“You don’t sound thrilled with that idea.”
“I’m not.” He spooned fluffy scrambled eggs onto each of the plates and added the strips of bacon. “But it’s your decision to make. This is your home, after all. I want to give you all the available options before I forge ahead with plans that’ll surely disrupt your life for several months at least.” He turned to butter the toast, adding, “As if my presence hasn’t already disrupted things for you.”
I stared at his muscular shoulders and well-toned back. I should’ve been mesmerized by the sight—and I was. But I was also surprised. Was that apprehension I’d just heard in his voice?
Derek? Showing fear?
I suppose it wasn’t out of the question, at least when it came to our relationship. Recently, he and I had spent several long weeks apart. At one point, he had been off on assignment in Europe while I had traveled to Lake Tahoe to attend a weeklong house party with my neighbors, Vinnie and Suzie.
There had been a misunderstanding. A certain woman had answered Derek’s cell phone when I called him. I knew Derek would never cheat on me or betray me, but the incident had caused me to question our relationship. Again.
The thing was, the two of us had almost nothing in common. Derek went off on these top secret assignments regularly. His life was filled with danger and excitement. My life wasn’t quite the same. I mean, it wasn’t like I was some kind of country bumpkin bookbinder (although I did tend to wear my comfy old Birkenstocks while working). No, my life was full and complicated and, yes, interesting, I thought. But exciting? Dangerous? Not exactly.
On the other hand, I could be sparkling and sophisticated, having been raised in the heart of Northern California’s wine country and now living in an artsy area of San Francisco. If you were willing to overlook the aforementioned Birkenstocks issue, I was one classy babe.
But then there was my strange proclivity for finding dead bodies. And tracking down murderers. And being threatened with death on more than one occasion.
So maybe my life could be considered sort of exciting and dangerous, although I had never purposely sought out danger and adventure.
Derek, on the other hand, made his living that way.
So those were some of the thoughts I’d been pondering while away in Lake Tahoe. Frankly, I’d worried that we might not survive together in the long run.
So imagine my shock when I learned that Derek had experienced some of those same worries and concerns. He’d admitted as much to me and had come home determined to show how much he loved me and wanted to build a life together.
So the note of worry in his voice cut straight through me. Did he still harbor doubts about my feelings for him? If so, they were baseless.
“I love you,” I said, staring at his back. “You can disrupt my life anytime you want.”
He turned and crossed the kitchen in two steps, lifted me up from the barstool, and drew me into his arms. Covering my lips with his, he held on to me as tightly as I’d ever been held. Then he buried his face in my hair.
“I love you, Brooklyn.”
“Good,” I said. “That’s a good thing.” I stroked his back, smoothed his hair, comforted him. He seemed to need it. And that was nice to know.
After a long, quiet moment, I leaned back and looked at him. “To answer your question, I’d like to follow our original construction plan and keep everything on this floor. We’ll have lots more room, more open space, and easier access to all the bedrooms.”
“Good,” he said, breaking into a smile. “I agree.”
“Besides,” I reasoned, “all that running up and down the stairs all the time would get old. No, your first plan is better and I can’t wait to get started on it.” I paused a beat, then added, “So how’s that toast doing?”
He chuckled. “It’s ready. Are you?”
“Starving.”
We sat and while we ate we talked over the construction plans and the timetable.
Derek took a last sip of coffee. “My only real concern is the noise you’ll have to endure once the demolition begins.”
“I’m not worried about the noise,” I insisted, taking another bite of toast.
“You say that now.”
He was right. The noise would be awful at times. But the thought of all those strangers tramping through my home disconcerted me more than any noise they would make. I wasn’t going to bring that up right now, though.
He glanced at his watch. “I must get going.”
“I’ve got to get to work, too. Leave the plates. I’ll clean up.”
“Thank you, love.” He slipped his suit jacket on and used the dining room mirror to straighten his tie. I didn’t know a whole lot about men’s fashions, but I was fairly certain his gold-striped tie cost more than most of the outfits in my closet. Good thing I worked at home. In my Birkenstocks. And my pretty pink-and-green-striped socks.