Is he... flirting? Ellie wondered. Then, with some disappointment, she concluded, Can’t be. He must just mean he’s not a sexist pig.
Which is also good, she hastily told herself. It would be awful having to be with him constantly if he didn’t respect me and I didn’t like him.
To distract herself from the sad reality that Hal would never flirt with her, she looked through the other books he’d left scattered on the sofa. Homicide Special, nonfiction about Los Angeles homicide detectives. Three Parts Dead, a fantasy novel about a sorcerer hired to resurrect a dead God. Cash: The Autobiography, by Johnny Cash.
“Is this what you do instead of watching TV?” Ellie passed the stack to him. “Or is it in the bedroom?”
Hal put the books back on the shelves. “No. I grew up in the country. My family was kind of... back to nature. We didn’t have a TV, so I never really got in the habit. What about you? Are you a book person or a TV person?”
“I’m about 50-50.” Examining his bookcases, she added, “We like some of the same books, though. I’m really into mysteries and thrillers. Especially romantic suspense. Gunfights and kissing, my favorite things.”
“Mine too,” remarked Hal.
Flirting? Ellie thought again. I... think so?
But lots of people were just flirtatious in general. It didn’t mean they were flirting specifically with the person they were with, or that they had any intention of doing anything about it.
Trying to figure it out made her tired. She couldn’t suppress a jaw-cracking yawn.
“You must be exhausted,” Hal said. “And I know the food at the police station sucks. What did they give you, burned coffee and a processed cheese sandwich?”
“Processed cheese, wilted lettuce, and mystery meat. And a bag of chips.”
“They’ve gotten better, then. They didn’t used to provide chips.”
Ellie laughed. Despite the weirdness of her bodyguard taking her to his own house, which couldn’t possibly be standard procedure, she felt more relaxed now that she was there. “I really like your place. It’s so cozy.”
Hal stopped arranging the books and turned toward her. “I’m glad. I want you to feel at home here. Now, would you rather go straight to bed, or would you rather have something to eat first?”
“It’s a tough decision, but if I don’t eat first, I’ll wake up starving in the middle of the night.”
“Then have a seat. I’ll make you something.” He indicated the sofa, then headed into the open kitchen.
She couldn’t help noticing how well he filled out his pants as he walked away from her. Since he had his back to her, she took the opportunity to enjoy the sight of his ass and legs, not to mention his broad shoulders and huge biceps.
Look, but don’t touch, she reminded herself.
If there was one thing that could make her life even more horrendous than it already was, it would be having sex with her bodyguard, followed by the inevitable messy break-up, followed by being joined at the hip to her new ex-boyfriend for God knows how long. Just the thought of that made her tired. More tired.
She sank down on the sofa. It was as soft as it looked, inviting her to lean back her head and nap. She had to force herself to keep her eyes open. At least she had something entertaining as a distraction.
“Is there anything you don’t like?” Hal called. “Mushrooms? Bacon?”
“I love mushrooms and bacon,” she called back.
Watching Hal cook, she realized that his kitchen was messy because he actually used it. He chopped vegetables with terrifying speed and a very large knife, grabbed spice jars from a rack without consulting a cookbook, and flipped the contents of a frying pan without spilling a single bit of whatever it was he was cooking. Ellie’s stomach rumbled embarrassingly as the smells of frying eggs, potatoes, and bacon filled the room.
She was impressed that he could cook, and more impressed that he was willing to cook for a client. That couldn’t possibly be part of the job description. Well, she’d enjoy it as a “Welcome to Witnessing” gift. Her own cooking was limited to taking off the plastic wrapper before she stuck something frozen in the microwave.
She must have dozed off for a moment, because the next thing she knew, Hal was setting a tray table in front of her.
“Oh—” Ellie looked at the feast laid out in front of her. He’d made her an omelet, country-style potatoes, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. “This is exactly what I’d have ordered if I’d gone to a restaurant. How did you know?”
He settled down beside her with his own tray table full of breakfast-for-lunch, the same as hers with the addition of a mug of coffee. “It’s what I’d have wanted if I’d gone through what you did. Comfort food.”
Ellie dug in. As soon as she tasted the food, she was as impressed with his cooking skills as she was with his thoughtfulness. The potatoes were crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, the bacon was at the exact sweet spot between crispy and chewy, the omelet was stuffed with melted cheese and mushrooms, and the orange juice was fresh squeezed.
“Where’d you learn to cook like this?” she asked.