I don't try to invade her headspace by talking. My words can’t possibly help with whatever is clouding her mind.
She looks at me. “I just realized I don't know anything about where you live. What floor. If you have roommates. If you're a serial killer with bodies in the freezer.”
“Penthouse. No roommates. And the bodies are in a storage unit across town. The freezer's reserved for ice cream.”
Her lips twitch. The corner of her mouth lifts just slightly before she catches it.
She gives me a sidelong glance. “That's not comforting.”
I wink. “Just trying to be transparent.”
Adriana rolls her eyes and I can tell she wants to chuckle. But she doesn’t. Damn, I want to crack her so badly. I want to hear belly laughs, legit guffaws. Maybe I need to change my approach.
She twists that ring, faster and faster as the elevator climbs.
The doors open directly into the penthouse. I pick up her bags. She only brought two suitcases and a garment bag. Enough luggage for a week, maybe two. The rest of her things will come later.
I set her bags down and step aside to let her in first.
She stops two feet past the threshold and looks around.
“This is… not what I expected.”
I look around. It’s a bachelor pad for sure. Minimalist with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. No clutter. No photos. No evidence that anyone actually lives here. It pretty much looks like it’s been staged for a real estate showing.
“What did you expect?”
“I don't know.” She takes a tentative step forward. “Weapons hanging on the walls. Taxidermy. A throne made of skulls.”
“Oh, yeah, the skull throne is on backorder.”
She snorts. It's the most relaxed sound I've heard from her all day.
“I can give you a tour?—"
Then I hear it. Claws on hardwood. The thundering gallop of eighty pounds of pure enthusiasm.
Shit. I forgot to warn her.
Reaper, my German shepherd, rounds the corner like a freight train. He's all muscle, with scars and one torn ear. His previous owners used him for fighting before I pulled him out of that hellhole three years ago. He looks like he could tear through a car door.
He's also the world's biggest marshmallow.
Adriana freezes. Her whole body goes rigid as he skids to a stop right in front of her.
“What. Is. That.” She barely moves her lips, staring at Reaper like he’s going to chew off one of her limbs.
“That's Reaper.” I step between them, not because he'd hurt her, but because she doesn't know that yet. “He's harmless.”
“He looks like he eats people for breakfast,” she whispers.
“Only the ones who deserve it.”
Reaper sits at my feet, tail wagging so hard his whole back end wiggles. He stares at Adriana with pure adoration. Love at first sight, apparently.
“Does he bite?” she asks.
“Only his toys. And the occasional pillow.” I crouch down and scratch behind his ear. “He's a rescue. The scars are from before I got him. He's been nothing but a pile of mush since.”
