Page 17 of Last First Kiss
Was that a joke? Her easy smile made him think she was teasing him. Obviously she’d done her homework, not just on him but on everyone.
“So, dinner?”
“Nah, I’m good. But thank you for the offer. Did you receive a box I had delivered?”
“The protein shit?”
She rolled her eyes. “The protein shakes, yes.”
“Wendy put them in the pantry.”
She sat up a little straighter, and her fingers stopped moving. “Wendy?”
“She comes by most days to clean,” he explained.
“Oh, okay. Wow, why didn’t I know about a Wendy?” She picked up her file and started skimming through it. “Thanks for the dinner offer. I’ll just grab one of my shakes later on.”
“You’re going to have a shake instead of dinner?”
She looked up and shrugged. “Yeah. No biggie. Tomorrow I want to do a full walk-through of the house.” Then she hopped off the bed and walked to the door, standing by it as if dismissing him. “Again, your security system sucks. But we’ll sort it out.”
“Um . . . okay.”
“Have a good evening, Rocco.”
Shocked and disconcerted, he walked out as the door closed behind him.
Did she kick me out of the room?
Yes, I think she did.
* * *
“What’s up with you?” Paul asked an hour later, after they’d gone over a bunch of paperwork, none of which Rocco had read or even glanced at. He had been so damn distracted. His mind was reeling. She was not affected by him. She really wasn’t going to walk across the hall to his room in the middle of the night in just a red lace thong and sit on his face so he could ravage her pussy.
He stood and walked outside, turning on the grill. “Hello? Earth to Rock.”
“She is a fucking enigma, man. She’s just . . . there.”
“Who?”
“Annabelle.”
“Your new bodyguard?” Then he looked around. “She’s here?”
“Exactly, you didn’t even know, did you? You’ve been here almost two hours and not a single word from her. That’s the problem. She won’t come hang out. She’s all about keeping things professional.”
“That’s good.”
“If we’re going to be in each other’s faces for months shouldn’t she try to be . . . I don’t know, friendly?”
Paul picked up a beer and drank, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “She wasn’t friendly?”
“She was.” Not at first. But eventually, in her own awkward babbling sort of way.
“I don’t understand.”
Frustrated, Rocco shook his head and placed the two steaks on the grill.
