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“Tell me what?”
“Never mind.” I turned around and ran out the door.
God, sometimes I was such a complete moron.
But I had made up my mind about one thing. I was going to learn more about Talon Steel. One way or another, I would find out what made him tick.
Those walls were coming down.
* * *
I’d been sleeping better, but I purposely set my phone to buzz at one in the morning. Maybe I could learn more about Talon during one of his midnight kitchen raids. I walked out to the kitchen, but he wasn’t there.
The next night, even though I was exhausted from my first day working with Ryan at the winery, I did the same thing.
My phone buzzed for me at one in the morning. I rose, took a quick bathroom break, combed my hair, and pinched my cheeks. I purposely didn’t put on my robe. I was wearing my trademark cotton/spandex white tank and old boxers.
I crept out into the kitchen. When I turned on the light, there sat Talon, at the same place at the table, staring a full glass of water, his dog at his feet.
“Where were you last night?” He looked up.
“I actually do try to sleep most nights.” Which was a lie, of course. He hadn’t been there last night, at least not at the same time. Was he messing with me?
I gave Roger a quick pet and then walked to the counter to begin my ritual. “Do you want some tea?” I asked over my shoulder.
“No,” he said without looking up.
Okay. Evidently, things were going to continue as usual. What was I doing? I had work in the morning, and here I was setting my damned alarm to go off in the night. This was ridiculous.
When my tea was ready, I walked to the table and sat down in my usual spot next to Talon.
“So do you ever actually drink that water you pour for yourself?”
He pursed his lips and then brought the glass to his mouth and took a drink. “Satisfied?”
Satisfied? Seriously? “Do you really think I care if you drink your water?”
“Well, you appear to, since you asked.”
“Unbelievable.” I rolled my eyes and dipped my tea bag in and out of my water.
“What’s unbelievable?”
“How you can be so rude about something so insignificant.”
“Rude? Me? You’re the one who asked me about my water.”
Touché. He was right. While the content of my question was innocuous, my tone had been a little snide. “Okay. I’ll admit I might’ve used a slightly rude tone when I asked. But I truly am interested. You’re here nearly every night, you pour yourself a glass of water, and then you sit and stare at it. What is that about?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
I looked straight into his burning dark eyes. “Try me.”
He picked up the glass, walked to the sink, and poured it out. He came back to the table and pounded it with a loud bang. “There. I took care of it.”
“And that is supposed to be significant?”
“Trust me. It is.”
