Once they were parked and had the dogs leashed up, he followed her to the front door of her three-story townhome.
She stepped aside so he could enter then shut and locked the door behind him.
His gaze roamed over the first floor of the three-story townhome. Bright-colored throw pillows mingled with soft leather. The walls were painted a soft green. The living and kitchen space were an eclectic mix of practical and whimsy. He wondered which was she? The more practical or the whimsy?
An awkward silence descended. He broke the tension by asking, “Do you mind if I clean up?”
Her eyes flared and she gestured toward a hallway. “Of course. The guest bath is the last door on the right on this floor,” she said. “I always keep fresh towels hanging. There’s everything you should need in there.” She moved to the kitchen counter. “You think Rusk would eat Haven’s food? Or can I scramble him an egg?”
“He’ll eat most anything.” He appreciated her thoughtful care of Rusk. And her thoughtfulness toward him. It had been a long time since someone other than family showed him such consideration. Rebecca hadn’t been the nurturing type.
Maren filled two bowls with dry food and set them on a rubber mat in the kitchen.
“Make yourself at home,” she told him. “My bedroom is on the top floor. The middle floor is a bonus room and an office. The guest room is across the hall from the guest bath.”
“Was the bedroom and bath on this floor your uncle’s?”
The frosted overhead lights lit her blue eyes. “It was. Though I changed everything out.” She smiled. “His style was a throwback to his youth in the sixties. Over the years, I’ve pretty much changed the whole place, since I had it to myself when Opal left.”
He noted the subtle sadness in her tone. “It must be lonely living here by yourself.”
She made a face as if regretting the slip in emotion. “I have Haven. I don’t need anyone else.”
He could relate to the sentiment. “Which is why you don’t date.”
Inclining her head, she said, “Exactly.”
It seemed they were cut from the same cloth. Two individuals determined to stay unattached and unencumbered by emotions.
For some reason, as he left her and made his way down the hall, the thought left him feeling unsettled.
* * *
While Colt freshened up, Maren did the same. She showered and changed into comfy, wide-leg, stretchy pants and a long tunic sweater that dropped off one shoulder. Her hair fell in waves over her back. It felt good to let the strands stay loose rather than in the braid or bun that she wore normally when working.
To keep herself busy as well as stave off the worry for her twin and distract herself from the fact a man was in her home, Maren prepared a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Thankfully, the bagged salad she’d bought before she’d left for Barren Valley was still good. It felt odd to be making dinner for two. For so long, she’d been alone.
But content. At least, that was the story she told herself, and if she repeated it often enough, it would be true. Telling Colt she was fine on her own wasn’t a lie. She just couldn’t admit that there were times she yearned for more. But more came with heartache that she wouldn’t accept.
She’d always prided herself on being okay with being alone. She’d convinced herself she preferred her life without any entanglements. Sure, she missed her sister, but she never really contemplated what it would be like to have someone to care for, to cook for, to love.
She couldn’t stop the little tremor of anticipation, the flicker of hope, that Colt would enjoy the meal. Even as the thought formed, she shut it down.
This wasn’t a date. This was two professionals who needed sustenance and rest before continuing their quest to find Opal and, ultimately, Shadow. Because as long as Shadow was allowed to operate, she and her sister were in danger.
And hopefully, Shadow would have intel on the baby smuggling ring that could help them find Mia Andrews.
When Colt emerged from the bathroom smelling of the apple shampoo she’d bought on a whim to put in the guest shower, her heart did a little thump. The scent would forever remind her of him.
His dark chestnut hair was damp and curling at the ends. He’d trimmed his facial hair and changed into a long-sleeve, soft-looking chambray shirt and a pair of black cargo pants.
He wore bright white socks and no shoes. For some reason, the sight had a strange impact on her, as if him being shoeless was somehow very personal and intimate. The sleeves of the chambray shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his corded forearms, which also affected her in ways she wasn’t used to. For a fleeting moment, she imagined what life would be like with a man like him. A man who gave as good as he got, a man with honor and integrity.
Rusk jumped up from his resting spot near the couch to inspect his handler. It was enough of a distraction for her to pull her attention away from Colt.
“Yum, something smells delicious,” he said as he parked himself at the end of the counter, his big body taking up space in the kitchen, though she didn’t feel crowded at all. His presence was comfortable and exhilarating at the same time.
And she really needed to get a grip.
