Font Size
Line Height

Page 18 of Smut Lovers

Chapter Five

Violet

S he hoped this wasn’t a mistake. “Should we draw up a lease?” She didn’t want to lose her equipment to a fist-bump deal gone sour.

“If you want to, sure.”

Well, there went my last logical argument against it.

Because everything inside her wanted to agree. She could spend time around Cal, get free dinner every day—also helping her budget—and wouldn’t have to stress about the damned construction.

Because she’d seriously considered moving. Her lease was up for renewal in three months, but initial perusing of local listings depressed the hell out of her. Everything was either far out of her budget, or just enough out of her budget that she’d be back to struggling again.

Not to mention nothing close enough to the restaurant that she could afford.

She picked up her spoon again. “All kidding aside, this dish is amazing,” she told him. “I promise not to tell Phor you’re out-cooking him.”

Did she imagine he puffed up a little. “Thanks. I changed the ratio of some of the spices without upping the heat level. I could make it less spicy.”

“I think it’s perfect.”

Once she finished eating he led the way through the kitchen to a door, where he punched in a lock code. It opened into a stairway leading upstairs, to a hallway running the length of the building. He opened a door and flipped on the light, inviting her to look inside.

It was larger than the makeshift studio she’d cobbled together from a refrigerator box and sound-dampening foam tiles. Right now it was filled with an assortment of items, including things for the restaurant.

“If you want to buy a new knob,” he offered, “I’ll be happy to install it for you. Then you can lock the door.”

I need to do this.

She looked up into his handsome blue eyes. “Let’s draw up a lease. I’ll pay you to help me move my stuff.”

“You won’t pay me, because Mae would yank my ear off if I took money for that. Tom can help me and we can use his car to move stuff.”

That made her laugh because she knew he was right. “Okay. Let’s do it then.”