Candlelight Conspiracy Read Online Free PDF Page B

her shows to hear it anyway. Uptight Marc probably didn’t believe in listening to music about love and life unless it mentioned cooking techniques or a recipe. She was safe from him ever finding out she’d written a song about him.
    But it wasn’t until night fell that she heard faint footsteps and the jingle of keys. She snuck to her front door in time to see Marc disappear behind his door. Disappointment spiked her chest and settled in her stomach.
What were you going to do anyway—pop out into the hall right when he got home to say hi? Stalker much?
She wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion either, with her beat-up navy sweatpants, white tank top with a bra built in, red zip-up hoodie, and fuzzy slipper socks. Yeah, she was the picture of sexy, all right. At least today her hair was combed and in a respectable ponytail.
    She turned and walked back to her guitar on the couch to work on the melody to her late-night lyrics when the power failing silenced her apartment. The one thing she was going to do today was get candles—but she hadn’t left her apartment.
Great. Stuck in the dark and no Marc.
    She heard the distinct noise of creaking and froze. Could he be in the hall? Her belly fluttered, and she bit into her lower lip. She swiveled on her heels and opened her door, masking the smile that she felt everywhere.
    There he was, standing in his door frame, looking at her. Or, at least, she imagined he was—the hall was dark and she could only see his strong physique.
    “Funny meeting you here.” Oh, great, she was the lamest person she knew.
    “They really need to do something about the breakers in this place.” His voice was rich and wrapped around her like the hug she’d been waiting for all day.
    She didn’t like his words—she now looked forward to the outages—but she did like his tone. He sounded friendly and, if she was really stretching the bounds of her imagination, happy to see her.
    “Good luck complaining; the city owns this place.”
    “Did you buy any candles or flashlights today?” he asked.
    “Nope.”
    “I just got home and brought some food from the restaurant with me. Are you hungry?”
    She paused. In her head she’d already said yes and was kissing him hello. In reality, she wanted to seem not so readily available. Flirting was an art form, one she was still trying to master.
    “I’d hate to impose again.”
    “Nonsense.”
    He paused for so long she couldn’t tell if that was his answer in total or if he’d forgotten what else he was going to say.
    “I,” he chuckled, “actually brought home enough for two, thinking the chances of another outage were pretty good.”
    Oh, really?
The darkness was a nice cloak for her reaction to his honesty. He either wanted her over for dinner or he’d assumed she’d crash the party again. Nah, she shouldn’t be so hard on herself. She was fun—they’d had a nice time last night. And maybe their kiss was still on his mind, too.
    “Okay, cool, let me grab my phone and keys, and I’ll be over.”
    “I’ll wait.”
    She heard a soft noise that sounded like him leaning on his door frame.
Mmm. Such a gentleman.
She gathered her two necessities, locked her apartment, and walked into his as he held the door.
    “Seems like yesterday,” she joked.
    He laughed. “I don’t want to alarm you”—he stepped in front of her, his cheekbones high and serious—“but there is a possibility we are in our very own
Groundhog Day
situation.” He winked and moved to let her by, her arm only missing his chest by an inch.
    “Then I definitely want to learn the piano,” she managed to say as she inconspicuously took a couple deep breathes to slow her spiked heartbeat.
    He rifled around on the kitchen counter and handed her a lighter. “Would you mind? I’ll set out the food. It’s been a long day. I’m hungry.”
    “Sure.”
    She found all of the vanilla candles in the living room, tempted to see if he had any in his bedroom. When she