“What about the joystick?” Mitch asked. “Doesn’t look like Nintendo.”
Ford moved the joystick and pushed a few buttons on the keyboard. From somewhere in the house, a door slammed. “You can close and lock any doors in the house with this. Comes in handy in case we do have an intruder.”
Mitch looked over at Simone, and flashed her a See? Nothing to worry about look. Her expression said she didn’t agree.
“Impressive,” Mitch said, refocusing on Ford. “Has Kendrick had to use any of this?”
“Not yet. Directions for everything are in the cabinets, along with supplies should you find yourself in here longer than a few minutes.”
“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Mitch muttered under his breath.
Ford led them out of the safe room and closed the bookshelf door. “It’s just a precaution. Things have been quiet here.” He turned to face them. “Do either of you have any questions about local activities, rentals, etcetera? We’re kind of between seasons now, but I can get a list of restaurants and spas in the area if you’re interested.”
“No,” Simone said quickly. “We won’t be leaving the house.”
A slow smile spread across Ford’s face. “A cozy romantic vacation. I totally understand.”
Simone opened her mouth to correct him, but Mitch cut her off by sliding an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. “Yep. Just that.”
She flashed him a startled look, but Mitch only tugged her in tighter and lifted his brows, telling her to play along. She was the one who’d said she didn’t want to give Ford any personal info, just in case. Admitting they weren’t a couple would only raise flags for the security guard. If he thought Kendrick had loaned the house to friends for a romantic getaway, then Mitch wasn’t about to give the guy any reason to wonder about the contrary.
“We drove down from Klamath Falls,” Mitch said. “It’s nice to get away, isn’t it, sweetheart?”
Confusion flashed in Simone’s eyes, but it quickly cleared. She fixed a pleasant look on her face and slid her arm around his waist. Heat flared wherever she touched, but her body remained taut, as if just being close to him put her on the defensive. “Yes, it is. Kendrick was so nice to let us use his house. Your childhood friendship has finally paid off.” She focused on Ford. “We just want to relax and not have to worry about other people. At all.”
“Well, you picked a perfect place. This is one of the most romantic spots on the planet. And if you get the urge to tie the knot, there are even a few wedding chapels down in South Lake Tahoe.”
Simone released a startled choking sound, and Mitch just couldn’t help himself. He rubbed her shoulder and smiled down at her. “Hear that, honey? We could avoid the whole engagement thing and just run off and elope. Sounds like a plan to me. Saves me from having to buy a ring.”
Simone’s fingers dug into his side, and Mitch bit back a wince as she laid her head sweetly against his chest. “Now, honey. That wouldn’t be fair to your three ex-wives considering all they got was a civil ceremony at the county courthouse, and here I would be getting an actual wedding in a real fancy chapel. And you know how disappointed your mother would be if we ran off and eloped. She said this time she was really hoping you’d finally wear that baby-blue tux she saved from your high school prom.”
A smile cut across Mitch’s lips, even with the pain radiating from his side where Simone was still pinching him. This was the woman he remembered before things had gone to hell between them. The one who could take his crap and dish it right back.
Ford glanced between them with a confused expression, then dropped his arms. “I, ah, think I’ll just go get your bags.”
“Thank you,” Simone said in that saccharin sweet voice.
When he disappeared down the hall and they heard the door open then close, Simone quickly pulled her arm from Mitch’s waist and stepped away. “A wedding chapel? You’re hilarious.”
He rubbed at his side. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want to give him any personal info.” Damn, the woman was strong. “And how did you know I wore a baby blue tux in high school?”
Simone rolled her eyes and crossed to the fireplace, which was already roaring with a generous fire. “It’s no surprise you wore an ugly tux to your prom. You have nonconformer written all over you.”
Mitch chuckled, feeling more relaxed than he had in days. “The shirt was the best part. It had ruffles.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
The door opened and closed again, followed by Ford’s voice from the entry. “I’m just putting your bags upstairs.”
“Thanks,” Mitch called.
Ford’s footsteps echoed up the stairs. While Simone stared at the fire, Mitch moved into the kitchen. He glanced over the contents of the fridge, and his stomach rumbled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since last night.
“Y’all have a good night,” Ford called from the entry again. Before either of them could answer, the door opened and closed behind him.
He’d said he’d be scarce. Mitch scratched his head beneath the back edge of his knit cap and told himself he should be happy. But one look at Simone’s rigid shoulders, and he could already see the tension returning.
He needed to keep things light. Yeah, she was uncomfortable around him, but she didn’t have to be. The last few minutes had proved they could still get along like they used to. “How about some dinner? I could cook a couple of steaks.”
“I’m not hungry.”
That cold, emotionless tone was back in her voice. The one he’d heard the whole drive up here. “You should eat something.”
“I’m not interested.” She dropped her crossed arms and turned for the entry. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to bed early.”
Running. She was good at that. She’d run from him the night she’d shattered his heart, had run from him last night when she’d found that earring, and she was doing it now.
He quickly stepped out from behind the counter so he could look after her down the hall. “You can’t hide from me the whole time we’re here, you know. You’re gonna have to talk to me at some point.”
She paused with one hand on the newel post, one foot on the first step. But she didn’t look his way, and the tightness in her shoulders told him loud and clear that she’d keep on running until he forced her to stay. “Not if I can help it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Simone awoke to the tantalizing scent of frying bacon.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten much yesterday. Blinking several times, she sat up and looked through the tall glass windows over the clear blue lake and the snowcapped mountains beyond. Awe rippled through her. It had been nearly dark when they’d arrived last night, so she hadn’t gotten a good view of Lake Tahoe, and now that she saw it for the first time she couldn’t help but be impressed. For years she’d been meaning to bring Shannon up here but kept putting it off. Like she kept putting off a lot of things.
She pushed that depressing thought aside and rose from the comfy bed in the smallest bedroom, which she’d purposely picked last night, the farthest from the master where Ford had left their bags. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, but it didn’t ease the chill in the room. Rubbing her arms, Simone crossed to the bag Kate had packed for her, drew out a Stanford sweatshirt and tugged it on over her T-shirt.
A thin layer of snow covered the ground, but the skies were blue, not a cloud to be seen, and she remembered what Ford had said last night—that they weren’t expected to get any major snow, at least not today.
That was probably a good thing, in case they needed to get out of here fast. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was almost ten a.m. She couldn’t remember what time she’d finally fallen asleep, but it had been late. Instead of sleeping, she’d rolled around everything that had happened with Mitch the last few days and couldn’t stop thinking about his comment last night about not being able to avoid him.
Her stomach tigh
tened, but this time not with hunger pains. Avoiding him was all she wanted to do at this point. Not wanting to think about that too much, she moved into the adjoining bathroom, brushed her teeth and combed her hair, then stared at her reflection.
She looked like hell. Dark circles were clearly evident beneath her eyes, and her cheeks looked hollow, her skin pale. She needed to take better care of herself for Shannon’s sake. When she got out of here and she decided where she and Shannon were going next, she’d make a point to eat better. Or simply just eat.
The scent of frying bacon drifted through the air once more, intensifying those hunger pains. She needed to eat now. But eating meant facing Mitch. And at this point she didn’t know what to say to him.
Running her fingers through her hair, she decided enough was enough. She found socks in her bag, slid them on, then headed for the hall.
Some football game was playing on the flat-screen TV when she stepped into the great room. Bacon sizzled on the stove, and the aroma of fresh brewed coffee hit Simone for the first time, waking up her senses in a way they hadn’t been before.
Mitch looked up from the stove, a spatula in hand. His heated gaze slid over her, then quickly moved back to the pan. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”
Okay, she had that coming. Steeling her nerves, Simone fingered the gold bracelet on her wrist and moved into the room. “I smelled coffee.”
Liar.
He stirred scrambled eggs in the pan. “Help yourself.”
He hadn’t looked at her since she’d first walked into the room, and though she told herself that was a good thing, a tiny space in her chest pinched. Lifting her chin, she moved around the island, drew a mug out of the cabinet, and poured a cup of the steaming brew. The bitter liquid went down like a bullet, but it gave her a strength she’d been missing, and just this one small normality felt like a slice of control she’d lost.
Turning, she leaned back against the counter and looked toward Mitch. He’d obviously been up for a while, had already showered and was wearing loose-fitting jeans and a Mariners sweatshirt. No matter how long he lived in the Bay area or how many Giants games he went to, he would always be a Pacific Northwest boy, and the Mariners would always be his team.
He was right. She couldn’t go on avoiding him. They were stuck here together for at least the next few days. Instead of fighting it, she needed to at least be civil. And try not to make both of them miserable in the meantime.
“I apologize if I came across as rude last night. I was tired, and it had been a long day, and…” I don’t know how to be around you anymore. She swallowed hard. “…and I was a little overwhelmed by everything. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Mitch’s hand stopped moving over the pan, but he didn’t turn to look at her. “Apology accepted.”
Simone waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. And she figured she had that coming too. She took another sip for courage, then lowered her cup and worked like hell for normal. “Have you seen Ford this morning?”
He moved the eggs to a plate and added the eight slices of bacon he’d cooked. “Nope.”
He took the plate and his coffee to the table and sat down. Simone looked from him to the pans on the stove, which were now empty, then back to the table, which was only set for one. Her stomach rumbled.
“Oh, did you want breakfast?” Mitch asked.
Simone stiffened. He hadn’t cooked extra for her. But then why would he? She’d told him last night she didn’t want to be around him. But still, a tiny place in her chest pinched again. “No. I’m fine.”
A slow smile spread across Mitch’s face, and that damn dimple in his cheek that she always loved winked at her. He pulled an empty plate from beneath his and set it on the table across from him. Then he tugged an extra fork and napkin from the pocket of his sweatshirt. “Your lips may lie, but your stomach tells another story.” He scooped half the eggs and bacon onto the second plate. “Sit and eat. You can be annoyed with me later.”
The relief coursing through Simone’s veins felt stupid, but she saw the olive branch he was dangling, and she took it.
She sat and dove into her meal. Mitch smiled and lifted his fork. After several bites, Simone nodded toward the TV. “Who’s playing?”
“No one. They’re replaying an old game. 1991 Rose Bowl. What should have been the championship game.”
She looked closer and realized it was Washington playing, their purple uniforms standing out against the green field. He was from the Seattle area, and he was married to the Mariners. Yet he’d ended up at school in California. They’d dated long enough for her to know he loosely followed Husky football, but she didn’t know why.
She lifted her coffee. “Do you know someone who went to the University of Washington?”
“My parents.” He lifted a bite of eggs. “They met there.”
How had she never known that? “You didn’t want to go there too?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to play baseball. Cal gave me a scholarship.”
That was where he and Ryan had met. At Berkeley, where they’d both played baseball. “And Kate followed you there.”
He shook his head and nodded at her sweatshirt. “She went to Stanford. As she explained it, Stanford had the better geology program.”
“Do they?”
Mitch shrugged again. “Both programs are ranked in the top ten nationally. But no, they don’t.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Simone’s lips. Not because they were making small talk, but because she remembered the dozens of times she’d heard Mitch and Kate bickering about geology. Kate loved to razz Mitch about the fact he wasn’t doing important work shackled to an oil-and-gas company. And he loved to point out the world’s economy would come to a screaming standstill if people like him weren’t doing their jobs.
Appetite satiated, Simone pushed her plate back and leaned her forearms on the table as she looked past Mitch toward the view of the lake. It was just as beautiful downstairs as it had been from her room. The house was situated in such a way that all you could see were the trees and beach and lake… Not another house or person unless you specifically looked.
“Have you heard anything from Ryan?” she asked.
“No. He said it would be a few days.”
Simone knew that, but part of her had been hoping for news already. She felt helpless sitting here, doing nothing.
“I talked to Shannon this morning.”
Simone’s gaze snapped to Mitch. “You did?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Does that bother you?”
“No.” Did it? Yeah, okay, it did. A little.
“She called my cell around eight. You didn’t answer yours.”
Simone closed her eyes briefly. No, at eight a.m. she’d been sound asleep because she’d been awake the whole night thinking about the man next to her. “Is she okay?”
Mitch reached for his coffee. “She’s fine. They were getting ready to head to the boat. Said she’d call later.”
Simone nodded. Ryan’s parents had taken the kids to Hawaii, and they’d rented a boat, which they were going to sail around the islands until it was time to come home or until Simone went to get her. Simone had been against the plan until she’d found out what a seasoned captain Ryan’s father was—he owned his own marina up in Puget Sound—but she still worried. It was her job as a mother to worry.
“So I have a proposal,” Mitch said, his strong, familiar voice cutting through her crazy thoughts.
Cautiously, she looked his way. She couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t look especially happy, but he didn’t look pissed either, as he had the night his house had been shot up. “What kind of proposal?”
Thoughts of Ford’s comment from last night flashed through her mind, warming her skin in a way she didn’t expect.
He set his mug down and leaned his forearms on the scuffed wood table. “We’re stuck here together for a few days. The way
I see it, we have two options. We can go on ignoring each other and both be miserable the entire time, or we can make the best of it.”
She wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “What do you mean by ‘make the best of it’?”
“I mean…I think we should forget about everything that happened before this morning and start over.”
Start over? Was he serious? Simone’s brow dropped even lower. How could they possibly start over after everything that had happened between them? Why would he even want to? Conflicting thoughts flashed in her brain, followed by a warmth in her stomach she didn’t want to feel.
Mitch frowned. “I’ve obviously confused you. I meant start over as friends. And if not that…then at least not enemies. I don’t want to spend the next few days fighting with you or ignoring you. We got along once without the romantic stuff. I think we could do it again. At least for a couple of days, if we tried. What do you think?”
That warmth went ice cold, and her stomach rolled all over again, but this time not from hunger. This time the pain was from knowing everything between them was truly over for good.
Which was the best thing all around, she reminded herself. The sooner he got away from her, the better off he’d be.
She lifted her shoulders and straightened her spine, telling herself this was the only way it could be. Even if they could somehow fix things between them—and that was a big if, considering everything that had happened—honestly, she wasn’t sure her heart could take another blow like the last.
“Yeah,” she managed. “I think we could do that.”
His smile widened. Not a heated smile. Not a come-get-me smile like she’d seen on his lips so many times before. But a friendly, I’m-making-the-best-of-it smile. One that made her feel even worse than before.
He pushed his chair back and reached for the plates. “Good. Why don’t you go get dressed, and I’ll clean up the kitchen. Then we can decide what we’re going to do with the rest of the day.”
Simone nodded and rose from the table. But as she made her way for the stairs, she couldn’t help but feel as if something inside had died. Something that had come to life the day Mitch Mathews had barreled into her life. Something she was sure she’d never find again.