I dare you to say something, thought Ridley.
“But if you aren’t ready, that’s fine. I can wait.” He backed up a step.
She sighed. She must look truly feral if he was already backpedaling.
“No, I just need to brush my teeth and I’ll be down. Thanks.” She closed the door softly and grabbed her backpack. She carried it into the bathroom and pulled out her toothbrush. While she brushed her teeth, she inspected her face in the mirror. God, it was even worse than she thought. Not only did she still have creases from the pillow in her cheek but the eyelashes on her right side were stuck together making her look like she was cross-eyed.
Sigh.
“A femme fatale you are not.”
Ten minutes later, she crept down the staircase and stood in the middle of the biggest family room she’d ever seen. A huge wraparound sectional took up one wall and the other was dominated by a massive flat screen television. Despite the bounty of electronics, the room still retained an airy comfort, probably because everything was a different shade of cream or gold.
There was a piano in the corner and she wandered over. To her surprise, instead of the usual book of classics, there were loose pages of sheet music. She picked one up. The lines and notes appeared to have been drawn in pencil.
“Raina?”
She whirled around, the sheet music drifting to the floor at her feet. Jackson stood in the doorway. He held a spatula in his hands.
“There you are. I’m in the kitchen.”
Guiltily, she knelt and gathered the pages from the floor and placed them back on the piano. She wanted to ask about them but figured if she did, then he might decide to ask her questions, too. So she walked through the family room and into the kitchen. Jackson stood at the range, stirring a mound of eggs in a skillet.
“Morning. Did you sleep well?”
Ridley watched him stirring the eggs for a moment before walking behind him to peer through the window into the backyard. “Yeah, I think I may have actually passed out on the bed.”
“Understandable. You like cheese on your eggs?”
She turned to see him holding a bag of shredded cheese. At her nod, he spread a healthy layer on the eggs. Part of her wondered if she was still dreaming. A handsome man was cooking for her in a state-of-the-art, designer kitchen.
This was definitely not her life.
“So, I figure even if the locksmith doesn’t call back today we can just take it easy. I have no plans other than cleaning the grill. You’re welcome to hang out with me outside if you want.” He handed her a plate and fork. They sat side by side at the breakfast bar.
“Sure. I’ll help you.” She took a tentative bite of her eggs. He must have noticed her expression because he grimaced.
“Sorry I’m not a better cook. Eggs are about all I can handle without poisoning anyone.”
Ridley choked back a laugh. “No, they’re good.” After a couple of bites, she looked around. The house was perfectly quiet. “Are the kids coming down for breakfast?”
Jackson ducked his head. “Uh, no. Nick took them for the weekend. They won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes. I did overhear something about that yesterday.” She pursed her lips and focused on her food.
“Uh, yeah. I wanted to apologize again for what you heard. Nick can be an ass but he’s usually harmless.”
Ridley snorted. “It’s fine. I should know better than to eavesdrop by now. It never ends well.”
They finished their food in comfortable silence. He rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher, so she did the same. He wiped off the counter with a damp rag and then clapped his hands.
“Okay, I’m going to grab my cleaning supplies and then I’ll meet you outside. It’ll be nice to have company while I clean the grill. I always put it off until the last possible second because I hate doing it.”
“I’ll help you. I’ve cleaned a few grills in my time.” She motioned toward the laundry room. “Do you mind if I throw a few things in the wash first? I was going to yesterday but…”
He nodded knowingly. “No problem. The detergents and stuff are in the cabinets overhead.”
“Thanks.”
She turned and walked back out to the family room and then took the stairs two at a time. By the time she got to her room, she was humming under her breath.
“You are so pathetic,” she muttered. She shouldn’t be so giddy at the prospect of spending more time with Jackson. He was just being nice; it wasn’t like they were going on a date or something.
After throwing the entire contents of her backpack in the washing machine, Ridley stood looking at the clothes swirling around through the clear glass panel on the front. It was tempting to just stand there all day and let herself be hypnotized by the motion. Anything was better than thinking about the events of the past few days and the fact that these clothes were the only things she had to her name at the moment.
“Not that I have so much back in Florida, but still.”
She’d been shaken after the accident but after a lot of prodding, a couple of bandages and a few painkillers, she was released from the hospital. The first day after the accident, she thought it was the trauma of what she’d seen that had her imagining things. Books that weren’t in the same place she’d left them. Doors left open that she knew she’d locked. Stupid stuff. It wasn’t until she came home and found her apartment completely trashed that she’d been scared. And if her mother had taught her anything, it was how to move fast.
“But if you aren’t ready, that’s fine. I can wait.” He backed up a step.
She sighed. She must look truly feral if he was already backpedaling.
“No, I just need to brush my teeth and I’ll be down. Thanks.” She closed the door softly and grabbed her backpack. She carried it into the bathroom and pulled out her toothbrush. While she brushed her teeth, she inspected her face in the mirror. God, it was even worse than she thought. Not only did she still have creases from the pillow in her cheek but the eyelashes on her right side were stuck together making her look like she was cross-eyed.
Sigh.
“A femme fatale you are not.”
Ten minutes later, she crept down the staircase and stood in the middle of the biggest family room she’d ever seen. A huge wraparound sectional took up one wall and the other was dominated by a massive flat screen television. Despite the bounty of electronics, the room still retained an airy comfort, probably because everything was a different shade of cream or gold.
There was a piano in the corner and she wandered over. To her surprise, instead of the usual book of classics, there were loose pages of sheet music. She picked one up. The lines and notes appeared to have been drawn in pencil.
“Raina?”
She whirled around, the sheet music drifting to the floor at her feet. Jackson stood in the doorway. He held a spatula in his hands.
“There you are. I’m in the kitchen.”
Guiltily, she knelt and gathered the pages from the floor and placed them back on the piano. She wanted to ask about them but figured if she did, then he might decide to ask her questions, too. So she walked through the family room and into the kitchen. Jackson stood at the range, stirring a mound of eggs in a skillet.
“Morning. Did you sleep well?”
Ridley watched him stirring the eggs for a moment before walking behind him to peer through the window into the backyard. “Yeah, I think I may have actually passed out on the bed.”
“Understandable. You like cheese on your eggs?”
She turned to see him holding a bag of shredded cheese. At her nod, he spread a healthy layer on the eggs. Part of her wondered if she was still dreaming. A handsome man was cooking for her in a state-of-the-art, designer kitchen.
This was definitely not her life.
“So, I figure even if the locksmith doesn’t call back today we can just take it easy. I have no plans other than cleaning the grill. You’re welcome to hang out with me outside if you want.” He handed her a plate and fork. They sat side by side at the breakfast bar.
“Sure. I’ll help you.” She took a tentative bite of her eggs. He must have noticed her expression because he grimaced.
“Sorry I’m not a better cook. Eggs are about all I can handle without poisoning anyone.”
Ridley choked back a laugh. “No, they’re good.” After a couple of bites, she looked around. The house was perfectly quiet. “Are the kids coming down for breakfast?”
Jackson ducked his head. “Uh, no. Nick took them for the weekend. They won’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Oh, yes. I did overhear something about that yesterday.” She pursed her lips and focused on her food.
“Uh, yeah. I wanted to apologize again for what you heard. Nick can be an ass but he’s usually harmless.”
Ridley snorted. “It’s fine. I should know better than to eavesdrop by now. It never ends well.”
They finished their food in comfortable silence. He rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher, so she did the same. He wiped off the counter with a damp rag and then clapped his hands.
“Okay, I’m going to grab my cleaning supplies and then I’ll meet you outside. It’ll be nice to have company while I clean the grill. I always put it off until the last possible second because I hate doing it.”
“I’ll help you. I’ve cleaned a few grills in my time.” She motioned toward the laundry room. “Do you mind if I throw a few things in the wash first? I was going to yesterday but…”
He nodded knowingly. “No problem. The detergents and stuff are in the cabinets overhead.”
“Thanks.”
She turned and walked back out to the family room and then took the stairs two at a time. By the time she got to her room, she was humming under her breath.
“You are so pathetic,” she muttered. She shouldn’t be so giddy at the prospect of spending more time with Jackson. He was just being nice; it wasn’t like they were going on a date or something.
After throwing the entire contents of her backpack in the washing machine, Ridley stood looking at the clothes swirling around through the clear glass panel on the front. It was tempting to just stand there all day and let herself be hypnotized by the motion. Anything was better than thinking about the events of the past few days and the fact that these clothes were the only things she had to her name at the moment.
“Not that I have so much back in Florida, but still.”
She’d been shaken after the accident but after a lot of prodding, a couple of bandages and a few painkillers, she was released from the hospital. The first day after the accident, she thought it was the trauma of what she’d seen that had her imagining things. Books that weren’t in the same place she’d left them. Doors left open that she knew she’d locked. Stupid stuff. It wasn’t until she came home and found her apartment completely trashed that she’d been scared. And if her mother had taught her anything, it was how to move fast.
