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As she rattled it off to him, he punched in the numbers. Seconds later, the sound of her cell phone buzzed in the purse she’d placed in the chair beside her. “Thanks.”
“I wish I’d given it to you earlier.”
“Doesn’t matter. You came through for me when I needed you to.”
He took a deep breath. “If you’re ever in a position like that again, and can make it to the circuit breaker box, do it. It will turn off all the lights in the house. You know your way around your house better than any burglar. So, once the house is in darkness, just use your head. Drop then roll under the bed, behind a sofa or make it to the nearest exit door. Just make sure you make as little noise as you can, so you don’t give your location away.”
She nodded. “Thanks for the advice.”
He was about to say something else when his cell phone buzzed. He recognized the ring tone. Glancing over at Lennox, he said, “Excuse me a minute while I take this. It’s my niece.”
He then clicked on the phone. “Yes, Margo?”
“No matter what Striker said, I just needed to hear your voice, Uncle Roland. To make sure you’re okay. I needed to talk to you myself.”
A lump formed in Roland’s throat. He figured he would never get used to this, having someone care for him withthe intensity that Margo did. “I’m fine. No hits, no bruises, no wounds. I’ll live.”
“You’d better. How’s Lennox?”
“She’s fine.”
“Good. I don’t want to sound like a worry wart, but I can’t let anything happen to you or Uncle Frazier. The two of you are all I have left of Dad.”
Another lump formed in his throat, this one thicker than the last. It didn’t help matters when he heard the sound of her sniffling. “I’m fine, Margo. You just take care of yourself, Striker and my grand-nephew. Alright?”
“Okay. And I need to see you. Can you come to dinner tomorrow?”
He glanced over at Lennox. She was sitting there staring into space again, probably reliving tonight’s events. “I’m not sure.”
Margo was a wedding-dress designer, someone who could work from just about anywhere. But when she’d married Striker, he’d made it clear that working from their home wasn’t the best idea. Luckily, an empty building across the street from Summers Security Firm had become vacant, and Striker bought it for Margo as a wedding gift.
Roland knew his niece. He’d either go see her or she would find a way to come see him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Margo. Will you be at the shop?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“If I don’t make it to your place before noon, then I’ll drop by the shop.” He didn’t have to be there to know a huge smile had lit up her face. He couldn’t help but feel good about it.
“I’m going to hold you to that, Uncle Roland.”
He chuckled, knowing that she would. After they ended the call, he placed his phone on vibrate before slipping it into the pocket of his jeans. He glanced over to the table and saw Lennox watching him. The moment their gazes connected, he felt it--desire. Hell, it was hard to believe that even after everything that had gone down tonight, their sizzling chemistry was still almost tangible. Unfortunately, it was the last thing either of them needed now. Reluctantly, he broke eye contact with her and finished preparing the salad.
“The casserole smells good.”
He smiled, though he didn’t dare glance back at her. “It is good, if I say so myself. Italian foods are my specialty.”
“And my favorite.”
He looked up to tell her that it had been his wife’s favorite, too, but the moment their gazes connected, he was overwhelmed by the clamor of desire rushing through this body. Damn.
Breaking eye contact again, he moved to the oven to take out the casserole he’d had warming. Then, as he pulled out plates and utensils, he said, “I prefer to heat my food in the oven rather than the microwave. To me, the taste isn’t the same.”
“Oh.”
Roland smiled as he arranged the place settings on the table. When that was finished, he crossed the kitchen to slide the bread in the oven to warm. He knew she baked a lot and wondered if that extended to cooking, as well. So, he asked her.
“I do some cooking, but not a whole lot,” she responded smiling and he was glad to see it. “Because of my hecticwork schedule, I don’t have a lot of time. And it doesn’t make a lot of sense to cook too much for just one person.”
Roland nodded, placing the casserole and a huge bowl of salad on the table. “But you do make time to bake.”
