7
CHARLI
Heck,pacing and watching the seagulls squawk and dive into the bay for their morning meal wasn’t helping. I needed my clothes from the dryer so I could change. It was long past nine.
The night had left me in a mess, unable to sleep, along with a throbbing head. An Advil had eased the ache a bit, but the day still had to be faced. And War. And my mother. Christ! I didn’t want to think about that.
I straightened my spine and left the guest room, focusing on my new job instead. It reminded me I had to get my laptop and tablet from home. Not something I wanted to do either, but I had no choice.
Barefoot, I padded to the living room and stumbled to a halt, thoughts of work evaporating like mist.
War lay on the couch, facing the entrance, an arm flung over his eyes, still in his sweats, and shirtless.
He’d slept there?
As if sensing me, his arm lowered, and those blue eyes locked on me.
Rubbing my hands down my t-shirt, I hurried for the laundry without a word to him. Yes, it wasn’t nice of me, considering he’d given me a place to stay. But my emotions were all over the place, and the thought of my mother kissing him…
No, not thinking aboutthat, either.
I found my clothesfoldedand left on the dryer, along with my bra and bikini panties. At his thoughtful gesture, hurt thickened my throat. Why couldn’t Mothernothave crossed paths with him?
I pivoted and nearly screeched at finding him hovering in the laundry entrance. He appeared tired, his skin drawn tight over the bones of his face as if he hadn’t slept. While I stood there, doubtless looking like a hunted deer.
“Coffee?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head. Clothes gripped to my chest, I scurried past, my arm brushing his warm abs. My stomach tightened, and I dashed for the bedroom. Breathing hard, I shut the door.
A short while later, dressed in my shorts, tee, and sneakers, I left the room, slinging my tote on my shoulder and leaving the sloth behind because I couldn’t take him. He reminded me of things that I could never have. He belonged to this place, to War.
I slipped on my shades and headed for the door—
Dammit! I spun back, tookmysloth, pushed him into my tote, and stalked out.
As I neared the living room, the aroma of coffee reached me.
War strode out from behind the kitchen isle, dressed in faded jeans with worn knees. A threadbare gray t-shirt covered his chest. In his hands, he carried two to-go coffees. His gaze skimmed me again, but I avoided his eyes.
“I’ll see you later at the house.” My voice sounded rusty, as if I hadn’t used it in years.
“Why? Is there something important you have to do?”
Yes, find my sanity.
I bit the words back, my gaze flashing to his. “Look. I made a stupid bet without thinking, so I’ll pay my dues and weed your garden. But I’ll find my own way there.”
His jaw morphed to rigid, eyes darkening to storm clouds. He set the coffees on the sideboard in the foyer. It brought him a step closer, and his warmth curled around me, unsettling me again.
“We’re going to the same house, so how exactly is this helpful?”
Much as I didn’t want to move, to show my resolve, but being this close to him wasn’t helping. I stepped back, lifted my chin, and said stiffly, “I need a change of clothes, andno, I don’t expect you to take me to my home or anywhere else for that matter every time I have to do things.”
“Again, how is this helpful? You still must get to the beach house, so I will take you to Pacific Heights. And Charli,” his tone gave no quarter, “We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“Then we aren’t leaving here.” He moved to stand in front of the door, arms folded. “I have nothing pressing going on today or for the next week. You?”
