Okay, enough of this. I leave my seat and stride over to the door. My hand grips the edge, and I open it wider. Samuel’s famous panty-dropping smile morphs into a genuine one.
“Dude, you’re back,” he says as Cleo backs away. He drops his arm over my shoulder, and we do the one arm bro hug thing before pulling apart.
“I am.”
“How long for?”
“A few weeks, at least.”
“Fucking awesome. We have to meet and catch up this week.”
“Language,” my grandmother chides.
Samuel blushes. “Sorry, Mrs. Alderidge.”
His gaze drops back to Cleo between us. “Saturday?”
“Fine,” she relents. Wait, what?
Samuel blinks. “Really? You made me a happy man, Cleo.”
“It’s a date, not a proposal,” she says.
“I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Sure.”
Samuel fumbles in his pocket for his phone and reaches out to hand it to Cleo. She folds her arms. “Put your digits in there in case you have a change of heart.”
“I don’t have a phone.” That’s ridiculous; everyone has a phone. Unless she’s in hiding and fears it might leave a trail straight to her. That’s not unfounded, but it is improbable unless the person hunting her has vast means. “As you said, you’ll be here six days a week. Let me know when you are here if anything changes.”
Cleo turns, and Duke swings his head between the retreating woman and the guy at the door he doesn’t trust.
My grandmother’s gaze also tracks her. Cleo grasps her barely touched breakfast and scrapes it into Duke’s bowl. That won’t do—she must have done sixty laps this morning. She can’t function on a crust of bread and a forkful of eggs. She disappears out of the back door. I realize Samuel has been talking nonstop, and I refocus on the conversation.
“She’s been playing hard to get for weeks. But she’s gorgeous. I knew I’d wear her down eventually.”
What changed Cleo’s mind? She doesn’t seem the type to be swayed by persistence. If she told him no, she meant no.Unless… ah, got it.
CHAPTER 18
FOX
I’m no Prince Charming.
Cleo reappears an hour later looking less shaken. She blinks at me like I’m a new piece of furniture before heading into the sitting room with my grandmother. Ignoring me won’t make me disappear.
Samuel joins them and they pour over the paper plans rolled out on the coffee table. I observe from the doorway I’m leaning against. Cleo has donned a mask to hide her emotions. It’s enough to fool most people, but not the Aldridges.
“Will there be adequate pressure for that new shower in the master bath?” Cleo asks from her position on her knees on the opposite side of the sofa. My brain feeds me images of a naked Cleo on her knees.Fuck.
Samuel’s head jerks to her. “Yes, because the system in this house is in the attic.”
“Did you include a new extractor fan? The old one stops working intermittently. I dismantled it and installed a new fuse, but it still chooses when to whirl to life.”
“Are you a plumber?” Samuel asks.
“Engineer,” she offers. Well, knock me down with a feather, a substantial truth from her lips.
