Page 77 of Ice Darling
I unwrap the gift and cradle a box in my palms. “Your mom?”
“She’s babysitting.”
“Ah.” I shake the box. “These must be small flowers.”
“I thought traditional gifts wouldn’t suit you.”
I scrunch my nose. “Why? Because I own a motorcycle?”
“Because you’re you.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or not.”
A hint of laughter in his voice, he mumbles, “Just open the box, Cordelia.”
I do, and inside is nestled a shiny cylindrical object that’s small enough to fit on a keychain.
“What is it?” I ask, lifting the device.
“It’s a magnetic pickup tool. It expands to almost a yard.”
A grin explodes on my face as I lengthen the stick to its full capacity.
“You got hurt looking for a screw. With this, you don’t have to risk your hands while hunting in an engine.”
I run my fingers over the magnet and try to contain my excitement, but I know I’m failing. “I love it. Thank you.”
Renthrow looks pleased, but he doesn’t allow himself to smile. Instead, he pulls his lips into his mouth and puts on a serious face. “Are you ready to go?”
“Just a second. I’m trying to decide on my earrings.” I dash away. In the comfort of my room, I happily lift the keychain to the light and inspect it. It’s perfect. Why have I never heard of this brilliant invention?
I want to drive to the garage and test it out immediately, but Renthrow and Brennon are waiting. Still, I take the time to work the pickup tool on my keychain. Then I slip my keys into my purse.
After putting in my earrings and spritzing some perfume, I walk out of my bedroom.
“I’m such a bad host. Would you want some water or…” I halt when I see Renthrow still standing outside my door. “Why didn’t you come in?”
“You didn’t invite me, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” I laugh. Since when are we so formal with each other?
His ears get a little red again.
Intrigued, I walk slowly to him, noticing the way his eyes dip down my dress. I’m wearing simple black heels and a little black dress that fits me like a glove. It’s not flashy or poofy or ultra feminine, but it’s comfortable and fits my tastes.
To be honest, I wore the dress for Brennon. Not to impress him but to give myself that extra confidence boost. “A woman who looks good, feels good,” is what my mother always says.
But now, I think I wore this dress for Renthrow. For the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. For the way he holds his breath in my presence. For the barely masked hunger in his eyes.
He admitted he finds me beautiful, “exquisite” really, and after hearing from May about how carefully he keeps women at bay, I don’t think he tells that to everybody.
As I approach him, I measure my own feelings. Something shifted between us the night he offered to be my fake boyfriend. And I’m not…mad about it.
“You’ll only act when given permission?”
“When it comes to a lady and her space, yes,” he says without a hint of hesitation.
In an instant, he becomes ten times more attractive.
