‘Uh huh.’
Yeah, Oliver had to admit, he was good. Textbook even. Which had been the whole point of him given he’d been the personification of the romance novelist heroine’s romantic fantasies.
‘Also, one of the best lines ever written. In my humble opinion.’
Oliver quirked an eyebrow. ‘“Bastards have brothers”?’
The fact he’d clearly stunned her by his almost encyclopaedic knowledge of film was evident. But it was that little flash of admiration that warmed him on the inside.
‘That’s the one.’
‘It’s good,’ he admitted.
‘Yeah.’
She nodded and they stared at each other in what very much felt like mutual admiration. Oliver wasn’t sure if it was over the movie line or over their synchronicity.
‘Anyway…’ She gave a little shake of her head, downed half of her mug then stood. On the ass of her jeans she had a big yellowdon’t worry, be happypatch and it was definitelythatshe caught him looking at moments later, not the way she filled out those jeans, her round ass cupped to perfection.
Paige Barker was all about the bass.
‘I’ll leave you to your script,’ she murmured, making no comment about where his gaze had been. Crossing to the cage, she picked it up. ‘Come on Pavarotti, let’s get out of here so Oliver can get back to his action-adventure stuff.’
Quirking an eyebrow, Oliver pointed at her. ‘You called him Pavarotti.’
She looked nonplussed for a moment before what she’d said registered. ‘Thanks to you the damn thing only answers to that now.’
Oliver laughed. ‘Sorry. Not sorry.’
‘Bunky is going to be well confused when I get his pet home,’ she said as she headed for the stairs.
Like a kid calledBunkywasn’t going to have name issues anyway…
‘Door open or closed?’ she asked at the foot of the stairs.
‘That depends. Have you finished committing crimes against music for the day?’
Shooting him a sarcastic smile, she said, ‘Yes.’
‘In that case you can leave it open.’
Oliver couldn’t explain how veryniceit had been hearing someone moving around the house these past days. Even the sound of Paige – a friend of the woman he’d jilted at the aisle – stomping up the stairs now made him feel less… alone. He hadn’t really realised how dark and quiet the house was and how isolated he’d been these past months.
It hadn’t been uncommon for him not to see or hear another soul for days at a time apart from maybe the occasional muffled voices that came from the beach. Not that there’d been much of those either lately given the shitty January weather. But he didn’t need to see a shrink to know that rattling around in a house by oneself and barely getting out wasn’t good for his mental health.
No wonder he hadn’t been able to see the wood for the trees with the script.
It hadn’t been his intention to become a recluse. But the initial tabloid interest had driven him indoors and the winter weather had added extra incentive to stay there. Since having his house guest here, however, he’d started to realise being barricaded inside had been a bit of a safety blanket for him and how even something like cleaning up after hurricane Paige had turned a light on – metaphorically speaking.
Which had to be beneficial, right?
Even if she did remind him of key lime pie and how very much he’d screwed things up with Bella. He felt for sure the universe was probably having a laugh at his expense but if this was his penance then maybe some good could come out of it for him too.
Despite the chaos and the mess and waking every morning to a degree of trepidation over what the day would bring.
Turning back to his laptop, Oliver straightened the remote control before returning his attention to that damn blinking cursor again. Zac was about to blow up a fuel depot but maybe what he needed was a love interest? Somebody to highlight his soft underbelly. Oliver paused and frowned for a bit. Hmmm. He tapped out a note.
Give Zac soft underbelly.
