Page 13 of Come A Little Closer

“Well, one would think so, but you haven’t touched anything in your fridge. Should I have ordered something else? I don’t mind restocking if I’ve somehow⁠—”

“It’s not the food,” she said quickly, interrupting me, but with a smile on her face. “I’ve never lived alone before and I don’t really cook for myself. I did touch the cereal in the pantry last night, if that makes you feel better.”

“You had cereal for dinner?”

She inclined her head at me. “It’s the best. What did you have?”

“Coq au vin,” I replied absently, wondering about her background before she’d come to New Orleans. “Do you always have cereal for dinner, and if so, what do you have for breakfast?”

She shrugged. “Coffee.”

I found myself chuckling at her—again—and I was so surprised that I spun back to the fridge to buy a moment to collect myself. “Well, not today. Today, I’m cooking breakfast for you. Eggs and sausages. You’re not a vegetarian, right?”

“Definitely not.” She fixed her own coffee before glancing at me as I carried what I needed to the stove. “Do you take cream and sugar?”

“Nope. I take it dark and bitter.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she asked jokingly, handing over my mug.

I reached for a pan hanging above the stove and chuckled again, wondering why it came so naturally with her when I didn’t usually relax around anyone but Jake. Maybe because we had shared a bed. “Where are you from?”

“California,” she said, but when she didn’t elaborate, I figured it was because she didn’t want to talk about it. She tended to ramble on about stuff, so in her case, being mum about something spoke volumes.

Her response sparked something in my memory, though. “Right. I knew that, didn’t I? You told me so when I caught you sneaking around my house. Something about California and Anne Rice.”

She laughed as she sat at the kitchen table and turned so she could watch me cook. “I wasn’t sneaking. I paid for a tour and we got lost. That’s what happens when you take a friend with you who’s trying to distract herself from her fear.”

“She was that scared?” I asked mildly. “In my house? Funny, I’ve always found the place to be rather welcoming.”

“Only people like you and I would find an old, gothic mansion with a dark history welcoming,” she said, but I couldn’t tell if she was joking.

“Most of that dark history is nonsense,” I told her. “From what I’ve been able to find out, the Ramparts were primarily a very tight knit, loving family.”

“What about the daughter they chained to her bed because she was mentally ill?”

I scoffed. “Nonsense. There are birth records for a total of five daughters being born to any Rampart who ever lived in that house. It seems they were more inclined to have sons. But I managed to track each one of those daughters and none of them died under mysterious circumstances.”

“Well, that’s a disappointment.”

I frowned. “It’s a disappointment that the family didn’t chain one of their own to a bed and let her die?”

Tallulah’s eyes widened and she paused for a moment. Then she laughed. “When you put it that way, I feel like an asshole for having wanted it to be true. I suppose it’s a good story to draw people in, though. Makes it sound like they were evil enough as a family for that house to be particularly haunted.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I’m quite sure that’s precisely why they started the rumors. Anything to make a buck or two when you’re in need of some cash.”

She pouted, pulling my attention to her cherry red lips. They were so full and pronounced that I suddenly had the urge to kiss them. To taste her sugar-laden coffee on them.

That surge of attraction I’d felt earlier shot through me again, and for a moment, I wondered if I should turn on the charm. Few people ever got the opportunity to discover that I had a charming side, but my mother had raised a proper gentleman and I hadn’t forgotten anything she’d taught me. I simply chose to ignore it the vast majority of the time.

The more I was around Tallulah Pruette though, the more I wanted her to discover that part of me. After last night and this morning, I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to her in a way I’d never been attracted to anyone before.

When I’d first seen her, I’d been attracted to her physically, of course. The woman was sexy, with all those curves and the confidence to work them as she walked. Now, however, I found the attraction was deeper than just that.

Physically, it was still there, but I also wanted to know her, which wasn’t like me at all. In the end, as I cooked the sausages and cracked a few eggs into a separate pan, I fought that instinct to charm her. She was my employee, regardless of everything else. She couldn’t be anything more than that. Any attempts to get closer to her would end poorly.

“Do you really think the Ramparts made it up?” she asked. “I mean, it’d be a good thing if they didn’t chain one of their own to a bed. I get that, but do you really believe they made up a rumor that vile for money?”

“I think one of their distant relatives did,” I said. “The Ramparts of old were incredibly well off. They were one of the most affluent families around for generations. They were held in high esteem by their community, they worked their way up in business and in the military, and for a long time, Lady Luck seemed to favor them.”