2 #4
Blowing out a slow breath, she willed herself to sleep. On the one hand, knowing Kam was near was enough to keep her blood
rushing through her veins. On the other hand, she wasn’t alone tonight and so she didn’t have to worry about Mike.
Tomorrow, she’d have to figure out her car, so she could get to Callie’s and tend the animals. Her cousin had inherited chickens
and goats, along with a little ratty house that she’d turned into a cozy home. For now, Callie and Tanner were staying there
for a little privacy, but after a mere two weeks, they’d move in next door to Tanner’s home with Addie.
It was a much larger place with plenty of room. Callie’s house would be remodeled, so it could be used for at-risk teens,
as a safe place for them to learn a trade, feel secure, and be guided into adulthood. Glory loved and respected that Tanner
had devoted so much of his time to helping others.
In every way, her cousin’s new husband was incredibly awesome.
Once they moved in with Addie, Kam planned to move out. Supposedly, he already had an apartment rented and was just getting it set up. Thinking about Kam, his future plans, and wondering if he’d still be nearby, or too far away for her to see him often, Glory gradually fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes again, dawn was creeping in through the window. Like a kid on Christmas morning, excitement gripped
her the moment she remembered that Kam had stayed over.
She sat up, listened, and heard a few faint, distant rumblings. Kam was already up. She left the bed, crept to the door, and
peeked out. A light was on in the kitchen, and she could smell coffee.
Quietly closing and locking her door again, she slipped into the bathroom, made sure to lock both doors, and went about making
herself presentable. She didn’t want to look like she’d done much, but obviously, she had to do something.
Liz had told her many times that with her pale lashes and brows, she looked best in full makeup. That would seem too obvious,
so after washing her face, cleaning her teeth, and brushing her hair until it was smooth, she put on just a touch of blush,
lightly lined her eyes, and applied a single coat of mascara.
Not great, but not bad, either.
She looked down at her comfortable sleep shirt. Callie would walk out wearing it and not think a thing of it, but she wasn’t
Callie. Not only was the shirt shapeless, making her look shapeless, but the loose neckline showed the thin pale scar left
on the top of her shoulder despite plastic surgery. Same with the top of her thigh.
Thinking about those scars automatically sent her hand to her nose, and then her jaw. So much pain, so many surgeries . . .
Because Callie was the best, she’d deliberately chosen a beautiful bridesmaid dress that covered her shoulder. Callie didn’t think the scars were a big deal at all, but for multiple reasons, Glory felt very, very differently about them.
Shaking that off, she darted back into the bedroom and chose skinny jeans and a loose summer top. She ruffled her hair a little,
so it wasn’t too smooth, and left her feet bare to lend credence to her “just woke up” vibe.
Trying to be casual, she went down the hall, stepped into the kitchen, and . . . What? How?
Awe put her head on a swivel as she took it all in, from one end of the room to another. Her very basic kitchen, which had
been only functioning, now looked like a designer ad. Her beautiful matching canisters were on the counter, the mug rack was
set up by the coffeepot, and a lush plant was near the window. In a daze, she drifted to the dining room and saw her large
pictures placed near where they’d hang, more plants, and her gorgeous centerpiece—the one she’d taken days to choose—was assembled
and placed in the middle of the table with a runner. Unable to take it in, she moved to the living room. Everything she’d
bought, each piece she’d so painstakingly selected but had left packed up in her garage so she could concentrate on the wedding,
was now showcased.
Everywhere she looked, she found more of the same.
She also found a very shirtless, barefoot Kam in the foyer. Bare shoulder propped on the wall, tux pants hanging low, he spoke
quietly into his cell phone.
“No, honey, not happening.” With a smile in his tone, he said, “Because I have other shit to do. No, not a woman. Come on,
we’ve been through this.”
Glory bristled. Who was he talking to so early?
“Enough of that,” he murmured low. “I have work to do. Will you be able to help or not? Great. I owe you—and no, don’t say
it. I’m not paying you like that.”
Whatever the mystery woman said in response caused him to laugh softly. “Thanks. You’re a doll. See you then.” As soon as he pocketed the phone, he got busy unpacking another box.
This was like waking up in a fairy tale—but instead of facing singing animals, there was one very big hot, sexy—shirtless—guy hanging out, decorating her house.
Since he hadn’t seemed to notice her, Glory decided to slink silently back to her room.
The second she moved, he said, “Looking is free, but feeling will cost you.”