Page 37 of Thornhill Road

“Food. Sooner you let me inside, sooner it’ll be edible, sooner we get you to bed.”

Bed. I’d been thinking about my bed for hours now.

Tired as I was, all of a sudden, it wasn’t sleep I was thinking about.

Still, I hesitated. I hadn’t been expecting a guest when I left for my nightshift the day before.

“Um—I can’t remember the state in which I left my place, so—”

“Tess? Sooner you let me inside, sooner food’ll be edible, sooner we get you to bed. Inside, baby.”

Excitement rippled through me as I murmured, “Right. Okay,” then turned to head inside.

The door to my garage was located kitty-corner to my front door, both at the bottom of my staircase. When I walked inside, I hung my purse on the wooden bulb at the end of its railing, like I always did, then took a right through my narrow living room to my kitchen.

Even though the two rooms were pretty much adjoined, the previous owners tried to make a distinction between them by painting the living room a soft yellow while the kitchen was mint. It wasn’t exactly my style, so my furniture didn’t match. Needless to say, painting was another thing I hadn’t gotten around to yet.

Though, I didn’t concern myself with my home décor issues as I tried to keep ahead of Mustang enough to pick up or hide anything I may have left out that was potentially embarrassing.

Fortunately, I found nothing. At least, not on the first floor.

I stood at the mouth of my kitchen, beside my round table with the cozy, cushioned, wicker back chairs. Mustang breezed right by me, setting the groceries on the counter by the sink before hooking his sunglasses in the collar of his shirt.

“Point me to your spices and I need a skillet,” he said as he went to wash his hands. “Anything else, I’ll root around until I find it. You can hop in the shower or whatever you do to unwind while I work. Thirty minutes tops.”

“Spices are in the cabinet to the left of the stove, and the skillet is to the bottom right.”

He dried his hands with a couple paper towels, then I watched as he went for the spices first, hunting for the ones he was after and plucking them out when he found them.

To say it felt surreal to see Mustang at work in my kitchen would have been a massive understatement. It felt odd to just leave him there. I wasn’t sure if I couldunwindwhile he was busy cooking with my skillet on my stove. It all seemed backwards. So, I just stood there—staring.

When Mustang noticed, he stopped what he was doing and gave me his pretty, hazel-blue eyes as he assured me, “Tess, I got this.”

Unsure what to say, but somehow certain he wasn’t going to continue his task until I left him to it, I turned on my heel and headed for the stairs. Remembering my phone needed a charge, I dug it out of my purse along the way, then hooked a left when I reached the second level and hurried for my bedroom.

I hadn’t made my bed, and my dirty clothes hamper was overflowing out of my closet. I did what I could to straighten up, then rifled through my dresser for something to wear post-shower.

I debated with myself about whether or not there was any point in putting on underwear—especially considering I was so clearly behind on laundry—and came to a swift conclusion. Iplucked a pair of cotton shorts and an oversized tee out of a drawer, then left my some-what tidy room to take a shower.

Even though I skipped washing my hair, I was under the water for a solid fifteen minutes. I hadn’t shaved in days, and I didn’t want Mustang to know that. Once I was dried and dressed, I let my hair down and ran a brush through it a few times. Glancing at my reflection, I noted I’d habitually washed my face in the shower, which left me with no makeup. Deciding makeup was just as pointless as underwear, I abandoned my reflection in order to return to the kitchen.

The smell of food hit me halfway down the stairs, and my stomach growled.

It smelled good.

I took one step onto the linoleum, and Mustang asked, “You like cheese on your burger?”

He’d made hamburgers. Yum.

“Yes.”

“Sit, baby.”

I pulled out a chair and did what I was told.

Not five minutes later, I had a plate with a cheeseburger and potato chips in front of me. He’d even brought over ketchup, mustard, and mayo so I could dress my bun the way I liked.

I was a bit beside myself.

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