CEO Daddy (Crescent Cove 6.50) - Page 37
Wrong again.
Ringing the bell one last time, I rocked back on my feet. If she didn’t answer, I was leaving. Even I respected some boundaries.
Just as I was about to turn away, the inside door swung open.
Hannah appeared in the doorway, her brown hair flying out of its topknot thingy and falling across her face. Under one arm, she held a huge silver mixing bowl and a whisk.
“Oh.” Her throat visibly moved. “It’s you.”
Not the warmest welcome I’d ever received, that was for sure.
“Did I interrupt?” Knowing full well that I had.
She stared at me owlishly, then reached up to pull out one of her tiny earbuds. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. I try to get into the zone when I cook and these help.”
“Are you making dinner? My apologies.”
“Well, yes, but not for me, and not for today. I’m prepackaging meals for my clients. Do you want to come—”
“What clients? The ones you dog-sit for? What do you do, package up some doggy stew for them?”
“Hardly. Their owners handle their dietary needs just fine without me. Though, hmm, that’s an idea.” She moved to a side table, set down her mixing bowl, and tugged out a notepad from the drawer and scribbled on it with a stubby pencil.
A gust of wind from behind me nearly knocked me off my feet. She didn’t notice.
“Healthy stews and treats,” she mused. “Pre-portioned. That’s good. Cheaper price for higher quantities. I wonder if I should add cats too?”
I had not one clue what she meant. Obviously, my day at the expo had worn me out more than I’d realized. That gym visit obviously hadn’t been optional. My brain was sluggish.
“Listen, can I come in?” Before the wind blew me off the stoop.
I wasn’t certain she’d care.
“Sure, sure.” She gestured behind her and kept scribbling and muttering.
I stepped inside the wide, cheerful foyer and marveled at how tidy everything was. She was a capable homemaker. Unless…
“Do you live here alone?”
She turned to me with the pencil now stuck behind her ear and the mixing bowl back in her arms again. The notepad was tucked in the front pocket of her apron. “Yes.”
“All alone.”
“Yes,” she repeated.
I tucked my hands in my pockets and rocked back on my feet. “Hmm. Okay.”
“If you’re trying to ask if I can afford a place like this, the answer is no, not really. Which is why my schedule is fully booked. So, if you don’t mind if we chat while I continue my food prep, that would be awesome.”
She’d taken a step away when I reached out to cup her cheek. She halted, her big blue eyes widening so much it was almost comical. Until I saw her lower lip was trembling to match.
Was she afraid of me? Why?
“Flour on your cheek,” I said lightly, rubbing it away with my thumb.
“Oh. Thanks. Caught up.” She brushed the back of her hand over her cheek and hurried up the hallway, leaving me to follow.
The kitchen was huge and modern with all the latest appliances and plenty of workspace, which was good because she’d covered every surface with pots and pans and more gadgets than I could even identify.
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