He just looked at her. Damn it, she had a point.
She looked back at him, waiting.
He closed his eyes in defeat. “Okay,” he told her. “I’ll go.”
…
Jess finished putting away the new winter clothes she’d bought, all except for the red cashmere sweater, which she put on. She admired it in the mirror, reassuring herself that she looked good in red. It contrasted nicely with the brown hair that fell to her shoulders, and it gave her complexion a healthy glow. She really should have been wearing red all along instead of all those pastels.
Pastels were boring and safe. Red was bold, inviting excitement. She wanted to be red.
The sweater looked even better in the warm glow of the lamps in the living room of her father’s house. She’d just put another log on the fire when the doorbell rang. She jerked upright, surprised. She didn’t know many people around here yet, and seven o’clock on a winter’s evening in the middle of a long-overdue snowstorm was an odd time to pop in on someone.
Curious, she walked to the door and looked through the side window.
She blew out a deep breath as if she’d been holding it for months. He really had come. She took a second to calm her nerves, then pasted a smile on her face and opened the door. “Hello, Tyler. Come in.”
He stood in the doorway a moment, just looking at her face. Then at her sweater. Then back to her face. “You look nice. I’m not used to seeing you in anything but black.”
Or nothing at all. It hung between them, unspoken, electrifying the air. Or maybe just her. He looked pretty composed as he stepped inside, brushing snow off his wool peacoat.
“Can you stay awhile? I didn’t expect you so soon.”
“You expected me?”
“I knew you’d have to come for your motorcycle. I just didn’t know if you’d stop in to see me, or if you’d use your key to the garage and just…take it.”
His lips quirked up in amusement. “Jess, there’s over a foot of snow out there and the roads are slick with drifting snow and black ice. I didn’t come for the bike.”
“Oh.” She felt suddenly knocked off her stride. “I, uh, I don’t know much about driving in winter, or about riding motorcycles.” They sounded fun, though. Like they’d go with her red sweater. “Why did you come?”
“I came to see you.”
Her heart skipped a beat, eager for what it couldn’t have. Stupid heart. If what Tyler felt for her was anything close to what she felt for him, he would have been here before now. She skirted the topic. “How did you know I’d be here?”
A rueful smile touched his mouth. “I didn’t. I went to Houston first. Even your mom didn’t know where you were.”
She slapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her gasp. “You talked to my mother?” God, she hoped it wasn’t one of Mom’s tin-foil-helmet days. The only thing worse would be if…“Oh, crap, does she know I’m here?”
“She thinks you’re at a villa in Campeche, Mexico, working on your next series of books, just like you told her.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“You could have picked a smaller place. I checked with every villa and resort and hole-in-the-wall lodging in Campeche trying to find you…”
“Are you serious?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m thorough.”
He was, she remembered. In everything he did.
“Wally’s house was the only other place I could think of. When I saw that it had been pulled from the market, I figured that meant you were here. Why didn’t you tell your mom?”
“She separates herself from anything to do with my dad. I don’t think it’s personal so much as fear that he was either working for the government or against it. That makes his house a dangerous place to be, which switches on her paranoia, big-time. It’s easier if I don’t tell her.”
He nodded, taking a few steps to the table that sat between the entry and the living room, running his hand over an elaborate hookah pipe that sat on it. “You haven’t changed anything.”
“No, I…Oh, I see. You changed your mind about the contents of the house. Well, it’s all yours, so take whatever you want.”
“I told you, I don’t want any of it. Wally only wanted to make sure I got anything to do with Omega. Everything else should belong to you.”
“Thank you, that’s, uh…thanks. I kept everything as it was because I wanted to soak it all in, get to know him. I feel like you and Omega reintroduced me to my dad, and I want to learn more about that part of him that you knew.”
“He’d like that.” He walked aimlessly around the living room, touching a book on the coffee table, a statue on the mantle. She knew he was remembering and said nothing, wishing she had things to remember, too. He finally stopped in the center of the big Persian rug and put his hands in his coat pockets. He looked completely at home, which seemed appropriate because he’d probably spent more time in this house than she had. “So are you working on the new books, like you told your mother?”