Page 5 of Wild Tides
Lee lay scowling at his laptop from his office couch. I forced a bright smile as I carried my duffel toward the stairs.
“Hey! Need anything? If not, I’ll settle in.”
“Nope.”
Used to his monosyllabic responses when he was writing, I carried my things upstairs.
The second floor of Lee’s house had a large kitchen and living room with magnificent views of the water. Sailboats moored like tiny islands in this part of the Salish Sea, bobbing peacefully in the protected waters. I bypassed the kitchen, heading to the third floor and Lee’s bedroom. In all the years we’d been friends, I’d only been inside his room on the day he moved. Then, it had lacked any personality, essentially a blank canvas for Lee to make his own.
Staring at it now, if I hadn’t helped haul furniture five years ago, I’d believe he moved in last week. The walls were still bare. A king-size bed took up most of the floor space, neatly made with gray bedding that looked soft enough to sink into. But that was the room’s only touch of comfort. His dresser was free of any knickknacks or photos. There were no stray socks on the floor, no discarded cups or plates on the bedside table. It felt more like a hotel room than a bedroom.
Something about that struck me as sad. Lee would probably argue that the room was tranquil, but it just looked unlived in.
A large window looking out over the bay drew my eye. The view of the water was stunning. Bright blue and magnificent. If he’d wanted to keep the focus of every room on the water, he’d succeeded.
Lee was tapping away on his laptop when I returned downstairs.
“What would you like for lunch?” I asked.
He pointed to his desk. “I’ve got protein bars in my top drawer.”
“Not good enough, Lee.”
“I don’t need you to wait on me, Vi. Go back to work. I’ve got this.” His words would have been more convincing if they hadn’t ended on a wince.
“I’ve already closed the shop for the day. If I’m not helping you, I’m grabbing my laptop to see if Harry’s online for a game.”
He looked relieved, and I tried not to take it as an insult.
“That sounds like a great idea. Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
Recognizing the hunger gnawing at my belly, I faded out of the room and went to inspect his kitchen. It was gorgeous –beautiful white cabinets, a huge island for prep, and top-end appliances. A chef’s dream. And like the rest of the house, it looked like Lee barely touched it.
I pulled open cabinets, excitement turning to dismay as each cupboard was nearly bare. No spices. Hardly any staples like flour or rice. What did the man eat? If I asked, he’d probably roll his eyes and point to his drawer of protein bars. I had no idea that eating with me constituted the bulk of his real nutrition. Lee wasn’t built like my brothers, but he had muscle in all the right places. I couldn't believe he managed a body like that on protein bars and a few sad cans of soup.
I grabbed my keys, calling out, “I’m headed to the grocery store. Any requests?”
Frowning, he dug out his wallet, extending a card. “Yes. Use my card.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I protested.
His frown turned to a glower. “Yes. I do. That glint in your eye tells me this isn’t a run for milk. Take my card. I can afford it.” His expression softened. “Have fun, Vi.”
For anyone else, it would have been a chore. But for me? Heaven. He’d as good as given me permission to outfit his entire kitchen.
I grinned. “Text me if you think of any requests. I may be a while.”
“I really would be happy with more protein bars. Maybe a loaf of bread for grilled cheese.”
“Where’s your imagination, Lee?”
He glanced down at his laptop. “Figuring out how to murder this truck driver and make it look like an accident to keep my readers guessing.”
“Gotcha,” I said dryly. “Let me know if you need a brainstorming buddy.”
His lip quirked up at the corner. “You think about murder a lot?”
“Only when it comes to my family.”
