Page 60 of With A Little Luck
He gets very close to my ear and goes on. “It’s not a bad thing to have the blanket blocking our view. Did you notice the room smelled heavily of Trigg when we came in?”
My nose wrinkles. “Maybe a little, but he came in when he told us the food was here.”
“Yeah, or he used the bathroom excuse to pop in and put cameras in the bedroom,” he murmurs close to my ear.
I frown.
That does sound like something Trigg would do.
“I’ll talk to him,” I whisper.
It’s hard for me to be upset with Trigg, maybe because of what he said about the soul match thing, but mainly because he reminds me a lot of my best friend when I was growing up. Johnny also had no filter and didn’t understand boundaries. He died in a car accident with his dad a week before our senior year.
It’s something I rarely talk about, but I trust Hart, and the words spill out as I tell him all about my childhood best friend.
“Shit,” Hart hisses. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It’s been a long time, but I hate thinking about it. Maybe that’s part of the reason I’m so forgiving of Trigg’s quirks.” I shrug, bringing my hand to run over my stomach.
The baby should be up any time, considering she likes to start bouncing around twenty minutes to an hour after I eat.
“There’s a big difference between not understanding social cues or being overly blunt versus breaking and entering with a side of stalking,” Hart says, his tone deathly serious.
“I’ll talk to him. I promise.”
“I highly doubt that will be enough, but I’m not trying to stress you out. We can revisit it again the next time he does something shitty.” Hart brushes his fingers over my cheek. “I’m sure it won’t take too long.”
I snort. “That was bad.”
“Nah, just realistic.”
Groaning, I roll over and remember I’m not at home. My bladder is uncomfortably full, and I need a bathroom trip likeright now. Doing my best to keep from waking Hart, I make my way out of the massive bed and into the bathroom.
I get back into the bedroom and glance between the bed and the door. Normally I bring a drink to bed with me, but since Hart and I came up with little planning, I didn’t think to grab one.
You could just drink from the sink…
I contemplate that idea for a few moments, but I don’t want to have to pop up again in five minutes to do the same thing. Sighing, I take off toward the door. The bedroom flooring isn’t bad because it’s carpet. The hallway is wood, though, and it’s cold against my feet.
This place is massive and confusing when I’m half asleep. Trigg showed us the back stairs earlier when he guided us down to eat, but I make a wrong turn and end up heading down the staircase that comes out near the front door.
It’s fine, this hallway will take me to the kitchen… I think.
Low murmuring comes from the living room, and I find myself tiptoeing in that direction. There’s another way to get to the kitchen if you go through it, so it’s not even like I’m going out of my way to snoop.
Damn.
Are you so forgiving of Trigg’s behavior because you’re terribly nosy too?
Maybe.
I kinda hope that’s Ridge’s voice, and that his company has left so we can finally have a moment to ourselves.
The archway that separates the entryway and the living room has to be ten or eleven feet tall. The tile lining the entryway is dark cream with swirls of gray, and it’s equally chilly under my feet. Maybe even more than the wood flooring was.
Peeking around the archway opening, my heart flutters.
Ridge is stretched out on the long end of the sectional with King on his chest. He’s busy scratching behind the dog’s ear. “What do you think, King?”
