Page 17 of Stoker's Serenity
The Instant Pot beeped and he straightened slightly, “Need to get that?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Ten more minutes.”
“Cool.”
He handed me back my book and I put it back in its place, taking up my tea.
“Your glass is on the table,” I said and he smiled, standing up and giving me space to do likewise.
We wandered over to the table and he picked up his glass taking a sip.
“Let me know if you don’t like it or if it needs more sugar or something,” I said.
“No, this is nice, actually. What is it?”
“Ginger and pear white tea.”
“Nice! It’s good, really good.”
“Thanks…”
6
Stoker…
She was beautiful, like, holy shit, unimaginably lovely. I don’t know what I was thinking but the memory of her from last Saturday night didn’t do her justice. She was simply gorgeous in the light of day, all woman with lush curves, the dress she wore hugging every line of her body ending in a flirty hemline at mid-thigh. I couldn’t get over it, but I really couldn’t get over how nervous she was, her posture unsure, her gaze fixed anywhere but on me as a light blush painted her cheeks.
She moved stiffly around her place and treated me like I was way out of her league even though I was pretty sure it was the exact opposite. I didn’t get it, like at all, but I wanted to figure her out so bad.
“So,” I asked, taking another sip of the spicy, fruity iced tea, “aside from letting your friends drag you to concerts with music you don’t necessarily like, what do you do for fun?”
She laughed a little and it transformed her into something otherworldly.
“I, um, I listen to music I do like, and I read, obviously… I like to make things, and fix things that are broken or unloved up into something useful again.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“I redid that chair and ottoman,” she said, gesturing to where she’d been sitting before.
“No shit?” I asked. “I never would have guessed. You did a good job, I thought it was store-bought.”
“Mm-mm.” She shook her head. “Two different yard sales and the fabric store. Same with my book cases and dresser. Old things refurbished, just like new.”
I looked around her place, and I meanreallylooked this time, and I had to say it was eclectic as hell, but it still all went together at the same time.
“Your place is nice,” I said. “Way nicer than mine. I should have you take a look at it and make some suggestions on interior decorating. Looks like a bachelor’s pad, for real.”
“I mean, that’s fair, isn’t it?” she asked. “You are a bachelor.”
“True, I guess.”
“I even built my own greenhouse out of reclaimed windows,” she said casually as she went to the fridge to bring out her pitcher of tea. I ambled on over for a refill and blinked in surprise at her words.
“That greenhouse out back by the stairs? You built that yourself?”
“Yeah, I really like cultivating orchids. I, um, I’m trying to –“She let out a shuddering breath and tried again, “If I trust you with something, I mean, show you something, would you promise not to tell on me?”
I set my glass aside on the counter and cocked my head. “Yeah, why would I narc you out?”
