Page 3 of His Toughest Case

Curt

I stare pensively outside my study window at the vast expanse of land that stretches out before me. My thoughts are scattered, much like the unruly winds that sweep across the open fields.

“I'm sorry to spring this on you,” Amelia says quietly behind me, her tone contrite.

I turn around to study her face, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at her. “I should have known you had an agenda when you volunteered to help me find a maid.”

“I honestly just wanted to help,” she replies, then shrugs. “Look, you need a help, London needs a job. It's a win-win situation.”

“No, it's not. I didn’t ask you to find me a roommate. You know how much I hate people in my space.”

An unreadable expression crosses her face, but it’s gone before I can make sense of it. "Aren't you tired?"

“Of what?”

“Being alone in yourspace,”she replies, meeting my gaze with a steely determination. “It's been so long.”

At this moment, I wish I had a glass of strong brandy to wash away the anxiety clogging up my chest, the baseless fear that'sbeen rearing its head in the past few months. I never used to mind being alone, but these days, the possibility of never filling up this hollowness in my chest has been seeming like a threat, one that sometimes scares the hell out of me.

“Things are fine just as they are,” I say, keeping my voice leveled despite the tightness in my chest. “There's no need to stir things up.”

Amelia sighs, her expression defeated. “Okay, then do it as a favor to me. Please?”

“Why do you seem so intent on this?” I ask, still searching her face. “Why is your best friend in my house as a live-in maid?”

There's got to be a reason that neither of them is willing to reveal, one I'm not sure I'm willing to accommodate. I wonder briefly if it'd be better to let it go and turn a blind eye just this once. Knowing Amelia, she wouldn't do anything without a good cause.

Besides, I'll do anything for her anyway.

“All I can say is that London desperately needs this job,” Amelia says, her eyes pleading for me not to press on. “Can you let her stay, please?”

“I don't know….” I mumble hesitantly, shaking my head.

“Please, big bro,” she says, widening her eyes like a begging puppy. “You know London; she grows on you.”

“I don't know London,” I respond, rolling my eyes at her. “At least, not enough to vouch for her character,” I add when she rolls her eyes back at me.

Amelia laughs and shakes her head. "I know we were just little girls when you moved out, but how could you not recognize London? She's my best friend; we've always been joined at the hip."

I shrug, looking away from Amelia's probing gaze to stare outside the window once again in a bid to gather my thoughts.

“She's changed so much,” I mumble, almost to myself.

She's no longer the freckle-faced seven-year-old girl who used to smile shyly at me whenever she came to visit. No, she's bloomed into a gorgeous woman with sinful curves that'd instantly stirred my blood the moment I laid eyes on her. I'd been hit by an instant wave of attraction, one that seemed to only grow unbelievably deeper in those few minutes that I spoke with her. Perhaps it's the childlike innocence about her… and that subtle sensuality that she seems totally oblivious to.

Now that I've found out that she's my little sister's best friend – one whom I'm eighteen years older than, at that – I realize how futile it is to dwell on whatever I might have felt earlier.

There's no way I'd act on it anyway.

“Four weeks,” I say, turning around to pin Amelia with a leveled gaze. “That's how long I'm letting this go on for.”

“But, Curt…”

“Whatever this is,” I interrupt quietly, “figure it out within a month.”

My decision is final. Amelia must have realized that, because she nods solemnly with a defeated sigh.

“Thank you,” she mutters quietly, her lips curling in a slight, albeit genuine, smile. “I mean it.”

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