Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club, #1)(25)

“Wow. I guess that will come in handy, what with all the people living here now.”

I definitely needed the drink. It wasn’t Everly’s attempt at conversation that had me reaching for the bottle of Scotch in the cupboard. Seeing her in my kitchen, dressed in comfortable clothes, was almost as disconcerting as seeing her in that red dress had been.

“Sorry, I guess you don’t want to be bothered. I’ll just go…” She made a vague motion over her shoulder toward the other room.

“You’re not… bothering me.” Why I was suddenly worried about her feelings, I had no idea. But I didn’t want to hurt them. “Let me show you around.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

I went to pour my drink, but paused. “Would you like one?”

“Oh my god, yes.”

Her quick reply almost made me crack a smile. The corner of my mouth twitched. I poured us both a drink and handed one to her.

“Thanks.”

The movers came in, dragging suitcases and another box. How much stuff had she brought? They took it past us, down the hall toward the bedroom.

“Living room,” I said, gesturing. “There’s a TV there. I don’t use it much, but you’re welcome to it. The second master suite is down that hall. My father moved in over the weekend, so he’s occupying that space.”

“Got it.”

I pointed out the other obvious things. Guest bath. My office. Balcony. Then I walked her back to my—what was, for now, our—bedroom.

The movers had put her things in a corner. She stepped inside, shifting on her feet as if nervous.

“So… okay. This is nice.”

My gaze strayed to the bed. I’d toyed with the notion of having her sleep in another room. But if we were going to pretend to be a couple, it was going to require bed sharing.

“We’re both adults, and the bed is a king,” I said, giving her the same speech I’d given myself several times. “There’s another bathroom if you need more privacy. I’ll respect your space; you don’t have to worry about anything.”

“If I was worried about you, I wouldn’t have agreed to this,” she said. “I trust you.”

I wasn’t sure why—any more than I understood why I was concerned about her feelings—but hearing her say she trusted me felt good.

“I guess I’ll let you get settled.”

One of the movers poked his head through the open door. “Miss Dalton?”

She gave him a warm smile. “Jason, I told you, call me Everly.”

“Okay, Everly. Where should we put this?”

From where I was standing, I couldn’t see what he was referring to.

Everly glanced around the room. “Hmm. Not in here. The living room, I think.”

“Sure thing,” he said.

She went out to the other room behind him. I took a sip of my Scotch, then headed for my office. I had work to do. But the sudden laughter from the living room made me curious. What were they laughing about now?

“Dominic, you kill me,” Everly said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“We got everything,” one of the movers—Dominic, apparently—said. “Is there anything else we can do to help?”

“I think that’s it,” Everly said. “You guys have been so great. Thank you. Bring it in.”

She opened her arms and the two men both hugged her. I watched from the hallway, oddly fascinated. She walked them out and hugged them again, as if they were old friends.

“Well, that’s a wrap.” She shut the door behind them.

I leaned against the wall. “Friends of yours?”

“Who, Dominic and Jason? No. They were just the guys I hired to help. Not that I really needed it. I didn’t bring over anything heavy. Why?”

“It just seemed like you knew them.”

“No, but they were hilarious. Such fun guys.” She glanced around, putting a finger to her lips. “Where did I leave my drink? Oh, there.”

I followed the direction she pointed and a large yellow something—I wasn’t sure what it was—in my living room caught my eye.

“What is that?”

“Hmm?” She walked over and picked up her drink. “This? Oh, it’s my bean bag chair.”

“You brought a bean bag chair? And you’re putting it in my living room?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s comfortable, and a great place to read, and my favorite color.”

I glanced at it again, a big yellow blob sitting among my carefully chosen furniture. “It’s fuzzy. And yellow.”

“That’s very observant of you, Shep.”

My gaze snapped to her.

“Okay, sorry. Just trying to… Never mind. Is it really going to bother you? You already said you don’t use this room very much. And a real girlfriend would put her stamp on the place. I need to spread out. Mark my territory. It’s part of the ruse.”

It was hideous, but that did make sense. “Fair enough. But how much territory marking is going to be necessary?”

The sound of the front door opening followed by Svetlana’s tinkling laugh made the muscles in my back and shoulders clench. Everly met my eyes, hers narrowing slightly. The look of determination on her face lit a fire inside me. It was on.