Before she could answer, her phone rang. She pulled it from her back pocket, and dismay spread over her delicate features. “It’s Leo. I’m not ready to talk to him right now.”
“Then don’t.” Why the hell was he calling her anyway? They were done, finished. “Send him a picture of the ring. He’ll get the message and leave you alone.” A harshness laced his words he hadn’t intended, and he left to get the cat’s stuff squared away.
When he returned, she was bent over the bed, smoothing the sheets, as though trying to sweep away every last wrinkle. She shot him a quick glance. “Are you okay with fettuccine carbonara for Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going to start on dinner when we’re done here, but I don’t have the ingredients or the time for a traditional Thanksgiving meal. Do you mind eating—”
“I’ll eat anything you make, but you don’t have to cook for me, Neve.”I didn’t even know she cooked!
She canted her head. “I know that, Reece. And I’m not only doing it for you. Cooking helps calm me down when I’m stressed out, so I’m also doing it for me. I simply wanted to know if I should prepare extra.”
They finished making the bed in silence, and he stole glances at the way she repeatedly straightened the linens, trying to line up the plaid patterns. When she got the lines as close as they’d go, she stood back and nodded.
OCD. Why did I not see that before?
He was learning all kinds of details about this woman, and oddly, he found each one more fascinating than the last. It was as if a giant door had been thrown open onto the world of Doctor Neve Embry.
His mind wandered back to the accident scene—had that been only a few hours ago?—and his admiration climbed higher still. She’d needed no urging when she’d abandoned any thought of her own safety to help a stranger. Sure, he had too, but he was hardwired for it now; she wasn’t. On top of that, without any formal training, she’d gone on instinct and done everything right. Maybe her experience as a vet contributed to how she’d taken charge, maybe not. Either way, he’d been blown away by her calm demeanor. Her courage. Her strength. Herheart.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be in the kitchen.” Pivoting, she left the room and him alone with his thoughts.
He closed the door, let the cat out, and stretched out on the bed. Mr. Whiskers wasted no time kneading his chest, and a rumbling purr soon followed.
“We’re having a sleepover, dude—just for one night. And unfortunately, it’s not that kind of sleepover.” What possessed him to throw in the last part, he hadn’t a clue. And weirdly, despite the devastation of the day, the smell of Neve’s flowery fragrance wafted through his brain, reminding him of how good she’d smelled when he’d woken up beside her mere hours ago.
Too bad that was as close as he would get, which bothered him more in this moment than the thought of being hitched to her. He couldn’t hold back the inconvenient regret that bloomed inside of him.
Chapter 16
Roommates
Reece drifted in acontented fog, vaguely aware of the warm, furry weight on his chest and its motorboat engine. His phone chimed with a text, rousing him from his nap, breaking the spell, and he rubbed his eyes and checked the device.
“Shit!”
Mr. Whiskers, clearly annoyed with the interruption, jumped from the bed and sauntered into the bathroom while Reece stared at the message on his phone.
Chelsea:How is your Thanksgiving?
He waited a few beats, pondering whether to answer. If he chose to ignore her, though, she’d keep pinging him, so he finally settled on a simpleNo.
Chelsea:Maybe you’d like to come over? I’ve got one of those rotisseriechickens.
She was out of her mind if she thought … He began thumbing a question about where the hell her husband was, but realizing she might interpret his snark the wrong way, he backspaced. He could tell her—again—that he wasn’t interested but instead opted for a noncommittalI’m busy.His phone vibrated. Tired, irritated, he answered with a curt, “Hello.”
“Who are you busy with?” Chelsea demanded.
“My wife,” he tossed back. Surprisingly, the words didn’t sound foreign or unpleasant in his mouth.
“Come again?”
Fully aware of the mistake he was making, he plowed ahead anyway. “I got married in Vegas last night. I’m spending Thanksgiving with her right now.”
She barked a mirthless laugh. “Not funny, Reece.”
“May not be funny, but it’s true.”
