Chapter 8 #2
Her dark brown skin has pretty, subtle yellow undertones, and her eyes are a medium shade of brown.
Her relaxed hair is cut short, the tips hanging an inch or so past her chin, and parted slightly off center to frame a delicate, round face.
As our eyes meet, her full, pouty lips pull up into a small but friendly smile.
She’s shorter than I thought. It must be the way she carries herself. There’s an air of poise and confidence hanging around her that makes Blair’s five, two—maybe five, three—height seem inconsequential.
She’s dressed in a black tank top and black pants, her outfit completed with a pair of black boots.
Her exposed arms are toned, her stomach flat, and her thighs, though on the thicker side and give her a natural curve to her body, are muscular.
Well, shit. Cold stone killer? That I expected, and I was right in that assessment.
But a petite bombshell? Nope, didn’t see that coming.
“Hi,” she greets before I can. “It’s Wesley, right?”
“To most, yeah but you can call me Wes,” I reply. “That’s what I make my friends call me.”
Blair’s smile widens some. She takes a step into the kitchen, swiping up a black tactical bag from the floor behind her, and moves to place it on the island. I eye it curiously. She’d had nothing with her when we picked her up last night. Where’d she get the bag, let alone the stuff inside of it?
“Whatcha got there?” I ask.
“A bug out bag,” she explains with a simple shrug. “Ledger left one in the closet for me.”
I raise a brow. “And you brought it down because…?”
“I’m headed out. I got a few hours of sleep and now I feel much better. Thanks for helping out last night. Maybe one day I can return the favor.”
I lean back against the edge of the counter and cross my arms over my chest as I study her.
“Ledger didn’t mention you were leaving.”
Blair shrugs. “He doesn’t know, but I can’t wait around for him. I left a note on my dresser. Maybe you can tell him I said good-bye? I need to go.”
I frown. “I thought this is where you were supposed to be lying low?”
“Apparently, there’s been some miscommunication.” Her quick response is sharp, full of sass, and comes with a challenging hand-on-the-hip gesture. “My dad can’t face trouble alone. I’m going to go find and help him.”
My frown flips as my lips quirk upward. I know she’s supposed to look intimidating, but there’s nothing I find more attractive than a woman with a bit of an attitude.
“Well, Ledger’s not usually wrong but I suppose there’s always a first for everything.” I shrug. “In any case, since he’s expecting you to be here when he gets back, I think it’s best you stay put. Otherwise, you’ll put me in a tough position.”
Her pretty, large brown eyes narrow. “Tough position?”
“I promised I’d help look after you. Can’t do that when you’re not here.”
I chuckle at her exasperated eye roll as she replies, “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No, ma’am, you probably don’t,” I agree. “But what about a friend?”
Blair’s lips purse as she considers the offer. I take advantage of her momentary hesitation and step aside so she can see the food behind me.
“While you ponder on that, how about some breakfast?”
I don’t give her time to respond. Quickly, I turn and make her a plate. When it’s full, I carry it over to the island and place the plate right beside her backpack. Giving her a warm smile, I even pull out the barstool for her.
“You made these?” she asks as she drifts closer to inspect the food.
“Sure did. How about you take a bite and tell me how I did, while I clean up the mess I made?” I offer.
The attitude melts off her face as she takes a seat. It takes everything in me to fight a smug smile. Food always works in my favor.
“I guess it would be rude to skip out on such a delicious-looking meal,” she says begrudgingly, shooting me a warm smile. “Thank you.”
I wave off her gratitude. “No need to thank me, I enjoy cooking.”
She picks up a taco and takes a bite. The loud, seductive moan that comes after she swallows is more appropriate for a pornstar—not a bite of breakfast.
“What did you put in these?” Blair asks. Before I can answer she begins to list the ingredients. “Onions, garlic, peppers… is that a bit of cayenne? There’s cumin, and…”
I glance at her over my shoulder to find her eyeing the taco as if expecting that it will tell her the rest of its ingredients.
“Red pepper flakes and a pinch of brown sugar,” I tell her. “You have a sharp palate."
“Brown sugar?” she repeats, her expression brightening as she looks at me.
“To sweeten it just a bit.”
She hums, the sound thoughtful. “I’ll have to try this next time.”
“Do you cook much?” I ask.
“I try to. There’s nothing like a home-cooked meal to make you feel settled somewhere.”
Her answer surprises me. I put down the dirty dishes and turn back to face her. “What’s that mean?”
She covers her mouth with her hand as she finishes the large bite she’d taken.
When she’s done chewing, it falls away, and she answers, “I’m a traveling nurse so I don’t have a home, per se.
I kind of just go wherever the wind takes me.
But I don’t mind it as long as I have a good hearty meal every time I make it back to whatever apartment or hotel I’m staying at. ”
I smile. “Well, you’ll get a lot of home-cooked meals here if you stick around. You don’t even have to cook it. The kitchen is my domain.”
“Oh yeah? You don’t share the kitchen space?” She raises a brow. “Or you just don’t like the idea of a little friendly cooking competition?”
I laugh at her playfulness. “You think you could out cook me?”
"I didn’t say that.” She counters before finishing her last taco. When she’s done, she stands and brings over her plate. “I just wanted to know if the kitchen was off limits to everyone.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I give her a pointed look. “I’ll need to test your cooking skills before I loosen the reins here.” I pause for a moment, thinking quickly. “How about I grill us all something tonight, and you make a side dish?”
The flash of intuitiveness is bright in Blair’s eyes. She knows what I’m trying to do. Agreeing to cook a side means she’s staying another evening. The playfulness in her expression fades some but her smile doesn’t vanish altogether.
“Alright, I can do that.”
“Great,” I grin. “In the meantime, if you’re up to it, I’d like to give you a tour of the property and properly introduce you to the guys.”
Blair’s eyes narrow on me, her suspicion in full view. She doesn’t trust me, probably because she doesn’t know me. I’m sure she’s also deduced that I’m helping Ledger, who according to Rhett, and judging by her attitude, she’s a little pissed off at.
Rather than answer, she grabs her plate and comes over to the sink. Unlike the others, who left their stuff for me to clean, she turns on the faucet and grabs the sponge.
“I’m going to do the dishes, since you were kind enough to feed me,” she tells me matter-of-factly. “Then you can take me on that tour. Deal?”
I nod as I grab for the dish towel and dry my hands.
“Deal.”