Sophie appeared behind her. “Hey, how did it go last night? Still have a guest?”
“Of course.” He smiled. “She’s trapped, remember?”
Sophie laughed. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Speaking from experience, you could be enough to drive a woman to sleep outside in the rain.”
Maddie giggled, even though she hadn’t bothered to look up from her toys.
“Very funny, Smalls,” he said, knowing full well it would irritate her. “I made an omelet, coffee, and lasagna. I even had salad.”
Her brows shot up. She was obviously impressed, maybe even a little shocked, by this news, but leave it to his sister not to cut him any slack. “And today?”
“Another omelet for starters.” And why not? She’d enjoyed the first one, and it was really all he knew how to make aside from smiley-face pancakes. Maddie claimed his pancakes were the best she’d ever had, but to be fair, she was only four years old. Her pancake consumption was limited to whatever he or his sister made for her, and he was pretty sure he could top Sophie’s cooking with the frozen kind that are heated in the microwave.
The floorboards above the kitchen creaked. His guest was awake.
“Gotta run, Soph. Call you later.”
He’d no sooner flipped the omelet when Paige appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She was wearing the same clothes as the night before, which was surprising given the size of her suitcase. Then again, he thought, as he glanced down at the jeans he’d worn the last five days, who was he to talk?
“I was going to shower, but I didn’t see any towels.”
That would explain the repeated outfit. Because as much as Paige Parker struck him as the type never to wear the same clothes two days in a row, she also struck him as the type who wouldn’t put clean clothes on a dirty body. Women. Scratch that. Uptight women.
“There should be some in the wardrobe in the bedroom.”
“Cool, thanks. I’ll eat first if that’s okay.” She glanced at the plate of food sitting on the counter. “Don’t want it to get cold.”
“Sure, yeah, absolutely.”
Three ways of saying yes? Holy hell, forget college or high school, he was acting like he was back in seventh grade when his mom let him invite Mary Margaret O’Connell over to study. He’d hoped that was code for make out, but unfortunately for him, Miss A+ really just wanted to cram for the history test. He’d stuttered and stammered his way through the whole afternoon, which might have been one of the reasons for her utter lack of interest, and he was doing the same thing now. Only this time it wasn’t a potential middle-school girlfriend but an actual paying customer. Get it together, Croft.
He wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans and handed her the china plate. She took it from him, then hesitated. For a moment, he thought she might pull up one of the island stools and dine with him, but then she turned and headed out to the glass porch. Only problem was, Lucas wasn’t ready to let her go. It had been ages since he’d spent any quality time with a woman over the age of four. Except for his sister, which didn’t really count. Usually Lucas was just fine with peace and quiet. He seemed to have so little of it as the parent of a toddler. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he was so used to the nonstop chatter of a four-year-old that he forgot how to just enjoy the silence. Whatever the reason, he found himself actually wanting to make conversation with his houseguest. Go figure.
“Oh,” he said as he followed her out onto the porch, “and I should have told you this last night, but feel free to make yourself at home.”
She placed her plate on the small glass table and pulled out a chair. “I’m staying in your house,” she said on a delicate laugh. “Doesn’t get much more at home than that.”
“I mean if you need a drawer or something when you unpack. Unless you did already, which is totally cool.” Why did he sound so nervous? It wasn’t like he was offering a drawer to a semi-moved-in girlfriend or anything.
“A drawer?”
“In the bedroom. Or in the bathroom. Although I know you ladies like to spread out all those lotions.”
“Us ladies?” She flashed him a playful grin. “I know plenty of guys who use more products than I do.”
“Gay guys?” he asked.
“Not necessarily,” she said.
“All I’m trying to say is that it’s cool if you want to unpack. That’s all.”
“Thanks, but I wasn’t really planning to unpack.”
“Ready for a quick getaway?” No doubt that had been her plan. As soon as the call came, she’d be only one zipped bag away from a hasty exit. But that had been before “the truce.” Maybe a speedy exit wasn’t such a high priority anymore, which would be fine with him. She’d paid for the whole week. But more than that, much to his surprise, Lucas realized he wasn’t in a rush to see her leave.
She met his amused grin with one of her own. “Well, the harbormaster did say the service could resume any day. Plus, I’m not really one for spreading my stuff all over the room, especially not in a shared bathroom.”
A loud clap of thunder rattled the windows.
“That sounded close,” Paige said.
Lucas looked toward the charcoal horizon. “Maybe we should move into the main house.” It was a more of a statement than a suggestion. The sky was even darker than it had been the day before.
By silent agreement, the two of them turned toward the kitchen. But as they did, they heard what sounded like a muffled scream from behind the back door.
“What was that?” Paige asked.
Lucas had no idea. But before he’d had a chance to answer, there was another sound. This one was a loud thud.
Paige jumped. “This house wasn’t used for one of those Stephen King books, was it?”
He knew she was joking, but Lucas had to admit, at the moment it seemed like a legitimate question.
That was when the barking began. High-pitched, frantic yelps accompanied by claws scratching at the door.
“It’s a dog,” she said, opening the door before Lucas could stop her. Not that he didn’t love animals, but they had no idea what was waiting on the other side of that door. The animal could have been hurt or, worse, rabid. Either way, throwing the door open to invite Cujo in without at least first taking a look through the window wasn’t exactly the smartest move.
His fears were unwarranted because Paige had no sooner swung the door open when the rain-soaked dog barked and ran away. Odd. But then again, so was the fact that he was temporarily back in business. These days, nothing really should have surprised him.