Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
“Idon’t know how to feel about the fact that you have a blow dryer.” Ferd stared at Duke’s well-appointed bathroom in his immaculate apartment.
“Never said you could use it.” He flashed her a smile.
She opened her mouth to protest, then realized he was teasing her. Teasing. “Okay, you got me. Can I use your hair dryer?” She scrunched her sopping wet curls and drops fell to his clean floor.
“As long as you don’t do that again, yes. In fact, use anything in my home, just don’t do that again.”
Duke’s sense of humor was so different. Not bad, just unique. So different from Connor, or Dad, or even Hunter . . . Nope. Not going there. He may have deadpanned his comeback, but his eyes told her he enjoyed every second of seeing how she’d react to his real personality.
“Thanks. I won’t leave a mess.” She peeled her jacket off and hung it on a hook in the bathroom. “At least I brought extra clothes with me.”
“Good. You’ll need them. I’ve decided I can’t put off going to his apartment again any longer. We’ve seen so many versions of Bailey. I need to know who this guy really was.”
“Good plan.” She closed the door and flipped on the vent fan.
All the time on the boat, she’d done her best to hide her distress, but now she didn’t have to.
Her fingers were bright white and shook from the cold.
Looking in the mirror, her cheeks were far too pale.
Hot water it is. She twisted the knob until it was almost to the hottest setting and pulled it, releasing the flow.
After a minute to let it heat to the fullest, she got in.
Duke’s soap choices were interesting. She’d expected a guy like him to use a bar of soap with a washcloth, but he had three different body washes, two different shampoos, and even an older bottle of conditioner with yellowing around the cap, shoved to the back.
Someone else had lived here with him. When she’d broken up with Hunter, she’d needed friends and hadn’t had them.
Anna had been far away, back at Wayside with her own troubles.
Ferd lifted the bottle and deeply sniffed the conditioner.
Apple blossoms. Not a scent she’d ever encountered near Duke.
In fact, she’d never once noted what he smelled like.
But if it had been apple blossoms, she might have given him a jab about it. Now she was glad she hadn’t. Breakups hurt. She carefully put the bottle back exactly as she found it and finger-combed through her hair instead of using the scent of someone who might give him bad memories.
After toweling off and changing into clean dry clothes, she met Duke in the living room. The apartment was everything she had expected. Mostly furniture and bare walls except for a glass-beaded red rose hanging above the television. It looked handmade.
He’d already changed and re-styled his hair. He looked up at her, then back down at what he was doing. “Find everything okay?”
“Yeah, thanks.” She sat down in the large armchair to his right. “When did you want to go?”
“Thought we could grab something to eat here first. I’ve got everything we need for sandwiches.” He cocked his toward his cavernous kitchen. “Assuming you like sandwiches. I never know these days if I have to be careful what I suggest.”
She held in the gentle reassurance she’d normally give. This was his home, a place he’d been absolutely himself. He wanted honesty. “I’m not afraid of a few carbs. My bigger worry is if you’ve got decent water to go with it.”
“The tap is garbage, but I’ve got bottled in the little pantry. It’s in the corner. Warm. But there’s ice in the freezer.” He stood. “Can I make one for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”
She stood. “I can. Thanks though.”
In the kitchen, he got out a few varieties of meat, some sourdough from the grocery store, cheese, and mayo, then laid them out on the counter next to a plate. “I have red onion there if you want it, but I only eat that on salads, so they always go bad before I finish them.”
More evidence of someone else having lived here before. He probably started buying them for her salads, got used to it, and now likes them but can’t finish them. “At least it’s not an expensive thing.”
He swiped a thick layer of mayo over one slice of bread. “Nope. I should probably just quit buying them, but it’s a habit.”
“I have a few of those of my own.” She squeezed mayonnaise over one slice of bread.
Did she have scars left over, visible if someone would actually look?
Probably. Maybe that was why Connor had been so protective when she first arrived.
He read people like books. She hadn’t been able to tell him the reason she’d taken a bullet.
He’d assumed she was in over her head. Not incompetent, but too green to be doing what she had been.
That wasn’t the case.
“You okay? You froze. Do I stink or something?” Duke said, bending slightly and sniffing. “I did try a new body wash today.” He raised his brows.
She set down the butter knife and anchored herself to the counter. “I’m fine. Today just made me really glad for closed doors in my life. That’s all.”
“Just remember they can be a blessing while still being hard.” He took his plate and headed for the two-seat dining table in the corner.