Page 17 of Revelry
She swayed side to side. “Whatchya doing?”
I fought an eyeroll. “Making dinner.”
“Ooh, I’d love some thanks,” she said then pushed past me into the house. I was so shocked at her blatant invasion that it took me a minute to realize she’d disappeared into my kitchen.
I shut the door and hurried after her, spluttering, “I only have enough for one.”
“I don’t eat much,” she called over her shoulder as she began rummaging in my cabinets. “Where do you keep your plates?”
She opened one cupboard and pulled out some dishes, then not seeing any plates put them back but not in the same order.
My nerves screamed to go and rearrange. “Gertrude, please stop.”
She reached for a wall cabinet, her t-shirt riding up and exposing a smooth slip of her back and the unmistakable ink of a tattoo I was now desperate to see.
Gertrude continued poking around in my things. Ihatedpeople poking my things with a fiery passion. From the devious glint in her eye, she was doing it on purpose.
“I’m just messing, Tate. I have dinner at home.”
My body sighed and I’m sure I did too, out loud.
She frowned at me. “You need to relax. And maybe smile more, sugar.”
I balked. “I’ll smile when I see something worth smiling for.”
She unfurled a devilish grin. “That sounded like a challenge.”
Infuriating woman. “It wasn’t.”
“I’ll make you smile, Tate. It’s my new life’s mission.” As she walked past, she stopped at the stove and dipped her finger through the sauce in the pan and swiped her tongue over the digit. My body betrayed me, and I felt my cock pulse beneath my sweatpants at the sight of that tongue sliding over her finger.
She moaned. “Yes, Tate, a bit more salt and then that is perfect.”
I stood dumbstruck. She’d waltzed into my house, uninvited, rummaged in my cupboards, upset my order and put her fingers in myfoodand as well as being horrified, I was turned on.
I was not impressed.
Absolutely not.
I was also speechless.
“G’night, Tatey,” she winked again and finger-waved before bouncing around me. The front door closed, and my house was empty of intruders. I waited for the wave of peace to crash over me, but it never came.
The letter she gave me was still in my hand so I tore it open. It was a note from her mom Lucy, and Cathy, explaining they would be away for six months and thanking me for the help I’d given them over the last few years. It also said that Gertrude would be staying to watch over the house.
Fuck.
She would be here for six months at least.
Closing my eyes, I counted back from ten. Then crumpled up the letter. I needed to get out. To get away from her sweet scent that was lingering in my kitchen and driving me insane.
I grabbed the pan and dumped it into the sink, then changed my clothes and went to Tony’s for pizza, refusing to glance next door at that silly car or see if I could glimpse its silly owner through the drapes.
The smell of dough and tomato sauce hit me as I pushed open the door to Tony’s Pizzeria, taking me back fifteen years. I warred with myself over Tony’s. Part of me hated the memories of feeling left out as a teenager and the jealousy over the other kids enjoying life. Part of me was nostalgic for the times I managed to escape and be on my own, working hard, and my chats with Tony.
He was the only person I spoke to in any social capacity. I didn’t like socializing, but Tony usually forced me into it.
“Tate!” Tony cried when he saw me. He came out from behind the counter and clapped me on the back, his wrinkled facing creasing deeper with concern. “You look tired. Too old for only your thirties, you need more fun in your life.”
