She made a pained sound but slid to the side of the bed. That was a start at least. He was less encouraged when she padded—naked—to one of the tiny cabinets near her stove, pulled out a box, and held it out to him.
“What’s that?”
“Cereal. Don’t eat all the marshmallows.” She waited for him to take the box and then shuffled toward her bathroom.
Cereal? He didn’t recall having it before. Quaint. Normally his breakfasts were toast, eggs, orange juice, and various meats depending on the country he was in. A bowl of dry, sweet marshmallows was odd, but he was in America now, after all. He ate a handful of the cereal, avoiding the marshmallows as she started the shower.
A moment later, a muffled scream erupted, and he winced as the water immediately went off again and she emerged out of the bathroom a moment later. “You used all the hot water?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t realize there was so little. You should really fix that.”
She stared at him, her hair dripping. “I live in an apartment building with hundreds of other people. I don’t get a say in how much hot water there is.”
“Ah.” He ate another bite of cereal and then shrugged. “Since you’re awake, shall we go jogging?”
Taylor wiped a wet lock of hair from her face, hugging a towel to her body. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty to look at, or I’d kill you right about now.”
He grinned. “I suspect you’re not a morning person.”
She bared her teeth at him. “And you want me to jog?”
Loch shrugged. “I always jog in the morning. It’s refreshing.” He set down the box of cereal because it was rather tasteless and didn’t strike him as particularly filling. “Speaking of, we should get going.”
“I’m trying really hard not to frown at you. How can a man as cute as you are be so obnoxious in the morning? Now I see why you’re single.”
He couldn’t help it; he laughed. “All right, I guess you don’t have to go jogging with me.”
“Now you’re talking sense.” She dropped the towel and started to crawl back into bed.
It was hard not to admire the sexy figure she painted as she moved on all fours back into the bed. He contemplated joining her, but he suspected she was just going to sleep, and he was wide-awake. A night of really good sex always invigorated him. He rubbed his neck, considering. “You go back to sleep, then, and I’ll go jogging.”
She gave him a sleepy thumbs-up.
“Where would I find jogging clothes?”
One eye cracked open. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“How is it you don’t know where jogging clothes would be?”
He shrugged. “I open my closet and there they are.”
“Who . . . who fills your closet?”
“My valet?”
“Where’s he?”
“Back home. His wife was expecting a child and he couldn’t join me on my trip.” Plus, he didn’t know how long he’d be in the United States, and it’d have been unfair to him to keep the man away from his family for so long.
“For a hot guy, you are weirdly helpless. I have a couple of guy shirts but no pants, sorry. You’ll have to go back to your place for that.”
“Mmm.” The thought of going back to his empty hotel room was extremely unappealing. It felt a lot like exile—he was alone, bored, and strangely forgotten. It wasn’t a good feeling, especially for him. He’d spent all his life adored and celebrated by family and friends, and the locals in Bellissime loved him. He was always surrounded by people.
Being alone? It felt a bit like torture.
Taylor rubbed her eyes. “I guess you could go buy some jogging clothes. There’s a store around the corner, though I don’t know if it’s open this early. How much do you want to spend?”
He shrugged. “I don’t normally purchase my own clothes. What would you recommend?”
She snorted. “That you stop letting other people control your life?”
“They’re helping me.”
“If you say so.” She gave her pillows one last sad look, then slid to the edge of the bed. “I’ll go with you to grab breakfast if you want, but no jogging.”
“I’ll wear you down eventually,” he teased.
***
An hour later, they were down at a tiny coffee shop near Taylor’s place. The neighborhood itself was a bit rundown for his tastes, and he’d seen a homeless man on the street, which had shocked him. Such things didn’t exist in Bellissime, nor did people just walk past as if they didn’t exist. Taylor had tucked a few dollars into the man’s cup but hadn’t stopped. No one did.
It felt oddly wrong, but he didn’t know what to do about it. He still didn’t, even as he finished off his toast and drank his coffee. Taylor had eaten nothing but a bowl of cereal and was now sipping her own coffee and doing her best to avoid eye contact with him.
“Something wrong?” he asked, because she seemed uncomfortable. Was she as upset about the homeless man outside as he was?
She toyed with her mug. “This is more complicated than I thought. You’re really hot and all, Loch, and last night was fantastic, but . . .” She paused and gave him a soulful look. “I’m not looking for a relationship right now. My life’s a little complicated.”
Was that what she was worried about? “I’m not looking for a relationship, either, actually.”
Her face brightened. “Oh good. I was worried that ‘going jogging’ was some sort of euphemism I wasn’t grasping.”
He laughed again. That was the great thing about Taylor. She always made him laugh, no matter his thoughts. “No, I just enjoy staying active. And I’m bored most days.”
“I’m not,” she said bluntly, then put her coffee cup down. “And you were great. Really great. But I do mean it when I say my life is complicated.” A sad look flashed in her eyes. “If it wasn’t such a mess, I’d be chasing your hot ass like there was no tomorrow. Hell, I’d even go jogging if it meant more sex. But my job is a strain right now, and I have a lot more going on than I’d like, so I need to get back and go to work before I get written up again.”
He didn’t know what that meant, but judging from the expression on her face, it wasn’t good. “Is there anything I can help with? I’ve got a lot of time on my hands.”
“What, exactly, can you do with a computer?”