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“Felicity, I’m coming in.”
I hear the key in the door and then Sutton rushes inside, looking ready to avenge my honor.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, breathless.
He looks around the room and when he doesn’t see anything but me standing on my bed, shaking, he frowns.
“There’s a mouse in here.” My voice wobbles and I point a shaky finger toward the couch where I last saw him. “Under there.”
His lips twitch and then his eyes wander down the length of me, his mouth parting slightly. I feel my nipples jut out and I wrap my arms around my waist, willing them to calm down.
He swallows hard and looks where I’ve pointed. “A mouse.”
His voice is hoarse and he nods like he suddenly understands.
“Okay,” he says.
He moves to the kitchen and gets a paper bag from the cabinet and then moves toward the couch. When he moves the couch, the mouse tries to escape and he scoops it into the bag.
“You made that look easy.” I climb off of the bed and point to the bag. “What will you do with it?”
“I’ll take it for a little drive and leave it in a field somewhere.”
I smile. “You’re a nice man.”
“I’m not so nice,” he says. His eyes drop to my arms again when I shiver, and I see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I was also gonna say I can set up some traps if it makes you feel better.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I’d feel awful if we actually caught one. They can stay out there all they want.” I point outside. “I just have an irrational fear about mice darting against my feet.”
His lips lift. “Understandable. I’ll call Scott. He’s the local pest guy and he’s helped with keeping them from coming inside. Maybe we need to block some holes up here or something.”
“Okay. That would be great. Thank you.”
“You okay out here for tonight? You can sleep in the guest bedroom if you’d be more comfortable there.”
I must pause a little too long because he laughs.
“Come on. It’ll be good for you to be in the house with Owen anyway while I drive this mouse out to its new house.”
I hesitate again. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I already feel better—I just don’t like them catching me by surprise. But I’ll stay in the house with Owen while you’re gone. Let me just grab my robe.” I slip it on and follow him out the door.
We walk together until I reach the pathway to the house and then he veers toward the car.
“Go get warm. I’ll be home in a few,” he says.
I try to ignore the way his words make me feel all mushy inside, like I’m part of something bigger.Home.Like we’re cohabitating in a home together, which is not even reality. I don’t know why I can’t seem to keep the strict lines between us in my mind. It’s me, I know it is…being childish and letting a crush on an older man feel like everything he says is meaningful and that he feels something for me too.
It’s just not true.
I’m doing a job for him—that’s all this is.
He hasn’t done anything but treat me kindly and professionally. He’s become my friend too, and yet, I find myself making more of every gesture he makes, a romantic slant behind every word he says. It’s ridiculous and it will end up backfiring on me if I’m not careful.
When I walk inside his kitchen and shut the door behind me, I turn on the tea kettle and pick out a mug and tea. The few minutes it takes to boil are a nice break from my warring thoughts. By the time I sip my tea and he pulls into the driveway, I’ve worked on a new resolve to be more professional myself.
I like this job too much to let my silly feelings get in the way.
He walks inside and hangs up his coat, pausing when he sees me sitting on the barstool.
