Page 9 of Finding You
“Sure.” She kept walking around. “So you live here alone?”
I watched her as I grabbed a pair of glasses from the cabinet. She walked with such purpose, I half expected her to pull a white glove out of her pocket and start swiping all the surfaces. “Yes. Just me and Ginger.”
“Wow. Then I’m impressed.”
I poured the scotch and shrugged. I don’t know what was so impressive to her.
“This is not a bachelor pad. This is a real home. Did you hire an interior designer? It definitely screams manly, but it’s homey too. You have throw pillows! And framed photos.”
“It’s not that big of a deal. I spent a long time building this place and getting everything the way I wanted it. I did it all myself. But those frames… my mom bought those. But I did hang them.”
“It’s like a magazine spread in here. I don’t read magazines, so I don’t know which one. But one of the fancy home decor ones, definitely.” She shrugged and continued to stare at the photos.
I walked back toward her with our drinks.
I gestured to the couch. “Have a seat.”
She stopped her inspection long enough to sit on the deep leather couch and crossed her long legs. Her white-blonde hair glowed in the firelight. Ginger approached and sat in front of her, gently nudging her hand. Astrid responded by scratching Ginger’s ears and nuzzling her neck.
I couldn’t help feeling a bit betrayed. It had taken months to get Ginger to even tolerate me. And after years together, I was the only person she really liked. Seeing her open up to this complete stranger was jarring. But also cute. I wanted to be annoyed, but they were pretty adorable together.
I handed her a tumbler and sat down on the opposite side of the couch. She held up her glass.
“To neighbors who invite themselves over,” I said teasingly.
She glared at me, and I thought I felt my balls shrivel slightly. “To neighbors with extra meat.” I choked back a laugh, but she kept a straight face. We clinked and took a sip. Damn, this was good. We sat silently for a few minutes, watching the fire and enjoying our drinks. It felt nice. I couldn’t remember the last time I had sat quietly and contentedly with a woman. Most women I dated felt the need to chatter and fill every silence. Astrid was confident and seemed to value the quiet just as much as I did.
I studied her profile as she gazed into the fireplace. She had a cute upturned nose and long, dark eyelashes. Her hair hung like a shiny curtain to her collarbones, highlighting a long, graceful neck. She was wearing a sweatshirt, but one of those fancy, expensive sweatshirts that hung off one shoulder exposing a tantalizing triangle of flesh and what looked to be a pink bra strap.
I tried to keep myself from staring, focusing instead on Ginger, who got bored of all the human attention and walked back over to her dog bed. Thanks, Ginger.
As much as I loved the silence, I needed to know more about her. I wanted to know everything about her. That thought scared me so I started to babble. “So you are Connie Jensen’s niece?”
She nodded.
“What brings you to Havenport?”
She shifted away from me and suddenly looked uncomfortable. I instantly felt guilty for asking.
“It’s hard to explain.” She twisted her hair around her fingers, and I saw her poker face begin to crack. “I am taking a little break from work and didn’t want to stay in my apartment in the city, so Connie, my aunt, offered me this rental property for a while.” I got the sense that was not the whole story, but I was not one to push.
I took a sip of whiskey and chose my words carefully. “Welcome. It’s much nicer in the summer, but January is a quiet month here.”
“That’s what I’m looking for,” she said eagerly, “some peace and quiet.” She stared at the fire as if she wished she were a thousand miles away from here.
“I’ll drink to that.”
* * *
“Oh my God, this is so good.” She groaned, licking the barbecue sauce from her fingertips.
I smiled and tried to stay focused on my food and not the sex moans coming out of her mouth. I thought the moans were bad, but watching her lick her fingers had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat, grateful I had worn jeans and not sweatpants.
“I can’t believe you made this.”
“It’s not that hard,” I replied.
“Um, don’t sell yourself short, dude. This is incredible. This is easily the best thing I’ve put in my mouth in years.”
