She was going to have the place all to herself for two days, unless she decided to take the drive up to the mountains to her grams place. At the rate she was feeling, she didn't think it was likely.
She would drink some soup and have a nap. Her mother, bless her heart, had left some chicken roasting in the oven, in case she got her appetite back or the return of her tastebud. But right now, she would settle for soup and a nap. Pushing to her feet, she waited for the buzzing sound to stop and headed out the room. She was about to head upstairs when the bell rang.
Snarling her impatience and wondering who would dare to visit someone's house on Christmas Day, she seriously considered ignoring the doorbell.
When it pealed again, she gathered her robe about her and made her careful way to open the door. Going on her toes, she checked the Judas hole and staggered back in shock.
Vanity had her passing a hand over her disheveled hair and remembering that she looked like something the cat dragged in through the mud. Pressing her lips together, she reminded herself that she had not invited him.
Unlocking the doors, she pulled them open and blocked his entrance.
"What do you want?"
His thick brows lifted as he did a quick survey of her ravaged face. And found himself wondering that she still managed to look beautiful.
"Why don't we start with a courteous greeting? I hear, how are you, is still popular."
"I'm not feeling courteous and Zoe is not here."
"Our daughter keeps me informed. She called while they were on their way to your grandmother. It's cold and you don't need to be letting out the heat." He walked in and closed the doors behind him.
"How about some tea? Point me to the kitchen."
"I don't need you looking after me." She followed behind him as he wound his way through the narrow passageway and found the kitchen.
"Too bad. You don't get to call the shots." He put the kettle on and rooted through the pantry to find some selections of tea.
"Ginger." He glanced over at her standing just inside the doorway.
"You look like you're ready to drop. Why don't you sit."
"Why don't you leave?"
His sigh was one of longsuffering.
"I thought about what you said to me several weeks ago and decided to put it behind us. And you might as well save your breath, I'm staying."
"What happened to the blonde?" She could have bitten off her tongue for saying it.
"What blonde?"
"The actress."
"Oh," His smile came and the dimple peeked out, reminding her so much of her daughter. The man was lethal. He had on a chunky black and white sweater over midnight black dress pants. With his thick dark hair charmingly tousled, he looked like a fallen angel.
"Saw that, did you?"
"It does not matter. Shouldn't you be with her?" She watched as he squeezed honey onto a tablespoon.
"She's in the Bahamas. Film location."
"Why aren't you with her?"
He gave her a curious look that had her shifting.
"For someone who claimed not to be interested, you're awfully nosy." The kettle squealed just then, and he turned to turn off the flame.
"Marcie and I are just friends, nothing more." He poured water over the pouch and stirred in honey.
