What the hell is she going to do to me by day ten? Day thirty? Go skinny dipping in my pool?
I scrub my face with a towel, roll my neck, and head to the kitchen because she said she’d like to cook for me as a thank-you for welcoming her.
Which already has my blood pressure spiking all over again.
I step into the kitchen and stop dead.
“What the fuck,” I whisper.
Because somehow she’s managed to make my kitchen look like a Category 5 hurricane ran through it.
Flour on the counter, sauce splattered on the stove, pots bubbling over. Cutting boards, open spice jars, shredded basil, and olive oil smeared everywhere—and her in the middle of it all.
She’s barefoot, hair half-up, shorts way too short.
And my island is covered in sheets of paper.
She looks up the moment she notices me; her gaze lingers before she turns back to the pots, her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Dinner’s almost done,” she chirps.
I almost can’t form words.
“You done wrecking my kitchen?” I ask slowly.
She glances around as if she’s only now noticing the carnage. “It’s just a little mess. I’ll clean it up.”
“Most people clean as they go.” I step closer.
She whips around and plants both hands on her hips. “I only wanted to do something nice.”
She turns back to the stove, shifting her hips, stirring the sauce, her T-shirt riding up to show a hint of skin.
I close my eyes for a moment, willing my blood to stay where it is and not go south.
I step closer, bracing one hand on the island where paper is scattered everywhere. “What the hell are these?” I ask, picking up a sheet.
She turns; her face lights up. “They’re mine!” she practically bounces over. “I was working on them while the sauce cooks.”
“Yours?”
“My designs.” She sweeps her hand over them proudly. “Some sketches for what I want to make next. And a redesign for a suit.”
She holds one up like I’m a judge on Project Runway.
I take the paper and look. Her drawings are good. Really, really good.
“You drew these?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t trace them?”
“Trace?” she repeats. “No!”
“They’re nice,” I lie.
They’re not nice. They’re incredible.
