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Rory grabbed a few crumpled panties from the floor and tossed them into her open suitcase. “Grant, I work at Sugar Joy and I work here. I don’t need plants and books andstuff.”
“But you criticize the fireplace booth and tell me my singing fish is ugly?”A thunderous look descended on his face.
Uh oh.
Rory scratched her head. “You have customers at the Mousehole. It’s a public place. I just live and work here alone.”
“You don’t even have sheets on your mattress.”
“One less thing to wash.”
“That’s incredibly gross.” His gaze slipped from the mattress to her.
“You’re not the one sleeping here, so what’s it to you?”
Belatedly, she realized she’d just brought up the image of Grant in her bed. Heat rose to her face. She bent to throw the other strewn articles of clothing into the suitcase. A waft of air suddenly made her remember she was wearing her usual sleepwear of an overlarge T-shirt with nothing underneath.
Jerking upright, she pulled her shirt farther down her thighs. “Look, I can do this alone.”
“I know you can, but you don’t have to.” He picked up a box. “It’ll be faster if we do it together, and my truck is already downstairs.”
Internally, Rory conceded that the faster she was out of here, the better.
Grant peered at the computer. “Do we have to take this apart?”
God in heaven.
“Don’t touch that,” she said firmly. “You can deal with my otherstuff.”
She pulled the empty original boxes from her closet and set to work dismantling her computer, monitor, speakers, and laptop. In less than fifteen minutes, Grant had taken a box of her meager food items, her suitcase, and her mattress downstairs.
He stood in the open doorway, hands on his hips. The stupid sun spilled into the room again, burnishing his hair with a golden sheen. Rory’s stomach flipped. She didn’t often see him outside the Mousehole.
He was wearing cargo shorts and a T-shirt the blue shade of a robin’s egg. The color was magnificent against his tanned skin and darker, hair-roughened forearms. She wondered if he knew it.
Since when did she notice things like that anyway?
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming so early?” She closed the box containing her monitor. “Don’t touch that.”
He backed away from the power cord. “Nine is not early.”
“It is when you were up until four working. Don’t touch that.” She wrapped up and boxed the cords and her laptop, setting them beside the door. “Don’t take any of this down without me. I need to get dressed.”
“Does your mother know you live like this?”
“Does your mother know you’re incredibly judgmental?”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He folded his arms, his mouth twisting.
“So will I.” With a huff, she grabbed jeans and a T-shirt from the floor and strode into the bathroom.
As she pulled her clothes on, she realized that she didn’t have many…okay,anydressy-type stuff at all.
“When do we have to leave for San Francisco?” Fastening her hair into a ponytail, she left the bathroom and picked up her monitor box.
“Tomorrow at noon.”
“I have to stop at Callie’s. I don’t have anything appropriate to wear to a wedding.”
