Chapter 33
Brynne
Like a shameless hussy, I close my eyes and inhale. Despite the wind and the cold, I can still smell his cologne. I tighten my arms around him as he maneuvers through the snow. Despite his snow boots, he slips, and I tighten my arms more. I can see he’s trying to retrace his steps from when he entered the building, and I’m left wondering why he returned. He didn’t take anything with him, and whatever files he needs, he’d be able to access from home. When he steps through the lobby of his posh building, I feel relief, but I’m reluctant to slide off his back. I don’t do it until we get inside the elevator. We don’t speak, and I’m kicking myself for not leaving the building hours ago like everyone else did.
The doors open on the seventh floor, and I follow him down the hall into the last unit. I’m shocked when I see that his apartment has two levels. The downstairs is open and has hardwood floors. There’s a fireplace in the living room, and I yearn to stand in front of it and get warm. He has a brown leather couch, a matching recliner, and a large flat-screen television, but the apartment’s smell gets me.
It smells like home cooking, and I remember him telling me that he cooks. I don’t know what it is, but my stomach growls loudly at the aroma. It growls so loud I get embarrassed, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear.
“If you want to change out of your wet clothes or take a shower, there are three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. My bedroom is over there.” He points to a door down the hall. “It has an adjoining bathroom. You’re free to use it if you want.”
I don’t bother to respond, especially to the last thing he said. I remove my boots and pull off my damp socks. My feet feel like two blocks of ice. After picking up my bag, I run upstairs. I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t turn around.
The first door I open is a large and lavish office. He has two monitors, an oak desk, and a black leather chair. But it’s what I see on the wall that gets me. He has the sketch I drew of him framed and hanging on the wall. Above that is my straw hat that flew into his yard on the first day. I promptly close the door and check the room across the hall.
It’s a small bedroom, and I drop my suitcase on the floor. I dig through it and find a pair of gray sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt. There’s no adjoining bathroom, but I find one down the hall. It’s pristine, with a clawfoot tub and a separate shower. It looks like a picture in a magazine. It’s so nice, I’m loathe to use it, but I’m shivering and desperately need a shower. The stall is decorated with tile in various shades of blue, with three showerheads above.
After putting on my shower cap, I turn the water on.
I get dressed, put on a pair of fuzzy socks, and return downstairs. Colin’s in the kitchen, and his back is to me while he checks something in the oven. I walk across the room, and by the time I get there, he’s closed the oven. That’s when I notice that the table is set for two. It almost looks romantic, and I wonder if he has plans with someone else.
“I can stay upstairs if Tigerlilly is coming over.”
He stands straight, and several seconds pass before he faces me. “Her name is Francesca, and she’s not coming over,” he says.
“Oh?” I arch an eyebrow. Of all things, I never thought he was a playboy. “Well, whoever she is, I can—”
“There’s a blizzard out there. Who do you think I have coming over?” he asks. He sounds a little testy, which I’m not used to from him. “The other place setting is for you. Sit. Dinner is just about ready.”
He pulls a roasted chicken out of the oven and a platter of mashed potatoes. There’s already a bowl of green beans on the table. My stomach growls again and my mouth waters. He gestures to one of the place settings.
“Why are you here making my favorite dinner?” I ask with my eyes narrowed.
“You know, Brynne, it’s possible that you’re not the only person on earth who likes to eat this.”
“And you were going to eat it all by yourself?” Something about this doesn’t seem right. He just shows up at the office out of the blue, and now he’s made my favorite meal.
“There’s such a thing as leftovers. Please, sit,” he says through clenched teeth. I eye him and the food again. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I can admit to myself that having me here is a kindness.
“Well, you don’t have to feed me. I appreciate you taking me in, but I’ve already imposed enough on you; I can’t expect you to give me food, too.”
He stares at me before rolling his eyes. “So, you’re not going to eat for the next few days?”
“I have TicTacs in my purse and a handful of chocolates I found on Heath’s desk.” I’d sooner starve than eat them; I only took them because it will piss him off.
“Those are his special chocolates from Belgium. He will have a fit when he gets back to work.” I roll my eyes. As if I give a damn what that little jerk feels about some stupid chocolates. “He’s not a little jerk,” Colin says, and I realize I must have said that out loud.
“Okay. You’re right. He’s a tall, annoying jerk.” I snatch my purse, pull out my TicTacs, and sit on the couch. I realize I only have two.
“Are you going to ration those over the next few days? Do you want a knife so you can cut them? Maybe you can have a tiny piece once every few hours.” He stands over me, reaches for my breath mints, and snatches them. “You’re my guest. I heard your stomach growl about four times since I saw you. Stop being so damn stubborn and eat.” He opens the container and puts them both in his mouth. He looks me in the eyes as he chews them.
My stomach growls again, and I look out the window. It’s pitch-black outside, and the tree branches scrape against the window. Even in the dark, I can see the flurries flying around outside. There’s no way I’m leaving tonight. I might not even be able to go tomorrow. I’m stuck, and I’m already starving.
He pulls out a chair and sits himself at the other one. Resigned, I approach the table and sit down. He serves himself, and I do the same. After the first bite of chicken, I close my eyes at how delicious it is. It has to be because I’m hungry. The mashed potatoes are seasoned perfectly and with the right amount of garlic flavor. They’re creamy and buttery, just the way I like them.
I forget my unease of being here with him and eat as if this is my last meal. Everything is delicious, and after I finish my plate, I help myself to more. Throughout, we don’t speak, but he eyes me often, and when I take seconds, his lips curl into a small smile.
I eat until I’m full, then I wash my meal down with a cold bottle of water. Once I’m done, I lean back in the chair, satisfied.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome. I know my meal is not on the same level as TicTacs, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
I feel a blush spread across my cheeks.
“Let me clean up as a thank you.” Since there is hardly any food left, I start to clear the table. He helps me. I rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher. By the time I’m done, he’s wiped down the table.
I look around, unsure of what to do now. It’s barely eight o’clock, and if I was with Raven like planned, we’d be up late talking and eating with a true crime documentary on in the background.