Blush(35)
Fury swamped him. Jesus H. Christ. While she was playing house in Louisiana, had she been notified about the accident? If not, she was still responsible. If so, she was pretty fucking cavalier about the deaths of hundreds of children.
How the fuck did she live with herself?
Cruz started the car.
Decision made.
• • •
“You’re up early,” Cruz said, sounding annoyed as Mia walked into the kitchen. She’d had a moment when she’d woken at her normal 6:00 a.m. and Cruz and his truck were gone. But since he’d left the camper, and the dog’s heavy head was resting on her hip, she presumed he’d be back. He wasn’t the kind of guy—she didn’t think—who’d abandon his dog and not say goodbye.
Of course, she didn’t know that at all. For all she knew, she’d granted access to her house, and her body, to a serial killer. She should probably be worried about that. But that horse was out of the barn. If he was a serial killer, he would’ve done what he’d come to do by now.
The kitchen was redolent with the delicious smell of bacon and pancakes. “You made breakfast?” Anything less like a serial killer would be hard to find. Slouched on a bar stool, wearing nothing but low-slung jeans and what for him passed as a smile—in other words, he wasn’t somber. Bare-chested and barefoot, his hair wet from a recent shower, he looked delectable.
All Mia’s girl parts contracted, and she wanted to do him right there. Right now. “You were out and about early,” she said, forking a pancake and a few strips of bacon onto the plate waiting for her beside the stove. Had he left her bed to go to another woman? She wondered if perhaps he had a local girlfriend, then was sorry she’d thought it. “I hope I’m not keeping you from a friend . . . ?”
“A friend?”
“Someone you know in town. I have plenty of time, if you’d rather start work another day.”
“I don’t know anyone in town. If you don’t want me to stick around, say the word and I’ll be out of here.”
“Wow, you’re touchy this morning. Did you get out of the wrong side of bed? Not my bed, but a bed?”
“I don’t spend the night in any woman’s bed. Unless we’re still fucking when the sun comes up. But I consider that the night before.”
Mia poured a mug of coffee, then added milk and sugar and leaned against the counter as she lazily stirred. He was snippy, and now she felt snippy. “I’ll be sure to make a note of that.”
“I had some errands to run before I got to work. I was going to make baozi, but I wasn’t sure that would be something you’d eat, so I stopped for more bacon.”
His mood switched off and on like a light switch. Mia immediately was wary. She read people pretty well—she had to. Was he hiding something? Lying? It was almost impossible to tell, he had such a poker face. “I’m a pretty adventurous eater,” she said easily, sipping her coffee. “What’s baozi?”
“Chinese dumplings, steamed or fried. Usually stuffed with pork, beef, and vegetables, with a soy- or chili-based sauce. Really good.”
She sat down across from him at the island and imagined she could smell soap on his skin. She also had a quick flash memory of him on top of her right where her plate now sat, and felt her cheeks grow warm.
One look at his face told her that if he remembered that night, it wasn’t having any impact on him now. So be it. After last night she’d felt her guard and natural caution slip down another notch or two. Now her shields were back. “I’ll have to try them,” she said easily, scooping up a handful of blue flower petals scattered on the counter. She put them beside her mug. “I like Chinese food.”
“Ever been there?” he asked casually, holding his coffee mug in one hand as he idly fondled Oso’s ear. The dog stood beside the tall bar stool, front paws on Cruz’s jean-clad knee.
“No, but I’d like to go.” Guy Stokes, head of manufacturing, had talked about opening a manufacturing plant in Beijing for a while, but they’d opted for Korea instead. “You?”
“Chinatown in various places, but never China. But I like Chinese food, too. Big fire there, I heard on the news this morning.”
Mia supposed it was free association, but she checked. “In China?”
“Yeah, some big factory there burned almost to the ground. Three hundred kids under twelve years old who worked there in appalling conditions were killed. Doors to the exits were locked, apparently.”
She pressed her palm to her chest in horror. “God, that’s unimaginable. Aren’t there laws against—well, laws in general there?” Mia could pretty much name every American law pertaining to employee safety, and the ones she didn’t know, her staff did. And before Blush went into another country, laws there were put through the same diligent and rigorous process as at home.