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I didn't wait for him as I padded up the stairs. There were actually five bedrooms in the house. Six if we counted Dad's. I didn't. It would always be his, and it was downstairs and locked. He never slept on the second floor. My office—his old one—was also on the first floor. At the top of the stairs, I motioned to the two separate hallways.
"This room here is the closest to the front door." It was just a few feet from the top of the stairs.
Merrick glanced at the closed door, then at me. "And your room?"
The corners my lips curved upward. "Is at the other end. Each room has its own bathroom, so you won't have to worry about sharing. I'm going to change. Make yourself at home." I walked right past the door. Let him open it on his own. Curiosity threaded through my veins. I wanted to know what he would do.
So far, Merrick had proven unpredictable and entertaining. Two adjectives I didn't apply to much. Once I was in my own room, I didn't bother with closing the door. It had a little L shaped hall that turned to the main room itself.
Another test for Merrick.
As I went through my ritual of changing, I inspected my clothes for any evidence lingering from the alley.
Blood on the hem. It was almost too dark to notice, but stains were stains.
Pity. I'd liked this dress.
It would go into the furnace with his clothes. Panties and the strapless bra were fine, no evidence to dispose of, so they went into my normal laundry. After grabbing a change of clothes, I slid into my bathroom to strip off the makeup and brush out my hair.
The mask and the styling gel, it was all a part of the role I'd had to play. When I finished, my hair was up in a ponytail, the t-shirt I'd picked was more crop top and left my abdomen on display, along with the hint of a single scar that had long since faded into a white line. I refused to let it keep me from wearing bikinis, but I also didn't advertise it.
The sweatpants were comfy and when I emerged from my room, Merrick stood at the end of the hall near the top of the stairs. He was still wearing the clothes he'd changed into in the alley, though his hair looked slicked back and his face clean.
I deliberately made a noise so he would hear my approach and he turned to give me an even wider smile. "You look great," he murmured, with an almost insulting amount of awe in his voice. Either he caught it or my raised eyebrows warned him of the possible verbal misstep. "Not that you didn't look fabulous before, but this looks just more—you."
Daddy, he followed me home. I may have to keep him.
"Nice save," I told him, then bopped his nose with a single finger before heading down the stairs. "I'll give you a full tour tomorrow. I expect you're tired, but if you write down your sizes, I'll make sure to get you resupplied."
If all he had left was that duffel bag, then he was going to need more.
And I was already planning everything he'd need, right down to the IDs. If he passed every test like he had these few...
Dammit, I was keeping him.Sorry, Daddy.
“Sure, a tour tomorrow is great. And it is getting late. I’d much rather keep you company in the kitchen anyway.” He opened an arm, inviting me to lead the way downstairs.
Such a gentleman, I almost smiled as I passed him.
“So, what do you do for work?” His voice echoed around the narrow staircase, and if I hadn’t been used to tamping down my responses, I might have stiffened. It was definitely a novelty, having someone asking such personal questions in my own space. Enough so that it set every instinct in my body off kilter.
“I do some odd jobs here and there. Enough to get by. I’m going to make some eggs and toast. You sure you don’t want anything?” I entered the kitchen and quietly started pulling the few ingredients from the fridge.
He leaned a hip against the counter, crossing his arms and seemingly content to just watch me beat the eggs.
“That’s great, so you won’t have to leave early in the morning or anything. I can help, you know. I’m a jack of all trades, master of none, kind of guy. No matter what kind of work you have lined up, I can help out.”
I paused my movements. That’s why he asked about my work, not to pry into my business but to make sure I wouldn’t leave him. He did say he formed attachments much too easy. I should really be concerned I wouldn’t be able to get rid of him if I needed to, but there seemed little doubt this man would find himself in trouble without me.
When I glanced up at him, I paused for an entirely different reason. Under the bright lights of the kitchen, with him barely a few feet away, I got a look of just how gorgeous Merrick really was. With sooty lashes framing ice blue eyes, and a few days stubble across his jaw, he was every inch the bad boy.
Which was hilarious, because he had more decency in his thumb than most of the human population...Even if he was a little strange.
Forcing my attention back to my severely whipped eggs, I set them down to put butter in the skillet. The buttery aroma quickly filled the air, while I came up with a response. It was quick, and it wasn’t smoothly evasive.
Note to self, make sure Merrick stays at least five feet away at all times, preferably in the shadows. I had never had an issue reacting to men, and I didn’t want to start now. The solution to that was knowing my boundaries, and Merrick just might be a hard line in the sand.
Damn it.
