Kit’s smirk bloomed. “That’s right, reporter boy. You’ve been spiritually bested by a tart.”
“It’s really good,” he said, still chewing.
“I know.” She leaned a hip against the counter. “Krista and I are working on a summer collab at the Hideaway. I supply the dessert, she supplies the cocktail. And you’re perfect for testing it—because I know you won’t lie.”
“You got me there,” Joe agreed.
“So…” Kit wasted no time changing the subject. “Whatcha think about Krista? She’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?”
He almost inhaled the tart. “Geez.” He coughed. “You don’t mind putting a man on the spot, do you?”
“Not even a little.” She crossed her arms. “Now spill. You two finish hooking up last night? Because that girl works herself into the ground. If she’s not at the Hideaway, she’s at her grandparents’. The woman hasn’t had proper fun since—actually, never. She could really do with a good time.”
Joe lifted a brow. “I’ll take that under advisement.”
“You do that.” She slid another tart in front of him like she was dealing poker. “Eat. I need honest feedback.”
Frankie barked once in agreement. Joe didn’t argue, and continued his tart while Kit topped off his coffee.
“Thank you,” he said between bites. Joe had to admit this was nice, and different from what he was used to. Being on the road meant he often cooked meals on his own in various Airbnbs or youth hostels, or dining alone in little places. He enjoyed his own company, but there was something comforting about eating with a friend in their home.
After they finished eating, Kit started bustling around the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. “Why don’t you toss your stuff in Krista’s room?” she said over her shoulder. “Third door on the left.”
Joe grabbed his backpack and camera bag and headed down the hall. Frankie trotted behind him, his little nails clicking on the hardwood. He stepped into her room and froze.
Krista’s bedroom looked like a boutique hotel suite designed by someone who not only cared about comfort…but worshipped it. How in the world would she cope in his tent?
His eyes were drawn to the thick, cloudlike white comforter spilling over the bed. Pillows—dozens of them—layered in whites, golds, and soft pinks accented it. Smooth, expensive-looking sheets peeked from beneath the comforter. And her scent—warm vanilla. A hint of citrus. Something soft and feminine that wrapped around him like a memory.
Joe swallowed hard. This was where she slept. Where she dreamed. Where she woke this morning before heading out to meet him in the woods. And tonight she would basically be sleeping on the ground. If he was honest, he felt a bit guilty.
He set his backpack on the small bench at the foot of the bed, then placed his camera gear carefully on the dresser. But his gaze kept drifting back to the bed—the pillows, the softness,the whole intimate world that was hers. His pulse thudded in his throat. How was he supposed to stay here for a week without losing his mind?
Letting out a slow breath, he forced himself to step back. Work. Focus. Mystery. Diary. Anything but imagining Krista tangled in these sheets. He left the room before his imagination got him into real trouble. Frankie followed, prancing down the hallway as if he were a king.
When Joe returned to the kitchen, Kit tossed him a dish towel. “Good. You’re back. And you brought your shadow.”
They were halfway through cleaning when the front door opened.
“Oh, Kit, what have you been up to?” Krista asked, stepping inside, cheeks pink from the morning chill. “It smells incredible in here.”
Frankie immediately abandoned Joe to launch himself at Krista, barking like he was announcing royalty. Once his greeting duties were complete, he ditched her without hesitation…and trotted right back to Joe.
Krista stared at the dog, then at Joe. “Okay, seriously. What did you do to my dog? He never chooses people this fast.”
Joe shrugged, dish cloth in hand. “What can I say? I’m magnetic.”
Krista rolled her eyes but smiled, and it landed somewhere warm in Joe’s chest.
“I see Kit’s already put you to work, too,” she said, pointing at the cloth.
Before he could speak, Kit piped in, “See? He’s domesticated. I told you he’d make a good roommate.”
Joe shook his head, though a smile tugged at his mouth. Ridiculously happy to see Krista again, even if they’d been together barely an hour ago.
“The campsite up to your expectations?” he asked.
“I already miss my bed,” Krista said with a groan.
