Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
He considered his answer for a long moment, and then didn’t give it to me. “Do you like people?”
“Like, am I outgoing?” I shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
“I mean, do you like being around people?”
I stared out the rain-splattered windshield and into the darkness of the night. “I like animals better, if I’m being honest. They’re less, I don’t know, complicated.”
“Yes.” He nodded.
Seduction slid into my voice. “But I like being around certain people.”
A short laugh punched from his lips. “If you’re in any way implying me, well—I’m about as complicated a person as you can get.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He nodded but didn’t explain.
The short drive ended as he swung the truck into his driveway, and as soon as we got back inside his house, we were focused on getting Noir squared away. After that, he walked me through the process of disarming his home security system, which was so advanced, I had to take notes on my phone.
And once we were done and Noir began exploring her new home, Clay rummaged around in a drawer in his study and extracted a key. He held it in his hand, and his gaze traced over the silver notches on one side. I understood his hesitation. This was a big step for him, and I wanted to do everything I could to make him feel comfortable with me—not just in his home, but as a person.
“You can ask me anything, you know.” My tone was playful. “I’ve heard communication is super important when you’re co-parenting.”
A smile twitched on his lips, and Clay’s fingers unfurled, holding the key out to me in the palm of his hand. “Okay. Can I ask how old you are?”
Instinctively, I straightened, trying to make myself look more mature. “Twenty-six. You?”
If my age surprised him, he didn’t show it. He simply nodded. “I’m thirty-five.”
It was a question I probably should have asked sooner. “Have you owned a pet before?
“Yeah. My mom had a cat when I was young. She was pretty—all-white—but she only liked my mom and merely tolerated the rest of us.”
“What was her name? Wait, let me guess. Snowball?”
“No, it was way more original than that. It was Kitty.”
“How creative.” I laughed lightly. “So, Noir will be your first pet since then?” When he nodded, I grinned. “Well, I’m glad I get to share her with you.”
Clay looked pleasantly surprised. “Me too.”
We lapsed into silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was warm and inviting.
When our shared moment was over, his gaze turned to the window, and he moved to pull an umbrella out of his entryway closet. “Can I walk you home?”
It wasn’t raining nearly as hard as when he’d dashed over to my place to ask for help, and as we walked together, fat raindrops pitter-pattered against the large black umbrella. I loved being under it because it gave me an excuse to linger close to him.
But when we reached my door, he announced he needed to pack for his work trip, thanked me for my help, and said good night before I could invite him in or make a move.
I was able to quickly temper my disappointment, though—he’d given me both his number and a key to his place, and I’d have ample opportunities over the next few weeks to learn what made him such a complicated man.
I went over every day the first week and got in the habit of texting him pictures of Noir. Sometimes I had to be quiet and sneak into the house to catch her curled up on a couch cushion in the sun. If I made too much noise, she’d run and hide at first. Like Clay, she was shy in the beginning, but warmed up quickly when she realized it was me.
I did my absolute best not to snoop through his house.
He’d said he was a private person, and I was determined to respect that. But— damn—I felt like one of the wives in the Bluebeard folktale every time I walked past the door to his basement. Was there a bloody chamber behind it, full of all his dead wives?
Why had he been so nervous when I’d mentioned going down there? My curiosity grew each day. At least he’d be back tomorrow, and when I stopped by to say hello to both him and our cat, I’d find a way to casually bring it up in conversation.
Except I didn’t get a chance. I was sitting on the rug in his living room, scratching Noir’s chin exactly the way she liked it when a loud bang came from below, startling both of us.
“What the fuck was that?” I demanded.
Noir looked at me with the same question in her eyes as she leapt to her feet, her body on high alert.
The bang had been loud enough it sounded like something heavy had crashed to the floor. I ran different ideas in my head, from a light fixture breaking to the water heater malfunctioning, and all of them warranted investigation.