“It is.”
Had Clay asked Kurt if they could stay there for her safety? “Am I in danger?”
“I hope not, but I don’t like to take chances.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. Something seemed odd about the offer, but questioning him would only elevate her anxiety. “Are we going right now?” It was close to midnight.
“As soon as we stop back at the house to pack a few things.”
She had no idea how far away this house might be, but if it was on the west coast of Florida, the only reason to leave now was because Clay knew more than he was saying.
Chapter Nine
Elena felt a little embarrassed falling asleep in the car on the way to Kurt’s other home.
“We’re here.” Clay cut the engine and she stretched.
“Sorry, I wasn’t much of a companion. Where are we?”
“It’s a small town called Orangeburg. It’s about forty-five minutes south of Gulfside.”
She’d never heard of it. Clay opened his door and she opened hers. The air was chillier here, but the salt air smelled refreshing.
He gathered their suitcases. “Follow me.”
As soon as they neared the door, lights clicked on. “That’s handy.”
“The place is rigged with all sorts of cool stuff.”
When they entered, lamplight lit the cozy living room. The pastels and soft fabrics gave it a lived-in feel, yet from the carefully placed artwork, it appeared professionally decorated.
“I like it.”
“I do, too. Tomorrow, I’ll give you the full tour. Let me show you to your room.”
Since she could barely keep her eyes open, she was good with that. For a moment, she thought Clay might suggest they share a room, but sleeping alone worked, too. It would give her time to figure out what she wanted to do.
He pushed a door open and motioned for her to enter. As soon as she went in, the light from three soft sconces cast a yellow glow over the room. The king-size bed only took up a portion of the room. A two-seater sofa, two chairs, and a coffee table huddled in the far corner.
“This is amazing.”
He chuckled. “Don’t get too used to the luxury.”
Uh-oh. “I didn’t mean your place wasn’t nice.” Yeesh. She had a sleep-deprived brain.
“I know. I’m kidding.” He put down both suitcases and rubbed both of her shoulders.
When he leaned close, her heart hammered. His lips parted and she thought he’d kiss her. All right, she wanted him to kiss her.
“Are you going to be okay by yourself in a strange place?”
The first night at their house, she said she didn’t want to be alone, but instinctively understood Dirk was the one for her. As much as there was a strong attraction between her and Clay, at least on her part, she didn’t think it was reciprocated.
“I’m good.”
“I’ll be next door if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
He picked up his suitcase and walked out.
A small crack split her heart. She squashed the debate in her head about whether to crawl into his bed or not. The potential rejection seemed too great. Right now, it would be better to have a good night’s sleep and see how things panned out tomorrow. Her goal, too, was not to dwell on Dirk or if he was in danger.
#
When Elena opened her eyes, it took a moment to realize where she was. The heavenly scent of coffee snuck under her door and forced her to get up. Quickly, she changed into a different pair of yoga pants, and layered a short sleeve shirt under a thin sweater. The beach might be cold this time of year.
Pans banged and the rich aroma of breakfast trailed down the hallway. It was easy to locate the kitchen. When she passed through the living room and stepped into the kitchen, Clay was busy scraping the pan with a rubber pancake turner and cursing.
“Need help?”
He whipped around and the tension in his face dissipated. “You cook?”
“My mother is Hispanic. I think I had a pot and a wooden spoon in my hand when I was two.” She stepped next to him. Only a hint of cologne reached her over the burnt eggs. “Did you put any oil in the pan first?”
“Fuck.” He clamped his mouth shut. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I might be inexperienced in bed, but trust me, I’ve heard it all.” Too often Harvey Couch would be in his office and would swear up a storm. Looking back, she realized she should have quit months before.
“Do you think it’s edible?” He lifted the pan. The pan was charred and the eggs dirty.
“No.”
“There aren’t any more eggs. You want to eat out?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
He dumped the ruined batch down the sink and ran the disposal.