Doing that would make me exactly what Abby Nora accused me of being.
A completely selfish jerk who only cares about herself.
“How’s it going to look to my dad if his captain doesn’t recover well because I kicked him out of his own house?” I add.
“Shit.” Holt slouches back on the couch. “Your mom’s been here. She hired a yard crew. You said so.”
“It was only once. She’s not in this part of the city very often.”
Say we can both stay. Say we can be friends. Say we can work this out.
“Does Miranda know?”
“She’s a vault. She won’t tell.”
He eyes me.
“She won’t,” I insist. “She’s had her own problems with friends and secrets. If it doesn’t hurt anyone, it stays locked up. She knew about Abby Nora the day I got home, but I didn’t tell my mom until—well, until you heard me telling my mom. I put it off for weeks, and Miranda didn’t breathe a word. Mom still doesn’t know she knew first.”
“Is there a price to her silence?”
“Yes. It’s called cherry hand pies and Italian wine.”
“Cherry hand pies?”
It’s always the stomach. It isalwaysthe stomach. I latch onto that, and I run. Because I want to stay. And I want him to stay. And I will play dirty for it. “With an airy, buttery crust that you can’t find anywhere else. And fresh cherries too.”
His pupils dilate.
“And when I add homemade ice cream, they cannot be beat.”
“You can make ice cream?”
“Yes.”
“How’s that work?”
“You’ve never had homemade ice cream?”
He shakes his head. His Adam’s apple bobs.
“Happiness is vital to healing.” My voice keeps dropping softer and softer, and he keeps leaning closer and closer. “I’ll run to the store in the morning. I needed to get more potatoes anyway. But I’m feeling better. I can make hand pies and ice cream too. I can probably even eat some with you.”
“This is a bad idea.” His voice is husky.
It resonates through me, setting my skin on fire.
“We’re already screwed,” I whisper. “Let’s just make the most of it for as long as we can.”
The dark scruff on his face, the way he’s staring at me—he’s a pirate who’s decided I’m the treasure he wants.
And I like it.
Even knowing I shouldn’t, I like it.
“My dad isn’t completely unreasonable. Maybe he’ll understand this was all an accident.” I rub my lower belly. “Having a few of those these days. No regrets though.”
“Just roommates.Housemates. We are just housemates.” He’s gone completely hoarse.
