Page 12 of You First
From his hideout, Gray wondered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that half smile. Before he could wonder if she was flirting, she spoke again.
“If he’s just interested in writing, I’m happy to bring him whatever he needs. Take-out. Groceries. Whatever. Does he like sweets?”
“Uh… I… guess?” Bax ventured, sounding confused. “I mean, he likes the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies at Great Harvest.”
Her smile grew. “I like to bake,” she said. “I can make him something like that.”
Gray felt a surprised breath leave him. He watched Baxter shake his head.
“You don’t need to do that.”
She shrugged. “I want to do it,” she said. “If I didn’t get out much, it would be nice to have something I liked.”
Oh, God. She thinks I’m a shut-in.
Bax nodded slowly. “Okay. Suit yourself. Um… so, yeah. You’re hired if you want the job.”
Her eyes went wide. “Seriously? Yes, I want the job.”
Her all-out smile was like a blow to the sternum. Gray knew in that moment he’d never want to look her in the eyes. Pity in a face like that would kill him.
CHAPTER FIVE
“GRAY BLAKEWOOD!?MYdadloveshis books.” Brooke said, wide-eyed.
They stood in the McCormicks’ kitchen while Meredith mixed cookie dough. Leona didn’t have any rolled oats, so she was using cornflakes instead. Cornflakes and chocolate chips made akillercookie, and she hoped her new employer would like them as much as she did.
“Would he let me borrow them?” Meredith asked, carefully folding in the flakes. Oscar played with his fire engine at their feet.
Brooke reached into the bowl, nabbed a chocolate chip, and popped it in her mouth. “You know it. I’ll bring them tomorrow.”
Friday afternoon had arrived. Big Jim was still at work, and Leona had gone to her quilting club, so Meredith and Oscar had the house to themselves — which was the only time Brooke came over.
“So, what’s he like?” her best friend asked.
Meredith gave a half shrug. “Don’t know. I didn’t meet him yesterday. I guess he’s really sick because he never came out of his room the whole time I was there,” she said, remembering the closed door to the downstairs bedroom when Baxter Blakewood had given her a tour of the house. “He’s got these two huge wolf dogs like onGame of Thrones. That was pretty cool.”
The dogs had followed them all over the house, even upstairs to Mr. Blakewood’s study.Studywas far too plain a word to describe the room. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a writing desk, a leather-upholstered loveseat near the fireplace, and French doors that led to a balcony rounded out the most perfect writer’s roost.
As soon as she stepped in, all she’d wanted to do was browse the shelves for a well-worn book, curl up on the loveseat, and drift away. While she and Mr. Baxter talked, both dogs settled down on a patch of sun on the floor. If that was where Mr. Blakewood worked, it probably wouldn’t seem so lonely. The dogs, the fireplace, and the view would feel like company.
Mr. Baxter had given her the tour, he’d explained, because he wanted her to check in on his brother every time she came to the house. In the quiet of the upstairs, he’d told her that Mr. Blakewood had recently fallen and hit his head, and she could see that his brother worried about that happening again. She shuddered at the thought of someone lying on the floor, incapacitated and alone.
Meredith knew this happened to the elderly all the time, and that made her sad, but the thought of it happening to a young person — who lived and worked alone — just seemed wrong. She’d reassured Mr. Baxter that she’d check on his brother every time she came over, and she planned to come by every day if she could.
Thus the cookies. She needed to pick up a prescription for him at Walgreen’s, and she wanted to bring him something to make their first meeting a pleasant one. She also wanted to let her new boss know that he could call her if he needed anything, day or night. After all, she was only a few blocks away.
“His house is huge for someone who lives by himself,” she said, spooning dough onto a greased cookie sheet.
“I guess being a big-deal author has its perks,” Brooke said. The tone of her comment chafed a little because it didn’t seem to fit the person Meredith had begun to picture.
“I mean, the house is big, and it’s nice, but it’s not…garish.It’s comfortable… and charming.”
Brooke gave her an impish grin. “It sounds like a great place to disappear once Jamie gets back.”
Meredith blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
But it would be.
