Opaque Melodies (Coveting Delirium 1)

The possibility of me finding what I needed was slim to none. It was more likely for a man to discover my dirty truths and decide I had to have more than a tiny bottle of pills to help me. Not to mention gold-digging wasn’t one of my aspirations.

I dialed Chloe next, shooting her a text when she didn’t pick up. Checking the time and doing the math, she’d be at work right now. With no one else to talk to, I pushed myself up using one elbow, debating what I should do now.

I kinda wanted to curl up and sleep the next few days away but hiding out in Alaric’s guest room wasn’t feasible. I would have to deal with him sooner than later if I were to accomplish what I came here for.

Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror again, I decided I needed a shower before I went to find him. Rising from the bed, I carried myself across the room to the door Alaric had said led to a private bathroom.

He’d left out the details of it having a massive spa-tub with an unobstructed view of the ocean. Adjacent to that was a rain-forest shower, completely open concept. The bath beckoned to me, but I wasn’t up for soaking right then. I’d never want to get out once I got in.

I explored until I found a large closet full of plush, fresh towels and washcloths.

The first door I’d opened had revealed a toilet in its own private space.

On the bathroom counter, a basket loaded with bodywash, toothpaste, and lotions sat between the double sinks. As I selected one that was Cherry-blossom scented, I wondered if Meg had used this same brand. It was a trivial piece of information to know, but still more than I knew now.

Thinking about it, I had almost little to no personal details about who Meg was at all. She was essentially a stranger. I knew the the truth of our upbringing but disclosing that to someone would surely piss off the man who fathered me. He hadn’t spent years throwing hush money at his dirty deeds just for me to rip open the door that was preventing his skeletons from spilling out.

Depending on how much Alaric knew about his wife the truth could do him more harm than good.

Like Chloe had said, Meg was gone. All I could do was carry on, which meant spending these couple days trying to make amends for never being there for her, never taking the time to get to know who she was.

I showered quickly, slapping on some lip-gloss and mascara after I brushed out my hair. Back in the bedroom with the towel wrapped tight around my naked body, I dug through my suitcase in search of something comfy, but decent.

I decided on a pair of black jegging capris and a soft plaid button down, adding a tank-top beneath it. Not bothering with shoes, I left the illusion of safety behind and went to find my new brother-in-law.

It wasn’t too hard of a task. I simply followed the aroma of food. My stomach knew exactly where to go.

I located him in the kitchen that looked as if it’d come straight out of an HGTV magazine spread. He was standing in front of a flat-ranged stove.

“Feel better?” he asked without turning around, his sole focus on whatever it was he was stirring within a large metal pot. I wavered briefly, wondering how he knew I’d just entered the room when I hadn’t made a sound.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you hungry?” He stepped away from the stove and turned to face me. His eyes swept over my body from head to toe before settling on my face, a partial smile curving his lips. “I’m starving.”

Trying not to read too much into the way his gaze seemed to flicker to my mouth, I walked closer to the stove.

“What are you making?”

“Shrimp Fra Diavolo.”

“I have no idea what that is, but it smells amazing.”

“It tastes even better,” he remarked, sounding quite proud of himself.

“Do you need help with anything?”

“Can you chop the vegetables for the salad?”

“I think I can handle that,” I replied, offering him a genuine smile.

“I’ll leave it to you then.” He gestured to the center island where a cutting board, knife, and freshly washed veggies already sat.

Readily accepting the temporary distraction, I got to work while Alaric returned his attention to the pots on the burners.

The silence that descended between us was a welcome buffer. I had the social skills of a rock. I didn’t want to force an awkward conversation.

As I cut everything up and made neatly organized piles, my eyes wandered to a door to the right of the fridge. Had it been the same as the one on the other side of his kitchen I wouldn’t have been inclined to know what was behind it.