picture on her laptop. “This does him no justice. That man is superfine.”

“And how do you know this?”

“Because I heard movement in the empty unit, so I went to see what was going on. He answered the door and it was all I could do to keep drool from dripping out of my mouth.”

MJ glanced at his picture and shook her head. “That’s your type.”

Mimi turned her head back to the screen. Brent was milk chocolate with slate-gray eyes, a body built for sin and redemption, and a heart-stopping smile. Okay, that was everything that sent her heart fluttering, but looks only went so far.

Roderick Mason had been a master at teaching that lesson. He’d promised her the fairy tale, but ended up being the frog. Not only had he cheated on Mimi, but he’d stolen her credit card and bought the other woman an engagement ring.

Livid, she’d gone straight to the internet after pressing charges against Roderick for identity theft and told her story of betrayal, with pictures and the police report. Who knew that heartbreak would’ve given her a new career?

“I’m not saying he isn’t fine, but the last thing I’m looking for is a serious relationship,” Mimi said. “But I wouldn’t mind waking up with him on a Sunday morning.”

MJ sucked her teeth. “There you go with that Sunday morning nonsense. You need to wake up and go to church some Sunday morning, instead of deciding that your Saturday night was a mistake.”

Mimi laughed, thinking that she hadn’t had one of those Saturday nights in a long time. Even though most of her blog posts were about relationships, Mimi had decided that she enjoyed being single. She reveled in her freedom to do whatever she wanted to without questions from anyone.

“Whatever, Mikey. I’m not like you, who has to know a man’s Beacon score before you allow him to buy you a drink.”

“Shut up and please get dressed.”

Mimi glanced at the screen one last time. Brent was nice eye candy, but she was sure that he was one of those men with a phone full of women happy to warm his bed the minute he called. Rising to her feet, Mimi headed to her bedroom to get dressed.

* * *

Brent was impressed with the lounge Jamal had chosen. The smooth jazz soothed him as he sat at the bar. “I’m surprised you’d come to a joint like this,” Brent said to his friend after they ordered drinks and hot wings.

“Because this is the spot where you meet the women who are classy in the streets and freaks in the sheets.”

Brent shook his head. “It’s always about chasing women for you, huh?”

Jamal nodded toward a couple of women who were standing at the entrance of the club. “Those are women worth chasing,” Jamal said.

Brent sipped his drink and shook his head. “You’re something else. What are you going to do when the right woman comes along?”

“She doesn’t exist. So I’m going to buy Miss Right Now a drink.” Jamal casually walked over to the entrance and greeted the women he had noticed from the bar. Brent was about to order another drink when he spotted her. Mimi Collins was a vision in gold. Her full lips were painted red and those expressive eyes of her shone in the dim light of the lounge. Her smooth skin looked as if it were carved from mythical wood. The way she wore that knee-skimming strapless gold dress that hugged her curves like a second skin made his body hard as a brick. “Damn,” he muttered as he set his drink on the bar. The bartender noticed Brent’s stare.

“Brother, you don’t stand a chance,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“If you keep staring at Mimi like that, when she comes over here, she’s going to give you hell,” he said.

“I wasn’t staring... Wait, you know Mimi?”

“Firecracker? Yeah. Went to college with her and Michael.”

“Michael? Is that her husband or something?”

He nodded at the woman standing next to Mimi. “Michael, who goes by MJ, is her best friend. She helps me with the marketing for the club.” The bartender extended his hand to Brent. “I’m Nicolas Prince, the owner.”

Brent shook his hand. “Owner and bartender?”

“A little short-staffed tonight, but I don’t mind meeting my clientele. And just a little advice: if Mimi’s on your radar, you better be ready to have your relationship broadcast to hundreds of thousands of readers. Her blog is popular and she has no filter.”

All Brent could think was that didn’t seem like the woman he’d met earlier. Mimi was a bit of a mystery, but in that dress, he knew he wanted to unravel every part. Still, her blog gave him pause. He didn’t like the spotlight, and it seemed as if she lived for it, according to Nicolas. When he saw Mimi and MJ heading toward the bar, he turned back to Nicolas.

“Whatever they’re drinking, put it on my tab.”

Nicolas gave him a toothy grin. “You don’t know what kind of minefield you just stepped on.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“Don’t believe me, just watch.”

And watch Brent did as Mimi and MJ walked over to the bar. Mimi had the sexiest walk he’d ever seen—confident and alluring. And those legs. Long and strong. Immediately, he thought about them wrapped around his waist while he drove into her wetness.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Mimi said, breaking into his erotic thoughts. “I’d say you’re a stalker, but I know this is a hot spot, thanks to the brilliant woman behind the marketing.”

“I never have to stalk a woman. And I must say, you look amazing in gold.”

She smiled, then turned to Nicolas. “You’re the bartender today?”

“Good to see you, too, Mimi,” he said while smiling at MJ. Brent noticed that MJ and Nicolas had started talking in hushed tones. From the way she was smiling, whatever he was saying to her must have been good.

Mimi shook her head and reached for the bowl of peanuts next to Brent. “They get on my nerves,” she said, then rolled her eyes.

“That’s not nice to say about your friends,” he said.

“If only you knew the story. And for the record, I only have one friend over there, and that’s MJ.” She popped a nut in her mouth and Brent shifted in his seat. Lips like hers were sinful.

“I’d like to know your story. Everyone who knows you has something interesting to say about you.”

Mimi smirked and then licked her bottom lip. “So, you’ve been asking about me? All you had to do was knock on my door. I might have even given you a cup of sugar.”

Brent took a quick sip of his drink to cool the heated desire building in his belly. She had to know what that move with her tongue did. She was sexy and owned every bit of it. “I didn’t ask. Everything was volunteered, Firecracker.”

Mimi tossed a handful of nuts in Nicolas’s direction. “Really, Nic?” she snapped when he and MJ turned her way. “You just talking about me to strangers?”

“Mimi, I was trying to save the guy from one of your rants. Warn him that you’re nuts,” Nic said with a laugh as he brushed peanuts off the bar. MJ touched his shoulder.

“I hope you two aren’t going to start acting up this evening,” she said. “Tonight is about celebrating.” MJ shot Mimi a cautioning look.

Mimi glanced at Brent and held back her caustic comment. “I’m here for the music,” she replied.

Nic held up his hands. “Mimi, you know I love you like a sister. An annoying little sister, but I love you nonetheless.”

“Whatever,” she said, keeping her eyes on Brent, who seemed amused by the scene in front of him.

“I took a look at your blog. It’s very popular,” Brent said. “A relationship expert, huh?”

“Hardly. I’m a lifestyle blogger. It just so happens that it seems as if people around the world are always interested in bad dating stories.”

“So that’s why you date, to have stories?”

“Technically, I don’t date,” she said, then popped a peanut in her mouth. “I go to events, watch people and tell stories about it. What I really want to do is start traveling and be a black girl around the globe, or something like that.”

“That sounds good and everything, but is this your career?”

Mimi raised her right eyebrow and shot him a cold look. “I’m sorry that I don’t want to spend my time locked behind a desk in a stuffy office with bad lighting. I have the talent to make the world my office. And since you were all over Google checking me out, you see I wrote a bestselling book about dating, so don’t try me like that.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean any harm. Go for it, black girl around the globe.”

She rolled her eyes. “Does being condescending win many cases for you?”

“Ouch,” he said as he downed his drink. “You speak your mind without hesitation. That’s pretty sexy.”

“And that was pretty sexist. Insult the woman, then try flirting with her to shut her up.”

“Damn, Mimi, you don’t give people a chance at all, do you?”

“Those who deserve it,” she said. “Pity, I thought you’d be one of those people. I’m glad we had this talk.” She started to stand and Brent touched her elbow.

* * *

Mimi tried to pretend that the feel of Brent’s hand on her skin didn’t affect her. She wanted to act as if their tête-à-tête hadn’t been the most interesting conversation she’d had with the opposite sex in a long time. She wanted to muster the strength to storm away from him as she would’ve done with any other guy who’d pissed her off. But Brent was different. She liked him. Liked that he challenged her and wasn’t a pushover.

He just didn’t need to know that.

“Please get your hands off me,” she said quietly.

“After we dance, I won’t ever touch you again,” he said with a smile that made her heart skip three beats. Brent stood up and wrapped his arm around Mimi’s waist. Without giving her a chance to protest, he ushered her to the dance floor as the band began to play a slow groove.

The moment he pulled her against his chest, Mimi sighed. His arms felt so good. And the man had some moves. His hip thrusts seemed to foretell nights of pleasure wrapped in the bed. Not to be outdone, Mimi unleashed her own moves, spinning and doing a quick step that rivaled the winner of Dancing with the Stars. A few other couples around them stopped to watch the sensual movements Mimi and Brent were doing. When the song ended, half of the applause was for Brent and Mimi rather than the band.

“Not bad,” he said. “I get the feeling that you have a lot of surprises underneath that gold dress.”

She smiled, hoping that her heartbeat would return to normal as he drank in her image. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Right now, I’m just going to buy you a drink,” he replied with a smile.

I could wake up Sunday morning with him, she thought as they headed back to the bar.

Chapter 4

By the time Brent and Mimi pushed through the crowd and made it back to the bar, there wasn’t an open seat in sight.

“Well, that escalated rather quickly,” Mimi quipped. She scanned the crowd for MJ and wasn’t surprised when she found her friend in a corner with Nic. “I guess the real bartender showed up.”

“If he didn’t, that would explain the traffic jam at the bar. I didn’t realize there were so many people in here. Then again, with my workload, I don’t get to hang out in the Atlanta popular spots much.”

Mimi hadn’t noticed either, because when she’d been wrapped in Brent’s arms nothing else had mattered.

“Want to get out of here?” she asked.

“Sound like a great plan. I’m not fond of big crowds,” Brent replied, then draped his arm around Mimi’s shoulders as a wave of people pushed passed them. His possessive touch sent a wave of pleasure down her spine. She wiggled out of the intimate embrace because it felt so good.

“Some Waffle House would be really good,” Mimi said. “Nic and his tapas menu isn’t going to work for me tonight. I’m really hungry.” Though her hunger had more to do with the man she’d been dancing with than food.

“Man, I haven’t had a pecan waffle and grits in a minute.” He glanced at Mimi’s svelte figure. “And I see this isn’t a habit for you either.”

“Two hours a few times a week in the gym while writing makes up for my indulgent foodie ways,” she said as they headed for the exit. “But for the record, I hate grits.”

“A foodie, huh? Do you ever write about that on your blog?”

“Have you ever read my blog?”

“Not closely. I gave it a glance earlier, remember.”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “Rule number one, never tell a blogger that you don’t read her blog.”

“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 turned 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?”

She nodded. “But if it didn’t at least I could say that I tried. Thank goodness it did work.” They walked to Mimi’s door in silence. Then she turned to him. “You seem as if you pretty much follow the rules all the time,” she said when she unlocked the front door.

“Well, that’s normally what good lawyers do.”

“All that time in law school to be a part of the status quo.” Mimi shook her head as she tossed her shoes inside, then turned the light on.

Mimi watched Brent as he gazed around the living room, taking in the eclectic art and vibrant colors.

“What’s with the one red wall?” he asked.

“That’s where I do my vlogs. Red is also the background color of my logo,” she said.

“So this is the home office?”

“I guess. I’d like to not think of it as an office, though. Anyway, you can have a tour after you hang my TV.”

“And you can tell me about your observations tonight.”

“If you must know, the average woman wants her ego stroked just like a man. It’s just when y’all do it, you have to seem sincere or it comes off creepy. Jamal was brilliant at it. I’m sure when the sister he wakes up with in the morning decides to cook him breakfast, she isn’t going to realize that she’ll never see him again.”

“And what crystal ball do you see all of this in?”

Mimi crossed the room and booted up her desktop computer. Then she pulled up her blog site and pointed to Brent. “Please get familiar with my crystal ball,” she said.

Brent crossed over to her computer and glanced at the website. “This is funny,” he said. “But why would you go to an event like this if you weren’t looking for Mr. Right?”

“Well, I was invited and it turned out to be false advertising. Remember, I’m also doing a public service. It’s a shame how companies prey on the fact that so many women are looking for love and marriage. I wrote a book about how hard it is to date in Atlanta and then here comes this company that’s promising true love to women, but cheap sex to men. I wouldn’t have been doing my job if I’d allowed this to go without reporting on it.”

“And you’re not one of those women who’s looking for Mr. Right?”

“No. That’s overrated. If marriage is the ultimate goal, you’re only setting yourself up for failure.”

“Cynical much?” he asked.

“Not cynical, just realistic. Anyway, it’s time for you to put your hands to use,” she said as she smiled at him.

“Lead the way,” he said. Mimi started for the stairs.

“Just keep in mind that the TV is all you’re touching tonight,” she said as she looked over her shoulder at him.

“There’s always tomorrow,” he said with a smirk.

Mimi turned her head and closed her eyes. If only he knew.

* * *

When Brent followed Mimi into her bedroom, she had to silently remind herself that they weren’t going to fall into bed. But her eyes fell to her rose-colored blanket and green duvet. She wouldn’t mind him laying her down on the soft covers and making love to her.

Stop it, she thought as she crossed over to her walk-in closet and pulled out the TV box.

“Let me get that,” Brent said from behind her. The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers up her spine. Mimi stepped aside and watched Brent lift the TV as if it weighed three ounces. Underneath his tailored shirt, she could see his bulging muscles.

“Where do you want it?” he asked as he glanced around the room.

Mimi pointed to the wall facing her bed. “I had Manny check and make sure I could drill the bracket in place.”

“Who’s Manny?”

“Oh, you haven’t met Manny yet? He’s the building super. And if you want something done right, you don’t call him.”

“Then how do you know he was right about the wall?”

Mimi shrugged. “I guess if you don’t get electrocuted we’ll know.”

“That’s cold,” he said. “You lured me up here to risk my life so that you can play Xbox.”

“PlayStation,” she corrected. “And if I remember correctly, you came willingly.”

Brent walked over to the wall and drummed on it. “Doesn’t seem as if there’s anything back here that will kill me. Mimi, where are your tools?”

“Under the bed,” she said, then dropped to her knees.

* * *

Brent couldn’t take his eyes off Mimi’s shapely behind as she crawled underneath her bed. She moved with the grace of a panther and when she stretched forward, he got hard. His body reacted in a way that he hadn’t expected. When was the last time that a woman gave him this feeling? Not since he was a teenager. As a grown man, he was supposed to be able to control his emotions and body, not act like a youngster looking at his first copy of Playboy. But damn! As she inched deeper underneath the bed and wiggled her ass, it took every ounce of self-control in him to stop from mounting Mimi from behind.

“All right,” she said as she slammed the tools on the edge of the bed. “Here’s my toolbox.”

Mimi was a goddess, Brent decided as he drank in the image of her tousled hair and full lips. When she flicked her tongue across her bottom lip, he nearly lost it.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

“Sounds good,” he said, then unbuttoned his shirt.

“Cranberry juice works for you?” she asked as she turned away from his shirtless frame.

“Yes.”

She released a sigh as she took a quick look at him and then headed out the door.

Chapter 6

Mimi gulped down a cold cup of cranberry juice. She thought about adding vodka to the cup, but figured it was a bad idea. Her body was on fire and she had a notion to run up to her bedroom and wrap herself around Brent.

Another sip of juice. She’d have to get naked first. Mimi looked down at her dress and gasped. Did she really crawl under the bed in this? Was her bra really exposed?

Final sip. She knew she needed to be sober. Mimi adjusted her dress and poured two glasses of juice and turned toward the stairs. She took two steps and stopped. What if she made a fool of herself and acted on her carnal thoughts? You’re better than this. Brent is installing a TV. He already told you he wants a family-minded woman to fall for and you’re more than a booty call. That would be a great blog post. Oh my goodness, I’m losing my mind here.

Mimi slowly walked upstairs and reminded herself to keep her hands off Brent. When she saw him with his hands raised above his head, she almost dropped the juice.

“I thought you’d forgotten about me up here slaving for your right to play games.” Brent shook his head and laughed.

“How could I forget that you’re in my bedroom?” she asked as she extended a glass of cranberry juice. Half naked and looking like you should be in my bed?

“Thank you.”

She smiled. “No problem.”

“Ooh, that was good.” Brent said, then handed the empty glass to Mimi. “Let me plug this in and make sure I did it right.” He bent over and Mimi downed her cold juice to quell the fire burning inside her belly as she had a flash of Brent taking his pants off and crawling into bed with her.

“Mimi,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“What? Yeah.”

“Did you hear what I said?”

She hadn’t even realized that he’d turned to face her. “No, I didn’t.”

“Where’s your remote and that PlayStation you can’t wait to play?”

She fanned her hand at him. She wanted to play a different kind of game and that couldn’t happen. “I’ll hook that up tomorrow. You did all the heavy lifting. I’m good now.”

“All right, then I’m going to head home,” he said as he picked his shirt up from the floor. “Mimi, it’s been a pleasure.”

She blushed as he headed out of her bedroom. Too bad he was one of those men who wanted serious. She didn’t do serious. Not anymore. Once bitten, twice shy, she thought as she followed him downstairs.

* * *

Alone in his home, Brent couldn’t sleep. Mimi filled his mind. Her hips. Her lips. That come-hither look in her eyes when she looked at him. Jamal would’ve woken up with Mimi—or at least tried. But Brent knew a woman like Mimi could be nothing but trouble. Fun, but trouble.

Sitting up in his king-size bed, Brent squeezed the bridge of his nose. He’d spent his adult life avoiding trouble and crafting an image that could handle all of the scrutiny being Brent Daniels Jr. caused.

When he’d been in law school, his father—also a lawyer—made the Daniels name infamous when he represented a Mafia hit man in a high-profile murder case. To get his client a favorable sentence, Brent Daniels Sr. attempted to blackmail the judge. When that didn’t work, the judge’s family had been threatened.

The judge had reported the blackmail attempt and the death threats to the FBI, and Brent Sr. had been arrested, tried and sentenced to twenty-five years in prison. The media had held on to the story about the disgraced attorney like a dog with a meaty ham bone. The details of the story played on the evening news and ran across the front page of local and regional newspapers. Brent left Georgia to finish law school at Tulane in New Orleans. When he’d graduated at the top of his class, his father’s sins came back to haunt him, follow him and make getting a job in Louisiana impossible. So he’d spent the first five years of his career in New York. He’d made such a name for himself that when he decided to move back to Atlanta and open his firm, people knew there was a stark difference between Sr. and Jr.

In the five years that he’d been in business in Atlanta, Brent had put nineteen young men through Morehouse with his Martha Joyce Daniels scholarship. He named it after his late grandmother after his mother, Yancy Williams, told him she wanted nothing to do with publicity since she’d gone back to using her maiden name.

Brent wanted to restore some sort of pride to his family name and make sure no one ever confused him and his father. These days, questions about his father only came up around the anniversary of his conviction. Since he’d been sentenced to federal prison, he would never be paroled.

Brent hadn’t seen his father since he’d been a teenager, and their last meeting ended with Brent Sr. telling him that he’d never amount to anything because his mother made him soft.

That accusation made Brent work harder than ever. And his success was the greatest way to try to erase the stain on his family name. That’s why he made sure every move he made wasn’t a media moment. Mimi was obviously a media firestorm. Hell, she’d spent the day all over the news.

He needed to stay away from her, but knowing that she was just across the hall, that was going to be harder than his erection.

Brent was in trouble, but he wasn’t upset about it.

* * *

Mimi jolted awake in her bed, half expecting to see Brent there. When she felt the pillow, she was a bit disappointed. She’d spent the night dreaming of his arms wrapped around her as he thrust in and out of her wetness. Looking down at her thighs, she was reminded of how they trembled in her dream as he licked and sucked her core.

“Stop it,” she muttered, then swung her legs over the side of the bed. Mimi knew she had work to do, and wallowing in fantasyland wasn’t the move for the day.

But first, she had to burn off some energy with a run. Mimi grabbed her workout gear and cell phone, then headed downstairs to mix a protein shake. As she looked out over the city, she felt that urge to leave again.

Mimi tried to pretend that she didn’t want the love she wrote about. Tried to pretend that it didn’t matter, but she did want to fall in love. She wanted a marriage like her mother and father—Adrienne and Melvin Collins—but she’d kissed too many frogs to believe that she’d ever find Prince Charming. They didn’t make men like her dad anymore. What her parents had was special, and her generation of men didn’t want special. They wanted robots with the perfect ass and cooking skills like Bobby Flay, while they offered nothing but lip service, in her opinion.

Mimi knew her parents’ fifty-year relationship wasn’t something she could have. Especially in image-conscious Atlanta. She didn’t have a high-powered job; she was artsy and a free spirit, something her dad said she got from her grandmother. Her mother encouraged her to think outside the box and do what made her happy. Writing and her blog gave her joy. Unfortunately, her happiness never landed her the love she craved.

These days, she wasn’t content. Wasn’t feeling creative or as if she was going to further her career just sitting in her comfort zone in Atlanta. She wanted to have some real adventures and do something exciting. The world was calling her and there was nothing to stop her from answering.

Well, maybe something could be brewing with Brent. Mimi pulled her T-shirt on and took a sip of her protein shake. “Get over yourself,” she whispered as she dumped the remainder of her shake in the sink. Heading for the front door, Mimi paused to put her purple running shoes on, then opened the door. The moment she saw Brent walk out of his place she ducked back inside.

From her peephole, she watched him pick up his newspaper from his doorstep. Mimi drank in those bare chocolate arms, the way his silky pajama pants clung to his narrow hips. She couldn’t help but wonder if he wore boxers, briefs or nothing at all underneath those pants.

When Brent looked up, Mimi could’ve sworn that he looked directly at her. Those eyes were penetrating and shook her. She turned away as he closed the door. This was going to be hard.

Mimi opened her door and headed for the elevator. She was probably going to need a six-mile run this morning to clear her mind.

* * *

Brent crossed over to his breakfast nook and dropped his newspaper on the granite counter. He had to get Mimi off his brain, but the glimpse of her he caught awakened his libido more than he expected.

Why did she act like a deer in headlights when she locked eyes with him? Must be the artist thing. I can’t let this woman get under my skin, he thought as he loaded his coffeemaker with fragrant Kona grounds.

Before he could read his copy of USA TODAY, Brent’s cell phone rang. When he saw Jamal’s name on the caller ID, he started to ignore it. But he answered the call.

“Man,” Brent said, “I’m glad I moved to midtown otherwise I’d still be waiting in that bar!”

“Don’t even act like that. I saw you and Mimi leave together. You thought I missed that. What time did you send her home?”

“Mimi didn’t come over here. I went to her place.”

“Damn, you move fast. Did you have a good time?”

“You have a one-track mind. I hope you have a good lawyer on retainer for the epic sexual harassment lawsuit that’s going to fall on you one day.”

“Why do you think we’re friends? Anyway, I know how to act in the workplace. You know that. So, you want some breakfast or are you about to get some with Mimi?”

“There you go assuming. I don’t think of every woman as a conquest.”

“Nah, just the ones with the right image. You need to stop that and have some fun instead of trying to...”

“Don’t start this shit right now. It’s too early,” Brent groaned.

“All right, let’s just get some food and leave this heavy stuff for another day. But I do have one question,” Jamal said.

“What?”

“Are you ever going to go see him?”

“Hell no. That man destroyed my family, damn near ruined my career before it started. I don’t want to see him.”

“But you know...”

“I don’t give a damn. Look, I’m going to cool out and get some work done.” Brent ended the call. He didn’t care that his father was dying; what he did care about was Jamal trying to force this family reunion on him. And why was his friend keeping up with his father’s health and well-being?

It really wasn’t any of his business how Brent and his father got along. What about his mother, who’d sequestered herself away in South Carolina because she couldn’t take the shame of what his father did?

Cancer. That’s what was killing him. Brent tried to care, tried to muster up enough emotions to drive to the prison where his father would more than likely die.

Growing up, Brent Sr. had been his hero, his disciplinarian and the man who’d taught him to be an honest man. All that was shattered, and it would never be repaired in Brent’s mind.

How could his role model fall hard like that? Brent shook his head, mad that there was still a child inside him missing his father.

* * *

In the third mile of her run, Mimi found herself standing in front of MJ’s town house. The only thing that stopped her from knocking on the front door was the car in the driveway.

Nic was here. Part of her was happy that her friend had finally admitted how deeply she loved him and they’d sealed the deal. Still, she needed her friend! But there was no way that she would just go bang on the door.

She wondered what her mother would say about her current situation. Would she encourage her to move away and start over or stay in Atlanta and continue the success she was having here?

And then there was Brent. Something sparked between them, but Mimi wasn’t going to base her future on a maybe. Maybe they would fall in love, maybe they would like each other beyond Sunday morning. She turned her walk into a slow jog. Then as she thought about shirtless Brent and where she wanted him to touch her, she burst into a full-out sprint.

By the time she made it home, Mimi was a sweaty mess. And of course, Brent was the first face she saw.

“Good run?” he asked.

“Amazing,” she said.

“Maybe we should run together one morning. You look like you go very hard.” He gave her a slow once-over that heated her more than her run.

“I had some great motivation this morning,” she said with a smirk.

“Putting in work so that you won’t feel guilty about what you’re going to do later?”

Mimi furrowed her brows. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Lying in bed playing PlayStation all day. You can’t burn a lot of calories that way.”

“No, I have creative ways to burn calories in bed,” she said, then pushed her damp hair off her forehead.

Brent gave her a cool glance.

“Did you hear me?” she asked. “Earth to Brent, where did you go?”

“You wouldn’t want to know.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to take a shower. It was good seeing you again.”

“You too, Mimi. Hey,” he called out as she turned to head inside. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Dinner and dessert, she thought. “Sorry, I have plans,” she replied, remembering one of her Mimi rules of dating. Never accept a date that could turn into a one-night stand. She told herself to add, especially with your neighbor.

“Some other time, then?” he pressed.

Mimi smiled and waved at him before dashing inside. Once she was safely behind closed doors, Mimi took a cleansing breath. Maybe she should’ve said yes to dinner. They could’ve gone to a public place and then... They would’ve had to come to the same place at the end of the night.

“I did the right thing,” she muttered as she grabbed a bottle of water and gulped it down. Mimi stripped out of her wet T-shirt and padded toward the stairs. Then there was a knock at her door. Part of her hoped that it was Brent, because she would change her mind and say yes to dinner.

When she saw it was MJ, she couldn’t hide her disappointment. Snatching the door open, she pointed her finger at MJ’s nose. “Someone has been a bad girl!”

“What are you talking about and why are you half-naked?”

“Went running this morning,” she said as they walked into the living room. “Needed to find out why my best friend abandoned me last night...”

“You left me first!”

“I may have left the spot first, but you and Nic disappeared as soon as the music started and the bartender arrived. So, was it worth the wait?”

“What? Huh?”

“My run. I ran to your house and who was parked in the driveway?” Mimi wiggled her eyebrows. “I hope you two know what you’re doing this time.”

“We’re not doing anything. He had a little... I’m hopeless when it comes to that man. Mimi, I love Nic so much and I know he doesn’t want a relationship, but when I’m with him, I see wedding dresses and doves.”

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