He steps to the side, somehow knowing I’m once again looking at him through the peephole, and I see another man with him.
“Your address was on the paperwork you filled out for class, and we have a copy of your driver’s license, remember? This is Wren Nelson. He’s the IT specialist at Blackbridge.” The other guy smiles and waves, and I feel ridiculous watching this happen through a tiny hole in my door. “He brought everything you’ll need for a security system.”
Wren holds up a canvas bag as if he needs to show proof.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” There’s no way I’m letting these men in my house looking the way I do.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Quinten says. “We can come back another day.”
That sounds like an even worse idea.
I flip the deadbolts and tug open the door. My hand immediately goes to the chaotic mop on the top of my head. “I’ve been cleaning. I’m a mess.”
“You look beautiful,” he says before clamping his mouth closed.
His friend laughs, wheezing out a rush of air when Quinten elbows him in the stomach. “Nice to meet you, Hayden.”
“You as well. Come on in.” I stand to the side so they can enter. “I didn’t tell you about my problem with getting someone out here because I was hinting that I wanted you to do it.”
“He’s going to get started,” Quinten says, pointing to Wren.
“I brought eight cameras, but this size house may only need six. One on the inside and outside of the front and back doors, one in the kitchen, one in the living room and an external one covering the yard and the driveway. I also have one that’s a motion activated doorbell.”
“Cameras inside the house? What if I want—” I snap my mouth closed before asking if I want to walk around in just a t-shirt and my panties.
“Pretty standard, but it’s your house. Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it, but I can set it up to where no one has the ability to view your footage unless you give them permission through your home internet or on the app that you’ll have on your phone.”
“That’s fine,” I quickly agree.
“So six?”
“Sure,” I answer, my face already growing flushed with my near slipup.
I offer them both something to drink, but they decline. Wren gets to work at the back door first, and Quinten goes to stand in the living room, arms crossed over his chest as he watches the street out in front of the house.
I continue my cleaning, sticking close to the living room, of course, just in case Quinten wants to strike up a conversation. I swear I feel his eyes on me more than once while I’m dusting, but when I glance over, his eyes are still out the window. He looks so serious standing there like a sentry guarding my house, and those thoughts of hiring a bodyguard to stand outside my bedroom once again begin to infiltrate my thoughts, but only after an hour of standing there, he knocks, and I invite him in.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts, dropping the can of cleaning spray in the meantime.
“I’m hungry,” Wren says when he comes back into the living room. “Anyone else hungry? I ordered pizza, wings, and breadsticks.”
“Hard work putting in a security system?” I ask with a laugh. “I could’ve made you something to eat.”
“You are not cooking him a meal,” Quinten interjects.
“Is it against company policy?”
“Oh, we aren’t here for wor—”
“How many do you have left?” Quinten snaps. “I’m sure we’ve interrupted her plans. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner she can get back to her day.”
Wren laughs, shakes his head, and turns to leave the room.
I go back to cleaning with a smile on my face. Wren just all but confessed that they aren’t here in an official capacity, and that only leaves Quinten making this a personal matter. I can’t even describe the thrill I get from that knowledge. I’ll pay him of course, but I also feel a little giddy that he even wanted to see me again after yet another awkward wave goodbye.
I end up dusting the same spot more than once while Wren worked and Quinten perched near the front window.
The doorbell rings, but Wren gets it before I can grab my wallet to pay for the food.
“I was going to pay for that,” I complain when he walks in carrying three large boxes. “Man, you weren’t joking about being hungry. Can I get you two something to drink?”
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t pay. Quinten did.” The man in question frowns as Wren hands him the stack of boxes. “And I can’t stay. I just got a text, and I need to head home.”
“So the system—”