Page 42 of Time Stops With You

I suck in a sharp breath as I watch her. Nardi’s beauty isn’t one I’d consider ‘quiet’. It’s piercing and ‘in your face’. Her lipstick, her dark eyes, her thick eyebrows—they command,demandattention.

There’s a reason the thuggish-looking man at the door had been trying, and failing, to ask her out.

But, when Nardi smiles, her beauty softens, melting like ice to become a sweet, gentle brook. Rather than unapproachable, she seems fairy-like and…

Holy crap. What am I thinking right now?

A low rumble rolls around the room and I check my pocket, wondering if my phone vibrated.

“That’s me.” Nardi sets a hand over her stomach sheepishly. “I haven’t eaten all day.”

“What about Josiah?”

“Josiah ate.”

“Is he sleeping already?” I ask, glancing past her to Josiah’s room. He must have heard our voices so it’s strange that he’s not coming out.

“Why do you want to know?” she says defensively.

I glance at Nardi. There’s mistrust in her eyes and she watches me intently, looking for… I don’t know. Some sign that I’m out to hurt her brother?

Seeing that expression sobers me and I realize she must have intentionally told Josiah to stay in his room. Nothing inside me flinches at the thought. I am, by all definitions, a stranger to them. Two days ago, I didn’t even know Nardi and Josiah existed.

I nod, choosing not to step over the boundaries she’s clearly setting.

“I can cook something,” I offer.

Her defensive stance drops. Her eyebrows twist and jump. “Youknow how to cook?”

“Probably not as good as you, but...” I shrug.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Five seconds ago, you were passing out on the staircase.”

I correct her. “It was just a short moment of vertigo. I feel better now.”

“You were about to fall backwards, tumble down all those stairs and give yourself a concussion.”

I open my mouth to argue when I see Nardi fighting back a smile. She’s teasing me, I realize.

“Would you rather I stay out of your kitchen?” I ask dryly.

“Go right ahead. I was too tired to do anything but boil noodles anyway.”

I move past the dining room table with three chairs and enter the shoe box of a kitchen. There’s an apron waiting on a hook and I slip that over my head. Inside the refrigerator are tons of ingredients, all fresh and neatly stacked.

Despite not having the latest appliances or cabinets, Nardi Davis keeps an impeccable kitchen. I keep being impressed by her.

Pleased, I reach for a bright yellow lemon. “Any allergies, I should know about?”

“Nope. My stomach’s made of steel.”

I smile with my face hidden in the fridge and then face her with a frown. “No stomach is made of steel. You should always watch what you put in your body.”

“You haven’t even made the meal yet. At least let me see if you have any cooking chops before you lecture me.”

With a chuckle, I return to foraging in the fridge and take out a block of Parmesan cheese, tomatoes, and heavy cream. A moment of inspection passes and I pop my head up again.

“Do you have thyme and basil?”

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