“I like doing projects.”
“I know, but…” I focused on Biscuit, forcing out the words. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”
The corner of Frasier’s mouth twitched. “Maybe I want you to use me.”
Had I imagined it, or was there a suggestive undercurrent to his tone? Either way, his words and the way in which he’d said them had flooded my mind with lascivious images of all the ways I couldusehim.
But when I glanced up at him, I quickly dismissed the idea. Frasier was just being Frasier. It was playful banter, nothing more. Just like our tussle on the floor was playful, nothing more.Right?
“I just…”I think I’m going crazy.“I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you or that this relationship is one-sided.”
“Bryn.” He looked at me, his eyes piercing mine. “Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you every time you make me a home-cooked meal?”
I frowned. “No. Of course not.”
I enjoyed cooking, and it was more fun to cook for someone rather than just myself. After Derek’s death, there’d been a stretch of time where neither food nor cooking sounded appetizing. It was easier now, but it wasn’t the same. Food had become something that I ate because I had to, not because I wanted to.
I wasn’t motivated to cook for myself, but I was happy to cook for Frasier. It made me feel useful, good, especially since I followed the meal plans from the team’s nutritionist, Maggie. And in doing so, I fueled my body with healthy, nutritious meals.
“What about when you keep the dogs or take them to the vet?”
Was he kidding? I loved Biscuit and Bacon. I loved spending time with them, caring for them. I’d been skeptical when Frasier had first proposed the arrangement, but it had worked out great.
“I like doing that. I’m happy to do that.” More than happy. I loved Bacon and Biscuit; they made me feel loved and accepted and seen.
“Then trust that I like doing this for you. ’Kay?” He held my gaze, until I nodded.
“Okay,” I said, though I still felt like he was a better friend than I was. Or maybe I just felt guilty about the fact that I’d conned him into attending my sister’s destination wedding with me under false pretenses.
Tell him!
I can’t tell him,I argued with myself.
I already had no idea how I was going to repay Frasier. Yes, he’d offered to go. And a free vacation to Anguilla wasn’t exactly a hardship, but he didn’t get much downtime. And he was giving up some of his very rare free time to do this for me.
He might be happy to accompany me to my sister’s wedding, but he’d offered to go as my plus-one, not my fake boyfriend.
I sighed. I didn’t think Frasier would be upset about what I’d done, but it was embarrassing. Not the idea of dating Frasier—anyone would be lucky to have a man like him in their life. But the fact that my sister’s comments had gotten under my skin to the point that I’d responded in such a juvenile way.
I was acting like I was in middle school. Like the time Jimmy Randall had teased me about my breasts being the size of mosquito bites. I’d been so mad and mortified, and I’d shot back that my boyfriend in Canada liked them just fine. And then, like now, I hadn’t had a boyfriend.
I sighed. I was secretly hoping no one—besides Allie, of course—would ever find out that Frasier and I were “dating.” Maybe that was wishful thinking, but I was rolling with it—for now.
“Want some help?” I asked Frasier, needing to dispel some of my nervous energy.
“No, but I’d love some company. Unless you have things you need to do.”
I shook my head. I was almost done packing. Most of the stuff I had left were things that I couldn’t pack until the day of. So, I sank down on the floor into a cross-legged position. Bacon and Biscuit settled down, one on either side of me.
I stroked Biscuit’s fur as a sense of peace and contentment washed over me. This was my happy place—relaxing at home with Frasier and our fur babies. We’d gone to the shelter to find a four-legged friend, and we’d ended up with two.
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” I asked.
“Whatever’s easiest for you. I’m sure you don’t have a ton of groceries since we’re about to go out of town.”
“Actually, Maggie sent me a new recipe I can’t wait to try. And I already have almost everything we need.”
“Sounds good to me,” Frasier said. “You know I’m not picky, and I always appreciate your home-cooked meals.”
