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I gave him the grin I knew he expected. “Got nowhere to be.”
He frowned, knowing I was on to him, but then quickly changed the subject back to Becs. “She’s fucking beat, just so you know.”
Dammit. I’d been worried about her going back to work, which was one of the reasons I wanted to check on her. But it wasn’t the only one. “Figured she might be with starting work.”
He looked surprised. “She told you that?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “She asked me what I thought. I told her it was too fucking soon, but your sister doesn’t hear the word no.”
He chuckled. “No, she doesn’t.”
Lifting my hand, I slapped it against his shoulder. “Take your time. I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, brother.” He turned and walked quickly back to the counter, where he pulled keys from a purse that had to belong to Becs. “She’s having some trouble with her car. Tell her I took it for a ride to check it out.”
“You got it,” I said as he walked past me and left.
Glancing around, I noticed there weren’t any dishes in the sink, which meant she either didn’t cook herself anything or she stopped for takeout. Considering Becs wasn’t one to waste money, I knew she wasn’t picking up food when she could grab something at home, so I could only assume she hadn’t eaten.
I walked into the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator door but frowned when I didn’t see much. Grabbing a carton of eggs, some milk, and veggies, I closed the door. If the best I could do was an omelet, then at least it was better than nothing.
I had everything chopped and cooking in the skillet when I heard her voice. “What are you doing?”
I flipped the omelet before glancing her way. That feeling, the one I’d gotten so good at ignoring, slammed into my chest when I saw her standing just inside the kitchen, barefoot, with her hair still wet, and wearing pajama pants and a tank top. Over the years, I’d managed to keep those feelings contained and locked up tight so I wouldn’t constantly feel them, but lately, I’d lost my grip on them, and they were overwhelming me.
Our eyes met briefly before I broke the stare and looked back at the omelet. “Making you an omelet.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you haven’t eaten.”
I listened to her walk across the room and the sound of the stool scraping when she moved it. Pulling the skillet from the hot burner, I turned to see she’d sat down and was watching me.
I lifted the skillet slightly. “Plates?”
She pointed at the cabinet above the dishwasher. “There.”
Opening the cabinet, I grabbed a plate and tilted the skillet so the omelet could slide on to it and placed it in front of Becs. I put the skillet back on the stove and opened a few drawers until I found a fork, which I grabbed and laid beside the plate.
“Eat.”
She watched me silently for a moment before she spoke. “How do you know I haven’t eaten already?”
I shrugged. “Figured you were probably too busy at work to stop.”
My answer must’ve satisfied her because she picked up her fork and began eating, but not before she whispered, “Thank you.”
Satisfied she was eating, I grabbed a beer from Bear’s refrigerator and smirked when I saw wine coolers. Becs hated beer, and if I had to guess, I’d say Bear was the one who stocked the refrigerator with something just for her. I grabbed her a wine cooler, twisted off the cap, and set it in front of her.
Her eyes landed on it and then slid to meet mine. “Did you bring that?”
I shook my head, pissed I hadn’t thought to do just that. “Bear must’ve.”
“He asked, but I said I didn’t want anything. Guess he didn’t listen.”
“Hard to imagine that.” I grinned when her lips tipped up in a small smile. Why did that one small smile make my chest ache?
When she didn’t say more, I leaned my back against the counter. Something was bothering her. I noticed it the last time I stopped. Although I only stayed a few minutes that day, it was still obvious. “How is he?”
