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Seriously? Had he turned his edict not to speak to her into some sort of solemn vow? The guy didn’t even know why she was here. He was just going to hide out in the back of his house and ignore her?
Perhaps the constant stream of nervousness had taken a toll on her. Suddenly, it morphed into anger. She folded her arms and muttered, “Do you know what this is called? The wordsunnecessarily pettycome to mind.”
“Really?” Carson’s voice sounded behind her. “The words that come to my mind are breaking and entering.”
5
Olivia spun. Carson stood in the doorway.
Of course, he was behind her, and of course, he’d just come upon her inexplicably in his living room sounding like an insane person. Earlier when her mind had been considering all the ways this meeting could go badly, it really should’ve warned her about this scenario.
Her mouth opened and shut in an explanation that didn’t come. She’d been expecting his height and yet he still seemed bigger than she remembered. More muscles from playing football, she supposed. His blond hair was mussed—the only flaw to an otherwise perfect face. He had clear blue eyes, a straight nose, and his jawline—square and jutting—was more proof that the guy was made of testosterone. The black boot on his left foot was a reminder that he was recuperating from an injury, and yet nothing about him hinted that it was slowing him down.
He looked her over, his head cocked in question. “Can I help you?”
She searched for words. “Um, I wanted to…” She waved a hand in the direction of the door. “I only came inside because… I knocked, but I didn’t think you heard me because of the music…and then I heard someone…and I thought…”
That he was being petty by refusing to speak to her. Only she couldn’t finish the sentence since he had just spoken to her. It turned out in this scenario he’d been the normal one, and she’d been the crazy one standing inside his house talking to…who had she been talking to?
Carson’s head was still cocked. “You heard someone?”
“Yes, a thump. Someone moving around in the hallway.” Why hadn’t the person said something when surely they must have heard her come inside? The answer flashed into her mind—making the situation even worse. Carson had a girlfriend who’d come for a surprise visit. She’d turned on mood music and was probably waiting in the back in something skimpy. The woman wasn’t about to come out and talk to Olivia, and so she’d remained silent in the hopes Olivia would go away.
Carson’s eyes narrowed, and he scanned the room. “No one should be inside.” He retrieved the shovel from the doorstep. “I’ll check out the place to be certain.”
As he trooped by, Olivia took hold of his arm. “Wait. You really shouldn’t do that. Perhaps I just heard the house settling.”
“If you did, I won’t find anything. If not, I’d rather know now.” He shrugged out of her grasp and strode across the room. He peered into the kitchen, his grip firm on the shovel, then headed toward the hallway.
Should she point out that home invaders probably didn’t turn on the radio? “If it really is a burglar and he has a gun, you shouldn’t go back there with only a shovel.” And if it was his girlfriend, he definitely shouldn’t. He’d scare the poor woman to death.
“Well, if you hear anything that sounds bad, call the police.” Carson cast her a glance over his shoulder. “You know how to do that.”
Yeah. After that, Olivia stopped trying to prevent him from going. Let him make a fool of himself by nearly clubbing his unsuspecting girlfriend. Olivia looked upward, wondering if she was about to hear a shriek. If that happened, what would the correct etiquette be? Rush in to help? Maybe shewouldcall the police. Carson had, after all, told her to call if she heard anything suspicious. He could be the one to call back and explain the situation.
No shriek sounded from the back of the house. The music stopped.
Carson returned without the shovel and carried the largest tabby cat Olivia had ever seen. “Hey, Olive, I think I know what you heard.” Olive. That was slightly better than Olive Oil but the second half of the name seemed to hang unsaid in the air anyway. “He likes to sleep on the top of the couch. You probably startled him when you came in and then heard him drop to the ground and run off.”
It was possible. The animal was as big as a schnauzer. “And the music?” Olivia asked.
Carson set the cat on the ground. “I turn on the music when I work to muffle the sound of construction at the main house. Saws and hammers freak him out.”
The cat eyed Olivia suspiciously, turned, and trotted back down the hallway to safety.
“Oh.” She should’ve felt less awkward now that she knew there wasn’t a girlfriend in the back but instead, she felt more uncomfortable. Olivia had just made Carson check out his own home while wielding a shovel. She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands so fiddled with her purse strap. “I never took you for the sort who liked Justin Bieber.”
“I don’t. The cat does.”
She nodded. She wanted to leave.
Carson folded his arms and considered her. “You never told me why you were in my house. Just out in the area doing a checkup for petty levels?”
Ouch. She forced a laugh. “Yes, and yours are clearly low.”
He grinned. “If you came looking for Matt, you’re out of luck. He didn’t show up today.”
And there it was. The subject she couldn’t avoid. “Actually, that’s what I came to talk to you about. Matt called me today. He wanted me to give you this.” She pulled the envelope out of her purse and handed it to him. On the drive up, she’d tried to formulate the best way to tell Carson what Matt had done. All of her eloquent explanations had fled.
