“Feel free to knock on our door anytime,” Pris said. “We really appreciate it.”
“Do you have our cell phone number?” Dev asked.
“Let me take yours—”
“Oh, you can have mine,” Bailey jumped in with a smile. “In fact, if you’re up for one more cocktail, we can hang out a little longer. For some reason, I’m not as tired.”
He hesitated, but the charming smile appeared fast enough that she didn’t worry. “Of course. I need to check on Lucifer, so you can come to my place.”
“Great.” She sent a wave to her sisters. “See you guys in the morning. Hope you sleep well.”
“Yep, have fun,” Pris said.
When she glanced at Dev, she stiffened. Her sister shot her a disgusted look that made Bailey’s cheeks heat with shame. As she flicked her judging gaze back and forth between Hawke and Bailey, Dev’s words held a dripping venom she recognized well. “Yes, Bailey. After all, you deserve to have some fun, don’t you?”
It was the same tone Dev had used in the past few years. A tone that had been lacking over the past two days as they grew closer.
Guess she blew that.
Temper warred with the need to smooth things over in front of Hawke. She tossed her hair, spun on her heel, and grabbed his arm. “Thanks, see ya!”
He didn’t say anything as they walked next door. He opened the door and motioned her inside. Lucifer was meowing in welcome or annoyance—she wasn’t sure which—his tail twitching as he examined his new guest.
Hawke stroked his back and the cat seemed immediately calmer. “See, I told you I wouldn’t be gone long. You better not have marked any territory in here just because you’re pissed I actually had a social event.”
She reached out to pet the cat, but Lucifer jerked back and shot her a disgusted look—as if she was beneath him. Hawke sighed. “Sorry, he does that with everyone. Don’t take it personally.”
Bailey laughed. “I have thick skin. You need it if you’re going to perform.” Her gaze took in the sleek, simple design of his home. Like their cottage, it was an open concept, but his décor matched the outside. Navy blue and white accents livened up dark wood furniture. A few of the pieces seemed hand carved in a variety of mahogany, birchwood, and cedar. The kitchen boasted modern appliances, a giant farmhouse sink, and comfortable seating around a high countertop, painted in gorgeous Italian tile of a Tuscan landscape. A flight of stairs led to the second floor. She wondered how many bedrooms were tucked up there—this house was definitely bigger than theirs. “Your home is beautiful. It suits you.”
“Thank you. I’ve tried to make it comfortable and did some renovations. There are two bedrooms and my office upstairs.”
She tilted her head. “Thought you were in semiretirement, taking a break from the world?”
“I was. Am. Let’s just say, I’ve been toying with the idea of returning.”
“Why give this up?” she asked curiously. “You’re living the dream. Not caught in the awful rat race or social networks. The world’s not telling you who you are and who you should be.”
“Do you feel like that, Bailey? Trapped in the constraints of the world?”
Startled at the direct question, she hesitated. “Not really. I mean, I like to challenge assumptions of myself, but I feel the world has more good to give than bad. I wish there wasn’t so much pressure, though. To succeed. To get married. Have kids. Be someone.”
He walked into the kitchen. “I like your attitude, and I agree with you. It’s even harder when you’re young. Something about age makes things seem clearer. Wine? Espresso martini?”
“Wine, please. Red if you have it.” His comment burrowed under her skin. “You speak like you’re an old man. And I’m already thirty-two. Some people think I look like I’m twelve.”
He grinned, expertly uncorking a bottle and pouring a glass of ruby-red liquid. “I’m forty-two. A decade is sometimes a century. Want to sit in here or outside?”
Usually, she loved being outdoors, but something about the sleek couch looked inviting. “Here’s fine. Sometimes the bugs get at me.”
With an easy grace, he picked up both glasses and settled in the corner of the couch. He handed her the wine the same moment Lucifer jumped up on his lap. The cat dug in with his paws to make himself comfortable, then settled in. “Spoiled devil,” he muttered, but she noticed he petted the animal. He was a bit like Dev—direct without mincing words—but it was obvious he had a big heart.
He began to appeal to her even more, so she began testing boundaries between them to gauge his interest. Tucking her legs underneath her, she leaned forward to take her wine, allowing her neckline to gap open. She catalogued his odd reaction and surprise shot through her. His gaze glanced over her, taking note but revealing no reaction. He didn’t look embarrassed, but the distance remained firmly between them.
Interesting.
“I think age really isn’t a good indication of maturity,” she said, falling back into their conversation. “Experience and travel are more important factors. For instance, I’ve been in the creative arts since I was a teenager. I’ve met a number of dynamic people. Moved around a lot. Done theater. Even charity work.” Not wanting him to think she was bragging, she gave a self-conscious laugh. “My point is just to challenge your perception. Is a thirty-two-year-old who’s worked one job and never been in love more mature than me?”
She got caught up in the power of his deep gray eyes, but it wasn’t in a romantic or passionate sense. No, this was his genuine interest to get past any barriers and see who she was. Not so much a woman as a person.
At least, that’s how it felt. She was so used to experiencing it with physical attraction or a shared experience like working on the same play. Hawke was different.
“You’re so smart,” he murmured, his smile heartbreakingly gentle. “Have you been in love before, Bailey?”
Snapping back into herself, she recognized the statement as her opening. He needed her to make the first move; that was obvious. “I thought so, but now I realize I wasn’t. I think I’m more in love with the world than a person. With life experience. It’s like this rush comes over me and I want to steep myself in it, whether it’s Italy or a play, or a simple dinner with friends.” Her voice trembled slightly as she opened up to him. “Sometimes, I wonder if I feel things completely differently from everyone else. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I think we all wonder that at some time. The fact that you even question it shows you’re self-aware.”
“Have you been in love?”