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“No questions, Sherlock.” Rory gave her sister a quick hug. “Now go away.”
She shooed Aria out the door and sprang into action. Since her own belongings were meager, she hauled all of her boxes into a utility closet near the back porch. In the bedroom, she yanked open drawers of Grant’s neatly folded clothes and stuffed them with her T-shirts, jeans, and underwear.
She could not, for the life of her, stop herself from noticing that he wore boxer briefs, mostly black with a few dark gray pairs, and that his shirts smelled like him when he wasn’t cooking—citrus and salt.
She ran her hand over his T-shirts, all of which were soft as clouds and felt as if they were shaped to his chest and shoulders. If she were the poetic type, she’d even have sworn that his body heat still clung to the material.
Not that she was fondling his clothes. She slammed the drawer and hung a few of her shirts in the closet. The front door opened.
Her heart almost stopped. Were the Taylors already finished with dinner?
“Rory?” Grant’s voice.
“In the bedroom, sweetie!” she called cheerfully. “Haven’t I told you to pair your socksbeforeyou put them in the laundry? And have you seen my hairbrush? The one with the pink handle.”
“My parents are still at the tavern.” He stopped in the doorway, his face set with a frown. “What’d you do with your stuff?”
“I put the boxes in the utility closet. No way will I have time to set up my computer.” She threw a pair of her jeans shorts and a shirt at the foot of the bed to make it look like casual disarray. “You’d better go back there and keep them at bay. Text me when…oh, crap, will you please get a cell phone? Give me another half hour. Go, go!”
Waving him away, she grabbed the boxes and Naked bag from the foyer and returned to the living room. Aria had nailed it—sheer flowy dresses, candles, “live your best life” type magazines, romance novels, tubes of lip balm, jewelry, beaded sandals, even lacy stockings and lingerie.
Rory scattered everything in various places around the house as if it were her personal clutter. She replaced a couple of Grant’s black-and-white photos with paintings of fairies and pinned a funny cat calendar to a wall in the kitchen.
She put the Naked shampoo and conditioner in the shower, uncapped the jars of moisturizer, and set the other toiletries on the counter beside Grant’s shaving cream and razor. She found a new toothbrush in the cabinet and plunked it next to his in the holder.
“Honey, we’re home.” Tension underscored his greeting.
Rory swiped her lips with sticky, strawberry-scented gloss, pinched her cheeks to make them red, plastered a smile on her face, and sailed into the living room.
“Welcome!” She spread her arms out. “How was dinner?”
“Wonderful, dear.” Joanna beamed. “Edward found his steak a bit tough, but the garlic whipped potatoes were exquisite.”
“Good martini, too.” Edward scanned the room.
“Great!” Rory wondered if she’d feel the need to speak with exclamation points for the rest of the week. “So, come on in and have a seat. Would you like to look at Oprah’s magazine, which I subscribe to along with this one…Home and Garden. Or perhaps you’d like to read this book…um,Love in the Jungle? It’s one of my favorites. Oh, here, let me light this lovely, vanilla-scented candle.”
Her palms were starting to sweat.
Behind his mother’s back, Grant made a slashing motion across his throat even though his lips twitched. “Or we can head downtown, and I’ll show you around Starfish Avenue.”
“It’s getting a bit late, and I want to see the town during the day.” Joanna wandered to the open bedroom door and peered inside. “Why, this is quite spacious, isn’t it? Not large enough for a family, of course, but rather perfect just for you two. Rory.”
She gestured for Rory to come closer. After tossing Grant a puzzled glance, Rory joined Joanna at the doorway.
Bracketing her mouth with her hand, Joanna whispered, “Not to meddle, but it’s a bit uncouth to leave your underclothes lying on the floor.”
Rory’s gaze shot to the crumpled blue panties prominently announcingJuicyright across the bum.Thank you, Aria.
“Must’ve fallen out of the laundry basket.” Her face heating, she grabbed the panties and shoved them in her pocket. “So, would you like something to eat or drink?”
“We just ate and drank, dear.” Joanna smiled, though her sharp assessment of the bedroom appeared to miss nothing. She strolled around the rest of the house, remarking on the “charming” fairy paintings, the state-of-the-art coffee-maker and bag of French Roast, which was Edward’s favorite, and the size of the “gorgeous” back porch with its Adirondack chairs.
As Joanna walked out to admire the view of the redwoods, Grant brushed his fingers against Rory’s arm and whispered, “Thank you.”
Her whole body tingled, whether from his gratitude or his touch she couldn’t say.
“It must be so lovely to have coffee on the porch every morning.” Joanna walked back into the kitchen with a wistful sigh.
