to
her unpreparedness was the fact that they’d already slept together, which
landed them in uncharted territory.
Braydon
followed her inside the house. Self-consciously, she scanned the mess. Balls
were everywhere. The sink was full of dishes from breakfast. Hunter’s shoes
spilled out of a basket in the hall. The wall had chipped plaster from where
there had been an episode last year. Labels and PECS—a common picture exchange
communication system—were everywhere.
Her
breathing picked up as she worried this was a mistake. “I’m sorry for the
mess.”
Braydon
removed his jacket and hung it on the hooks on the wall. Approaching slowly, he
took hers from her shoulders, surprising her and sending shivers down her arms.
Kevin never did things like that.
He
grinned. “Don’t apologize. Does the mess bother you?”
She
laughed nervously. “I’m used to it.”
“Would
you feel better if I helped you tidy up?”
What?
Who was this man? “That’s
okay.” How mortifying. The condition of her house was a result of her busy
schedule. She wasn’t a typically sloppy person. Maybe it bothered him. “Unless
it bothers you.”
“It
doesn’t, but you seem self-conscious. I promise I don’t mind either way. If
you’d like me to help you put away a few things so you can relax, I will. If
you just want to ignore it, that’s fine too.”
Oh,
my God. His
acceptance managed to expose her in some intangible way. It was comforting that
he genuinely didn’t seem to care, but on the other hand it embarrassed her. She
couldn’t leave the house like this.
“Why
don’t you watch some TV for a bit? I need to change out of my work clothes
anyway. Give me a second to do that and at least put a few things together,
then we can talk about ordering dinner or something and I’ll be less
distracted.”
He
studied her for a moment. “Okay.”
She led
him to the living room and quickly fixed the pillows tossed all over the floor.
Grabbing the remote from the basket on the mantle, she turned and handed it to
him. “You sit. Twenty minutes tops. The code for the premium channels is 0626.”
“No
worries, angel. Go do what you need to do.”
“Right.”
She
rushed up the steps and quickly stripped. When she pulled open her drawer of
house clothes she frowned. Nothing she owned was cute. Darn it!
Settling
on a pair of black yoga pants and a fitted plain white T-shirt, she changed and
headed to the bathroom. She smelled fine, but threw on some extra deodorant
anyway. After she brushed her teeth, she pulled up her hair and scowled at her
reflection. Crap. Not good.
Reaching
into her shirt, she hoisted up her breasts and tightened the straps of her bra.
That was better. Adding a dab of perfume to her pulse points she looked at her
watch. Crap.
Running
through the second floor, she scooped up dirty clothes, shoes, toys, and
anything else in her path. Stuffing the clothes in the bathroom hamper, she
shoved them down and shut the lid. Whisking the shower curtain closed, she
grabbed a wipe from the cabinet and quickly scrubbed away all the toothpaste
marks in the sink.
She was
sweating and grateful she’d added extra deodorant by the time she headed
downstairs. Music was playing. It was Stand by
R.E.M. and it was loud. Her steps slowed as she reached the landing.
All the
balls were back in their baskets. The shoes were tidied. She whipped around the
corner and looked at the empty couch. Where was Braydon?
R.E.M.’s
bouncy sound pumped from the television as she hastily searched for him. When
she reached the kitchen she skidded to a stop, her jaw nearly hitting the
floor.
Braydon
stacked dishes on a towel draped over the counter as he bopped his head to the
beat. The counters sparkled and miscellaneous things had been piled on the
table.
The
song stopped and he shut off the water, dishes done. When he turned and saw her
he stilled, a guilty smirk on his face. “I swear it wasn’t because it was
bothering me. I just
her unpreparedness was the fact that they’d already slept together, which
landed them in uncharted territory.
Braydon
followed her inside the house. Self-consciously, she scanned the mess. Balls
were everywhere. The sink was full of dishes from breakfast. Hunter’s shoes
spilled out of a basket in the hall. The wall had chipped plaster from where
there had been an episode last year. Labels and PECS—a common picture exchange
communication system—were everywhere.
Her
breathing picked up as she worried this was a mistake. “I’m sorry for the
mess.”
Braydon
removed his jacket and hung it on the hooks on the wall. Approaching slowly, he
took hers from her shoulders, surprising her and sending shivers down her arms.
Kevin never did things like that.
He
grinned. “Don’t apologize. Does the mess bother you?”
She
laughed nervously. “I’m used to it.”
“Would
you feel better if I helped you tidy up?”
What?
Who was this man? “That’s
okay.” How mortifying. The condition of her house was a result of her busy
schedule. She wasn’t a typically sloppy person. Maybe it bothered him. “Unless
it bothers you.”
“It
doesn’t, but you seem self-conscious. I promise I don’t mind either way. If
you’d like me to help you put away a few things so you can relax, I will. If
you just want to ignore it, that’s fine too.”
Oh,
my God. His
acceptance managed to expose her in some intangible way. It was comforting that
he genuinely didn’t seem to care, but on the other hand it embarrassed her. She
couldn’t leave the house like this.
“Why
don’t you watch some TV for a bit? I need to change out of my work clothes
anyway. Give me a second to do that and at least put a few things together,
then we can talk about ordering dinner or something and I’ll be less
distracted.”
He
studied her for a moment. “Okay.”
She led
him to the living room and quickly fixed the pillows tossed all over the floor.
Grabbing the remote from the basket on the mantle, she turned and handed it to
him. “You sit. Twenty minutes tops. The code for the premium channels is 0626.”
“No
worries, angel. Go do what you need to do.”
“Right.”
She
rushed up the steps and quickly stripped. When she pulled open her drawer of
house clothes she frowned. Nothing she owned was cute. Darn it!
Settling
on a pair of black yoga pants and a fitted plain white T-shirt, she changed and
headed to the bathroom. She smelled fine, but threw on some extra deodorant
anyway. After she brushed her teeth, she pulled up her hair and scowled at her
reflection. Crap. Not good.
Reaching
into her shirt, she hoisted up her breasts and tightened the straps of her bra.
That was better. Adding a dab of perfume to her pulse points she looked at her
watch. Crap.
Running
through the second floor, she scooped up dirty clothes, shoes, toys, and
anything else in her path. Stuffing the clothes in the bathroom hamper, she
shoved them down and shut the lid. Whisking the shower curtain closed, she
grabbed a wipe from the cabinet and quickly scrubbed away all the toothpaste
marks in the sink.
She was
sweating and grateful she’d added extra deodorant by the time she headed
downstairs. Music was playing. It was Stand by
R.E.M. and it was loud. Her steps slowed as she reached the landing.
All the
balls were back in their baskets. The shoes were tidied. She whipped around the
corner and looked at the empty couch. Where was Braydon?
R.E.M.’s
bouncy sound pumped from the television as she hastily searched for him. When
she reached the kitchen she skidded to a stop, her jaw nearly hitting the
floor.
Braydon
stacked dishes on a towel draped over the counter as he bopped his head to the
beat. The counters sparkled and miscellaneous things had been piled on the
table.
The
song stopped and he shut off the water, dishes done. When he turned and saw her
he stilled, a guilty smirk on his face. “I swear it wasn’t because it was
bothering me. I just
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