Page 197 of One More Kiss

I continued staring, my lips going tight.

He grumbled but turned the sound off, leaving the TV on. I rolled my eyes but started typing again.

Occasionally I would catch him from the corner of my eye. He was watching me. I tried to keep writing but finally I couldn’t stand it. “Can I help you?”

A grin moved across his lips. “Just enjoying the view.”

“The view?”

He nodded then rubbed his beard. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

I looked down at the screen with my jaw hanging open, then looked back at him. “Well, if you must know, a little, yes. I understand we are stuck with each other, so I am trying to be nice and make the most of this. And I have work to do. So.”

“So?”

“So why are staring?” I said with my palms up.

He smiled, then grumbled again as he stood up and walked toward me. Without saying a word, he walked past me then outside.

My pulse was racing. What the hell was he doing?

There was a knock, so I yelled, “Come in!”

He came back inside with some bags and a case of beer. “I was in town earlier and grabbed a few things to take home. I need to put this stuff in the fridge.” He went to the kitchen. “You don’t mind if I drink later, do you?”

“Nope, I probably will be drinking, too.” I needed a drink right now.

Looking back at my screen, I started typing again. The rustling of the bags was a little annoying but not as bad as him staring me down before.

The rest of the afternoon he sat quietly watching TV without the sound. He got up at some point and moved his clothes to the dryer and stepped outside to make a call.

I kept writing, still aware he was there but his staring had stopped, and he seemed to be making an effort to be quiet. Even though I protested earlier, I was somehow disappointed that so much time had passed, and he hadn’t looked my way again.

I did look over to see him in the kitchen. Looking down at the time, I had been writing a solid five hours. Another 8,000 words.

“Holy shit.”

“What was that?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Or maybe I did. I’m used to being alone.” I made sure the document was saved then powered down. “I wrote a ridiculous amount of words today.”

After I stood, I stretched my arms over my head. “Snap, crackle, pop.” I giggled then walked to the kitchen.

He had steaks marinating and a bag of veggies on the counter. “I make those sounds, too. Hope this is fine,” he said, waving a pair of tongs over the food. “No baked potatoes but still not terrible to be trapped.” He put the steaks into a pan on the stove and they sizzled. It immediately smelled delicious.

I grabbed my Fireball from the freezer and pulled a glass from the cabinet. I poured a finger and then held the glass up. “Cheers.”

He grabbed his beer and tapped it to my glass. “Cheers to ridiculous words.”

I chuckled then knocked my shot back and put the glass down. “Not ridiculous words, a ridiculous amount of words.”

“Alright. So, you’re a writer?” he asked as he started pulling pans from under the island.

I poured a little more then put the bottle back in the freezer and took a seat on the other side of the island. “Parttime. I have a corporate job. But it’s work from home. For now, anyway.”

“You plan to go full time writer then?” he asked as he poured veggies into one of the pans. It sizzled as he stirred.

“Oh, that would be wonderful. But I meant my job might make us go back to working in the office soon.”

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