He looks genuinely surprised. “You volunteer there?”
I nod. “We’re organizing a Christmas lunch for local foster kids and their caretakers. I’m helping organize it.”
I wait for the questions. Why that charity? Did I grow up in foster care?
But they don’t come. Instead, Kray looks impressed, and the smirk he’s had on his face the entire time he’s been here is gone for once.
“That’s great work you’re doing,” he says softly. “Do you need some extra help?”
“No,” I say firmly. The last thing I need is Kray hanging about and distracting me when there’s still so much to do.
“Okay.” He holds his hands up. “But I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home.”
He says it firmly like there’s no argument.
I know it will be an intense few hours with no time to grab anything to eat, and the thought of coming home to a cooked meal is tempting.
“Fine.” I snatch my keys up before I remember my manners. “Thank you.”
He smiles, but I head out the door before he can say anything else.
If Kray wants to cook me a meal, I won’t say no, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with him.
6
KRAY
As soon a Cleo’s out the door, I head to the kitchen. I love to cook, and my mother’s Italian meatball recipe is my favorite. I went to the supermarket earlier to pick up the ingredients, banking on Cleo agreeing to eat with me.
I get to work on the sauce. It takes a few hours to really marinate to get the flavors, so I leave it bubbling on the stove top while I pull out the other things I picked up from the shops.
It was the only Christmas tree I could find this close to Christmas. It’s a small artificial one, but this apartment’s bare. I love my brother’s low-key ascetic taste, but sometimes you want a bit of color, a bit of festiveness. And I get the feeling Cleo could do with some festivity in her life.
Cleo’s got this tough-girl persona, but I wonder what it’s hiding. I want to spoil Cleo with good homemade food, wrap her in my arms, and tell her that whatever it is, she’s got me now. But I get the feeling she’d run a mile if I told her how I feel, that she’s mine and I’ll always look after her.
I need to take it slow. I need to build up her trust, and we need to get to know each other. I have to let her realize we’re meant to be together the way I know it in my heart.
It’s a few hours later when I hear the door open. I can feel the cold air from here as it blasts into the apartment. Then I hear Cleo’s intake of breath as she sees the decorations. I smile to myself. It’s exactly the reaction I wanted.
I strung a row of fairy lights from the front entrance all the way into the living room. She comes around the corner and drops her purse by the couch.
“What’s all this?” she asks, taking in the tree with ornaments and lights.
“Thought I’d make the place more Christmassy since we’ll be spending Christmas here.”
She eyes me suspiciously, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes and I can tell she’s pleased.
“I thought you were driving back soon?”
I shrug. “The bike needs some repairs and that snowstorm…” We both look out the window because the clouds keep getting lower and darker but never seem to burst. Not that we can see them now. It’s after dark and all we see are the lights of the town and the decorations from the square twinkling in the darkness.
“Do you drink red or white wine?”
I move into the kitchen and grab two wine glasses from the cupboard. She leans her elbows on the kitchen counter and watches me.
“Red.”
“Red it is.” I pour two glasses, and she sips hers tentatively. Her dark red lipstick comes off on the glass, leaving a lip-shaped smudge.