NORA
I woke slowly the next morning, the kind of wake-up where your brain lags a few seconds behind your eyes.
The ceiling above me was unfamiliar.
The walls were the wrong color.
For a brief, disorienting moment, I wondered if I’d accidentally crashed at a friend’s apartment and forgotten how I’d gotten there.
But then it all came rushing back.
Theo suddenly appearing beside my bed.
The smoke.
The way the roof had caved in.
I pushed myself up on my elbows, blinking around the softly lit room.
I was at Theo’s house. This was his guest room.
I reached instinctively for my phone on the nightstand to check the time.
My hand met empty wood.
Right.
Because my phone was still at the house.
Probably melted.
Probably sitting in a pile of ash with everything else I owned.
I swallowed and glanced toward the window. Sunlight slanted in at a steep angle, warm and bright across the carpeted floor.
It was late morning. Possibly already noon.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, taking in the room properly now that I was fully awake. It was beautiful. Put together in a way that felt intentional and layered. Soft blues, creamy whites, textures that made the space feel cozy without trying too hard.
Alisha had decorated this room.
I was almost certain of it.
Theo had many strengths, but coordinating throw pillows with the art on the wall probably wasn’t one of them.
I padded over to the full-length mirror in the corner, and when I took in my reflection, I frowned.
I looked rumpled.
Yep, if Theo had fallen for the illusion I’d been trying to give off over the past two weeks that I woke up looking put together, he was definitely going to discover the truth now.
My hair was a mess around my shoulders, and the black oversized T-shirt he’d given me swallowed my frame entirely.
But while part of me felt embarrassed to be seen like this, there was also a small, secret warmth flickering in my chest at the knowledge that I was wearing his clothes.
Yep. Clearly my attempt to squash my little crush on him wasn’t working very well if I was this giddy to be wearing his clothes.
I pulled on the corner of the sleeve, brought it to my nose, and inhaled.
Dang. Too bad they didn’t smell like him.
If only Jessie wasn’t so good at her job. Since, thanks to Jessie, they smelled like fresh laundry. I would definitely be snooping around Theo’s laundry room next week, though, to see what type of detergent and fabric softener Jessie used. Because man, I’d never worn laundry that smelled this good.
My gaze drifted back to the bed and the impossibly soft blanket pooled there. It had been like sleeping enveloped in a cloud. I hadn’t slept that well in months. Curious, I crossed the room and flipped the corner over to check the tag.
Yep, just as expected, it was the same brand as the fuzzy blanket Lucy had on her bed at home.
Or rather… the blanket and bed she used to have.
A heaviness pressed against my ribs.
Stupid fire.
Stupid old house that had gone up like dry paper.
Had the ancient air conditioner we’d shoved into the window actually been too much for the wiring to handle? Was that what had finally done the place in?
Oh well. Hopefully, the insurance money for the rebuild would finally push our landlord Mr. Whitaker to invest in central air.
Too bad I wouldn’t get to enjoy it since I couldn’t exactly wait however long it took to reconstruct a hundred-year-old Victorian.
The thought made my stomach tighten.
Ugh, I didn’t want to think about that. I just wanted to crawl back under that luxurious blanket and ignore everything I needed to do to get my life back on track.
I should probably make sure Lucy knew, though. It might be bad if she tried to go home, saw the wreckage, and wondered if I’d died in the fire.
A chill moved through me at the image of how close I’d come to being under the roof when it collapsed. I definitely wouldn’t have survived that.
After a quick stop in the upstairs bathroom where I splashed some water on my face and used one of Charlotte’s brushes to tame my hair into something socially acceptable, I made my way downstairs.
The clothes Theo had ordered for me should be here by now.
Using his phone last night to pick out some clothes—including underwear and bras—had been slightly mortifying.
Of course, he’d been nothing but respectful about it, handing me the phone and stepping away without hovering. But still…
The fact that he could just check in on that order and find out that I preferred my bras with a little extra padding to help perk my B-cups up a little was not something I wanted to think too much about.
Not that he would. He’d been married for three years. I was sure nothing about women’s underwear fazed him at this point.
The man had helped deliver a child, for goodness’ sake.
But yeah, I just didn’t need to think about the fact that my boss had bought me underwear last night.
When I stepped into the kitchen, Theo stood at the stove with his back to me, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of a plain white T-shirt. Morning light poured in through the windows, catching in his hair and outlining the steady line of his posture.
For a man who’d carried someone out of a burning house twelve hours earlier, he looked infuriatingly put together.
“Good morning,” he said, turning when he heard me.
His eyes did a quick sweep over me, taking in the oversized shirt and bare legs, but he recovered smoothly and gestured toward the skillet. “Feel like a breakfast burrito?”
“That would be amazing,” I said, crossing farther into the room. “I didn’t realize you could cook.”
“It’s just breakfast burritos.” He gave a low chuckle. “Don’t get your hopes up too high. There’s a reason Jessie preps those meals for you to cook during the week.”
“Well, I’m sure these burritos will be amazing,” I said, leaning against the counter.
He handed me a plate once everything was assembled, and we moved to the island. I took a bite.
And promptly made a moaning sound I instantly regretted.
“Oh my gosh. This is so good.”
His eyebrows lifted. “It’s eggs, cheese, and salsa.”
“No, really.” I took another bite to prove my point. “This is actually delicious.”
A faint flush crept up his neck, and he ducked his head like he wasn’t sure what to do with the compliment. “Glad it meets your very high burrito standards.”
“It exceeds them.”
He shook his head, grinning behind his coffee mug before taking a sip.
“So,” he said after a moment, tone turning more serious, “I was thinking we should probably go get you a new phone after breakfast. And pick up some other things from the store.”
His gaze moved over me again, more thoughtfully this time. “I didn’t even think about hygiene stuff or makeup when we ordered clothes last night.” He pointed toward a stack of bags on the counter. “Your clothes arrived, by the way.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And yeah… I guess I need everything. I might have used Charlotte’s hairbrush last night and this morning. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” he said easily. “And since you do her hair most days, you can be pretty confident that she didn’t pass on any lice, too.”
“That’s so comforting.” I laughed, the tension easing in my shoulders.
“We can also swing by your bank,” he continued. “See about getting you a new debit card. Which one do you use?”
“State Bank on South Main.”
He checked his watch. “If we leave in the next thirty minutes, we might catch them before they close for lunch.”
“Are you really okay using your day off helping me with all of this?” I asked, feeling guilty. “This was supposed to be your kid-free weekend.”
“It’s fine,” he said, brushing it off. “I didn’t have anything planned for today. And I’m guessing your keys didn’t survive.”
“Nope.” My stomach dropped at the reminder.
“So we’ll need to deal with that, too.”
“Yay for losing literally everything,” I muttered.
He gave me a sympathetic look.
“Did you call Lucy?” I asked suddenly. “I didn’t want her to just drive over and think I’d died in the fire.”
“I scheduled a text last night,” he said. “So she wouldn’t panic if she tried to head home.”
Relief washed through me. “Thank you. I was worried she’d freak out.”
“She did freak out,” he admitted with a small grin. “Called me at eight thirty.”
“Oh no. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I managed to fall back asleep after.”
I took another bite of my burrito, then hesitated. “Do you think the bank will give me a debit card without my ID?”
He considered that. “I’m not sure.”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Turns out a house fire can really complicate everything.”
After breakfast, I changed into one of the new outfits from the bags on the counter, silently grateful that years of online shopping had trained me to know my sizes almost exactly.
We called the bank before heading over.
As it turned out, I did need a photo ID to have them print a new debit card.
So instead of wasting time at the bank, I logged into my account on Theo’s laptop, reported the card stolen, and ordered a replacement to be mailed out.
I just had to wait three to five business days.
The phone store smelled faintly like plastic and new electronics, which felt oddly comforting after the lingering scent of smoke that still seemed embedded somewhere in my brain.
I stood at the counter while the employee tapped away at the screen, trying to get my replacement phone activated under Ky’s plan.
“Can I just charge it to the card on file?” I asked, hoping this part would be easy.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t do that without permission from the account holder.” The store employee gave me an apologetic smile. “But if you have a card with you…”
Of course.
Right. That made sense.
My pulse ticked up anyway.
“Okay,” I said, trying to sound normal. “That’s fine. I’ll just call my brother really quick so he can talk to you.” I turned toward Theo. “Can I borrow your phone to call Ky?”
But before I could reach for it, Theo handed the girl behind the desk his black Amex, saying, “Here, just charge it to this.”