Page 19 of All Mine

“I could be dangerous.”

“You could be.” I studied her thin, frightened expression, and my gut said she was nothing more than a woman in trouble. “But, I doubt it.”

“I’m fine out here.”

No, she wasn’t. “Have you eaten? I have chicken, pizza, and all the chocolate you could want.” It was like coaxing a stray animal out of a hiding place.

“Do you have a shower?” she asked sheepishly.

“Absolutely.”

She slid from the car. “It’s been two days…”

“It’s okay. Come on. I’m Lauren, by the way.”

“I’m Eden,” she said. “Let me get my bags. I don’t like to leave my camera stuff in the car.”

“Photographer?”

“Yep.”

An hour later, we sat on my pull-out sofa bed and watched television. Eden’s hair was damp from the shower, and she ate two slices of leftover pizza. We’d made small talk, but I wasn’t any closer to knowing why she was homeless, on the run, or both. But perhaps it wasn’t any of my business.

Eden started in on the container of yogurt I’d given her.

“Sorry, I don’t have another bed,” I said. All my little apartment had room for was a sofa bed, television, a kitchenette with a small fridge, and a closet-sized bathroom. I’d managed to get two end tables on either side of the couch.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I was going to sleep on the backseat of my friends’ car.”

It wasn’t even her car. “Can I ask you something?”

Eden paused. “Sure.”

“Are you hiding from a man?”

Eden hesitated for a minute like she was trying to decide how much to tell me.

She looked away and nodded. “I don’t know what to do.”

“My friend, Sloane, has a house on the lake close to here. There’s an attached apartment not rented out right now. You can stay there and get it figured out.”

“Are you sure?”

Was I sure that I should have offered someone else’s property to Eden? No. But I could talk Sloane into it. She’d never rented it out because she was always paranoid someone would discover who she was.

“Yeah, I’m sure. It’ll be the perfect little place for you.”

“Why don’t you rent it?”

“Because I get up at 3 am to get the bakery started, and if I lived off site, that would mean a commute.”

“I see.”

“Speaking of which, I know it’s insanely early to go to bed, but I do have to get some sleep.”

“That sounds great,” Eden said. “I’m exhausted.” She crossed the room, tossed the empty yogurt container in the trash, rinsed the spoon, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Could I sleep with a strange woman in my bed?

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