Page 32 of Lovingly Restored

“Yep. I can make anyone look fantastic. I could do you next.”

I suppress an eye roll.

Chris clears his throat. “I’m more of a barber guy. But, are you saying I don’t look fantastic now?”

“Dirty tradesman aren’t my type.” Anna shrugs, a grin tugging at her upper lip.

Isaac laughs. “We’re in the wrong house, man. We need to go somewhere where we’re appreciated.”

Mildly wounded, Chris appeals to me, “Don’t I look fantastic, Ashlyn?”

“Yes, so gorgeous, Prince Christopher.” I place a hand by my mouth and fake whisper to Anna, “He’s terribly insecure, needs his ego stroked constantly.”

I place Mrs. Lauri’s cooled soup on the table, so she can stay on schedule.

“Help yourself, by the way, Chris,” I call over my shoulder.

Chris looks slightly apologetic as he fills a bowl to the brim.

Anna’s shaking out the black cape and sweeping up the silvery strands of hair into a neat pile. When she looks up at me again, there’s a gleam in her eye.

Oh, no.

“Isaac, what do you think of Ashlyn’s hair?”

Isaac’s soup has a big dent in it despite the steaming contents. He abandons his supper and leans against the counter, arms folded, head tipped to one side in appraisal. Self-conscious beneath his gaze, my cheeks warm, and I tuck my new layers behind my ears. Silence dominates the kitchen, except for the occasional clink of Mummo’s spoon against her bowl. Isaac saunters toward me, reaching down to untuck the strands of hair from behind my ears. Grasping a section between his fingers, he slides them down, right to the freshly trimmed tips until they fall from his thumb and forefinger and tickle the side of my face. The last time he touched me in this kitchen I smacked his hand away. Now? Stopping him is the last thing on my mind.

“It’s beautiful, too.” His voice is a low vibration.

Maybe I won’t go out tonight. I’ll just…stay in. Lay myself naked on his bed and see what happens. No. I shake myself from my stupor, sneak around him, and pull a bowl down from the cupboard to serve my own meal. Mrs. Lauri has an empty seat next to her, so I take it, hoping she can protect me from his intensity.

“Soup’s delicious, babe.” He finishes his with a noisy slurp, foregoing his utensil.

Chris and Anna look at each other. “Babe?” they both mouth.

Isaac’s tongue darts out to devour one last drop. I shove my spoon in my mouth, forgetting to blow on the thick soup. I hiss, letting some heat out of my mouth. It’s a poignant reminder that if I’m not more guarded, I might be the one who gets burned.

Grabbing this dress from my apartment earlier seemed silly, but the little black thing oozes sex appeal, and I’m glad I did. The form fitting silhouette hugs my curves, ending a few inches above the knee. It’s sexy enough when I’m standing still, but when I walk, a six-inch slit appears up my right thigh. I slip on a leather jacket, filling a jade-coloured clutch with the front door key, my cell, cash, ID, and my lipstick. I stare down the drugstore bag that contains an unopened package of condoms. Isaac’s comment in the workshop still rankles. If he thinks I’m too serious and straight laced to enjoy no strings attached sex as a full-grown woman, he’swrong.I rip open the box, taking a condom from the strip and shoving it next to my lipstick. Nowthat’sthe purse of a woman ready to have a night of fun.

Heels clicking along the hardwood, I make my way to the living room where Anna, Isaac, and Chris sit chatting. Heads turn in my direction when I enter. The look on Isaac’s face, iron tight jaw and narrowed gaze, is intense.

What the hell is he thinking?

Crossing the threshold into the room, the toe of my shoe catches. I stumble, recovering by sheer luck, but my clutch slips from my hand. The magnetic closure pops open as it lands on the carpet, the contents spilling haphazardly at Isaac’s feet.

“Happens to me all the time,” Anna says.

I appreciate her attempt to save me from embarrassment, but I’m already bright red. House slippers are more my speed these days. Isaac spreads his thighs, leaning forward from his reclined position to collect my things, his fingertips pausing millimetres above a shining foil packet.

Shit.

Tension radiates off him. His shoulders look tight, and while his head remains down, he glances up at me. “Just one?” He raises a thick eyebrow.

“That’s all it takes,” I say with all the bravado I can muster.

He bites his lip like he’s holding back.

“If you two are finished staring at each other, the cab is here,” Anna says.

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