Thick as Thieves(16)

She blurted out, “I’m thinking of getting a dog.”

He crouched near a wall, ran his fingers along the cracked baseboard, scraped at its peeling paint with his thumbnail. “You don’t have an alarm system; if all your locks are like this one, they’re useless; and you live out here by yourself. Do you have a weapon?”

“Weapon?”

“A gun.”

“No.”

“Then I’d say a guard dog is a good idea.”

“I don’t want a guard dog. I want a pet to keep me company.”

He stood up slowly and started walking toward her, dusting his hands together as he came. When he got to within a couple of feet of her, he stopped. “I wouldn’t think you’d lack for company.” Then, “Let’s go upstairs.”

A sensation purled through her midsection.

But if she’d read a hidden invitation into his statement, she was mistaken. There wasn’t any guile in his eyes, nor a trace of suggestiveness in his tone when he added, “I need to see the layout of the rooms.”

“Of course.” She turned away and started up the stairs, him following. She wished she’d dressed in her baggy jeans.

But if he’d taken notice of any aspect of her appearance, he didn’t act as though he had. As she showed him from one room to the next, he was scrupulously professional and businesslike. He asked pertinent questions, pointed out problem spots, and offered suggestions on how to remedy them.

“See how the floor is buckled? You have a roof leak. Rain’s getting in and running down inside the walls.”

He frowned as he assessed the fixtures in both bathrooms. “I’d bet these look good compared to the pipes.”

“One of the other contractors I interviewed foretold of a plumbing disaster.”

“No argument from me.”

In her old bedroom, he surveyed the ceiling. “Careful. That light fixture is barely holding on.” He curved his hand around the side of her waist and moved her from beneath it.

“Thanks,” she said, trying not to sound flustered.

He removed his hand a bit more slowly than necessary to save her from potential injury. Still looking down at her, he said, “I think I’ve seen all I need to.”

When they returned to the landing, he paused and, with his hands on his hips, looked back down the long hallway. He studied it for a time, then, as though talking to himself, said, “It has possibilities.”

He pondered for a moment longer, then turned and motioned that she should precede him downstairs. When they got to the first floor, he struck off for the kitchen. Once there, he took only a cursory look around, as though the outmoded appliances and cabinetry didn’t warrant a more thorough inspection.

“What’s in here?”

“That’s where I—”

She stopped because he had already drawn up short on the threshold of the catch-all room. She hadn’t yet tidied up when he arrived. The unmade bed and her nightgown, which she’d left lying on it when she went to shower, made it evident that this was where she’d slept. It was a private space, not intended for anyone else’s eyes.

Especially not his.

Feeling as though more of her had been exposed than her bed, she wanted to edge around him and jerk the bedspread up for concealment. Instead, she pretended to be unaffected and offered him coffee, hoping he would decline.

Still looking into the room, his back to her, he said, “Yeah. Thanks.”

The one modern appliance she had bought since moving in was a coffee machine that made various brews. Sensing that he had turned back into the kitchen, she asked if he had a preference.

“Nothing fancy. Just black coffee.”

She tipped her head toward the table. “Have a seat.”

He didn’t sit. He crowded in beside her at the counter to look out the window above the sink. He had to duck slightly. “That cypress grove blocks any view of the lake. Ever thought of thinning it out?”

“It’s so far from the house, I hadn’t given it any thought at all.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing. How much acreage do you have?”

“Nothing significant. Twenty maybe?”

“Some would consider that significant.”

She didn’t see that the size of the property had relevance, but he seemed to make a mental note of it, then walked over to the back door and tested the lock as he had on the front door. It rattled when he jiggled it. He muttered something, but Arden didn’t catch what he said. He pulled open the door and looked out.

“Anything in the garage?”

It was detached from the house. A few days after moving back, she’d looked inside it, but, as remembered, it had been cleaned out. “Lisa and I had no use for tools, the lawn mower, and such. She either sold or donated everything.” She didn’t say, Including Dad’s car. Arden had cried when the new owner drove away in it.

She carried two mugs of coffee to the table. He joined her there. She had never considered the chairs around the table as being too small until he sat down in the one across from her. She remembered being struck by the proportions of the rocking chair on his front porch.

He didn’t use the handle on the coffee mug, but picked it up by placing his fingers around the rim. He sipped from it between his thumb and index finger. All this without taking his eyes off her.