“That’s right. There are two of them upstairs. I live in one and rent out the other.”

“Y-you’re my landlord?” she stammered.

“And your neighbor.” He grinned. “See, you came to the right place after all.”

Right. She was going to be living in a bright-pink building, over a snowboard shop. With Adonis here for a neighbor. Well, she’d said she wanted different. This was about as different from her life in Chicago as she could imagine.

She followed him outside and around the side of the building to a set of stairs in the back. Molly trailed them to the top, where Max unlocked a door that opened onto a long hallway. “Your place is the apartment on the left. I’m right across the hall.” He unlocked the door to her apartment and held it open for her.

There were two rooms and a bathroom. The front room was a combination living/dining area with a galley kitchen to the side. She was surprised to see a round cast-iron stove squatting in the corner. “Original to the building,” Max said, opening the stove door. “Firewood’s in a shed out back. Help yourself. It’ll keep the place pretty toasty most days.”

She walked over to one of two large windows looking out onto a side street. Max came and stood behind her. “You’ve got a view of a C.B. landmark,” he said. He pointed toward a tall, rather plain wooden building. “The two-story outhouse.”

“A two-story outhouse?” Was he pulling her leg? Playing the new girl for a fool?

But his expression was perfectly serious. “If you think about it, it makes sense. When the snow gets too deep to dig down to the outhouse, you move the facilities upstairs. It’s on the National Register of Historic Places.”

Okaaay.

“Bedroom and bathroom are back here….” He showed her the pink-tiled bathroom, with its chain-operated toilet and claw-foot tub, and a bedroom furnished with a massive white iron bed and an oak dresser with a wavy glass mirror. “Are these antiques?” she asked, running her hand along the smooth wood of the dresser. She knew women in Chicago who paid big bucks to furnish rooms in such quaint style.

“Probably.” He shrugged. “It all was here when I moved in.” He led the way back into the main room. “Phone’s on the wall by the kitchen.” He pointed to the black plastic princess model mounted on the wall. “We just got satellite last year, so you’re in luck.” He picked up the remote and aimed it at the television on a stand in the corner opposite the woodstove. “Until last year we had our choice of three stations—and none of them came in well.” He switched the TV off. “Of course, you’ll probably be too busy to watch much TV, anyway.”

“Is the chamber of commerce that busy?” she asked. She knew Crested Butte was a tourist town, but she hadn’t imagined the workload would be so heavy she’d have no leisure time.

“They’re busy, but what I meant is there’s always something going on in town—parties and things. It’s a really happening place.”

“Oh. Well, I’m really not much for parties.” She had had enough of the social whirlwind back in Chicago. She’d looked forward to evenings that didn’t require dressing up, making small talk or smiling until her face hurt. She picked up a red velvet pillow from the sofa and smoothed her hand along the fringe around its edges. “I guess I’m more of a homebody.” At least, she wanted the opportunity to be a homebody. How could she figure out what she wanted to do with her life if she didn’t try out new things?

“You won’t be staying home much around here,” Max said. “People around here will find a way to get you involved. You’ll see.”

Clearly, he was one of those people who couldn’t understand that some people preferred to keep a low profile. The whole reason she’d come to this burg on the backside of nowhere was to stay in the background. But really, that was none of his business, was it? She merely nodded politely. “The place looks great,” she said. “Thanks.”

“It’s nice to have a neighbor again,” he said, offering her another of his brilliant smiles. She had trouble breathing when he looked at her that way…. Get a grip, she ordered herself.

“Let me help you with your stuff,” he said.

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary. There really isn’t much….”

But he and Molly were already halfway down the hall. Casey followed him out to her car, where he hefted a box of books, and a suitcase from the back. She grabbed the dress bag that had taken up a large portion of the back of the car. It rustled like a sack of dry leaves as she folded it over her arm.

“What’s in there?” Max asked as she followed him up the stairs. “Some kind of ball gown or something?”

“Um, something.” She absolutely didn’t want to talk about the contents of the bag with Mr. Gorgeous.

They deposited their loads and returned to the car, where Max grabbed more boxes. “You don’t have a bike,” he said as she followed him up the stairs again, carrying the ficus.

“No, I don’t.”

“You’ll need one. Don’t worry. I’ll ask around and find you a good deal.”

“Why do I need a bike?” she asked. “Heather said I could walk to work, and I have my car for longer trips.”