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Studying my face, he ran his finger along my jaw, making my breath hitch. “I can sleep on the couch for now.”
Cleo would have loved this. But I found myself not wanting him to sleep on the couch. We were adults. And married. It shouldn’t be a problem to sleep in the same bed.
“That’s okay.” I cleared my throat, my voice still not back to normal. “I don’t mind if you stay in here until we get another bed.”
He dropped his finger from my chin, and a sigh slipped out at the loss of his touch. “Let me know if you change your mind. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. For now, I should get some work done.”
We walked back downstairs, Gabriel turning for his office and me for the kitchen.
When I looked over my shoulder, we locked eyes since he’d done the same. I thought I saw longing in his gaze before he snuffed it out with a grin. Shooting him a smile in return, I hastened my steps, needing to put distance between us.
Cleo was in the middle of making bread when I came back to the kitchen. She looked up from the counter, never missing a beat. “All good?”
Nodding, I poured myself a big glass of water, drinking it in one go. “Splendid.”
Shaking her head, she continued kneading. “Don’t forget that I have to leave in an hour to watch my nieces.”
Cleo’s sister had adorable twin girls. They were six and, from what she had told me, a handful. She watched them as much as she could. And since tonight was her sister’s ten-year wedding anniversary, Cleo had offered to take them for the night.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“I put lasagna in the oven. All you have to do is take it out in thirty minutes.”
When it came to cooking and baking, I forgot the things she told me as soon as she finished speaking. It was clear from the first burnt cupcake that baking would never be one of my strengths.
Which was a cruel twist of fate, since I’d always excelled at anything I’d set my mind to. Fencing. Horseback riding. Math. Arts. Dancing. And now that I could learn something that would actually be useful, I failed at it. Except for the easiest dishes, I seemed to be unable to cook. But since it was entirely possible to live off pasta and sandwiches, I was certain I’d at least survive on my own.
The thought sliced through me like a knife. Because it wasn’t an “if” I’d ever be living alone. It was a “when.” Eventually I’d be on my own. I just hoped I’d escape with my life.
“Have you decided on a program yet?”
Cleo’s question snapped my attention to the college brochures covering part of the bench. I’d found a college that offered online degrees, but there was too much choice. I didn’t even know what I liked, let alone wanted to study.
“I was thinking of taking a few classes and then deciding.”
She finished putting away the dishes that had been in the drying rack and turned back to face me. “That’s a great idea. And you don’t have a timeframe on how fast you have to finish, anyway.”
“How are your night classes going?”
Cleo was studying to become an architect. But she’d already been at it for four years, and if she continued only taking a few classes each semester, it would take her at least that long to finish.
“They’re okay. I’m thinking of dropping them, though.”
“What? No way. You’ve come so far already.”
She leaned back against the bench, holding on to it with a hand on either side of her hips. “I’m spending a lot of money on a degree that doesn’t have great job prospects when you’re studying at a community college. I knew that before I signed up, but I had my head stuck so far in the clouds I thought it wouldn’t matter. But it turns out it does since I haven’t even been able to get an internship.”
Cleo was one of the nicest people I knew. And she’d become more than an employee in the short time we’d known each other. If only I knew how to help her. Maybe we could shorten her hours at the same pay. She didn’t have to stay all day, only to feed me and clean the house.
She must have recognized the look on my face, because she held up her hand, palm facing me. “Nope. You’re not going to do anything. Don’t take on my problems. You have enough on your plate already. I’ll be fine. I made it this far without help.”
Cleo’s mom died when she was eleven, leaving her sister, who had barely turned eighteen at the time, to take care of her.
“I’ll back off, but only if you promise to come to me if you need help.”
“I will. Now I better head off or I’ll be late.”
“Have fun with Lily and Lila.”
