Page 29 of Out of Sight

The bathroom was much of the same with one exception: a huge, round soaking tub. Damn. Maybe I’d get into taking baths if we stayed here long enough. I hadn’t had one since I was a child. My current apartment didn’t even have a tub, just a shower stall.

I opened up the cupboards and saw the basics: a couple cleaning supplies, backup toilet paper, and light blue towels that smelled clean enough. It would work. We didn’t need anything fancy.

It took me all of two minutes to unpack my clothes and toiletries; it’s not like Jim loaded us down with supplies, after all. I was pleased to see that at least he chose cute, in-season clothes for me.

I went out to the hall in time to see Will throwing his crap in the drawer of a dresser that looked remarkably like mine. Yup. Definitely bought in bulk.

“Let’s look for food, yeah?” he asked, seeing me looking in at him.

I nodded, moving slightly to the side so he could walk past me, but he gestured me forward. “Ladies with a good right hook first,” he smirked.

“You just want to check out my ass,” I joked, heading back down the stairs.

“Nah, that’s just a bonus,” he quipped back. I slapped at the back of his head when he caught up with me. He didn’t seem to mind, but I didn’t try to hit that hard anyway.

The kitchen was just like the rest of the house.

I could see basic appliances that were older models, but clean and seemed to be running fine. The counters and cabinets were a little outdated but in perfect condition. There were a couple skylights way up high above the kitchen island, mirrored along the thick wooden beam running across the vaulted ceiling, the second floor only covering half the house. Complementing that were the large picture windows facing out back into the forest that seemed to be everywhere here in Oregon. I loved the natural light, but worried over so much exposure to the outside world. The US government must’ve felt pretty darn confident in the US Marshal Service and their ability to throw off pursuers on the way to the safehouse.

I turned to the kitchen cabinets, trying to fulfill Will’s quest for food. They were fully stocked with supplies and nonperishables, but the fridge itself was empty. It was a start.

“Hey Jim!” I called out the open doorway. He appeared immediately.

“Quick and on the ball. I like it. Sexy,” Will winked at him.

“It’s still sexual harassment if it’s towards a man,” Jim teased back.

“Is it harassment if you like it, though?” Will asked, striking a pose and affecting a falsetto. “Paint me like one of your Bond girls, Jim.”

“Okay, enough boys,” I interrupted. I couldn’t stand mixing classic romantic films with classic womanizing ones. I had my limits. “We’re either going to need to go to the store or order in.”

“Or both,” Will helpfully chimed in.

“Tomorrow I’ll stock the fridge and get whatever else you think you’ll need for the next few weeks. Pizza for today.”

“Vegetarian,” I quipped. If I was going to pig out in front of them, I at least wanted to pretend everything was healthy.

“Then we really need two pizzas,” Will tried again, eyeing me out of the corner of his eye. “One with lots of meat for us manly men.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t take any real offense. I knew he was just trying to get a reaction out of me, so the best course of action was to not give him one.

“Two pizzas,” Jim agreed.

The pizza was delivered in about an hour, which was about an hour too long, in my opinion. I hadn’t eaten anything other than a couple bites of pastry since the room service last night, and that was verging on too long. My body always wanted to eat more and more, but it never went anywhere other than my ass. That didn’t stop me from trying to eat my way to better curves, however.

Surprisingly, Will continued to be a gentleman as we prepared our late lunch. He served me up first, bringing my plate to the table and even asking what I’d like to drink before ever plating up his own food. Then he even pulled my chair out for me to sit in.

“I know you’d prefer to be sitting on my face, but this is more comfortable when you’re the one doing the eating, gorgeous.”

Ah. There it was. “How can you be such a gentleman and an asshole at the same time?” I asked, words not accusing, but casual like this was just a normal conversation. He scooched my chair in as I sat, so I continued politely, “Thank you. Is it hard to go back and forth between your multiple personalities?”

“You’re welcome,” he responded, equally courteous, though his eyes were shining with delight. Jim was grinning at the show we put on as usual. “I only make it look easy because I practice it so much. But the misogyny is all an act. I actually have no confidence in myself and think you as a woman are much better than me at everything so I hide it all through bravado.”

He beamed at me as if he wasn’t confessing deep dark insecurities. Was it all a joke, or was be being serious?

“Plus,” he added, “we’re supposed to be siblings, right? Sarah and Daniel Robinson. This is how I treat—treated—my sister. She was always my favorite person, so I like acting the part. It’s familiar. Hey, do you have any brothers you can draw experience from?”

“Nope. It was just me and my dad for a long time.” I looked away, taking a big bite of my pizza. It was all cheesy-tomatoey-goodness. I knew I’d regret the calories later, but I took another huge bite before I even finished chewing my first one.

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