Page 72 of Little Sunshine
I eyed the front door.
What’d he say about four-wheelers?
Never mind. If I tried to ride one of those, I’d end up lost and crashed somewhere.
In the silence, I heard the faint sounds of a rumbling voice coming from the kitchen.
No.
Voices.
I followed them before freezing.
Ash moved around the kitchen, going into the fridge to gather a stack of containers and place them on the counter next to a cutting board and a big bowl. He started slicing strawberries as if he wasn’t in a pair of tailored slacks and a deep blue dress shirt. Even untucked, it was clear it was perfectly tailored for him, too.
A blonde woman stood next to him, her voice soft as she spoke while he worked. Her athleisure outfit was more casual than his clothes but no less coordinated. I couldn’t see her face until she looked to the side to grab her coffee mug.
Well…
Good for him.
And her.
Good for both of them.
I wondered if the lovely, lithe blonde was Vera, the provider of comfort food. Or maybe the mysterious Juliet. She would certainly be able to run far with those long legs.
Wanting to get away unseen, I took a slow step back. Unfortunately, my stealth skills left a lot to be desired, and two sets of eyes snapped to me.
I braced, expecting Ash to look guilty. Or maybe to treat me being there as no big deal because I was no one. I wasn’t sure which would be worse.
It didn’t matter, though, because I got neither.
A wide grin split Ash’s face, his dimples showing through his beard. It faltered after a moment, and his brows lowered as he set down the knife before approaching. He caught my chin between his crooked index finger and thumb, using his hold to tilt my face up like he’d done the day before.
And, like the day before, it made my brain turn to goo.
He dropped his face closer to me, and I barely held back a sharp inhale at his closeness. “What happened to your face?”
Wow.
Okay.
Fuck you, too.
Sure, my bruises had looked worse in the mirror, but I didn’t think it was that bad.
I raised my hand to my cheek self-consciously, though I wasn’t sure exactly what my plan was. Short of stocking up on Halloween masks, I didn’t have a lot of options.
“Your forehead is bleeding,” he continued.
“Oh. Yeah.” I touched it and pulled away to see another light smear of blood. “Sorry, I thought it was done.”
He smirked, but it didn’t look right. His hazel eyes held no humor, like it was as forced as his soft tone. “Stop apologizing.”
“Sorry.”
He used his hold and size to shift me backward to inspect the small cut under a light. I would’ve let him because my brain was still goo at his nearness, but with the movement, I caught sight of the blonde in my peripheral and was reminded we weren’t alone.
