Page 38 of The Persistence of Thornes
“Yeah, see ya,” Casen says without looking away from his video game.
Once again, I’m thankful I managed to rescue their gaming console when our mother went on a rampage and destroyed everything in sight.
It rained last night, making the pathway between our homes muddy, so I take careful steps the whole way. On Caleb’s front porch, I set the coffees down and take my shoes off. No way am I dragging mud through Caleb’s impeccably kept house.
After unlocking the front door, I scoop up the cups and let myself inside.
“Oh my God.”
The words leave me without my permission.
Damn.
Caleb is partway down the stairs, dressed in a fitted navy suit, his hair slightly damp from a shower and curling at his collar. As he hits the bottom stair, he snaps his watch in place and looks up at me, his eyes dancing with mirth.
Caleb looks incredible in a t-shirt and jeans, but thisman in a suit and tie? He’s on another level. I never thought I’d be attracted to the buttoned-up suit kind of man, yet here I am. Or maybe it’s just Caleb that has this effect on me.
“Hey,” he says, quickly eating up the space between us with his long legs. That one word serves as a bucket of cold water, pulling me out of my stupor. “Turns out I’m needed in Boston today. Are you good here?”
“Y-Yeah.” I stutter. How is it that he can fluster me so easily?
“I brought you a coffee.” I thrust the cup out to him, thankful I went with a travel mug.
“Thanks.” With a grateful smile, he takes a sip. “Remind me how you got fired from the coffee shop again?”
“The barista life is not for me.”
Also, the espresso machine is the devil in disguise. The hissing sound it made was not of this world.
He chuckles. “I left a stack of papers for you to go through on my desk. If I think of anything else, I’ll call. The change of plans has me a bit frazzled.” He blows out a breath. “Hopefully I’ll be back later.”
With that, he’s gone. I lock the door behind him, then head upstairs to his office. The computer is already booted up, so all I have to do is click on the icon for my profile and use my fingerprint to log on.
While I wait for his email to load, I flip through the documents he’s left behind for me to get an idea of what I need to get done. Then I sort through his inbox, responding to the ones I’m CC’d on and looking at the ones he’s flagged for me. This is the first time I’ve been here workingalone. All week, he’s worked from home, setting himself up in the chair in the corner of the office with his laptop on his lap. Yesterday, when he took a call, he went downstairs like he typically does, earbuds in place so he can talk hands-free. But when he returned, he brought turkey sandwiches with the most incredible sauce. A sauce whose ingredients he refused to share.
“Secret recipe.” He’d smirked, clearly pleased that I enjoyed the sandwich enough to ask.
I’ve only replied to one email when my phone rings.
“Hey,” Caleb says when I answer, the background noise from his Bluetooth speaker almost deafening. “I think I left a folder I need. Can you check?”
“Sure.” I slide the chair back and stand. “Where do you think it is?”
“Check my bedroom. I think it’s on the dresser.”
“Caleb.” I bite my lip, trying and failing to keep my laughter at bay. “Why on earth would you have a work folder in your bedroom?”
He lets out a gruff sigh. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“You could read a book. Or watch a movie. Or?—”
“Okay, I get your point. Just look, please.”
I head down the hall to the closed door across from the one whose door is open and clearly belongs to a little girl. I ease the bedroom door open, waiting for it to squeak, but the sound never comes. Caleb must have replaced the doors and hinges when he remodeled, because not a single one squeaks like mine do. One of these days I’ll remember to pick up WD-40.
“Oh, wow,” I gasp as I step into his room.
Caleb’s chuckle echoes in my ear, but it barely registers. I’m too busy taking in the space. The walls are painted a dark charcoal, and the floor is layered with two rugs that overlap. The bed is huge—what size mattress is bigger than a king? Because this has to be it—with a black velvet headboard. The bed coverings are in shades of cream, with a black blanket at the foot. Most surprising are the throw pillows in complementary shades.
