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Hearing my intercom buzz, I paused my fingers on my guitar strings. It took a few moments to locate my phone—it had slipped between the orangery’s sofa cushions. I plucked it out of the gap and brought up the CCTV footage on my screen. A familiar range rover was idling outside my gates, practically surrounded by the reporters who’d taken to camping outside my home.
I allowed Kaiser entrance with the press of my thumb to the screen. Another press of it closed the gates the moment his car passed through. That didn’t seem to stop the reporters from crowding them.
Predictably, the pictures that were taken of us at the hospital ten days ago had found their way online. The media hadpouncedon how ‘sweet’ we apparently looked together. And idiotic rumors began to circulate literally the next morning …
Some ‘sources’ apparently claimed that he’d left Camila for me.
Others maintained that I’d comforted him after his breakup and we’d then ‘fallen’ for each other in the process.
There were some who actually claimed that he’d moved to Redwater because I was pregnant with his child and that we’d secretly married in Vegas recently.
Unreal.
My friends had cracked up at the latter rumor, though not before tossing a bucketload of shit at me for not calling them at the hospital when Judy was admitted. They’d forgiven me easily enough, understanding that my head had been a mess that day.
I’d thought that Kaiser might put some distance between us after the rumors started. But when I’d spoken of them, he’d shrugged and said, “There’ll always be rumors. Ignore them. They’ll lose traction eventually.”
I was still waiting for that to happen.
Suspecting that he’d be parking in my driveway any moment now, I put aside my guitar and stood. I hadn’t put in much effort with my appearance today—I was dressed in only my sweats and hadn’t applied even an ounce of makeup. But I wasn’t feeling self-conscious about it. He’d caught me in this state several times, since he’d taken to turning up whenever he felt like it—invitations not required, apparently.
He didn’t ever text or call in advance to let me know that he was coming. Nope. He just boldly showed up, expecting entry. But as I liked having him around and he was such a delicious treat to look at, I hadn’t complained about it.
Judy, of course, wasthrilledthat he spent time here. She took every opportunity to get to know him. And I got the feeling that he’d grown to like her.
Not that he was super friendly with her or anything. He didn’t pay her more attention than he paid most people. Nor did he smile at or laugh with her.
But … he talked to her. Willingly. Respectfully. He checked that she was taking care of herself. He bought her freaking birdfeed so that they could together watch as her cats decimated any feathered visitors. He also occasionally joined her outside to walk and play with her dogs—though only on my grounds, due to the hovering reporters.
Padding through the house, I rolled my eyes as I recalled the time she’d asked him to fix a leaky tap for her—which he had. I was pretty sure that there hadn’t been anything wrong with the tap prior to him arriving at the house. I strongly suspected that she’d done something to the damn thing, but she’d admitted to nothing.
Although it would be fair to say that he actively sought out my company, I wasn’t quite as excited about it as Judy. Unlike her, I wasn’t sure if it trulymeantanything. Kaiser wasn’t a person who’d hesitate to tell you how he felt. If he had an interest in turning our arrangement into something more, I was certain that he’d have told me.
But he hadn’t.
And it wasn’t like he behaved any differently toward me. Aside for the time he’d comforted me at the hospital, he was never affectionate. He not only rarely touched me outside of sexual situations—not even to kiss me hello or goodbye—he rarely touched me unless we were at the Vault.
Also, he still didn’t call or text unless the subject matter was related to the club. We never had meals or drinks anywhere but at the lounge, aside for the day he’d eaten dinner here after Judy came home from the hospital. More, he never invited me over to his place or suggested that we go out in public together.
It was highly possible that he was simply visiting me regularly because he felt confident that I wouldn’t mistake it for him wanting more. Even my friends—hopeful though they were that I might be wrong—agreed that this was likely the case. He’d given me no reason to think anything else.
Reaching the front door, I opened it wide just as Kaiser came striding toward it looking as tempting and rugged as always. I smiled. “Hey.”
He didn’t smile back, of course. Nor did he greet me with anything other than a tip of his chin.Typical.
I stepped aside to let him pass. “You came empty handed again.”
He cast me an impatient look. “I told you, I don’t shop.”
And I didn’t need or want him to, but I liked to tease him wherever possible—not merely because it was amusing, but because he was too damn serious. “But you could ask whoever orders your food to add wine or chocolates or flowers to that order.”
“We aren’t dating,” he pointed out. “And I don’t do romance anyway. Neither do you. You just can’t refrain from needling me.”
I tilted my head, admitting, “It’s more like I don’t want to refrain.”
He sighed, shaking his head.
“Judy’s visiting her friend who lives down the street,” I began as I retraced my steps to return to the orangery, “so you only have me for company, I’m afraid.”
