Page 3 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

Framed in the window was a perfect male torso. Suntanned skin glistened with sweat that dripped off defined pectorals and a taut stomach.

“Oh my,” Mary gasped.

The torso bent at the waist, and they watched as a shock of dark brown hair and a square jaw filled the open window.

“Hi, Annie,” the possessor of the perfect torso greeted them. His gaze held hers as if he were studying her.

“Hi, Fisher,” Annie responded, but it was little more than a squeak.

“Sorry about the noise.” He grunted as he hefted a box onto his shoulders and disappeared from sight with a glimpse of bunched forearms and muscle-knotted calves.

Mary turned to her sister with a raised eyebrow and a wicked grin. “Fisher? Your new tenant?”

“Uh-huh,” Annie said, clearing her throat.

“My, my, my.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“What do I think?”

“That I rented the apartment to him just because he’s gorgeous,” Annie said.

“And you didn’t?”

“No, he actually has a job, which means he can pay the rent,” she said. “And besides, the day he came to see the apartment he was wearing a suit.”

“Oh yeah, he’d look like Quasimodo in a suit,” her sister teased.

“I really had no idea he was so good-looking without his clothes on,” Annie protested, feeling her face grow hot.

“Well, now you know,” Mary observed dryly. “He did pay his first month’s rent in advance, I hope?”

“He wrote me a check.”

“Wait and see if it bounces.”

“Spoilsport.”

“He would be perfect, you know,” Mary mused.

“Perfect for what?”

“The wedding,” she answered.

“No, I don’t think...”

“He’d be a loud and clear message to Stewart that you’ve moved on.”

“You think?”

“He’s gorgeous and employed?” Mary asked and Annie nodded. “That’s pretty much perfect.”

“I don’t think I could...”

“I dare you,” Mary interrupted her.

“Dare me?” Annie repeated.