We made it to the register, and I glanced at his license, catching the name Norouzi.

  “You’ll be great, Kerry. It’s why I asked for your help. I have a good feeling about you.”

  His last name was vaguely familiar, but I brushed it off. It would have been rude to mention I’d read over his shoulder. “That’s one of us, then. I can only hope you’re right.”

  He took the bags from me to carry. On our way out, he said, “Step one is believing in yourself. Everything else happens fast.”

  When we made it to the truck, he opened my door for me, and I didn’t argue.

  A country song played about trusting after being hurt, and I listened as goose bumps grew on my arms. I’d never once thought I would go near another man, but Warren was nothing like Romeo.

  As we parked, I glanced up at him. He was sexy and muscular and made me feel safe. We walked up the stairs then slipped into the small apartment. As he closed the door, he said, “We’re home.”

  I patted his shoulder like we were still just friends. “We are. I’ll heat up dinner.”

  He shook his head and cut me off. “Thank you. I want to set up the computer, but afterwards, we can talk about my skills and the sites I’m using to book myself some jobs.”

  Right. Work. We were a team, and I wasn’t only a cook and cleaner in my house. I smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

  However, as I opened the box and glanced at Warren in the kitchen, I wished my life was different and free because I wondered what his kiss might taste like.

  8

  Kerry

  Warren went to work, and I scheduled jobs for the month. I also created a Facebook page and found YouTube tutorials that walked me through how to build a website. A website was like a business card, so he needed one so his—our—business could build a presence, but I needed to build up some skills first.

  I wrote out my schedule, as there was too much to do in a day. The action plan for the week took shape, and the morning dissipated fast. As lunch approached, I left the scrap of paper with my doodles under the laptop to grab first thing in the morning.

  Then I finished my carafe of coffee and stood as I heard the door unlock. My lips curved upwards as I saw his broad shoulders in the doorway. “You’re home early.”

  He nodded and smiled as he closed the door behind him. “I finished all the jobs before lunch. I couldn’t wait to get back here.”

  My heart thundered that he’d wanted to be with me. The sense was new, and I laughed it off as I pointed at our bare walls. “To our palace.”

  He left his shoes and came toward me. “I’d build you a palace.”

  The nicer the home, the bigger the prison, and it hit me that maybe I shouldn’t let myself get comfortable. “I’m sure you could. In this dream, I want a huge galley kitchen with tons of cabinets and ovens for specific purposes.”

  He laughed. “Sounds good. I would want my wife and children to be home and secure.”

  My entire body stilled. For one second, I imagined him coming home to a nicer house and me with two children at my feet, coloring and laughing in the kitchen. I blinked, and the image disappeared, but I folded my hands around myself. “You want a wife and children?”

  He shrugged. “At least two. I can’t imagine what growing up alone is like.”

  I cringed. It was as if he saw straight to my core and how empty my life was. “It sucks. No one spoke to me.”

  He took my hand, and sparks flew. “Ouch. We had a large home growing up, but when we stayed in our Manhattan home, we were all piled into an apartment and practically tripping over each other all the time.”

  His family was everything to him. I sighed. “Sounds heavenly.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t hear Jeff snoring.”

  I took my hand back. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “The walls shake. If he ever does get married, I feel for his future wife.”

  Getting along with Warren was so easy. I shrugged one shoulder. “She could buy earplugs.”

  I closed the laptop behind me as he asked, “What about you? Once you’re free, do you see yourself married or with children?”

  My heart thumped. If it wasn’t Warren asking, I would have scoffed and said no children, ever. The image rattled me, but I pointed him to the bedroom and en suite bathroom. “We’ll talk more after you get a shower.”

  He winked. “You’re bossy, but I like that in you.”

  He was gone for a few minutes. I washed the coffee pot and cup. Then I perused our options for lunch. He’d worked hard all morning, and I wished we had more healthy options.

  I grabbed the cheese to grate it and make tacos. My heart whispered. I wanted him to enjoy the dishes because I liked him.

  More than liked him. My shoulders slumped. Falling for him was a bad idea. And living and working together made the idea of being with a stable, sweet, and sexy man seem real.

  He came out of the shower, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts but with drops of water on the ends of his reddish-blond locks. He smiled, and steam rushed through my veins.

  I stared at the frying pan. “So I’ve been debating about getting my own place.”

  He came closer, and my skin jumped in awareness. “We’re doing fine together.”

  I knew I could fall in love with him, and the thought made my body cold. Love had never been an option for me. I rubbed the back of my neck and said, “I hate that you’re sleeping on the floor.”

  He placed his hand on my side and reached for the cheese grater. “I’m on the couch.”

  I hated that I was so emotional and unsure. As a child, my parents always complimented me when I was with the right people more than they did if I did anything. No one had ever wanted to hear about anything I’d done, including my grades. And as an adult, I’d spent my life being afraid of disappointing anyone. Warren wasn’t like any of them, and I was confused. I swallowed. “It’s not big enough for you, and I don’t sleep with earplugs. You rolled off last night.”

  He placed his hand on mine. “Don’t worry about it. I want you here.”

  I lowered my head. “I’m not used to such close quarters.”

  He took the pan out of my other hand and held me. “Do you not like being here?”

  More than I should have. I was a walking disaster. My heart beat faster, and I glanced up at him and knew I wouldn’t let my doubts stop the best thing I had in my life. “The apartment is small, but the company is the best.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “So what does that mean?”

  “I’ll stay.” I smiled. Next, I would prove to him that he’d made the right choice in taking me on. I would be the best business partner he could ever imagine.

  His phone beeped, and I saw a picture of a dark-haired, dark-eyed man who could have been a movie star. “Just in time,” Warren said. “Let me speak to my brother Gerard for a moment.”

  Lucky for me, Warren was a sweetheart and not untouchable. I found the onion and a pepper to chop as he spoke on the phone. After he hung up, he went back to grating the cheese without a word. I brushed my shoulder against his arm and asked, “How was he?”

  “He’s thinking about quitting his job too.”

  I paused. Warren’s family was important to him. “What does he do?”

  “He… works at an oil company.”

  The pause made me blink, but I didn’t ask. “That sounds demanding.”

  He finished with the cheese, and I pointed at the frying pan. “It’s extremely profitable for him,” he said.

  It sounded as if his brother owned the company, but I didn’t say that. If Warren cared, it only made him a sweeter guy. “So why does he want to quit?”

  “His girlfriend was cheating on him and said she was only there for his money.”

  The words were like bullets that pierced through me, and I pressed my hand over my heart. “It's horrible that someone might do that. I hate feeling dependent on others, including you, for all my basic needs.”

  He laughed. “You don’t depend on me. We’re working together. You’re not sitting around just spending money you don’t earn.” He then glanced up and down at me and said, “Come to think of it, you need clothes, and I promised we’d handle that.”

  I turned on the stove and considered his words. He was right, and I shouldn’t have been so sensitive. He wasn’t Romeo, and I was on the payroll. I ignored that I’d been washing my underwear every night for two weeks. I pressed my lips together. “I’ll get to that eventually.”

  He turned the burner off and put the cheese in the fridge. “Come on. Let’s get in the truck. I’m a man of my word.”

  I swallowed and put the frying pan in next to the cheese so we would only have to cook when we got back. Mrs. Morris had given me money that Warren wouldn’t let me spend on us. My face heated at the idea of Warren picking out my panties. I raised my chin. “Okay, but I’m buying some of my own stuff.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Warren was a gentleman in his soul, and for the first time in years, I felt like I was safe and could be myself. So I needed to lighten up and just take everything one day at a time.

  9

  Warren

  Kerry pointed at the local Goodwill. With her Coach bag, I wouldn’t have thought she would ever go secondhand anything. Parking there made my entire body sting. I didn’t want her ever to wear used anything.

  All I had to do was use my money and forget the plan. I could give her everything.

  She bounced like she was excited and rushed inside.

  I put my hands in my pockets and followed her.

  Kerry was like sunshine in my life and made me feel awake and alive.

  I found her in the first aisle as she sorted through shirts. “We’re not buying underwear in a thrift store,” I said.

  She nodded but didn’t look up at all. “Fair enough. Right now, the hunt for treasure begins.”

  She moved to the second aisle and found a few items that were bright and colorful. For days, she’d been in jeans.

  I followed and placed my hand on her back. “Treasure? Here?”

  She glanced up and laughed a little as she picked up purple, bright-lime-green, and yellow T-shirts. “Don’t act so superior with that face. Neither one of us in a position of privilege, and besides, thrifting can be fun.”

  Wrong. I had more than most people could ever dream. I swallowed as she picked up a pair of jeans and cotton pants. The bottoms were more sedate in colors.

  My skin buzzed. Lying was horrible, but I couldn’t explain. “I’m used to treating the woman in my life… better.”

  She winked and put a green T-shirt in her pile. “Lucky for you, we’re not dating. We’re partners.”

  Partners was a start. My heart thumped because she saw us as something. I placed my hand over hers. “Let’s go do something fun that doesn’t include shifting through used anything.”

  She shrugged and picked up a bright-red shirt with green trim that screamed Christmas to me. “I found five shirts. I need two more.”

  Right. Clearly, she enjoyed standing out. I picked up a white, silky shirt that said Dior and looked similar to what I’d seen women in New York wear. “This isn’t bad.”

  She looked at the price tag. “It’s nice, but name brand is pricier.”

  Twenty dollars was practically free. “It’s nothing. I’ll get you this one. It’s a present.” I needed to be honest. She thought I was living on a budget because I needed to, but the truth was very different. It was time to go to the mall and get good clothes for her.

  “Thank you. Maybe I’ll wear that when my divorce is final.”

  The reason we’d left the house that afternoon was underwear. She would never have said it, but we would get unmentionables. As we headed to the counter, I said, “One more store, and then let’s do something fun.”

  We paid quickly, as no one was in line. “Sounds perfect. Lead the way.”

  We left. I was tempted to break my rules, but if I did, I wasn’t sure she would stay with me. The truth was that she didn’t need to work or do anything for me, as her nearness alone was all I needed.

  10

  Kerry

  Warren had seemed desperate to leave the thrift store. He seemed personally offended that I’d used the small amount of money I had to get seven shirts and four pairs of pants. I’d needed clothes, though, and seven shirts meant I had a new shirt for every day of the week and would only need to do laundry once.

  Thrifting to me was like diving into the unknown to unlock unique items that no one else might ever find. Granted, I’d never mentioned the adventures to my parents or Romeo. Warren might have been different, but he clearly thought new was best, as my mother had always said.

  Either way, I stayed under twenty-five dollars, minus the shirt he’d bought me.

  We headed to Walmart, and I grabbed a bag of underwear with ten cotton bikinis so I would never have to hand-wring cleanliness.

  As we left the second store, I patted his back and said, “Thank you for taking me. I can’t wait to do laundry now.”

  He opened the door for me and said, “Sounds like a plan. I was thinking we could go horseback riding.”

  A fun evening with Warren sounded exciting, and my heart skipped a beat. For a second, I imagined racing him, laughing, and then kissing. As he opened his door and scooted in, I pressed my hand to my belly. “Sounds fun, but I’m hungry, to be honest. I worked all morning and now shopping.”

  He nodded. “Me too. Let’s go out to dinner. My treat.”

  For a second, I cringed. I wasn’t his to take care of, but my new money was from our deal.

  However, a night out sounded nice, and we could make the tacos the next day. So I put my seat belt on and said, “That sounds like fun. We can celebrate how working together is good for both of us.”

  He drove across the lot to an Italian restaurant. He parked and said, “You’re helping me out.”

  We headed inside, and a hostess showed us to a table.

  He was polite with every staff person he saw and not pretentious at all.

  I hoped he would never change. We ordered, and I picked the chicken parmesan. I normally didn’t fry my food, so it was a treat. Once we were alone, I folded my hands on the table and said, “We’ll consider this a business meeting.”

  “Not everything is about work.”

  The gleam in his gaze made me ache for his touch. “Okay, friendship.”

  He winked. “To new beginnings.”

  I leaned close as if sharing a secret, ignoring the thrill that raced through me from his nearness. “I have to say I do enjoy cooking, though. It’s been the only constant in my life where I feel in control.”

  “And I like eating what you offer.”

  Flirting was bad for business for both of us. I pursed my lips. “Still, we shouldn’t indulge when we’re on a budget.”

  He blinked but then leaned on the table. “We can celebrate where someone else takes care of us while we talk.”

  My lips curved higher, and I raised my hand to give a scout’s honor. “I’m not complaining.”

  He took a deep breath as if he’d been holding it. “Good. So what do you like about cooking so much?”

  The waitress returned with our meals, but my heart beat faster. I wasn’t sure anyone had ever asked me. And it was strange because Warren shouldn’t have been the one full of manners and breeding.

  Once we were alone, he said, “Go on.”

  I picked up my fork and checked that the meat was tender. “Well, I found in school that it was easier to make friends if I could offer people cupcakes and brownies. From there, I realized my parents even spoke to me with more kindness and less criticizing if they enjoyed a meal I made.”

  We ate in silence. I felt sensitive all over, as if I was covered in goose bumps. I wasn’t sure I’d ever spoken like that to anyone. As we finished, he said almost in a whisper, “That must have been very lonely.”

  The intimacy shocked me. I hugged my waist and said, “It wasn’t all that bad. I had a lot of time to study.”

  The waitress brought the check, and he put cash on the table. We stood together and he said, “It’s hard to imagine a quiet childhood. My family talked all the time.”

  His proximity to me made my legs feel like spaghetti for a second. I’d always wanted to be like him. “You were lucky.”

  He placed his hand on my back as if he would protect me from life, which was so tempting to consider. “I really was.”

  As we headed out, my mind raced. I ached for him to kiss and hold me and never let go. Deep down, though, I knew it was a bad idea. I had a sense that the feeling of wanting him might grow, and I feared that I would want to be near him forever.

  My face heated as we neared the truck. “So how come you’re so nice?”

  He held my door for me. “I don’t remember a lot about my birth parents, but I do remember my dad telling me that I should always try to walk through life in someone else’s shoes. He said, ‘life isn’t easy, son, so if you can make it better for a fellow traveler, you should.’ I try to remember that when I’m having a discussion or disagreement. It’s less about right and wrong and more about point of view. Seeing how the other person views the question can be illuminating.”

  My heart melted a little as he closed my door. I watched him walk around the front of the truck, marveling at the man. Once he got inside, I said, “Empathy is a good quality.”

  He started the truck to head home. We weren’t far from our apartment. “Good. I’m glad we’re getting to know each other.”

  I glanced out the window and wished I had my feelings under control. I wasn’t normally so emotional. “Maybe we should be careful about the ‘getting to know each other.’ Work might be easier if you and I keep a little distance.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  Me neither. Not that I would ever say that out loud. It was too dangerous. I pivoted and studied him. His words were full of trust and hope.