Page 13 of Code Mages & Empty Pages
His tail twitched and slapped against his knee.
Another nervous tic?
“Don’t mention it. Want a quick tour of the place?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure. I can unpack later. I didn’t bring a lot.”
I set the box I held in my arms on the beautifully crafted desk made from dark, highly polished wood and followed him back out onto the landing.
“This is the bathroom.” He held the door open. It, too, was a spacious room for such a small cottage. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said the house was bigger on the inside. I gasped. “Luc, this is gorgeous!”
“Oh, thanks. It was a lot of work,” he said.
“Wait, did you renovate it yourself?” I gaped from him back to the stunning bathroom.
“Yeah, I did. I also did everything in your room.”
“What do you mean you did everything in my room? You didn’t build that desk, did you?”
“Well, actually, I did. I’m pretty handy,” he said, rubbing a hand over his nape and ruffling the longer fur there. His hairs gleamed silver when the light hit them right.
“Wow, I can’t believe that, Luc. You’re an artist.”
His tail twitched again, and he spun on the spot and pointed at the door across from my room.
Yep, got you.Shy and hides from compliments.
“This is my bedroom.” He did not open the door, and I did not ask.
We went back downstairs to a decently sized kitchen. A small vase with fresh flowers stood on the scrubbed wooden table that I was sure he’d also built himself.
Holy shit, hewasgreat at this.
On the other side of the entryway was the living room. It was a cosy space with a small fireplace and doors that led out onto a deck and into the garden. A half-empty bookshelf spanned an entire wall.Oh gosh.I was glad I didn’t spot any of my books on the shelves.
I didn’t think I’d survive him asking me to sign them. The idea of my colleague reading my writing made my face heat. It was cosy, yes, but also hot and filthy.
“There’s still a lot to do, of course,” he said gruffly.
I nodded, although I didn’t know what he meant. His house was beautiful. It was way more gorgeous than mine would ever be, and I’d always thought I’d scored on the property market.
“I really like your place, Luc. Thank you so much for letting me share it.”
He met my eyes and for the second time in a week, he sank into them. I suddenly realised how close I stood to him. I’d stepped nearer to look out into the garden from here.
“Um, are you hungry?” he asked in a shaky voice.
“Uh, yeah, I could eat,” I muttered as I tore my eyes away.
“Good, I’ll fix us some dinner if you want. Why don’t you unpack your boxes and come meet me in the kitchen afterwards?” He took a deep breath and fled the room without waiting for my answer.
It took me barely fifteen minutes to set up my laptop and writing journal on the desk and sort my clothes into the wardrobe. I pushed the box that now held two of my scarves and my toys into the back where a longer dress concealed it from view.
Five minutes later, I found nothing else I could do to give him more time to acclimate to having me in his space. When I walked down the stairs, I made sure to stomp my feet loudly so he could brace himself for an unexpected guest.
Our first shared dinner was an awkward affair. I didn’t understand his hot and cold behaviour; there were moments when I thought he was finally coming around and cracked a joke. His eyes would drop to and linger on my cleavage or my lips as I spoke, and each time his intense gaze sent a shiver down my spine. Then he would snap back to his standoffish behaviour… I just did not understand!? My brain desperately tried to solve the equation but couldn’t unravel all the variables.
Is he mad at himself for liking me?
