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When I open the door, I take him in. All of him. Tall, built, dark hair, sparkling blue eyes, and he’s wearing a button-down with jeans that fit just right. He’s got two paper grocery bags, one in each arm. His shirt fits snug on his biceps. Holy hotness.
“This place hasn’t changed much.” Heath’s eyes travel around the room as the door closes behind him. He puts the bags down on the entry table and turns the lock. The sound is loud as it clicks into place.
“I didn’t know if I should do much to, you know, change it.” I admit. “I didn’t know her, and I thought maybe living in her space as-is might make me learn more about her?” I only found out she was alive when a lawyer showed up and said she was . . . well, dead. One day I was worried about being homeless and the next, I had a dead grandma, a house, and a cat. It was a blessing. Not the dead grandma part, but everything else. Kimber was moving across the world, and I was going to be left in a small apartment I couldn't afford. It doesn’t help that Kimber was my lifeline to getting things from outside of my safe zone. This whole change of circumstances has been a whirlwind and almost a little too good to be true. Even though I have stability now, I have more questions than anything else. Who was my grandma? All the neighbors I’ve talked to said they didn’t know her well, and it’s not as though I could ask my parents. Maybe the one neighbor I assumed didn’t know her at all actually knew her the best.
He smiles. “I don’t think Mildred would mind if you made it your own.”
“So you really knew her?” I turn to look at him. “Will you tell me about her?”
“She traveled a lot.” He shrugs.
“Like you?” I know he’s always in and out.
His eyebrows lower ominously. “Are you watching me, Lena?”
“No,” I say way too quickly, making him smile. Okay, I might have busted myself on that one. “I just don’t see you around much so I figured you must be traveling.” I stroll off toward the kitchen, trying to hide my face that I know is turning red at almost being caught.Get it together, Lena. You're a way better spy than this. He has no idea this is an interrogation, not a dinner date.
“Consulting work. It calls for a good bit of travel,” he says from behind me and brings the grocery bags with him.
“Consulting?” I ask. When I turn, I almost run right into him. I didn't know he’d followed after me so closely. He is creepy fast for a man of his size and quiet as a cat. Maybe that’s why Jinx likes him so much.
“I’m a fixer of sorts.” He puts the bags on the counter and moves even closer to me. He smells good, sort of like expensive mixed with clean.
“A fixer?” I scrunch my nose. “Like a handyman?”
“Problem solver?” he tries again.
Yeah, he’s totally a spy. Why didn't he come up with something cool like a pilot?
“Problem solver, huh? Can you fix my dishwasher?” I raise my chin.
“What’s wrong with it?” He steps toward it.
“Nothing.” My shoulders drop. It was a test. One I wasn’t prepared to give, apparently.
“I can see why you’re out of milk.” His eyes are on my sink where I’d left the milk container. There is still milk spattered from when I poured it out.
“I dropped it. I’m clumsy.” Now that is only a partial lie, so it comes out easier. I should try sticking with half-truths. That might make me a better liar. “Was my grandma?”
Heath throws back his head and laughs. The sound is rich and tickles my skin, reminding me of my nipple problem from before. I spent so much time trying to make the place presentable that I didn’t even change. Crossing my arms over my chest as nonchalantly as I can, I try to hide them. I should toss a tie-dye kitten shirt on over it, but I find I don’t want to leave, even if it’s only to go to my room to slip on a top.
“Mildred was far from clumsy. She was sharp as a tack,” he finally answers.
That little revelation makes me wonder about my parents. I know she was from my father's side. That’s really the only information I’d gotten on her. A father that was never involved in my life. It was always Mom and me until Kimber came along. When my friend and I had gotten a place together, Mom all but up and left. I’m pretty sure she felt as though I was Kimber’s problem from then on. She never did handle my issues well, but I’m better about them now. I don’t have meltdowns and lock myself in a closet like I did when I was a kid. I used to panic about having to go somewhere new. I learned to deal the best I could on my own and with Kimber. Sounds like my grandma was my opposite.
“Travels and sharp as a tack,” I repeat. “Guess I didn't get any of those genes,” I mumble as I turn toward my pantry. What did I say I was making? Butternut squash? I don’t even know what that is. I grab a can of peanuts from the pantry. Again, when I turn, I run right into Heath. I know the man is big but the kitchen isn't that small. He’s getting in my space on purpose.
“You don’t want to be like your grandmother, Lena.” His voice is soft. “I think you’re fine just the way you are.”
My heart flutters. That’s so sweet. I stare up into his dark gaze. His eyes lock with mine. Oh God. Is he going to kiss me? Wait—isn't that what people do when they invite them in for coffee? This isn’t coffee, though, it’s dinner. It’s not even that, we’re supposed to be making a nut pie. All of my thoughts are starting to get jumbled, and I can’t remember, especially now with his eyes on my mouth. He starts to lean forward, and I close my eyes, praying for the best because I’m not sure what to do. No one has ever tried to kiss me before.
My eyes fly open when I feel him move. He’s on his knees again, cleaning up the can of peanuts that slipped out of my hand. I dropped it on purpose to test out his spy moves, obviously ... Fine, I’m lying. I’m just nervous and clumsy.
“For the pie,” I rush to say, trying to pretend I didn't think we were about to kiss. “Let me get the butter?” I turn to the fridge and pull it open. I stand there, but I’m not looking for the butter, I’m trying to calm my nerves and regain my composure. This is why I don’t venture out into unknown waters. I stay away from groups and new people for these reasons. I get nervous. My attraction to him isn’t helping the situation either. I need to get myself together.
“Butter?” he asks from behind me. I swear I can hear the smile in his voice. Can you even hear a smile? I don’t know. I can’t think straight with him this close to me. When it comes to Heath, I’m always inventing new things, so we’ll add that I can hear him smile to that.
“For the pie. Butternut squash.” I’m guessing there is butter in it. I mean it’s in the freaking name. The biggest problem that I’m facing is, where am I going to get a squash? Isn’t that one of those weird looking vegetables in the produce aisle? I should sneak to the bathroom and call Kimber. This is not part of the original plan to get a cup of milk. How the hell did I wind up with him in my house and making a pie out of some unknown nut? I turn to tell him that I’ll be right back, but again he’s right there. This time I really run into him. My chest meets his. I gasp because the cold from the refrigerator has not helped the nipple problem. My whole body flushes at his nearness. Desire slips down my spine and right between my thighs. A small ache forms that I’ve never felt before.
