The Duet(21)

Jason laughed, an actual laugh that made me peel my hand away from my face and glance back up at him.

There was still a hint of smile on his face when he said, “That’s a shame. Those are good cookies.”

I frowned. “I know. I asked your assistant what your favorite bakery in LA was.”

He kept his gaze locked with mine and I saw a hint of lightness trying its best to seep through. “Oh, well.”

No matter what I did, I could not win with Jason Monroe. The universe was intent on making us mortal enemies. Except, I didn’t approve of enemies that were as good-looking as he was. Now that we were standing closer, I could smell the faint hints of his cologne, and each of his features that were breathtaking from a distance were only better up close. They were clearer, sharper, more interesting to behold.

But I just gave him an empty box of cookies, so what did it matter.

“I’ve got some stuff to finish up before dinner,” he said, turning toward the stairs with the cookie box still in his hand. As I watched him ascend the staircase and turn out of my sight, I assessed our first encounter. It could have gone a lot better. With a sigh, I went to retrieve my bags so I could carry them upstairs. I still had his shaving cream clutched in my hand, but I’d find another time to give it to him.

“Leave your bags,” Jason called from the second floor. “I’ll get them in a minute.”

A door closed a second later, so I assumed that he couldn’t hear me even if I wanted to protest.

Since I wasn’t left with much of a choice, I grabbed my purse, left my bags, and decided to try to find my room on my own. LuAnne probably thought that Jason would give me a tour or at least lead me to where I was staying, but she obviously didn’t know him the way I did. Or maybe he was only an asshole to me.

When I arrived on the second-floor landing, I peered down the hall. There were six doors flanking the hallway on each side, and then at the end, there was another set of stairs that I assumed led to the room on the third floor. Every one of the six doors in the hallway was closed except for one. I headed in that direction and smiled when I realized I’d guessed right.

It was a guest room and it was fit for a queen. The bed in the center of the room was topped with fluffy white linens and overstuffed pillows. The table next to the bed had a bouquet of pink peonies on it with a card that said my name on the front.

I took a step inside and spun in a circle. There was a flat-screen TV over the armoire across from the bed. A medium-sized bathroom connected to the side of the room and there was already a terry-cloth robe and all the bathroom essentials waiting for me inside.

The only problem was the closet. It was the smallest thing I’d ever seen, with just one hanging bar behind a thin door. I doubted I could fit even one-fourth of the clothes I’d brought with me for the trip inside of it.

“Brooklyn, dinner is ready!” LuAnne called from the first floor. Since there wasn’t much I could do about the closet situation, I went into the bathroom and washed my hands. I even dabbed some water on my face to get the layer of airport off my skin.

After I’d patted my face dry, I made my way back down the stairs, taking in the smell of roasted chicken as I hit the landing. Oh, hell yes. The last time I’d had a home cooked meal, Cammie had attempted to make sushi but she’d only succeeded in making my condo smell like fish for two weeks.

LuAnne’s cooking smelled divine. Garlic and spices mingled in the air and I let the aromas lead me toward the kitchen. When I made it to the doorway, I paused to take it all in. Each part of the house seemed to be even better than the last. The kitchen was a dream with dark stained wood cabinets and speckled granite countertops. A massive window hung over the sink and I realized that many of the walls in the cabin had been sliced up to include as many windows as possible. It wasn’t a mystery as to why they’d done it. In every direction there was a spectacular view waiting to be seen: mountains, forests, barns, and stables. It was mesmerizing to take everything in and I hardly noticed that LuAnne was watching me from the island.

“I bet they don’t have houses like this in LA,” she said with a warm smile.

I laughed, “Definitely not. I mean there are some amazing houses, but this is just different. You can’t compare them,” I explained.

She nodded thoughtfully.

I offered to help her prep the rest of dinner, but she shooed me off and told me to wait at the table. Most everything was already laid out: two plates, two glasses with chilled wine waiting to be poured into them, and mounds upon mounds of food.

“Will it just be the two of us at dinner?” I asked, purposely keeping any notes of disappointment hidden beneath my smile.