Page 18 of A Home for Harmony
If it was anyone else, she’d do a booty shake like she did with her sister.
But Micah didn’t seem to be the type of person who would appreciate it.
“I don’t normally spend much time thinking of women,” he said.
Harmony frowned but followed him into the house. “Should I feel lucky that you’re thinking of me?”
He shrugged. “You can feel any way you want.”
That didn’t sound too encouraging. Before he was a man of few words. Now he was pretty grouchy.
It’s like something changed and she couldn’t figure it out.
Maybe she should leave.
“You have a child?”
He turned quickly and she’d moved past him in the kitchen to the living room on the other side and stopped to get a closer look at the teen’s pictures on the fireplace. Good lord, how old was he?
“That’s my daughter,” he said.
“Are you married?” she asked. “I should have asked that long before I said yes to coming here. Or at least if you’re in any kind of relationship.”
“No to both,” he said. “I’m divorced.”
“Got it. And your daughter lives with her mother?”
“You’ve got a lot of questions.”
“I think they are reasonable.”
“Says the person who might throw darts at the wall to pick out her clothes.”
She burst out laughing and pointed her finger at him. “See, funny.” At least a bit of personality was peeking out again. Maybe he had to warm up.
“Really?”
“I thought so,” she said. “And no, I don’t pick out my clothes that way. If I have no meetings, I put on whatever I want. If I have to film for a sponsor, I have to make sure I use or wear their products. Though I might go buy a dartboard and try to do things that way. It sounds like a good time.”
He angled his head. “We can eat in the living room or kitchen.”
“Kitchen works,” she said. “I rarely eat in the living room. My parents didn’t allow it when I was growing up. My mother would have a heart attack if we ate anywhere other than the kitchen or dining room.”
“Most people do those things out of spite when they move out.”
She grinned and pulled a chair out at the kitchen table, then put her jacket on the back of it. He’d hung his up on a peg, but she’d rushed to see the pictures on the fireplace.
His house was nice and fairly modern.
The kitchen looked to have been updated in the last decade or so.
There wasn’t a lot of decor that she noticed moving through, other than the Christmas tree, but that only seemed to fit his personality.
“I’ve never lived alone,” she said. “When I was in college I had roommates and we didn’t have a kitchen or anything until my last year. By then I didn’t want to eat in my room and risk getting food in my bed.”
“That’s gross,” he said. “I have to lecture Scarlet on that.”
“Is Scarlet your daughter?”
