Savannah balanced the fresh-baked apple pie in one hand, tightened her hold on the handle of her oversize shopping bag, and knocked on Beau’s door. He answered almost immediately, unreasonably handsome in an off-white fisherman’s sweater with the sleeves shoved up. Dark blue cords completed the ensemble.
“You’re early.” His slow smile sent all sorts of suggestions to her erogenous zones about how they could pass the extra time. “I forgive you, because that pie looks amazing.”
“Apple. I baked it this morning, in honor of my future in-laws’ visit. I figured we could come back here after dinner for dessert and coffee.”
“You’re making me look good.” Then he took in the bag, and his smile faltered. “What’s this?”
“Your parents will be here in less than an hour, and they’re going to expect an apartment full of commingled stuff.” She handed him the pie, hefted the bag, and told her sex drive to settle down. “Prepare to commingle.”
He eyed the tote like it contained a live hornet’s nest. “That’s a big-ass bag. You sure you’re leaving any room for me in this mingle?”
“Relax. I only selected essentials. Everything I brought serves a particular function in making this engagement look real.”
She walked to the kitchen and put the bag on the counter. He followed, placed the pie on the stove, and hovered as she took out a matching set of red-and-white hand towels decorated with snowflakes, folded them, and draped them over the handle to the freezer portion of his refrigerator. She Frisbee’d a matching pot holder onto the counter next to the stove.
“Turning my kitchen into a Bed Bath & Beyond is essential?”
“Consider this the bare minimum. I only wish I had time for curtains.”
She opened the fridge and placed a six-pack of diet soda, a bottle of chardonnay, and four Greek yogurts inside.
“Um, thanks, but I’m not a big yogurt and soda guy—”
“Of course you’re not. I am. When your mom or dad digs around in your fridge for water or whatever, they’ll see it’s stocked for two.”
She brushed past him, scooped the bag off the counter, and headed to the living area. Once there, she paused to put an e-reader in a hot-pink protective case on the end table, and a couple of bridal magazines on the coffee table next to her glass sculpture.
He picked up the magazines and handed them back to her. “Now you’re just cluttering up the place.”
She took them and returned them to the coffee table. “I’m setting a scene. All these things say, Hey. I hang out here. You don’t want your parents to think I just come over, have sex, and leave, do you?”
“Maybe we hang out at your place, so you don’t have to drag all your cra…stuff over here?”
“We hang out at your place. Your parents have already seen my bedroom, so they’re going to know we use yours.”
“Then they know more than I know.”
Men. She took him by the hand, led him to the bedroom, and gestured. “What do you see?”
“My bedroom.”
“Dominated by what?”
Now he frowned. “My bed?”
“Exactly. Your big, roomy California king. I have a standard queen. You’re what, six three? Tell me, Beau, which bed do we use?”
“Mine.”
“Damn right we do.” She reached into her bag, pulled out a red silk nightie, and chucked it at the head of the bed. It spilled across the white pillowcases. Satisfied with the effect, she headed into the adjoining bathroom and began unloading the last remaining items in her bag. She placed a toothbrush in the glass holder next to Beau’s, lined up her face cleanser, moisturizer, and perfume on the counter, and then placed shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and a razor in the metal caddy hanging from the showerhead. When she opened the medicine cabinet, she caught a glimpse of Beau’s face in the reflection.
Her disk of birth control pills fit perfectly on the narrow shelf, between a bottle of Visine and a box of Band-Aids.
“Savannah, they’re not going to search the place in the time it takes to have a drink and then head out for an early dinner. Ditto for pie and coffee afterwards. They’ll be here an hour, tops.”
She shut the cabinet and faced him in the mirror. “Moms are nosy. Trust me, Cheryl checks your medicine cabinet every time she visits.”
He reached past her, opened the cabinet, and grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen. In the time it took her to turn around he dry-swallowed two. “Headache?”