sister Crystal away earlier was his offering of Krispy Kremes. All glazed. Her favorite. She fell on them like a shark in a feeding frenzy, although she'd had much more than her share of sweets since her mother broke the news and her father sadly confirmed it over the phone.
"A ‘hello, Seth’ would be nice,” he chided, moving toward the coffeepot.
She hadn't bothered making coffee yet. She mumbled something rude around a mouth full of doughnut.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I hope that was ‘Thank you, Seth,’ and not what it sounded like."
She gave him a dirty look but refrained from the accompanying gesture.
"I see you're off the crutches. Do you think that's a good idea?"
She shrugged.
"Have you attempted the stairs yet?"
She shook her head.
"My, you're talkative. Maybe it's because you haven't had any caffeine."
She took a breath between doughnuts, horrified to see she'd devoured four. “Too much caffeine. No sleep."
"Ah, she speaks. Sentence fragments, but a step in the right direction.” He moved toward her, cupped her chin in his palm and tilted her face up. She couldn't look away if she wanted to, and boy, she wanted to. She was suddenly aware of his rough hands on her gross-feeling-too-much-junk-food-affected skin, aware that her unwashed, unbrushed hair was stuffed into a makeshift bun, that her face had been makeup free for three days and celebrated by having a little pimple party. She wouldn't care that most of the women he dealt with kept themselves impeccably groomed.
She shouldn't care, but she did.
"Poor Lauren."
Okay, that tore it. She jerked away, overbalancing and nearly tipping over. He caught her arms and steadied her against him. The last time she saw him, he'd been Well Groomed Man, ready to take on the job. Today he was Just Rolled Out of Bed and Went for a Run Man. Infinitely sexier and much more touchable.
And so much trouble. She had enough change going on in her life without taking that road.
"I have an idea,” he said. “Get showered and dressed and I'll take you to the zoo."
Her favorite place in town. He was trying to be nice but she just couldn't accept it in the spirit it was given. She didn't want pity from a man whose world hadn't been turned upside down. “Yeah, I want to gimp around the zoo. No thanks. I have a great idea. Let's get wasted and watch some football."
"You hate football."
She gestured to her knee. “You have no idea."
"I tell you what. You go shower and change and I'll get you out of the house today. It'll do you good."
She hobbled toward the stairs, eyeing them warily.
"You need help?” he asked.
"I'll manage."
"Call me when you're done and I'll rewrap your knee for you."
"I've been doing it myself,” she said, a touch defensively.
He looked down at the lump under her sweatpants. “Yeah, I can see that. Call me when you're done, all right?"
He waited impatiently in the uncharacteristically messy living room, listening for the sound of the shower. She took forever, but it probably wasn't easy getting undressed with a bum knee. To occupy himself he gathered up the trash from the coffee table and floor around the couch. Where had she even gotten two boxes of Ding Dongs to eat? And the carton of ice cream? And two, no, three bags of popcorn? Had she had any real food since Thanksgiving?
Didn't her parents give a damn she was hurt and grieving? Yeah, Mitch had been working, but did he even bother to check on her? Seth swiped everything into the trash, folded the afghan over the back of the couch and straightened out the magazines on the coffee table, all the while with one ear tuned to the bathroom. She'd call if she needed help, wouldn't she?
The water shut off and he started up the stairs, then decided he'd give her a few minutes to get dressed before charging in.
"Lauren?” He knocked. “You decent?"
No answer.
"Lauren?"
He heard shuffling and the knob rattled. He took that as an invitation and opened the door. All he could think
"A ‘hello, Seth’ would be nice,” he chided, moving toward the coffeepot.
She hadn't bothered making coffee yet. She mumbled something rude around a mouth full of doughnut.
He lifted an eyebrow. “I hope that was ‘Thank you, Seth,’ and not what it sounded like."
She gave him a dirty look but refrained from the accompanying gesture.
"I see you're off the crutches. Do you think that's a good idea?"
She shrugged.
"Have you attempted the stairs yet?"
She shook her head.
"My, you're talkative. Maybe it's because you haven't had any caffeine."
She took a breath between doughnuts, horrified to see she'd devoured four. “Too much caffeine. No sleep."
"Ah, she speaks. Sentence fragments, but a step in the right direction.” He moved toward her, cupped her chin in his palm and tilted her face up. She couldn't look away if she wanted to, and boy, she wanted to. She was suddenly aware of his rough hands on her gross-feeling-too-much-junk-food-affected skin, aware that her unwashed, unbrushed hair was stuffed into a makeshift bun, that her face had been makeup free for three days and celebrated by having a little pimple party. She wouldn't care that most of the women he dealt with kept themselves impeccably groomed.
She shouldn't care, but she did.
"Poor Lauren."
Okay, that tore it. She jerked away, overbalancing and nearly tipping over. He caught her arms and steadied her against him. The last time she saw him, he'd been Well Groomed Man, ready to take on the job. Today he was Just Rolled Out of Bed and Went for a Run Man. Infinitely sexier and much more touchable.
And so much trouble. She had enough change going on in her life without taking that road.
"I have an idea,” he said. “Get showered and dressed and I'll take you to the zoo."
Her favorite place in town. He was trying to be nice but she just couldn't accept it in the spirit it was given. She didn't want pity from a man whose world hadn't been turned upside down. “Yeah, I want to gimp around the zoo. No thanks. I have a great idea. Let's get wasted and watch some football."
"You hate football."
She gestured to her knee. “You have no idea."
"I tell you what. You go shower and change and I'll get you out of the house today. It'll do you good."
She hobbled toward the stairs, eyeing them warily.
"You need help?” he asked.
"I'll manage."
"Call me when you're done and I'll rewrap your knee for you."
"I've been doing it myself,” she said, a touch defensively.
He looked down at the lump under her sweatpants. “Yeah, I can see that. Call me when you're done, all right?"
He waited impatiently in the uncharacteristically messy living room, listening for the sound of the shower. She took forever, but it probably wasn't easy getting undressed with a bum knee. To occupy himself he gathered up the trash from the coffee table and floor around the couch. Where had she even gotten two boxes of Ding Dongs to eat? And the carton of ice cream? And two, no, three bags of popcorn? Had she had any real food since Thanksgiving?
Didn't her parents give a damn she was hurt and grieving? Yeah, Mitch had been working, but did he even bother to check on her? Seth swiped everything into the trash, folded the afghan over the back of the couch and straightened out the magazines on the coffee table, all the while with one ear tuned to the bathroom. She'd call if she needed help, wouldn't she?
The water shut off and he started up the stairs, then decided he'd give her a few minutes to get dressed before charging in.
"Lauren?” He knocked. “You decent?"
No answer.
"Lauren?"
He heard shuffling and the knob rattled. He took that as an invitation and opened the door. All he could think
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