stairs into a small living room. Attached to it was an equally small kitchen. He wasn’t lying about the couch, either. I didn’t have to sit in it to agree the floor was the better option.
It looked like it had been dragged from the destruction of a nuclear holocaust. The fabric on the arms was so deteriorated the wood poked through it. Tears in the seat cushions revealed chewed up foam, probably from the post nuclear cockroaches snacking on them. They were so worn down they didn’t really offer much padding from the protruding springs below them.
Who was I kidding? At this point, that couch looked like five-star accommodations. One would think I’d be well rested after a four-day coma, but it seemed the transformation was just as taxing as the fighting. I was ready to pass out anywhere my head landed.
Clint disappeared around the corner and came back holding a t-shirt for Gavin. “Sorry, it might not fit so well, but it’s the biggest I have.”
He handed it over, and Gavin took it gratefully. “Thank you. It will be fine.”
“Do I even want to ask why you’re missing a shirt?”
“Probably better off not knowing,” Gavin offered.
“Right, well, okay then. My daughter’s room is through this hallway.” He led us to the end of a short hall to the last door on the left and flipped on the light. He moved out of the way enough for us to squeeze past him, revealing a room with a twin size bed and a tad more floor space than bed space. There were shelves covered in little girl toys and figurines. The walls were a pale pink, and a Princess Sofia comforter draped the foot of the bed.
Clint ducked into an adjacent linen closet and reappeared in the doorway holding a stack of extra blankets and pillows. Gavin graciously accepted them as Clint nodded in response.
“Well, I’ll let you two get settled. There’s cereal in the pantry and milk in the fridge if you’re hungry when you wake up. I’ll have to get up early to open the shop, but I’ll leave the key on the counter for you to lock up when you leave. Just run it over to me before you go.”
“We’ll be out of here before you leave,” I said.
“Oh, ok. Um, goodnight then,” he said as he turned to leave.
“Clint,” I said.
“Yeah,” he paused at the door and turned back, his hand resting on the door handle.
“Thank you. For everything. I mean it. I really appreciate this. And for what it’s worth, I couldn’t have asked for a better boss.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I know. Anyone else probably would have fired you before putting up with that mouth of yours,” he admitted. “You’re welcome, Lucy. Good luck to you.” At that, he closed the door and padded down the hall.
Gavin chuckled as he laid out blankets on the floor, forming a makeshift bed.
“You have something to say?” I challenged him. When he kept quiet, shaking his head back and forth, I sighed. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m so bitchy? I’m not that bad.”
He laughed and turned to me, noticing my folded arms and raised brow. Scowling at him, I shot rusty metal stakes out of my eyes, daring him to say something. He prowled into my personal space, and I let out a ragged breath that was unwittingly held captive.
“No, you’re not that bad.” He leaned down to whisper the rest. “In fact, you can be very nice when you want to be.”
His ice blue eyes melted into the liquid fire that has always been incredibly dangerous to my hormones. There were so many cringe-worthy responses sparkling in those blue flames, and I knew he had it in him to rise to the occasion.
Instead, the warmth cooled and he turned away to lie down on the hard floor. He must have been pretty wiped out if he wasn’t willing to toe the line between flirting and full disclosure.
Feeling a rare form of nice, I changed the subject. “You can have the bed if you want it. I think you’ve been through enough the past few days.”
Without hesitation, he replied, “Lucille, take the damn
It looked like it had been dragged from the destruction of a nuclear holocaust. The fabric on the arms was so deteriorated the wood poked through it. Tears in the seat cushions revealed chewed up foam, probably from the post nuclear cockroaches snacking on them. They were so worn down they didn’t really offer much padding from the protruding springs below them.
Who was I kidding? At this point, that couch looked like five-star accommodations. One would think I’d be well rested after a four-day coma, but it seemed the transformation was just as taxing as the fighting. I was ready to pass out anywhere my head landed.
Clint disappeared around the corner and came back holding a t-shirt for Gavin. “Sorry, it might not fit so well, but it’s the biggest I have.”
He handed it over, and Gavin took it gratefully. “Thank you. It will be fine.”
“Do I even want to ask why you’re missing a shirt?”
“Probably better off not knowing,” Gavin offered.
“Right, well, okay then. My daughter’s room is through this hallway.” He led us to the end of a short hall to the last door on the left and flipped on the light. He moved out of the way enough for us to squeeze past him, revealing a room with a twin size bed and a tad more floor space than bed space. There were shelves covered in little girl toys and figurines. The walls were a pale pink, and a Princess Sofia comforter draped the foot of the bed.
Clint ducked into an adjacent linen closet and reappeared in the doorway holding a stack of extra blankets and pillows. Gavin graciously accepted them as Clint nodded in response.
“Well, I’ll let you two get settled. There’s cereal in the pantry and milk in the fridge if you’re hungry when you wake up. I’ll have to get up early to open the shop, but I’ll leave the key on the counter for you to lock up when you leave. Just run it over to me before you go.”
“We’ll be out of here before you leave,” I said.
“Oh, ok. Um, goodnight then,” he said as he turned to leave.
“Clint,” I said.
“Yeah,” he paused at the door and turned back, his hand resting on the door handle.
“Thank you. For everything. I mean it. I really appreciate this. And for what it’s worth, I couldn’t have asked for a better boss.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I know. Anyone else probably would have fired you before putting up with that mouth of yours,” he admitted. “You’re welcome, Lucy. Good luck to you.” At that, he closed the door and padded down the hall.
Gavin chuckled as he laid out blankets on the floor, forming a makeshift bed.
“You have something to say?” I challenged him. When he kept quiet, shaking his head back and forth, I sighed. “Why does everyone seem to think I’m so bitchy? I’m not that bad.”
He laughed and turned to me, noticing my folded arms and raised brow. Scowling at him, I shot rusty metal stakes out of my eyes, daring him to say something. He prowled into my personal space, and I let out a ragged breath that was unwittingly held captive.
“No, you’re not that bad.” He leaned down to whisper the rest. “In fact, you can be very nice when you want to be.”
His ice blue eyes melted into the liquid fire that has always been incredibly dangerous to my hormones. There were so many cringe-worthy responses sparkling in those blue flames, and I knew he had it in him to rise to the occasion.
Instead, the warmth cooled and he turned away to lie down on the hard floor. He must have been pretty wiped out if he wasn’t willing to toe the line between flirting and full disclosure.
Feeling a rare form of nice, I changed the subject. “You can have the bed if you want it. I think you’ve been through enough the past few days.”
Without hesitation, he replied, “Lucille, take the damn
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