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A little life sparks in her dull eyes. “Do you think so?”
“I do. You need to talk to him. But it’s late and if he’s been ill, you won’t want to do that now. You should get some sleep. Where are you staying?”
She bites her lip and ducks her head, looking up at me in a way that makes me long to do whatever she asks. “Could I—I don’t want to check into a hotel. Even with the wig, people might recognize me. Social media from the filming is blowing up right now.”
“Do you want to stay here?” My heart jams in my throat, and I can barely get the words out. I swallow hard. “I have a guest room. And we could move your car into the garage, so no one notices it.”
“Do you mind? I hate to bother you—but you’re the only person I really know around here. Not that we know each other that well. But I know you won’t sell me out.” She lifts her chin and meets my eyes. “Only for a night. I know if I can talk to my dad, I can—I don’t know. If he doesn’t want me here, I’ll go home. But I need to hear it from him, not Justin.”
“It’s no problem. I have plenty of room.” I lunge across the kitchen to the key rack hanging by the garage door. “I’ll move my car out of the garage so we can put yours inside.”
“I don’t want to—”
“Trust me, if you don’t want anyone to know you’re here, we need to hide the car. No one will believe it’s mine. And in Rotheberg, everyone will be asking about it before lunch tomorrow. Especially if it’s out there overnight.”
“Won’t they think it’s odd your car is outside?” She follows me into the garage.
I wave at the woodworking tools filling the second bay. “I move it outside when I’m working on a big project. Subie Doo might be old, but he doesn’t deserve to be covered in sawdust.”
She smiles for the first time this evening. “You call your car Subie Doo?”
I hit the garage door opener, then move around to the driver’s side. “His predecessor was Subrina. But Subie’s obviously a guy.” I pat the roof of the car as I open the door. “Go ahead and back out of the driveway. I’ll park on the far side so you can get in.”
She nods and gives a thumbs-up, then hurries through the door before it’s completely open. The Porsche rumbles to life and rolls down the slight incline. I climb into Subie Doo and back out to park him in front of the closed second door. If anyone is really paying attention, they might note that I usually park on the right side when I’m not in the garage, but I doubt anyone cares that much about my car.
The yellow car eases up the apron and into the garage. I beep my locks shut and follow the Porsche in, stopping by the door to click the closer.
Nica pulls a large, pink carryon from the passenger seat. I take it from her hand and lead the way into the house and upstairs.
“Your room is here.” I flick on the lights and step into my guest room. A queen-sized bed with a log-cabin quilt in shades of green and brown dominates the room. A tall dresser stands beside the door to a small closet, and heavy drapes frame a window that looks out onto the backyard. I set down the case by the dresser and flip the quilt back. “I need to put sheets on this. The bathroom is across the hall.” I nod at the door. “Eva’s room is next door. Don’t go in there.”
“I wouldn’t—”
I hold up a hand. “I wasn’t suggesting you’d snoop. I’m just warning you it’s not safe. There could be a yeti hiding in there, and I wouldn’t know. The amount of junk that girl accumulates is terrifying. She doesn’t even live here nine months out of the year! And when she gets home next week, it will be even worse.” I try to stop babbling as I pull a stack of sheets from the bottom dresser drawer. “She tries to take over this room every summer, and I fight her off.”
“I’ll be gone before she gets home.” She moves to the far side of the bed to help me stretch the fitted sheet over the mattress.
“There’s no hurry. The room is yours for as long as you need it.” The homey activity feels so comfortable and normal. As if we’ve lived together for years. My face gets warm as the thought registers. I turn away to grab the top sheet, then fling it over the bed, hoping to distract her from my undoubtedly bright red face. We tuck in the sheet and straighten the blankets in silence.
Nica shakes a pillow into its case and tosses it to the head of the bed. “I’m going to use the little girls’ room.”
“There are clean towels in the linen closet.” I stack the four pillows and loiter in the hallway for a moment. It just feels creepy, though, so I pause by the bathroom door. “I’ll be downstairs.”
A muffled “thanks” comes through the door, and I head down. I fidget in the kitchen for a while, putting Nica’s dishes in the dishwasher and setting the timer on the coffee maker. I set a pair of plates on the counter, ready for breakfast, then put them away again. Maybe she doesn’t eat breakfast. Maybe she doesn’t like coffee. Do I have any tea? I dig through a lower cupboard and unearth a container marked English Breakfast.
“Thanks for letting me stay.”
I jolt to my feet in surprise, tea tin clenched in my hand.
Nica stands near the couch. She’s wearing a pair of pink shorts and a matching tank top. The red wig is gone, and light brown hair falls to her shoulders. I like this look better than the blonde last spring. Her face is clean, almost shining. She looks so pure and fresh.
And so attractive. My heart starts to race as I realize she’s in her pajamas. I suck in a deep breath. “You’re always welcome here.”
She smiles. “You’re a nice man, Matt Hertzsprung. I got really lucky when I found you.” With a blown kiss, she disappears into the hall. She barely makes any sound on the steps, then the bedroom door closes.
I drop the box of tea on the counter, staring after her. Matt, you are in so much trouble.
Chapter 13
