Not ridiculous.
Just large enough to make a point.
There is a fireplace here too, already lit, low flames flickering against the walls. I don’t remember him turning it on. That tracks. Mark seems to do things withoutannouncing them and somehow everything ends up exactly where it needs to be.
I shift the towel and exhale.
I met him tonight.
That thought still surprises me.
Tonight.
A pub. A drink. One very questionable decision.
And now this.
A house by the sea. His bed. Mark downstairs.
Stop.
The door opens before I can disappear too far into that particular mess.
Mark steps in with my bag.
“Thought you might want this.”
“Very considerate.”
He sets it down by the bed. “Heath’s up.”
I peer at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Eating like nothing happened.”
Relief moves through me, warm and immediate.
“Good,” I say, quieter than I mean to. “That’s good.”
Mark watches me for a second, and I try not to dwell on the fact that he checked. That he noticed I would need to know.
“He’s tougher than he looks,” he says.
“He’s dramatic,” I correct.
Mark grins. “I like him.”
I grin. “I’ll add you to Heath’s birthday invite list.”
“Exclusive event?”
“Very. He doesn’t trust easily.”
“Glad I made the cut.”
Then he reaches for his wardrobe.
Shorts. T-shirt.
