He grinned, and it was the smile from her childhood. Not the sneering one he’d used to make her feel like she was worthless, but the one she’d witnessed so many times when he’d been caught off guard. A true smile.
“I don’t know. Let’s see.” He leaned over the counter and opened the container. “Looks like pasta. Alfredo. You like that?”
It was her favorite. And her stomach professed it for her.
Renner handed her the container and a plastic fork. She took it and sat on the couch. Beth stared at the food. She could do this without making herself look like a fool. It was just food. God.
Tuning him out, she twirled a tiny bite onto the fork and put it in her mouth. It was delicious of course. Eagan was a genius in the kitchen.
She took several more bites before she realized Renner sat in the chair adjacent to the couch. He was lounging with one ankle over his knee. His fingers were steepled over his mouth, and his intense eyes took in her every move.
What was he thinking?
Was he looking at her extra pounds and wondering if she ate more salads if she’d be different?
And the question of all questions: why the hell couldn’t she stop caring what he thought?
But that was the thing about her. It wasn’t just Renner, the boy who’d made fun of her, that she cared about. It was everybody. It was family and friends and acquaintances. It was strangers and customers and people she passed on the street. What people thought of her mattered more than it ever should.
It was a sick obsession, and if she didn’t find a way to stop caring about it, she’d never be happy.
Beth dropped the fork into the container, disgusted. “You want the rest?” she asked.
Her question seemed to break Renner out of his musings. “Don’t you like it?”
“Sure. It’s great. Eagan is pretty amazing.”
Renner stiffened.
“I’m just not in the mood for food.”
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Bed.”
Renner raised an eyebrow. “Any bed?”
“My bed.”
A wicked smile—one she’d never seen before—melted his curious expression. “But you’ve never tried my bed.”
“And I never plan to.”
“Ouch,” he said, grabbing his chest. “‘Never’ is a strong word.”
How could he sit there and flirt with her, and not remember who she was? That she used to pet his hair at night when he would cry because he missed his family? And she’d never taken advantage of his weaknesses to get back at him for his cruelty. She’d just taken everything he dished out because she knew he could be better. She’d waited for him to be better.
But he’d never was. Instead, he was moved to a different home. She never knew where and Ryan never talked about it. Neither did mom. Foster kids changed homes all the time. Renner had been the only kid they’d ever taken in, but Beth knew how it worked.
So she’d cried. And pretended to get over all the jokes and teasing and the few random moments of actual friendship. And she wondered what had happened to him. Assumed the worse. Assumed the best. But never ever did she imagine she’d run into Renner when she took the job at the lodge.
“You know what else is a strong word? Harassment.”
His playful grin vanished.
Beth stood. “I’m going to wait by the door. Maybe Magic will come through soon.” She dashed from the room before he could answer.
Except he followed.
“Hey, wait, Bethany…”
God, she wished he wouldn’t say her name.
His hand caught her arm, pulling her around. “Hey, I wasn’t… I was just…” He shook his head. “I was just joking. Trying to lighten the mood that’s all.”
She pulled her arm free and continued to the front. He followed.
“Did I do something to make you hate me?”
Hate him? No. But he was working his way there, that was for sure.
“Listen, I can’t make it right, if you don’t tell me what I did.”
Make it right. Was that something he’d even really care about? She’d had enough.
She spun to look at him, staring into his bewildered blue gaze. “Look at me,” she demanded. But he already was.
Renner squinted. “Okay. I’m looking.”
“Look at my face. Look at me. Really look at me.”
He cocked his head to one side, staring at her in a way he hadn’t yet since their reunion . “Have we met before? Is that why you’re mad at me? Because I don’t remember you?”
She expected her eyes to water, but something miraculous happened. Her anger kept the tears away. Temporary as it might be, she was thankful. She didn’t need to deal with waterworks right now.