I stared off into space, my mind whirling, as I tried to come up with a solution that would suit us both and not leave me homeless. My eyes landed on my open duffle bag on the floor, a tattered romance book tilting out of the open top.
My eyes widened.
Could it work? Or would he throw me out of the house?
From what I’d remembered, Torin had been more bark than bite. Though he was intimidating, both in manner and physical form, I also remembered the time he’d helped bottle-feed a kitten that Avery had rescued from behind a garbage bin on the street.
Standing, I went to the small bathroom and sighed at my appearance. Dust smudged one cheek, and my hair was tousled in a messy knot on my head. If I was going to propose what I thought would be a viable solution to buy me some time, I needed to at least make myself presentable. Grabbing my makeup bag, I dashed some blush onto my cheeks, lined and smudged my eyes to make them a touch bigger, and ran my fingers through my hair to detangle it and leave it softly floating around my shoulders. I changed into a soft, siren-red jumper, one of my favorite vintage finds, and slicked clear lip gloss across my lips. When finished, I studied my face in the mirror. Subtly sexy, well at least as sexy as I could get, approachable, and hopefully sufficiently put together to convince this man to let me stay in his house until I got my shite together.
When I eased the door open and peeked out, I found Torin eating soup and a massive sandwich at the big table, a fire dancing in the grate. Rock music, turned low, played in the background, and he scrolled through an iPad in front of him. Edging closer, I saw it was stock reports.
Of coursethe man was into investing.
It was so adult of him.
Which in fairness, he was.
As was I.
He had to be in his early thirties by now, though I couldn’t quite remember his exact age. I’d turned thirty earlier this year. Which was why I knew that I needed to figure out what I was doing with my life. At times I still felt like a kid, fresh out ofschool, the whole world in front of me. Yet many of my friends were married, even mothers now, and well into their careers. While I floundered, latching myself to, apparently, the wrong career path. Everyone always said to do what you love and the money would follow, unfortunately, I just hadn’t found that to be the case for me.
“Are you just going to stand there staring at me, or are you going to come in?”
I jumped at Torin’s gruff voice, the sound sending a shiver of awareness down my back, and I edged closer to the table.
“Um, so I was thinking…”
Torin glanced up, his gaze slicing through me, and gestured to his pint glass.
“Beer?”
“No, I just?—”
“Wine?” Torin stood and I watched, flabbergasted, as he went to an actual wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle. “Red suit you?”
“Um, sure.” It wouldn’t hurt, that was for sure. “Thank you.” Why was he doing a one-eighty and serving me wine now? Confused, I bit my lower lip and stood, hands linked behind my back.
“Did you eat?”
“Eat?” I couldn’t follow what was happening. An hour ago he was shouting at me and now he wanted to feed me?
“Aye. Food? The stuff that gives you sustenance and keeps you alive.” Torin angled his head toward a pot on the stove. “I’ve plenty of soup left. Potato leek. Help yourself.”
My stomach grumbled in response, and Torin sighed and put the wine bottle down next to a glass on the counter. Moving to the stove, he ladled out a bowl of soup, sliced off a thick hunk of crusty bread, and plopped it down at a seat across from him on the table.
“Sit.”
I did as I was told, my heart hammering in my chest, as he poured me a glass of wine and then returned to the table, sliding into the seat across from me. He’d changed into loose grey joggers, and a hooded sweatshirt, and I wanted to crawl onto his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.
Shocked at the thought, I reached for my wine and took a healthy gulp, needing to think about anything else than just how freaking gorgeous this man was.
“Slàinte,” Torin said, dryly, raising his glass to me, and I winced. I tilted my glass at his and swallowed against the awkwardness that now clogged my throat.
“Sorry, I should have thanked you first. It’s been… an unsettling day.”
“I’d say.” Torin sighed and picked up his spoon, gesturing at me with it. “Eat.”
“Oh, aye. Thanks.” We ate in silence for a few moments, until Torin had finished his meal, and I’d made my way through most of the soup. My nerves were scrambling as I searched for a way to propose my, admittedly, outlandish temporary solution to the truth spell problem.