Page 50 of No More Bad Boys
“Yeah—that’s good. Okay, I’m going to set the table. See you in a minute.” He narrows his gaze on Whitney and pauses a long moment, as if he’s reluctant to leave the two of us alone.
What’s he so afraid of?His behavior actually makes mewantto pump Whitney for information on his background.
He turns to go, and Whitney points me to the bathroom attached to his bedroom.
“You can change in there. Hand your wet things out—just give it all to me. This shirt will be like a dress on you, so you’ll be decent. You don’t want to sit around in wet clothes all night.”
“Well, I won’t be here that long—I was really just going to stop in,” I explain through the opening in the nearly closed bathroom door. “I’m sorry that I barged in on your fun tonight.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m thrilled you’re here. Besides, I see that idiot all the time. In fact, I was going to take my food to go tonight, anyway. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”
I peel off my wet t-shirt, sport bra, and skort and pull on Blake’s t-shirt.
It’s way too big for me, but it’s dry, and it hangs almost to my knees, so it really is like a dress. When I step out of the bathroom, Whitney gives me an approving glance.
“Cute! I’ll go toss these in the dryer. See you in there.”
She nods toward the front of the house to indicate the dining room and disappears.
I take a minute to check myself in the mirror. I shouldn’t have worried about anything happening between Blake and me tonight—I look like one of those memes of a miserable cat forced to take a bath, all wet fur and baleful glare.
Pulling my hair out of its ponytail holder, I shake it out and finger-comb it to help dry it a little then concentrate on wiping the mascara smudges from beneath my eyes.
Since that’s the only makeup I wore for my date with Troy, there’s no other damage left to repair.
I step out into the hallway and overhear Whitney informing Blake of her dinner-to-go plans. As I enter the kitchen, he’s studying her face. She gives him a significant glance, maybe checking to see if he approves of her impromptu change of plans.
Apparently he does. He gives her a wide grin and a wink.
I’ve only seen them interact for a few minutes, but I can tell they’re close. They seem to share an unspoken language. And now that I’m not in the throes of panic and I’m looking closely, it’s obvious they’re siblings.
Whitney’s hair is darker than Blake’s and has more of a brownish tone, but she’s a redhead, too, and their eyes share the same amazing shade of green, light and striated with gold spokes.
Her skin’s much paler, though, milky white while his is ruddier. Either she stays indoors all the time or she lives in SPF 70. I find myself intensely curious about her.
“Where did you go to college Whitney?”
She turns around. “Oh—I just went to a small community college near where we grew up. My mom—”
She stops and seems to think better of what she was going to say, darting her eyes back at Blake before continuing.
“I wanted to stay close to home, so I didn’t go away to school. I went for two years there and then I took online design courses. It all worked out. I have all the design clients I can handle.”
“That’s awesome. So you decorate houses?”
“Actually, I do more public spaces—offices, restaurants, that kind of thing.”
She’s opening and closing cabinets, looking for something, and stops to glance back at Blake with a grin. “Although I’ve been known to take on afewspecial private clients here and there.Ifthey pay in gourmet meals.”
He laughs and goes to an upper cabinet, taking out a plastic, lidded container. That must have been what she was looking for.
Then he opens a lower cabinet and produces a paper bag, which he unfolds. He crosses to the stove, fills the container with a portion of Chicken Saltimbocca, and places it inside the bag.
Rolling the top of it tightly, he says, “Don’t want this to spill on your fancy Jaguar interior.”
She takes the offered to-go meal, standing on tiptoe to kiss her brother’s cheek.
“Thank you, sir.” Then she turns to me. “Well, I hope I’ll be seeing you again real soon, Cadence. It really was great to meet you. Walk me to the door, Blake?”
