My fingers twitched on the door handle, and I tightened my grip so I wouldn’t do anything irresponsible, like climbing this stranger like a jungle gym. Rock my hips against his. Run my fingers through that short hair on the nape of his neck. He had strong features that would look stunning in a sketchy, black-and-gray rendition, with cheekbones that could cut glass and reflect light.
I really needed to get laid.
“Hi,” I greeted after a moment that felt longer than it likely was. “Can I help you?”
“Let him in, Lucian!” Dad instructed, his emphasis and volume making me jump.
“Sorry,” I replied thoughtlessly before stepping aside so the stranger could step past me. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” The man raised an eyebrow at me and passed, careful not to hit me with his bags, which I was grateful for.
My body was at least starting to cool down, but it was like my skin buzzed at his proximity, something that hadn’t happened since my last night out at the club with sweaty men who offered to dance with me.
“I’m glad to see you make it, Mr. Bristol.” Dad extended his hand, which the stranger—Mr. Bristol—shook once he set down his bag against my kitchen island. “You came at just the right time.”
“Just Knox is fine, sir.” The man’s smile was slightly strained.
Cordelia was practically vibrating with excitement as she slipped past Dad to shake Knox’s hand, too. “I’m Cordelia. Surely you remember me from last night.”
Knox nodded and shook her hand, though his eyebrows shot up when her fingers trailed up his wrist to brush across his skin. “I remember.”
I felt heat in my cheeks, my first urge to slap her hand away from him.
“Lucian,” Dad waved me over once I’d shut the door, “Come meet Knox Bristol. He’s going to be staying here for the month.”
“What?” My eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”
Knox frowned. “You didn’t know?”
Dad just waved off Knox’s concern. “He was at the auction last night, son. Like we were just saying, you’ve not been adequately taking care of yourself. This exhibit is important to you and to our family. So Cordelia and I decided to hire Mr. Bristol to be your in-home chef until after the exhibit. That’s one less thing for you to be worrying about when you need to be focusing on your work.”
“I don’t understand.” I shook my head. “Dad, I don’t need a chef–”
“I won’t be hearing it, Lucian.” Dad held up a hand to silence me.
I shut my mouth because he had that expression warning me away from questioning him in front of someone else.
All the good heat from before was gone, replaced by a chilly breeze I knew wasn’t from my AC unit. I lifted my hand to rub over my shirt sleeve, desperate for some warmth or something for my antsy hands to occupy themselves with.
“Good.” Dad nodded at my silence. “He will be here for a month. That gives you plenty of time to focus. No need to thank me, of course, because I just wanted to provide for my son. I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”
Then he reached for his jacket to leave, like his business had concluded now that he’d delivered a chef to my doorstep.
I saw Jackson out of the corner of my eye as he stalked around the counter, heading for where Knox was standing, but clearly out of his eyesight. Jackson’s tail flicked back and forth, like a true tiny lion.
“So you’ll have to clean out that guest bedroom,” Cordelia added with a wink, still invading Knox’s space, her hand trailing over his arm and tugging on his sleeve.
My lungs seized.
My studio. They were making me clear out my studio so a stranger could stay in my home for a month. They were making me house this man, whom I’d never met, in a place that was supposed to be private, my safe space.
A babysitter.
So not only was I on the clock to finish this damned painting, but I had to take apart my art studio, and I had to live in the same space as this man. I couldn’t even get a glass of orange juice without him knowing.
And who knew how deep this transaction went. Was Knox supposed to report to my dad? Spy on me? Make sure I was acting like the perfect son?
“I’ll see you two later. Have fun!” Cordelia trilled, grabbing her jacket and following Dad out, slamming the door behind them.
