AllFreeNovel
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“I’ll see what I can do. For now, peek in the closet in the back bedroom. Joe’s daughter probably keeps some clothes here. You’re a little thing. Something might fit.”
“Sure.”
“Take a shower if you’d like. I’ll make a grocery list.” He pauses and pulls at the back of his neck. “Um…you cook?”
“Love to when I get the chance. You don’t?”
“I suck at it.”
Honestly, I can’t imagine this man being lousy at anything. He just seems so all-around capable. But his grousing makes me smile. “You won’t starve with me. And if you’re nice, I’ll even show you a thing or two.”
“I’d like that. I could repay the favor by showing you a thing or two.”
Does he mean that as suggestively as it sounds?
“What kind of things?”
“Self-defense. Marksmanship.” He shrugs. “Whatever you need.”
Great sex?
At the thought, my cheeks turn hot. “I’d like that. Thanks. Um…I’m going to get clean now.”
“I’ll order groceries. Anything you’re allergic to? Anything you really hate?”
“Beets and pickles. I’ll eat about anything else.”
“You don’t have a special celebrity diet? You’re not a raw vegan? Or a fruitarian?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m a singer, not a model. Besides, I grew up in Texas, so I love a good barbequed side of cow. Do you actually know a fruitarian?”
“I dated one for about ten minutes.”
I hate the instant pinprick of jealousy. Of course Rand has had a love life. I’ve had one, too. But hearing about his bothers me more than it should. “Why did you break up?”
He gives me a wry grin. “Because she didn’t like barbequed cow.”
I tsk at him, then head to the back of the house. My search through the kids’ closet doesn’t net much. I grab a few stretchy things I hope will fit, then hustle back to the master bath, passing Rand along the way, who’s taking stock of the refrigerator.
Once I’m alone, I go through the motions: grab a towel, wriggle out of everything I’m wearing, rip off the false lashes, wait for the hot spray, lather, rinse, and repeat. But every time I close my eyes, I hear gunshots and screaming, I see people scattering—and I can’t escape the horror that someone was aiming for me.
When I was with Rand a few short minutes ago in the kitchen, I felt fine. Safe. We were even joking. Now that I’m alone, the terror of the day catches up with me. I blow out a breath and try to calm myself, but there’s no denying the ball of anxiety tightening my belly.
Keeping myself busy helps, so I scrub my body until I’m almost raw. Then I squeeze out a bit of honey-scented shampoo and suds up. I’m grateful I spied a halfway decent facial cleanser in the medicine cabinet, along with a basic conditioner in the shower caddy.
I’m still fighting tears during my final rinse, but I have to stop. I’ve got to be strong. And I need to figure out who wants me dead. Crying does none of that.
Finally, I climb out of the shower, wrap my hair in a towel, and reach for the clothes. They fit…but they’re like a second skin.
As soon as I’m dressed, I look in the mirror—and my eyes nearly bulge from my head. The white tank is two sizes too small. Its hem flirts with my navel and flashes a wide strip of my abdomen. Without a bra, the thin shirt is almost pointless. I might as well be naked because my nipples are completely visible.
Shit.
The shorts aren’t much better. They’re black and hip-hugging, but they’re so brief they settle into the groove at the top of my inner thigh and expose the bottom curve of my backside. Even standing in place, the tight spandex creeps between my cheeks and crawls up my vajayjay.
I can’t go out dressed like this…but I can’t go out naked, either.
And right now, those are my only two options.
