Cal got out of his car and came up to hers; when she opened the back and got her back, he held out a hand, eyebrows up—not taking it, just offering to carry it.
Slowly, she handed it over. He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Thanks.”
Thanking her for the opportunity to help her. It was so—strange.
He led her up to the house, unlocking the door and showing her in.
It was a beautiful, beautiful building. So much rich wood everywhere, an open-plan space with a nice-looking full kitchen, an area in front of the fireplace with a soft couch, and stairs leading up to a second floor.
“I’ve got a small guest room through there,” Cal said, pointing to a door at the far end. “I sleep upstairs, so you’ll have plenty of privacy. The bathroom’s right there.” Another small door.
He led her through to the guest room, which was very simply-appointed: a small bed, a little end table, a wooden chair.
“Sorry it’s not nicer,” Cal said quietly. “I’ve always lived here alone, I don’t know much about decorating or anything like that. Keep on meaning to figure out how to spruce the whole place up a little, get some pictures on the wall or something, but it never really happens.”
“It’s absolutely fine,” Lillian said, setting the bag down. “And it wouldn’t take much—the place is already beautiful. All of this wood!”
Cal nodded. “The building’s fantastic. Solidly built, excellent construction, it’ll last forever. And I like the look of it. There’s just no finishing touches, really.”
Lillian followed him back out to the main area and sent a practiced eye around. Typical for a man—the basics of furniture were all there, but there were no accents. “It’d be easy to make it look more finished,” she told him. “Some rugs, some throw pillows, a nice photograph or two on the walls...maybe some plants.”
Cal grinned. “Maybe I should hire you as my interior designer, then.”
Lillian laughed a little. “Oh, no. I’m just parroting Pinterest back at you, that’s all.”
“Well, I don’t even know what that is, so you’re definitely a step ahead of me,” he countered.
“It’s a pretty frivolous website,” Lillian admitted. “All décor and style and silly things. Not something I’d expect most men to care much about.”
“Hey,” Cal said. “Just because it’s a site for women doesn’t make it silly. I just said I wished I knew how to do all this stuff. Being a bachelor, it means you lose out on the sort of things women learn how to do. Having a decent-looking house isn’t a frivolous thing.”
“No, I suppose not,” Lillian said slowly. She wondered if that meant Cal...regretted being a bachelor. Was he looking for someone now?
No, that was reaching. He hadn’t said he wanted a relationship at all, just that he wished he knew some of the things women were educated in. That was practically the opposite of wanting a relationship. Besides, everything about this solid little house in the woods screamed self-sufficient anyway.
“So,” Cal said, interrupting her thoughts, “it’s getting to be around lunchtime. Are you hungry?”
Twenty minutes ago, Lillian could’ve sworn she was too tense to ever be hungry again, but now she suddenly found that she was ravenous. “Yes,” she said, surprised.
“Good,” he said with a smile. “I like to cook, but I hardly ever get anyone other than myself out here to do it for.”
See, Lillian told herself, he’s saying he doesn’t date. He’s happy to be single.
“So why don’t you go get yourself settled in, and I’ll put something together for lunch?”
Lillian caught up with what he was saying. “Wait,” she said. “I’m imposing on your hospitality enough already. You shouldn’t have to wait on me as well.”
“Absolutely not,” Cal said with conviction. “You’re a guest in my home. I’m not letting you cook for yourself. Anyway, I have to eat lunch, too, so I might as well make it for two.”
Well, she couldn’t really argue with that logic, although it felt unnatural to go off to the guest room while someone else cooked for her. At home, Lillian did most of the cooking, since neither of her parents were very good at it.
Which some people might have objected to, but Lillian found that she appreciated the half-hour or more she got alone in the kitchen; her mother usually took that time to watch TV, so it was a welcome break to spend by herself.
But now she got a break while someone else cooked for her. It was very strange.
Lillian took advantage of it, though; she spent a few minutes unpacking her things and putting them in the tiny closet in the guest room, and then just took a few deep breaths. Everything had happened so fast, and now she was in this man’s home, trusting him to protect her from danger.
But she did trust him. That was the strangest part. She felt absolutely confident in Cal’s sincerity, as well as his ability to keep her from getting hurt.