She faced him, hands on hips with pursed lips. “You’re more than welcome to leave.”
“Nope. We’ll watch your girlie chick flicks. Even though personally I thought you were more into movies like Bad Boys and Beverly Hills Cop.”
“I am, but sometimes I need to escape from my real life and watch something out of my norm like Breakfast at Tiffany’s.”
“I’ve seen it once with my mom years ago. It’s her favorite movie and store. Dad buys her something from there all the time. In fact, so do I,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Usually for Mother’s Day.”
For a moment, she’d forgotten about his rich-boy lifestyle. For just a moment, he was a regular guy, not a millionaire standing on her hardwood floor in her 1,500-square-foot house, wearing an Armani suit and a Ralph Lauren trench coat. Not to mention a watch that probably cost three times more than her yearly salary.
He stared at her intently and stepped closer. She thought surely he was going to kiss her again, but instead, the fire in his eyes was erased, and a relaxed, lazy smile appeared on his face. “I kinda like Cary Grant. He had a certain cool swagger to him.”
Bryce tossed his bag on the floor and pulled his overcoat closer to his body. She hadn’t been home in almost two days, and she’d forgotten to leave on the heat. Sydney moved to the panel on the opposite wall and slid the thermostat into the on position, setting the heat to a comfortable temperature.
He followed her through the foyer to the living area, and she noticed her mail in a basket on the coffee table. Apparently, the cleaning lady had come that morning, as she always did on Fridays. She sat the roses next to the mail. She’d have to tend to both later. Right now she needed to be alone. Away from him.
“The guestroom is through there.” She pointed to a door adjacent to the living area. “It has a full bathroom, and the kitchen is the next room over. Look on the fridge and call the pizza joint around the corner. They will deliver. Put your car in the garage. It’s going to be below forty degrees, and I doubt your Benz has ever slept outside. I’m going to take a shower.”
Sydney trekked away from him, straight down the hallway on the other side of the living area that led to her office and the master bedroom. She closed the door to her room, flicked on the light switch, threw off her clothes and left them where they’d landed. Grabbing her cordless phone from her nightstand, she dialed her twin’s cell phone number.
Megan picked up on the first ring. “Are you home?” she asked with a hurried anxiousness.
“Yes, and thanks to you I have company.” Sydney yanked the shower curtain back and turned on the faucet.
“Bryce?” Megan asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes, Bryce,” she whispered into the phone. “The man I can’t stand is staying here tonight because the doctor said I needed to be watched over for the next twelve hours just in case I have a minor concussion. Even though I don’t.” Sydney opened the linen closet and snatched a towel and washcloth from the stack. She glanced at her reflection in the vanity mirror to see a condescending expression on her face. Goodness. Is this how I’ve been looking at him?
“Oh...”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say? While I’m happy you didn’t call Mom and Dad, why couldn’t you call Tiffani?” Tiffani Chase-Lake was their first cousin even though she was more like an older sister.
“I thought about that, but KJ has swim class...or is it tae kwon do this evening? I don’t know. His schedule is busier than mine, and he’s only seven.” Megan laughed but stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry, sissy. Just try to suck it up. I really hate for you to be alone, and Bryce is a good guy once you get to know him.”
Sydney grabbed her brush and a few hairpins to wrap her hair, laying the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could use both hands. “He’s been pleasant and concerned, but more so for your peace of mind.”
She thought about their kiss. Their freakin’ passionate kiss that sent a shiver through her at the mere thought, but she wasn’t going to indulge that information. There was no need. It wouldn’t happen again, and she didn’t want Megan excited with romantic, whimsical thoughts of something more happening between them.
“That’s good. Bryce is very family-oriented.”
“I know. I’m going to take a shower and put on some sweats. Bryce is ordering a pizza—I’m starved.” Sydney wrapped her hair in a scarf and tucked in a few strays underneath. “I haven’t eaten since my coffee and bagel breakfast.”
“That’s your problem. You forget to eat, and when you do, its junk food from the vending machines at headquarters or some greasy fast-food place nearby. Do you at least have some veggies or salad fixings in the fridge?”
“Yes. I went to the DeKalb’s Farmer’s Market on Tuesday right before I went in to work. I’ll eat some raw carrots and broccoli, dipped in ranch salad dressing of course.”
Megan huffed. “Of course,” she said sarcastically. “I’ve heard your shower run long enough. Get in it and don’t keep your company waiting.”
“Yes, sissy. And don’t keep the senator waiting,” Sydney answered in a singsong tone.
The sisters laughed and said their goodbyes.
Sydney placed her plastic cap on and hopped into the shower. It was the ideal temperature, and she let the soothing water cascade down her tired body as she thought about her current situation. The man she loved to hate was in her house to take care of her for the evening. So far she’d done a very good job of keeping him at a safe distance, minus that kiss. She cringed. She had to get that kiss out of her head, but it was no use. Every time she looked at his luscious juicy lips surrounded by that neatly trimmed goatee, she was reminded of how his warmth had engulfed her, how he’d tasted her with tantalizing strokes like an artist’s paintbrush. The tiny prickles of his facial hair had rubbed against her skin in a soothing way. She’d never cared for a lot of hair on a man’s face, but it suited Bryce, making him even more handsome and charismatic. She’d seen him a few times with it shaven and was never impressed. The hair on his head was low-cut with soft curls even though sometimes he let it grow out into a short, curly fro.
I can’t believe this is happening, she thought as she dried off from her refreshing shower. This has to be a cruel joke. I’m spending Valentine’s Day with the man I despise.
* * *
Sydney emerged from her bedroom, relaxed in a pair of GBI gray sweats, to the smell of something quite delicious. It wasn’t pizza. Upon entering the living room, her eyes zeroed in on the roses now standing in the vase on the mantel above the lit fireplace. Frowning at the romantic scene, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had flowers in her home. They added a pleasant touch to the room that she barely used. Her nose guided her to the aromas floating from the kitchen. There were chopped red and yellow bell peppers on the cutting board next to the stove along with onions, carrots, broccoli and cauliflower. Bryce stood over a huge frying pan stirring and tossing the rest of the vegetables in.
“You’re cooking?” she asked.
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes roaming over her attire down to her fuzzy pink socks. “Yep. I was going to order pizza but then
