Page 18 of Invisible String
Damn that smile.
“The rolls will be ready in five minutes. Would you like a drink?”
“You made bread?” I’m impressed. It says a lot. I don’t get impressed easily. “I’ve never had fresh bread before.”
She spins to face me. “It’s your lucky day, Max.” She opens the fridge. “So, what do you want? I have water, Dr. Pepper, iced tea, cherry cola, and red wine. Sorry, I don’t have beer.”
“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.”
“Good choice.” She praises me like a child. “Make yourself at home. You can sit at the table or on the sofa. The remote is on the coffee table.” She hands me a can of Dr. Pepper.
This is probably one of the most awkward things I’ve done. I know it’s normal to many, but for me, it’s not.
It has me wondering how many guys she’s hosted that she does it so freely. I sit on the fluffy sofa as Rainey takes a pan of rolls out of the oven. The pit of my stomach turns with those thoughts. I shouldn’t care. I’ll be gone soon. With a flick of my thumb, I pop the soda open. “Do you need help?” I offer.
“Ahh, no, I got it.”
“Do you live here?” I ask.
“No, this is my parents’ vacation home. I’m attending the university in Reno. My parents are having problems, and I didn’t want to be around it, so I came to spend the summer here.”
She moves fluidly around the kitchen, taking plates out and adding noodles, then the sauce and meatballs.
“Are you staying for the summer or only a couple of weeks?”
She sets the plates on the table. “More than likely the whole summer.” She steps away from the table with her hands and gestures at the food. “Ta-Da! Dinner is served.”
We sit. It all looks delicious. Rainey sits across from me.
“Wow, it looks great. My mom used to always make me spaghetti.” With the fork, I twirl the spaghetti and take a mouthful. The flavors combust in my mouth, taking me back to the little boy I once was. The one with a happy smile on his face.
“I made my own sauce. It’s my mom’s recipe…I hope I’m not prying, but you said used to? Did your mom?—”
“Yes, she passed when I was six.” She is the first person I’ve shared a tad bit of my personal life with. I haven’t spoken of my mother in years, not because I don’t want to speak of her. It’s because no one has given a shit about my life to ask, and if they asked, it wasn’t because they cared. It was to meddle in my life. Why did my parents leave me? What led me into foster care? She places her warm hand over mine. Being pitied is the last thing I want from her, but she doesn’t.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Max. I bet she was a beautiful woman. Is she who you got your green eyes from?”
“Yeah, she was beautiful, and yes, I have her eyes.” I wish I had further memories to remember her by.
“You have pretty eyes, Max. She gave you such a gorgeous gift.”
Ah, damnit. Heat rushes to my ears with an unfamiliar feeling. I’m not keen on compliments. Not that women haven’t called me sexy or hot. They have, but this woman rattles me. I can’t fall under her spell.Again.
“Bread’s good,” I mumble, taking another bite of bread. My way to veer off the topic, and I don’t intend to tell her how things went after my mother passed. I don’t need her to pity me, and I boarded up that part of my life.
“Thank you.” Rainey lets go of my hand to proceed to eat her dinner. We stay silent for a couple of minutes. I’m halfway done devouring my food. I chunk off a piece of bread and dip it into my sauce.
When she giggles, I look up from my plate. “Great minds think alike,” she says, dipping her bread in the sauce.
My lips twitch.
“What do you do in Vegas? Party? Gamble?”
“Working and boxing.”
One sexy brow rises. “Boxing, huh? Well, you sure have the frame of one. And you have huge biceps. How long have you been boxing?”
“Since I was sixteen.” I stand and take my plate to the sink and wash it. Rainey stands next to me. “Oh, no Max, I got it.”
