Page 12 of Spar
Steam swirled up from the dark liquid. The aroma teased her nostrils, and her mouth watered. He was being suspiciously nice, but the warm, rich flavor she knew the mug contained won over her better judgment. She bit the side of her lip, hesitating for only a moment. “Fine, but only because Ryan makes the best coffee.”
Tori took a sip and closed her eyes as the black liquid warmed her entire body. After opening her eyes, she stared at Chris over her cup, watching him as he took a long drink. He looked downright domestic with one large hand wrapped around the mug and the other tucked in his jeans pocket. Something intimate was hanging between them as they shared coffee on the private oasis of Ryan’s back deck.
His voice broke through the silence of the night. “Sorry to hear about your apartment.”
Tori studied the shadow of his face in the dark.Is he trying to have a normal conversation, or is this another trap?Sighing, she decided she was too tired to think one step ahead of his every move. If it was a trap, well, she would walk right into it. At least, she’d had enough wine to dull the pain.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
Chris cleared his throat and shifted his feet on the wooden deck, making the frozen slats creak under his weight.
“I was thinking, since Claire’s place is so small…”
The sliding glass door opened, and Ryan poked his head out. “Everything settled then?”
“Is what settled?” Tori stiffened, a prick of dread running up her spine. Her instincts had been right. She had been cornered into a trap.
“I was, uh, just getting to that.” Chris looked from Ryan to Tori.
When Chris didn’t continue, Ryan spoke for him. “Chris has offered to let you stay in his house up here until the renovations are done at the apartment. We’ll be neighbors!”
Gawking and baffled that he would think this was a good idea, Tori searched for an excuse that wasn’t “There’s no way in hell I’m taking charity from him.” Ryan knew as well as anyone that she and Chris were continually butting heads. Even if he didn’t understand the true reason behind it.
“I’ve already moved my things to Claire’s house.”
“It could be weeks, or maybe months, until they get the apartment ready.” Ryan placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you and Claire are close, but do you think she wants a roommate for a month?”
Tori started for the door, blocked by two large figures who didn’t budge as she stepped forward.Claire doesn’t mind, does she?She hated the idea that she would be inconveniencing her best friend almost as much as the thought of taking anything from Chris.
“Great. It’s settled.” Ryan smiled and retreated into the house, sliding the door closed, and leaving her alone again with Chris.
“You can’t be serious. You wantmeto stay atyourhouse?” Her head spun, and it wasn’t from the wine.
Shrugging, he turned and placed one hand on the slider. “It’s nothing. You need a place to stay. I have a place. Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is.”
Chris shut the door behind him, leaving her standing alone in the wintry night. Something — the cold air, the coffee, or the thought of staying at Chris’ house — had nudged, or rather shoved, her into sobriety. No big deal? Sure, maybe to him.
Chris made hisway down the hill to his house with an image of Tori’s haughty departure up the stairs and her biting words declaring she was staying at Ryan’s for the night replaying in his mind. It hadn’t deterred him in the least. On the contrary. He was thankful for the extra night to get the house ready.
One of his construction guys, Dax, was bringing up Tori’s things from her apartment and a few other things he had requested. He was sure he’d get another earful from her when she realized what he had done, but she’d need her things eventually, so what was the difference if he took care of it for her? Good Lord, she was stubborn.
The house smelled faintly of wood smoke, which he happened to enjoy, but he went about cleaning out the large fireplace in the living room and replacing the wall-plug air-fresheners throughout the two levels of the house.
Next, he grabbed the cleaning supplies from the laundry room and studied the bottles, trying to figure out what was what. The house had been used as a rental for the last two years, so he’d hired a service to clean the home after each guest left. The variety of cleaning bottles was a bit of a puzzle, but he grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle with the wordsall-purposeand headed up to spot-check the bathrooms.
Sweat beaded up on his forehead, and he felt like a damn fool scrubbing at a toilet that looked plenty clean to him. Why was he so worried about everything being perfect? Tori had seen his other homes and knew he wasn’t ultra-tidy. He liked to think he fell somewhere between the two extremes — clean freak and slob.
A voice bellowed up the stairs interrupting his thoughts on cleanliness. “Chris, you here?”
He shuffled down the stairs to greet Dax, who carried a large box with him.
“Thanks, Dax. I owe you.” Chris took the heavy cardboard box from him. “Are there more?”
Dax motioned toward the door. “One more box and then a couple bags with the other items you asked for.”
“Great. Let me help you so you can get back to your family. How was the road up?”
Dax led Chris out to his truck where another large box and a few plastic bags sat in the back seat. “Nothing the Raptor couldn’t handle,” he said as he patted the hood of his new Ford pickup.
