“Yep.”
“You should invite Greer over.”
And that’s the only thing my brain can focus on for the rest of the afternoon.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GREER
I hate to let good food go to waste.
I slip into Simon’s house, knowing he’ll be here any minute, and head straight for the kitchen. I’d made a buffalo chicken casserole that just needed to be put in the oven for half an hour. I turn the oven on and take the prepared dish out of the fridge. Just as I’m pulling back the Press ’n Seal, the door to the garage opens and Simon steps inside. His house isn’t small by any means, but right now, his kitchen feels smaller than a cubical.
“Hi,” I say quickly. “I was hoping to be gone before you got here.”
Just a little wishful thinking on my part that the oven would heat up faster than it’s ever warmed up ever before. I should have just taken the casserole to my house, but Simon pays me to cook, too, so that wouldn’t really work out.
Maybe I should have just left him a sticky note with instructions.
“Hi,” he says, moving into my space and setting his bag down on the counter. One thing I’ve noticed is that his computer bag goes wherever he goes. I appreciate his dedication to his career. I should definitely add that to my list of qualities in a man.
I point to the dish in front of me. “I prepped this earlier before I knew Grey was going with Calla and Beck for the night. I didn’t want it to go to waste.”
“So you were going to just put it in my oven and leave?”
I nod.
“What if I didn’t come home tonight?”
I pause. If he didn’t come home, where would he go? I never knew not coming home was an option for him.
“I would have set a timer on my phone. Like I said, I didn’t want it to go to waste. Plus, this is one of my favorite dishes. Trust me when I say, someone was going to be eating this tonight.”
He chuckles.
“A few weeks working for me, and you’ve just made yourself right at home in my kitchen.”
Among other places, but for obvious reasons, I don’t say that out loud.
However, the look he’s giving me says he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
I shrug, as if him standing right in front of me and reading my mind doesn’t faze me and give him a sweet smile. “You’ve got a cute kid. He makes me feel extremely welcome here.”
The grin on Simon’s face slowly fades. “I’m sorry about that. Grey shouldn’t be the only one making you feel that way. I enjoy having you around, Greer. I like that you move around this house as if it were your own.”
He stops speaking, but his mouth remains open, as if he wants to say more.
He chooses not to. The list of things he and I need to discuss is growing quickly.
I almost tell him that the hustle and bustle of his and Grey’s busy life feels much more my style, but I don’t say a word either. The reality is, I’m just here to help. This won’t be forever. If I mix feelings about last night and whatever we want to call the job I’m actually here for, it’ll be harder for me at the end of the summer when they don’t need me anymore. I don’t want this to be weird between us. Perhaps that’s the reason we don’t talk about all the things we should.
“Well, anyway,” I say, grabbing my purse off the table and backing toward the hallway to leave out the front, “once the oven goes off, just put the dish in for thirty minutes. Let it cool for another five before you eat it. There’s a cucumber and tomato salad ready in the fridge for your side.”
I give him a small wave, and just as I’m spinning on my toe, he says, “Why don’t you stay and eat with me?”
Two things happen at that moment. First, my heart rate increases, and second, confusion completely takes over my expression. Did Simon Stone willingly just invite me to hang out with him? Not because I’m friends with his sister or because his son begged him to ask me, but because he wants me to?
“Oh, I?—”
