His jaw ached clenching it this hard to keep all the profanities in his head from exploding out into the midnight air.
“Show me where I’ll be sleeping,” he growled. “That’s all I want from you right now.”
“The sofa.”
Fuck. “A sofa?”
“Oh, it’s really long and wide. You should just about fit.”
Should just aboutdidn’t sound great. Seb’s head pounded an irritating reminder that living together had beenhisstupid idea. He took a deep breath. “Show me to the sofa. Please.”
Without a word, Helen turned toward the house, bypassing the wide wooden front door to the side of the building. A security light came on, blinding him, shooting pain through his head. He shielded his sore eyes and followed her through a side door. Helen flicked on a light, revealing—
Whoa!Seb staggered back.Had she been burgled?
But Helen wasn’t the least bit concerned that all kinds of shit covered every known surface of the … kitchen?
She clunked her keys on the only clear patch of counter. “Can I get you a drink or something?”
How about a few empty trash cans?
Seb’s gaze shifted from the mess on the table to the sink overfilled with dirty dishes, pots, pans and—What the hell was in that tub?Rotting food?
“Those are scraps for my chickens,” she mumbled, noticing his eyeline. “I didn’t get a chance to tidy up this morning. To be honest, it feels like I’ve been away from home for days”—she glanced up at the wooden clock on the wall—“but it’s only been fourteen hours.”
Seb squinted to read the time, his vision blurring. 12:15 a.m. Seventeen hours ago, he’d been looking after Mikey’s kids. Add on the few hours he’d spent in the pool and gym beforehand and …he’d been awake fortwenty-one hours.The previous day, he’d only had three hours sleep, and four hours the day before that, when he’d flown to England.
“Sebastian? You don’t look very well. Are you sure I can’t get you anything?”
“No.” His eyelids scratched his eyeballs. “Thank you. I just need to sleep.”
She motioned him through to another room, strewn with magazines, books, boxes and jars. The only partially clear area was a sunken-looking sofa.
“I didn’t get a chance to clear up in here either.” Helen chewed her bottom lip, and Seb addedslobto the list. It went right up there withloose cannon,erraticandreckless.“The bathroom is past the kitchen. I’ll get some bedding for you. I won’t be long.”
Helen disappeared down a hall. Her footsteps sounded softly up a flight of stairs then creaked across the ceiling above his head. Seb went to the bathroom, pulled the light cord, and—yep, she hadn’t gotten around to tidying up in here either. The toilet, sink and tub were at least clean, but the row of carved wooden ducks on the window ledge and the frilly blue curtains tied to each side with lace were covered in a fine film of dust and spiderwebs.
Seb used the toilet and flushed. Water wheezed through the pipes to refill the cistern, shattering the quiet of the house, and Seb jumped back startled. When silence returned with a final hiss, Seb stalked back to the room with the sofa. There were a few thuds and thumps coming from upstairs, closets, cupboards or drawers opening and closing. Seb placed his car keys next to a vase of wilted flowers on the mantel, tugged off his jacket and—unable to find anywhere to hang it—dumped it on the floor next to the fireplace filled with logs and cobwebs.
“What a shithole.” Seb yanked at his bow tie, then noticed Helen standing in the doorway.Aw, fuck.He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Here’s your blanket.” She shoved a quilt at his chest and stormed off into an adjoining room.
“Helen!” Seb strode after her but she shut the door in his face. “I’m sorry. That was extremely rude of me. It’s just been one hell of a very long day and I’mexhausted.”
“You’d better get some sleep, then! Goodnight, Sebastian.”
Seb sighed, rubbed his eyes and turned away. “Yeah. Goodnight, Helen.”
Chapter 13
Jab,jab,cross.Jab,jab, cross.
Early next morning, Helen pummeled the crap out of her punchbag, needing to blast out yesterday’s misfortunes from her system before Sebastian woke up. Stepping back, she side- kicked the bag, threw a few more punches, then kicked again and again until plumes of sand bled out from the torn seams.
“I think you won.” Her brother stood in the doorway behind her, a dog at his feet and a sleeping baby strapped to his chest. “Your first day on community service went well, then?”
“No.” Helen wiped sweat off her brow with her forearm and bent down to pet Ned, Tom’s cocker spaniel, who’d trotted up with a furiously wagging tail to greet her. “It was awful, but not for the reasons you might think.”
