But so could my intruder.
Dammit.
I grab a pair of PJ bottoms from the end of the bed where I left them yesterday and pull them on. I really wish I could remember the events of last night. That’s a weird thing to run through my mind as I creep my way down the stairs, but I don’t like having a huge gap in my memory, either.
There’s definitely someone in my kitchen. And they have the balls to be humming and chatting with my cat like they own the damn place!
Rage fills me. Throwing common sense and caution aside, I storm down the rest of the stairs and run into the kitchen, screaming like a maniac and hoping it scares them out, just to slide to a stop on the other side of the kitchen counter from the last person in the world I expected to see.
My intruder is Desi.
He has the balls to start laughing. “Babe, what’s wrong?”
Bits and pieces of last night float to the surface. “You…you’re…” I swallow against another wave of alcohol-induced nausea.
“I drove you home last night.” He scowls. “Wow, you really were drunk. You slept snuggled against me all night.” It looks like he’s making French toast. He washes his hands in the sink and rounds the center island. “Karaoke? Apologizing? Do I need to do all that again? Because say the word, and I’ll grovel like there’s no tomorrow, even without the audience this time.”
Feels like the wind’s knocked out of me. “Apologize?”
“Yeah.” He takes my hands in his. “I’m back for good. Last night, you said I still had a chance to make this right. I’m sorry. I never should have left. I want to come home and be with you. Please?”
The room swirls and dips as another wave of dizzying nausea overwhelms me again.
“Whoa, baby. Easy.” He helps me over to one of the chairs at the small table here in the kitchen, where he drops to his knees in front of me and holds my hand. “Nothing, huh? About last night, I mean?”
Images I thought had been nothing more than dreams float through my head. “It’s all pretty…blurry.”
He holds my hand pressed against his cheek. I feel morning stubble there gently rasping against my flesh, anchoring me to the present and reassuring me this is totally real.
“I worried you might not remember everything.” He smiles. “You were pretty much in the bag by the time I found you there. I stopped by here first, then looked all around town for you. Saw the ad for the Falls Inn in the paper in the living room and realized—”
“Wait.” I struggle to focus. “You still have keys to the house?”
“Well, yeah. You told me to keep them.”
My emotions swing widely and rapidly between overwhelming love for this man, that he kept his keys, and anger that my privacy’s been invaded. “Why didn’t you call me back last night?”
“I did. I left you a couple of voice mails. I guess you couldn’t hear your phone over the music.” He smirks. “And the alcohol.” Damn him, that’s the same handsome smirk that disarmed me in college and started my fall for him then.
He releases my hand with a gentle squeeze, stands, and retrieves my cell from the counter, where he’d plugged it into my charger. He returns with it and once more drops to his knees on the floor in front of me.
I quickly scroll through the call log.
Yep. He called me back. Three times, and left me two voice mails. I don’t play the voice mails.
I set my phone on the table. “Okay.” I lick my lips and swallow back another, lesser wave of nausea. “Please start over, huh?”
He does, telling me what happened and why he’s in town. When he finishes I’m still feeling torn, even more than before. “So you were in town since yesterday morning and didn’t tell me…why?”
“Because I was afraid. I wanted to show up in person. I was going to do it sooner than I did, but what Keith Barnes told me threw a wrench into my plans. Now, I have to make this right. I got sidetracked researching so I can get everything set up for him.”
I’m…stunned. “He was going to sell to a developer?” This is news to me. Something that big never stays a secret for long in this town.
“Yeah.” He reaches up with his other hand and cups my cheek. “Don’t worry. Iwilltake care of this. I have to file more paperwork this morning, but I can do it electronically from here. I have my computer with me.”
He points up at the table where I see that, in fact, his laptop is already set up and he has a document open on the screen. “It’ll take me a couple of hours. I want everything filed before I tell the firm the news about the sale being dead. That way, with everything in motion, Keith won’t likely consider any new offer the developer might throw his way. Not that I think he’d sell for any amount once I have this set up. He didn’t want to sell at all.” He studies me for a moment. “Are you going into work today?”
“No. I feel…crappy.” I do feel a little better than I did when I woke up. Emotionally, at least. Closing my eyes, I take a long, deep breath. “Can you please get me a glass of water?”
