The Next Day (Foothills Book 2) by Carrie Thorne (mind reading books .txt) 📗

His voice rumbled through her like a full body massage, “Get a good start?”

She nodded, her hair brushing against the cotton of his shirt. “I officially have an online presence. Not that there’s anything to see yet, besides an under-construction memo. The content will have to wait for another day.”

“Come back as often as you need. Otherwise that thing’s a giant dust collector.”

“Thanks.” She ought to move. “Smells good in here.” And not just the garlic. Breathing him in, like his voice, his scent affected her, a breeze through the forest on a midsummer day.

“Want some?”

“Yes please,” she smiled against him.

Still holding her against him, he added chopped butternut squash and walnuts to the pan. On the counter, a wooden bowl was filled with mixed salad greens, two plates already waiting next to it.

Detaching herself, she opened the cabinet next to him and pulled out a pair of glasses, filling both with water. At the square wooden dining table, rustic-meets-industrial like the computer desk, she pulled two circular placements from the center, cloth napkins from the basket and set the table. A few moments later, he scooped the savory mixture over the salad. Like a seasoned chef, he sprinkled goat cheese over the top and drizzled olive oil and balsamic, then a few grinds of cracked pepper.

With a fork and spoon, he tossed the mixture, then loaded up both of their plates. Her stomach growled as he carried the plates to the table.

“You always eat like this?” she asked.

“Like what?”

“This is really good,” she said as she scooped in her second bite.

“You watched. It took a grand total of ten minutes. I’m lazy. This is one of my go-tos, or some variation of it, whatever I've got on hand.” He tilted his head with an easy smile as he took another bite. “If you had been home all day, what would you be eating right now?”

“Similar, actually. I assumed you were another steak and potatoes guy like Asher.” She took a sip of her water, then gestured with her fork, “I’ve never understood the appeal. Standing in front of a blazing hot open flame on a hot day so I can eat a hot meal? No thank you.”

“And there are very few forms of potato worth eating.”

“Be careful, or I may come over to mooch dinner more often.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “As long as it’s not considered cohabitating.”

She grimaced. “Oh yeah. I forgot about that.” Looking down at her ring, she bit her lips together and pulled the pretty thing off, holding out for him to take. Without it, her finger looked drab now.

His expression fell, probably from the reminder that they had been so stupid. After a pause, he took it and stuffed it in his pocket. He went to pull off his ring, but she stopped him. “No, keep it. See what you can get for it. I owe you a lot more than that for footing the rest of the bill.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Really, I think it was my idea.”

“Oh, I can easily imagine my drunken-self thinking what a brilliant plan it was.”

13

Outside the Little Sailor’s Room

Flicking the water out of his hair, Zane cringed as he realized how scruffy he’d gotten. He reached out of the shower and grabbed his towel, drying loosely and lumbering into his bedroom. Still on the charger, his phone flashed blue.

Tapping the screen, he saw he’d missed a call from his father, a voicemail waiting. Nope. Probably asking when they can come visit. Not ready for that.

Grumbling to himself, he finished drying and pulled on cargo shorts and a t-shirt, stuffing the phone into his pocket. In the kitchen, he glared at his coffeepot, wanting one of Freya’s fancy instant espressos. Probably shouldn’t.

They’d agreed they were friends. Friends bummed coffee off each other. Didn’t mean they were cohabitating.

Over the dining table, one of Freya’s paintings really dressed the place up. Felt like he was overlooking a flourishing vineyard in the Loire valley. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he recalled Freya stopping by last night, right as he’d been getting ready for bed.

She’d stuttered over her words, suddenly shy. A thank you gift, she’d said.

For what? He’d asked.

Well, lots of things. Let’s just say it’s for letting me use your computer, as I’m going be using it a lot over the next few weeks until I get my own. And for dinner. And as payment for our wedding. Passing it across, she’d left as quickly as she’d come.

Pulling on his shoes, he strolled down the stairs and crossed over to Freya’s place. Sophie’s car was gone, reminding him it was still the work week. Damn, he didn’t even know what day it was anymore. Not that he was complaining, but it was weird.

An alpine breeze had circled around the mountains, bringing cool air to the valley. The lawn was getting long. It was sort of his too, so he’d make a point to mow it this afternoon.

Not that he’d ever mowed a lawn. Freya mowed last, but it had taken all day with the massive park-like front and back lawns, and she had so much else on her plate right now. If it were his place, he’d wipe out most of the lawn with hardscaping and low maintenance gardens, maybe a water feature with natural boulders, intricately branched evergreens, and colorful trailing florals…

Shit. He shook his head. He’d taken a few landscaping classes, as the building can be stunning, but without a coordinating surround, it didn’t matter how good your design. May as well use what he knew; he’d draw up some schematics for Asher and Sophie and see what they thought. Hell, he