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“It all looks amazing. I usually drink my coffee first though.”
He smiled slightly and nodded, dimples peeking out at her, and suddenly she wished she could see them on full display.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” Rose tried as the silence dragged on. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, she just felt like maybe she should be putting in more effort seeing as Blake was being such a suspiciously good host.
“What agenda?”
“Well, we still have a gala to run, right?”
Blake looked at her, blue eyes wide. “Wow, you really don’t ever stop, do you?”
“What?” A frown started at her mouth and made its way across her face as he shook his head at her.
“You were literally chased out of your home less than forty-eight hours ago. Shouldn’t you, I don’t know, take some time to process?”
“I have things to do.”
“There’s more to life than working.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do while I’m stuck here with you?” The words came out sharper than she really meant them to, and Blake laughed without humor.
“Oh, I don’t know. You seemed to find a way to entertain yourself last night.”
“I didn’t see you complaining!” She stood up, her chair screeching uncomfortably across the floor, and Blake calmly resumed eating his breakfast.
“Why don’t you try relaxing? I do seem to remember you promising to call my name the next time you touched yourself. No time like the present. Or how about a bath?”
She stared at him incredulously. “I don’t want a fucking bath, Blake.”
He sniffed delicately. “You might want to reconsider.”
Her eyes flew wide as she glared at him with her chest heaving before snapping up some of the bacon on his plate and launching it at his forehead. Bailey scrambled up excitedly, jumping onto the table and licking all over Blake’s face as he attempted to retrieve the scrap of food. The sight of the pup’s butt wriggling in the air as it dove down over Blake, trampling his plate of food under his paws was so comical that Rose couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing and both the dog and Blake stopped what they were doing to stare at her as she wheezed breathlessly.
They were still staring as she spun around to leave the room and Blake called after her.
“Where are you going?”
“To run a bath.” She glanced back and snickered as he wiped puppy spit off his face with one sleeve.
“You haven’t had any breakfast yet.”
“What are you, my mother?” she sniped, but scooped a piece of toast up as she left, waving it in the air for him to see. “Happy now?”
“Not particularly.”
“Ass.”
“Brat.”
Claws tapped the floor as Bailey followed her back up the stairs and towards the guest room. Despite her annoyance, she couldn’t help but admire the interiors in Blake’s house and knew that Maia would be drooling over it if she were here. Everything was painted in fresh white, with dark wood accents and random pops of color in the form of art on the walls or the curtains hanging over the bay windows set in the hall. It was relaxing, and Rose had to wonder whether Blake was right – whenwasthe last time she’d had a break?
It was no secret that Rose loved her work but, more than that, she needed a busy mind, though it was clear to her now that she’d been neglecting her body. Yoga and work trips weren’t enough to feed a libido and now she was reaping the consequences, being driven temporarily insane by lust. That was the only explanation for the way she’d sought out Blake last night. Well, that and the fact she needed not to be alone and he was literally the only person available as they were on a police-mandated lockdown.
So maybe the gala prep could wait a day. It wasn’t healthy for her to go through… trauma, like she had last night, and simply bounce back like it’d never happened. Because it had, and it was clearly triggering her more than she cared to admit if she was voluntarily seeking out Blake for refuge.
Rose sighed as she walked into the guest room and plucked her phone off of the bedside where it had been charging, huffing slightly as Bailey ran in after her and made himself comfortable in the cloud of covers on her bed. She shot off a quick text to Maia, wanting to make sure she was alright, before hesitantly pressing the button to call someone she’d hoped not to have to call ever again. It had been unrealistic. Anxiety didn’t ever just go away. But she’d been doing so well with her lists and her routines, she’d thought it was under control. Now she wondered if that had ever been good or healthy for her at all, whether she’d been naive to think so in the first place. Routines were good until they couldn’t be maintained and then you either had to learn to bend or you broke.
“Good morning, this is Doctor Makers’ office. How can I help?”
