Or she was.
“I don’t want to add stress to an already exhausting situation, but I need you to tell me what me staying here means for you. Do you need me around or do you need me to be a ghost? Either way is fine, and I promise you won’t hurt my feelings if it’s the latter.”
“Be a ghost? My house isn’t that big. We’re bound to run into each other.”
“You’d be surprised.” She snorts out a laugh but I’m not kidding. I’m exactly who and what I need to be in any situation.
“What about food and all your promises of cooking?” She props her arm on the counter and rests her face in her palm. “You promised me dinner.”
“And that hasn’t changed. I just need to know if you want to share meals or if you want me to leave things in the fridge for you to heat up later.”
“I don’t think I can make anymore decisions today.” Slumping forward, she lets her forearm fall to the counter, her head following before turning to look at me. “I don’t want this.”
“I know.”
“I just want to wake up and you won’t be here and everything will be normal and great. Where I don’t have to worry about meal prepping or needing a babysitter to leave the house.” Belatedly she adds, “No offense.”
“None taken.”
“Fine. You can stay. But we need to figure out some ground rules.”
And now we’re getting somewhere…
10
KAT
After another tense fifteen minutes, I was finally able to escape from the kitchen while Tom handed off the envelope to someone in a dark SUV. There was a hushed conversation I couldn’t hear before the man left and Tom came back inside, engaging every lock imaginable and the security system Colt had insisted upon when I moved in.
It feels like overkill but I’ve already agreed to this, to Tom being my shadow for the foreseeable future.
I just hate it.
Because this is what I write about but it’s not…me.
What would my heroine do?
I let my head loll back and forth as I climb the stairs, stories and plot lines ping-ponging through my brain. The heroines in my books are strong.
Fierce.
Capable.
Also, not in real danger.
Ignoring that last part, I bypass my bedroom and head straight for my office. The dark green walls greet me as soon as I turn on the overhead light. The chandelier is elegant butfunctional, something sparkly that gives the room an expensive feel.
I’d gotten it at an estate sale and made Colt carry it around as I looked through a treasure trove of things I didn’t need and wouldn’t purchase. I don’t like clutter, and painstakingly chose each and every item so it has a place and purpose.
My house probably looks bland and boring, but it’s mine and it’s relaxing.
Mostly.
The only room with even a hint of chaos is this one. It’s my creative center with its dark green walls and pink and white accents.
It’s bold and fun and everything I wish I could be, like if I could let my hair down and just beme, this is what I’d look like.
Hypothetically speaking.
