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I really do make a mean breakfast. Rick’s words slid through her mind.
Charlie cleared her throat, because damn, she needed not to think about Rick. Or all that hot sex.
She and Davis ate in silence for a few moments and then Charlie put down her fork, brows furrowed as she stared across the table at Davis.
“So, Connor, was he actually trying to play the piano?”
Davis shrugged, swallowing the last bit of his coffee. “Hard to tell. Like I said, the thing is a piece of crap and most of the hammers don’t work.” Davis cocked his head to the side. “Why?”
“When we were looking at the Shelby the other day, Rick had a keyboard set up and Connor started playing it. Random notes, nothing more, but he’s been so closed off ever since…” she exhaled, eyes on Davis. She didn’t need to explain. “He showed some interest and I’m wondering if it’s something I need to explore. I mean, he’s got to come around, don’t you think? He can’t stay this way forever.”
Throat tight, she couldn’t continue, so she grabbed at her toast but truthfully, her appetite had fled.
“I think he’ll come around in his own time and that’s pretty much what all those doctors have said. You just gotta be patient, Charlie.”
“Yeah, well, patience isn’t exactly a thing that I’m good at.”
“Tell me about it.”
She threw her toast at him, but Davis caught it and popped it into his mouth and they finished their breakfast in relative quiet. When they were done, she loaded the plates into the dishwasher while he cleaned up the counter.
“You know, life would be great if the two of us were into each other.”
“Don’t I know it,” Davis replied with a chuckle.
She leaned against the countertop and smiled. A few years back, after one too many tequilas, he’d kissed her. And apart from the fact that she’d been with Jeremy at the time, they’d agreed that the kiss was not only a mistake, it had been plain awful.
“Okay, so you’re good to go for tomorrow?” Davis asked. He worked Saturdays alone and she worked Mondays. That way she had the weekend with Connor and he had two days off in a row as well.
“Yep,” she said, following him to the door. He paused then and turned to her, that smart-ass grin lighting up his face once more. “Did you by chance drive out to the McLaren place last night?”
“Wow, that was random.” Fuckedy-fuck. “Why would you ask that?”
He shrugged. “You don’t look like you had a quiet night is all.”
Her hand drifted to her messy knot of hair.
“In fact, you look like you’ve hardly slept.” He cocked his head to the side. “Or maybe that’s because your eye makeup is smudged.”
Damn.
“And your cheek…”
Her hand drifted to her skin and she winced for the first time. What the hell?
“Is it sore?” Davis asked with a wink. “Kind of looks like rug burn or I don’t know…like some guy who hasn’t shaved was up close and personal.”
Busted.
“Will you just stop,” she said. Dammit. Rick’s stubble had gotten her good.
Davis chuckled and headed outside.
“How did you know I went to see Rick?” she shouted after him.
“I didn’t.” He didn’t bother to turn around, but then he didn’t need to. “But now I do.”
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