casual spin on the words. He gently pulled her hand away and tugged down his shirt before she caught sight of the bayonet scar near his left pectoral muscle. He’d earned those marks on a frozen battlefield half a world away, moments before he drew his last mortal breath; an unpleasant reminder of how his latest incarnation began.
“I wanted to thank you for taking care of me the other night,” David said, switching the topic to one less tricky. Another couple minutes of small talk, and he could retreat to the solitude of his apartment. “I really appreciate everything you did for me.”
“No problem. It’s what neighbors do, right?” Sarah shrugged, and then her gaze tracked back to the stove, where a large pot of water bubbled at a full boil. “I was just putting dinner on. Have you eaten yet?”
He was about to say yes when his stomach betrayed him with an audible growl.
Sarah arched a brow. “I’ll take that as a no.”
Another growl, cutting off any chances of bullshitting his way back to his apartment. “Guilty as charged.”
“Well then, it’s settled. Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I hope you like pasta.” Before he had the chance to come up with a decent excuse, she turned on her heel and moved to the kitchen. She tore open a package of rigatoni and emptied the entire box into the boiling water. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty for two. Or should I say three? There’s enough for Adam if you want to go get him.”
“Adam’s out with some friends tonight.” David stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind him. “Besides, it looks like you’re making enough to feed a small army.”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll send you home hungry.” Turning her attention back to the stove, she stirred the pasta until it reached a boil, then lowered the temperature on the burner and set a lid on the pot. “I work a lot of hours at the lab, so when I cook I usually make a big batch and freeze the leftovers for later.”
“Makes sense.” It had been months—no wait, years—since he’d bothered cooking a meal. Usually, he just ordered something from the deli or had a pizza delivered. The spicy scent of marinara sauce wafted over, and his stomach gurgled its appreciation. “So you work in a lab? What kind of work do you do there?”
“I specialize in biomedical research.” Wariness creased her brow. “You don’t have a problem with animal testing, do you?”
David shook his head. Judging by the defensive body language, he was treading on a touchy subject. “No. I have to admit I’m not very familiar with it, but I assume it has its purpose.”
She let out a breath as a look of relief crossed her face. “Good.”
He watched while she opened the cabinet by the refrigerator, her trim body stretching to reach the glasses on the top shelf. Toned arms, nice legs, and damn if he couldn’t help but appreciate the way the denim rode up her cute little ass. “I could have helped with the glasses, you know.”
“I know. But you’re a guest, and I’m used to getting them on my own.” She turned around, the glasses in her hands and a bottle of merlot tucked under her arm. “Do you like wine? I guess I should have asked before I got the glasses down. If you don’t, I have milk and iced tea. I might even have some beer in the fridge—”
“Wine’s good.” He took the glasses and the bottle of wine from her and set them on the kitchen table. After he uncorked the wine and filled the glasses, he took the opportunity to survey his surroundings.
The apartment suited her: neat but cluttered, with an eclectic mix of old and new. A functional brown couch took up one wall, the faded fabric covered with a brightly colored, hand-crocheted afghan. The top of the coffee table was barely visible under stacks of books and magazines, while a modest entertainment center housed the usual electronics. A pair of wooden bookcases took up most of the far wall, their weathered pine
“I wanted to thank you for taking care of me the other night,” David said, switching the topic to one less tricky. Another couple minutes of small talk, and he could retreat to the solitude of his apartment. “I really appreciate everything you did for me.”
“No problem. It’s what neighbors do, right?” Sarah shrugged, and then her gaze tracked back to the stove, where a large pot of water bubbled at a full boil. “I was just putting dinner on. Have you eaten yet?”
He was about to say yes when his stomach betrayed him with an audible growl.
Sarah arched a brow. “I’ll take that as a no.”
Another growl, cutting off any chances of bullshitting his way back to his apartment. “Guilty as charged.”
“Well then, it’s settled. Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I hope you like pasta.” Before he had the chance to come up with a decent excuse, she turned on her heel and moved to the kitchen. She tore open a package of rigatoni and emptied the entire box into the boiling water. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty for two. Or should I say three? There’s enough for Adam if you want to go get him.”
“Adam’s out with some friends tonight.” David stepped into the foyer and closed the door behind him. “Besides, it looks like you’re making enough to feed a small army.”
“Keep talking like that and I’ll send you home hungry.” Turning her attention back to the stove, she stirred the pasta until it reached a boil, then lowered the temperature on the burner and set a lid on the pot. “I work a lot of hours at the lab, so when I cook I usually make a big batch and freeze the leftovers for later.”
“Makes sense.” It had been months—no wait, years—since he’d bothered cooking a meal. Usually, he just ordered something from the deli or had a pizza delivered. The spicy scent of marinara sauce wafted over, and his stomach gurgled its appreciation. “So you work in a lab? What kind of work do you do there?”
“I specialize in biomedical research.” Wariness creased her brow. “You don’t have a problem with animal testing, do you?”
David shook his head. Judging by the defensive body language, he was treading on a touchy subject. “No. I have to admit I’m not very familiar with it, but I assume it has its purpose.”
She let out a breath as a look of relief crossed her face. “Good.”
He watched while she opened the cabinet by the refrigerator, her trim body stretching to reach the glasses on the top shelf. Toned arms, nice legs, and damn if he couldn’t help but appreciate the way the denim rode up her cute little ass. “I could have helped with the glasses, you know.”
“I know. But you’re a guest, and I’m used to getting them on my own.” She turned around, the glasses in her hands and a bottle of merlot tucked under her arm. “Do you like wine? I guess I should have asked before I got the glasses down. If you don’t, I have milk and iced tea. I might even have some beer in the fridge—”
“Wine’s good.” He took the glasses and the bottle of wine from her and set them on the kitchen table. After he uncorked the wine and filled the glasses, he took the opportunity to survey his surroundings.
The apartment suited her: neat but cluttered, with an eclectic mix of old and new. A functional brown couch took up one wall, the faded fabric covered with a brightly colored, hand-crocheted afghan. The top of the coffee table was barely visible under stacks of books and magazines, while a modest entertainment center housed the usual electronics. A pair of wooden bookcases took up most of the far wall, their weathered pine
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