Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
Exhaustion weighed on my shoulders as I dragged myself home after a long Monday at the firm. My eyes ached from reading dozens of pages of case documents, competing with my hungry stomach and heavy head for which part of my body felt the most uncomfortable.
In a tired daze, I unlocked my front door and stepped inside, only to freeze at the sound of thumping and clinking from the kitchen. My heart rate spiked as I gripped the doorknob. Did someone break in?
Then, I heard humming. Low, deep humming that seemed to float through my entire apartment, accompanied by a rich, savory smell.
Of course, I thought, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. It was Robert.
“I’m home!” I called as I set down my keys and kicked off my work heels.
Robert poked his head out of the kitchen. The sleeves of his olive-green long-sleeve shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and I couldn’t help but notice how his black joggers hung low on his waist.
“Just in time. Lasagna is ready,” Robert said with a warm smile.
“From scratch?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“It smells delicious,” I said. My stomach ached because now I was even hungrier. “Do you need help?”
“Nah, just sit down, relax, and I’ll get it plated.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile. I dropped my bag in my room, changed into comfy at-home clothes, then returned to the living area. I sat at the dining table, watching him move around the kitchen.
“I’m starving. I missed lunch because I got hit with a big case,” I said.
“Yeah? What happened?”
I gave him the rundown. I didn’t want to violate any confidentiality agreements, so I explained the case in vague terms while keeping a cautious eye out for signs of boredom. I knew law wasn’t the most exciting topic. My family never wanted to hear about work—they thought I was bragging—and past boyfriends had found it boring. But even though Robert’s attention was split between me and cutting up the lasagna, I could tell he was listening. He asked questions and hummed thoughtfully to show he was engaged.
“So, you have to argue that the contract doesn’t count? Did I get that right?”
“Yep,” I said. “It’s invalid because it was signed under duress.”
“So, do you have to go to court and prove it to a judge?”
“I don’t do that—our firm has litigators who go to court. But I work in a team to build the case.”
“That sounds really interesting.” He walked over with two plates in hand.
“Well, in reality, it’s a lot of reading and paperwork. But it’s always a good feeling when we win a case. Thank you,” I said as he placed a plate of steaming lasagna in front of me. “This looks incredible.”
“I hope you like it,” Robert said. “I’ve also got some salad—I’ll bring it out now.”
He brought out a glass bowl of garden salad and sat across from me. The smell of the food made my mouth water, and I eagerly cut into the corner of my slice. Cheesy, tomatoey flavor exploded on my taste buds.
“Oh, wow…”
Robert looked worried. “Too salty?”
I shook my head and scooped another bite into my mouth, needing to sate my hunger. “This is the best lasagna I’ve ever had.”
Robert’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “That’s a relief. This arrangement wouldn’t work all that well if I wasn’t at least a decent cook.”
“You’re not just decent—you’re amazing. What else are you secretly good at?”
He chuckled as he pierced a piece of lettuce with his fork. “Well, I’m good with my hands.”
My eyes fell to his hands. They were so large, they made the knife and fork he held look like toys.
I swallowed, imagining how those big, strong hands would feel. “How are you, uh, good with your hands?”
“Building requires me to use them a lot, so I’m pretty dexterous.”
Right. Of course, that’s what he meant. I hoped he couldn’t tell that the first thing I thought of was those hands on my hips. On my thighs—
“I see,” I said, hoping my cheeks weren’t burning. “I don’t use my hands much for work, unless you count typing.”
“Typing counts,” Robert said.
I laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those old people who can’t type on a computer.”
He grinned. “I’m not that old. But I will say, I’m nowhere near as fast as Mike when he’s texting on his phone.”
My smile froze. I should’ve laughed, but I was reminded that Robert had a son I’d dated. Robert was older than me. Almost twenty years older.
For a second, I’d forgotten that. It had felt like I was having dinner with a friend.
I forced a smile. “Did you even have phones when you were a kid?”
“No. Back in my day, we sent messages by carrier pigeon.”
That made me laugh. We enjoyed the rest of our meal—the salad was delicious too—and talked about our days. Robert’s work was the same as usual, and now that he was living here, it was less of a drive to get there, which was good.
“Are you settling in okay?” I asked after finishing the last bite of my lasagna.
Robert nodded. “It’s homey here. Definitely more spacious than my old place. Much better kitchen.”
“You have everything you need?” I replied, wanting him to be comfortable. “If there’s any appliances or furniture…”
“No, there’s nothing. It’s perfect. Really.”
His smile made my heart lift. I told myself it was just relief that he liked my home.
After dinner, we had a small argument over who would clean up, but I was stubborn, holding my ground that since he cooked, the least I could do was load the dishwasher. In the end, he surrendered, saying something about my “lawyer tendencies” that made me smile.
Later that evening, I settled into my usual routine, which included an hour or two of work at the dining table. I had just opened my laptop when Robert walked over.
“Mind if I join you? I want to research rentals.”
For some reason, I felt a flicker of disappointment. It was silly. We’d agreed from the start that this was a temporary arrangement until he found somewhere more suitable. He wouldn’t stay here forever.
“Sure, of course.”
With both of our laptops up and running, we sat across from each other and worked. Every so often, my eyes strayed over the top of my screen to Robert. Whenever he concentrated on reading something, a crease appeared between his eyebrows as he narrowed his eyes. It was honestly kind of sexy. He idly scratched his jaw, and for a moment, I wondered how his stubble would feel against my skin.
Then he looked up, catching me staring.
I smiled, trying not to look like I’d been caught creeping, and focused my attention back on my laptop screen.
Fifteen minutes passed, then Robert sighed, shifting in his seat. His foot brushed mine under the table, sending a shudder of warmth through me. He sat up straighter and drew his feet back. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said, thankful my voice was neutral.
Eventually, I managed to focus enough on my work to finish everything I needed to do. I closed my laptop and stood up.
“I’m going to take a shower and get ready for bed. How’d your search go?”
“Everything within my budget looks like a health and safety hazard, but I’ll keep looking.”
“Good luck,” I said with a small smile before heading to my bedroom. I set down my laptop and went into my ensuite bathroom.
The warm water of the shower relaxed my tense muscles. It had been a long, busy day, but it was nice coming home to a good dinner and someone to talk to. It was such a small thing— something almost everyone else had—but I hadn’t realized how lonely and boring living alone had been until now.
After my shower, I changed into my favorite silk pajama dress. I was about to head out when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror.
I couldn’t go out like this.
The dress was a silver, almost iridescent colour, trimmed with lace, and fell to my lower thigh. It was soft and comfortable to sleep in, but the neckline was low, revealing cleavage, and the thin material made it clear I wasn’t wearing a bra.
Sure, I used to walk around my home in it without thinking twice, but now Robert was living here.
I grabbed a fluffy white robe from my closet and wrapped it around me before heading to the kitchen to fix a cup of green tea with honey—my favorite nighttime treat.
Robert was already there with a glass of water in hand. He wore a black T-shirt and black-and-blue pajama pants.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.” I grabbed a green tea bag. “Do you want some tea? I always have a cup before bed.”
Robert shook his head. “More of a coffee guy.”
I added hot water to my mug and let the tea bag steep. “I like coffee too. You can be a coffee and tea person.”
“Maybe, but I’m not a fan of green tea. It tastes too much like grass,” he replied with a teasing smile, leaning against the kitchen island as he watched me.
“You’re missing out,” I said, tossing the tea bag and measuring a tablespoon of honey. I always used the same amount. I turned to him as I let the tea cool.
Robert chuckled, but his smile faded as his eyes slid downward.
I followed his gaze and glanced down. My robe had opened slightly, revealing my collarbone and a thin strap of my dress. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything indecent—no nip slip or anything—but Robert cleared his throat and looked away.
“I’d better get to bed.” He set his glass on the counter. “Good night, Brooke.”
“Night,” I said, my voice a little weak.
Why was he running away? It wasn’t like I’d shown him anything scandalous. Just a little skin.
I grabbed my mug, turned off the kitchen lights, and went to my bedroom. Pressing my back against the door, I held my tea as its steam curled into the air before fading away.
How long had it been since he’d seen a woman like that? Was it a few months, like me? Weeks? Days?
Surely not. He was handsome, tall, and fit. If he went to a bar, he could easily pick up a woman for the night.
There was no point dwelling on it. In the future, I’d just have to make sure my robe stayed on properly.
I crawled into bed and picked up my historical romance, but my eyes couldn’t focus on the words. My mind kept straying to the way his eyes had slid down and lingered, just for a few seconds, before he quickly looked away.