She tucked a box of tissues under her arm, grabbed her wineglass and the bottle, and headed for the bathroom.A long soak in the tub and a few glasses of chardonnay and she’d be as good as new.She turned on the water in the bathtub, then rested her wine on the sink while she blew her nose.Finished the wine.Refilled her glass.
Maybe she’d get a cat.She’d been thinking about getting a cat.A rescue.One that no one else wanted—like her.She drank again.Blew her nose again.
She was about to pour herself another when a strange sound made her turn the water off and listen.The sound came again.Doorbell.
Oh fuck.Someone was at the door.
ChapterFourteen
When Silas pulled up to the tiny yellow house that matched the address Manahan had given him, he had to smile.For all of Meredith’s hardheaded attitude, her home was ultrafeminine.Freshly planted pansies lined both sides of the walk, and a wreath of grapevine and huckleberry graced her door.The front porch was tastefully decorated with potted plants and trees.He pressed the doorbell next to the cherry-red door.
He heard shuffling, and then the lace curtains moved aside.A muffled curse came from somewhere behind the peephole.The door didn’t open.He imagined her standing there, hoping he’d go away.
“Meredith, I’m so sorry,” he said through the door.“I should have called, but I was distracted.I had a break in the case today.Let me in and I’ll tell you about it.”
After a short beat, her voice called back, “Just a minute.”There were running footsteps, scrapes, and a loud thunk.She cursed.
“Are you okay?”
A few seconds later, the dead bolt gave way.
The puffy pink bathrobe she wore was stained at the collar with the remnants of what he thought was mascara, but Meredith must have washed her face, because she wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup.Only her red-rimmed eyes gave away the truth that she’d been crying.Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, the ends still curled as if it had been done earlier.And her shoulders were slumped.
Mine.The word came quick and firm and with the overwhelming urge to care for the woman in front of him.It was a possessive thought, uninvited, but it barreled into him nonetheless.Goddess, what could he say to her?He stared at her for an uncomfortable amount of time, then cleared his throat with a good hard cough.
“Can I make you something to eat?”he asked.
She laughed.
“If you don’t have anything to cook, I could order something.You need to eat.Weneed to eat… and talk.”
“I waited for you.”
“I went to see Ryker about the heart.It turns out he was the demon who was with Soleil last night.”
Her mouth popped open, and a tight inhale lifted her chest.“Shit on a shingle.”
He nodded.“With a vomit burrito on the side.”
Her countenance changed immediately, and she reached for his shoulder, guiding him toward the kitchen.“Come on.Let’s see what we’ve got.”
“You sit down,” he said.“After the ass I was to you tonight, let me make you something.”
As it turned out, Meredith’s homey decor extended right into her refrigerator.Silas found the barely touched remains of a roast chicken that he slipped into the oven, and a good selection of fresh vegetables.He pulled out some asparagus to sauté and put a few potatoes on the stove to boil.
“Nothing says home like a roast chicken,” she said absently.
When he closed the fridge, he noticed a picture held to the door with a chili pepper magnet.“This is your family?”Silas remembered her father.His bright red hair was something you didn’t soon forget.Grayson.He was a high-ranking member of Crescent Star.He’d never met Meredith’s mother, who stood on her other side.What was her name again?He didn’t remember.She had sleek black hair, peppered with gray, soulful brown eyes, and dark olive skin that signaled Mediterranean ancestry.Remembering her parents, he could see the resemblance in Meredith’s brown eyes and red waves.
“Yeah.I keep it there to remind me to call Mom.She hasn’t been herself since Dad’s death.”
Silas turned back to the stove and changed the subject.He was supposed to be cheering her up.“How long have you lived here?”
While she told him about the house and her neighbors, he finished heating the food, relieved when she slowly started smiling again.He pulled the chicken and asparagus from the stove, then brought the whipped potatoes to the table.“I can’t really cook.Not like my friend Logan anyway.But I survive on the basics.”
Meredith spooned a heap onto her plate and licked some off her thumb.“I’m barely proficient at cooking in general, but I can bake.You should taste my pie.”
“I’d love to taste your pie.”The words tumbled out of his mouth, latent sexual energy charging every word.Easy, Silas.
