How could he not have known? Had they really spoken so little to each other they didn't know even basic family history? What a sad testimony to their short but intense time together.
"Charleston was our home base, sure, a place to rest when we stopped in to recoup and repack. If the mood struck, they hung out for a month or two to paint." She arranged a tiny sofa and chair around the miniature television, then sifted through the basket for yard furniture. "We usually spent about nine months out of the year traveling. There were gallery showings, guest lecturer stints, artists in residence for a semester at this college or that one. We were on the road a lot."
"What about school?"
He put aside his glass and focused on her, wrist propped on his crooked knee. His complete focus was heady stuff.
She wondered why she wanted to tell him now, needed to share a part of herself when she should be feeling more defensive than ever. Funny how a day of shopping and Gray's undivided attention could mellow a woman.
"Sometimes we relocated long enough for me to enroll for at least part of the year, other times the nanny home schooled me. I didn't lag behind." She placed the lawn furniture around a pool and little swing set. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. They loved me and made sure I had what I needed. They could have dumped me off on a relative, but they never did. It couldn't have been easy carting a kid and a nanny along. And it really was an educational way to grow up. I saw more, experienced more, lived more by ten than most folks do in a lifetime.";Right here is fine."
So she wanted to boot him out. Not a chance. With only a couple of weeks remaining until he left, he needed to make the most of every minute. "This sucker's heavy, Lori. I don't want to pick it up again. Just tell me where it's supposed to go, and I'll carry it the rest of the way."
She hesitated, then gestured for him to follow her. He dedicated his best effort not to watch her walk, instead focusing on her apartment, safer and wiser terrain.
The place unfolded before him exactly as he would have expected—elegant, eclectic, coordinated, but not a matched set to be found. Gleaming, heavy antiques and bold-patterned cushions were lightened by mismatched pottery and doilies.
A few new pieces had been added over the year. But that sofa. Yeah, he remembered her overstuffed striped couch well.
He did not need to be thinking about that sofa and the memories it held.
Lori shoved open a door to an airy room with ten-foot ceilings. "This will be hers. You can set the box in that corner."
She leaned back, gripping the doorknob. Their eyes collided as Gray slid past. He propped the box against a wall beside French doors opening to a balcony. Already he could imagine Magda soaking up all that light. "Is here okay?"
"Perfect. Thanks." Her brows pulled together as she studied the glassed doors. "Oh, I'll need to buy safety latches for those."
More shopping. Gray rubbed a thumb over his throbbing temple and tried to ignore the sleigh bed between Lori and him. She inched inside. The door creaked, moved, swung slowly closed. The small click echoed like a hatch slamming shut.
Lori flinched. "Old houses lean."
"Uh-huh." More likely the house was in league with Bronco to lock him up with Lori.
"Thanks for coming along." She swung two bags of clothes onto the bed.
"No problem."
"You were a great help." Hands moving in nervous activity, she folded the clothes into a little pile on the white lace spread.
"I can haul packages with the best of them." He couldn't drag his eyes from her as she performed the simple domestic chore. The bed loomed between them, threatening his control and his peace of mind, but Gray couldn't seem to shove one foot in front of the other while Lori smoothed a wrinkle from a tiny T-shirt.
"No, really." She slid the pink overalls onto a miniature hanger and hung them in an antique wardrobe. "Your advice over the Capri pants was invaluable."
Then why hadn't she taken it? He bit back the urge to argue.
Lori pivoted to face him. The mischievous gleam in her eyes set off klaxon warnings in his throbbing brain. Come to think of it, that same glimmer reminded him of when she'd asked him whether Magda would prefer sandals or clogs. Like he knew the difference.
Realization kicked him like the sucker he'd been all evening. She'd played him. "So were you testing me or trying to run me off?"
Lori's grin turned downright wicked. "What do you mean?"
"Clogs and Capri pants."
"Took you long enough to catch on."
"That's what I get for trying to be patient."
Her smile softened to something bittersweet. "I just don't understand what you're doing here, Gray. What do you hope to accomplish with this attentive boyfriend act?"