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She nodded. “Now go.”
“I will. Are you working today?” He walked backward toward the entry hallway, waiting on her answer even as his mind was racing in another direction.
“Yes, the night shift.”
“I’ll see you there later when I pick you up.” Not giving her time to argue, he turned away, grabbing his briefcase as he rushed out the door.
Chapter 13
Celiafloppedbackontothe couch, her knees giving twinges of pain to remind her of her stupidity. Running like a crazy woman wasn’t the only thing she hadn’t thought through. She really should have averted her eyes from Trenton when he was only wearing a towel. The man had no right to be mouthwateringly gorgeous on top of being obsessively kind.
Her fingers rubbed along the edge of the couch as she thought about him bandaging her knees. She couldn’t remember anyone having done that. It wasn’t that she never got hurt. Like during the run, she made mistakes, often going too far, and could even be clumsy. Especially as a child. Though not all of her injuries back then had been from her clumsiness.
Celia pressed her lips together, pushing herself to a sitting position to get away from the thought. Who in the world would have been able to tend to a scraped knee back then? Her mother needed everyone to focus on her, and Celia’s father had been unable to see anyone other than his wife.
She pictured Trenton crouching in front of her, blowing on her injury to ease the sting. He’d meant nothing by it, had even brought up his sisters. Her heart felt full all the same.
He’d also walked out of the bathroom naked except for some terry cloth and hadn’t given her a thought. Random missed beads of water had spotted his long torso, leading down the perfect pelvic arch and into that towel. His legs below were muscled runner’s legs.
It had been those dents just above the towel, on either side of his navel, that had caused her face to burn. Celia had wanted to run her hands down the creases and loosen the towel below. She was an idiot, getting all worked up. Trenton wasn’t interested. And it wouldn’t work out, anyway.
As much as she hated to admit it, Daniel was right. She was terrible at sex. Always had been. Losing her virginity years back had been a nightmare, and it had never gotten better from there. The doubts and uncertainties rose to swamp her during the act, and her mind had never been able to either catch up or let go before the guys were finished. Indecisiveness led her to do nothing, or just lie there, as Daniel had said.
It was much better to keep Trenton as a friend, where he wanted to be. He was one of the nicest people she’d ever met, even if he could be a bit stubborn. Her hand drifted down to rub the edge of the bandage he’d pressed on just so, applying enough pressure to make it stay without giving her any extra pain.
The snippets of his phone call that she’d overheard had been very telling. He was like a counselor to his clients. She wondered what type of lawyer he was.
Celia pushed to her feet and shuffled to the bathroom. She didn’t want to get the bandages he’d put such effort into wet yet, so she sponged off the best she could without a full shower. They hadn’t run long, but it still got hot out there. She placed her clothes in the hamper on top of Trenton’s. The view made her pause, her clothes mixed with his. For the first time since leaving her aunt and uncle’s house, she was sharing a space with another person.
Fishing through her pockets, she found the key he’d given her.
The black slacks she pulled on were loose enough in the knee to work, and she added a shirt to them. The pants were her normal interview ones, though now that wasn’t necessary. Good thing, since none of the places she’d applied to had responded. She slid the key in her pocket again.
There was more time than she needed before her next shift. She returned to the living room and noticed a bookshelf in the corner. Pulling a book about healthy meals out, she couldn’t help but think about Trenton as she started flipping through the pages.
Her stomach growling interrupted the paragraph about the multitude of benefits of kale. She was hungry for once. Maybe reading about food had helped. She closed the book, tilting it to study it again, and then set it down. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was after eleven.
Trenton had said he’d left a salad for her. Celia padded to the kitchen. That was when she saw the plastic-covered bowl that held Trenton’s salad on the counter. In his rush to leave, he must have forgotten it. Her fingers fiddled with the sealed lid. He’d probably already realized and figured something else out for lunch by then. She was silly to even consider bringing it to him.
That gentle smile of his as he crouched by the couch bandaging her knees tugged at her. It’d be a way to repay him, bringing him lunch. She still had plenty of time until her shift started. If he had time, she could even bring her own salad and they could eat together.
She fiddled with the plastic, sighed, and took out her phone. Listening to it ring, a part of her hoped he wouldn’t pick up. The click in her ear dashed that hope.
Only it wasn’t Trenton’s voice that said, “Mr. Caldwell’s office.”
She regretted reaching out already. “Um, hi. I was looking for Trenton?”
“He’s still in court today. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Sorry, it’s not important. He left his lunch at home, and I was checking to see—”
“Oh, that’s not good. Mr. Caldwell hates the greasy food trucks down here. Hmmm, what should I do?” The man seemed to be more talking to himself than to her.
“I mean, I could bring it to him,” Celia said, wincing as she made the offer.
“Really? That would be great, thank you! It will be great to meet you, too, Mrs. Caldwell. I haven’t been his assistant very long, but had heard Mr. Caldwell was married.”
Celia’s heart sank. “Oh, no, I’m not—”
