No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(42)

He liked her. She seemed nice, and he hadn’t had enough nice people in his life.

“I don’t remember Lolita serving pie like this when I lived here before,” he called up the stairs. He was hoping to hear a few words from Sadie, achieve some assurance that they could just move on, but she didn’t answer.

When he finished, he put the empty plate in the sink and went up to make sure she wasn’t crying. His bedroom was already spotless. He poked his head in there before he found her wearing her own blouse again while cleaning Angela’s room. “I’m not sure if you heard me, but I said the pie was really good.” He stopped short of entering the room, preferred to stand in the doorway. “Thanks for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome.” She kept her face averted and continued working so he couldn’t get a bead on what she was feeling.

He leaned against the doorjamb. “Tasted homemade.”

“It was.” She still had her back to him, was busy putting clean linens on the bed.

He didn’t have anything else to say, and he needed to get back to work, but he was reluctant to go. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“I was planning to make beef Stroganoff. Do you like that?”

This achieved a glance, but he couldn’t hold her gaze. “Don’t know that I’ve ever had it.”

“It’s good. Noodles, ground beef and mushrooms in a delicious gravy.”

“Sounds good. Anyway, I trust you. I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve served so far.”

Once the bed was made, she straightened—and finally faced him. “Are you hungry now?”

She hadn’t been crying, but something had changed. She was no longer open to him, had the same guarded look in her eyes she’d had when they first met and she’d been so frightened of who and what he might be.

“Not yet,” he said. “That pie was delicious, though.”

“Do you want me to go get you some more?”

She obviously couldn’t figure out why he was inside talking to her and not out working, like usual—had no idea that he felt terrible for insulting her. “Not today. Maybe another time.”

“Okay.”

“How much do I owe you for this piece?” She’d had to spend some money to get it for him, hadn’t she?

She bent to plug in the vacuum. “Nothing. Wasn’t much.”

When he didn’t leave, she hesitated. “Is there something else?”

“No.” Resigned, he shoved off the lintel so he could go but stopped immediately. “Just so you know, I didn’t mind that you were wearing my shirt. I have a lot of old Tshirts. You can borrow one whenever.”

“That’s okay. I have this. I just...didn’t want to get it dirty.”

“I can see why. It’s pretty.”

“Thanks,” she said, but curtly and in such an off-handed tone that he could tell she’d deemed the compliment insincere. She believed what he’d told her earlier—that she looked like a teenager and was therefore unattractive to him—and had slammed the door on future signals that might contradict that statement.

“What I said about your weight a few minutes ago was...rude,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

She lifted a hand. “I’m not offended. I know I’m too skinny.”

He offered her an apologetic smile. “I wouldn’t go that far. You’re on the thin side, but you have gorgeous legs.”

“Thanks.”

He’d meant what he said, but this compliment met with the same disbelief that’d caused the demise of the first.

“Have you heard from Sly?” he asked.

She gathered a handful of the electrical cord in anticipation of starting to vacuum. “Not yet. But I’m sure he’ll call or text me soon. He never stays away for long. Why?”

“I don’t want him to cause you any trouble.”

“He’s my problem. I’ll take care of...whatever happens.”

He was afraid she wouldn’t be able to take care of it. How could a 105-pound woman ever fend off a man Sly’s size? Dawson hadn’t weighed 105 pounds since elementary school... “Hopefully, he’s not as bad as he seems.”

“Like most people, he’s got his good points.” She would’ve been hard-pressed to come up with what those were, given how she’d been feeling about him lately. Fortunately, Dawson didn’t ask.

“I suppose so,” he said. “Well, I’d better get back to work.”

“Don’t forget to take out some more water,” she said, and he heard the vacuum go on as he descended the stairs.

Once he reached the main floor, Dawson stood there for several minutes. He still felt bad about being so rude earlier, wished he could go back up and fix what he’d broken. Sadie had thrown up a wall to shield the soft, vulnerable part of her she’d started to show him before.

But maybe that was for the best. They both had enough going on in their lives. They didn’t need to complicate anything by getting too close to one another.

*

Sadie said very little when she served dinner, and this time she didn’t eat.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Dawson asked as he watched her pack up for the day.