She shuddered, wondering if he sorted his laundry like most other men—“filthy” and “filthy but wearable”—and wondering why she wasn’t horrified by the thought of handling his underwear.
Iron everything in my closet.
Rearrange the furniture in the living room. Lady’s choice. Take a picture, then put everything back the way it was.
Stack the wood outside. Never know when a cold front will come in.
The slam of a door startled her, and she glanced up, her heart beating in time to the newcomer’s pounding footsteps. Had Jase returned?
Beck rounded the corner, flooding her with disappointment. No, no. Not disappointment. Relief. Of course.
He drew up short when he noticed her—and grinned. “Well, well. My Christmas present came early this year. West scheduled a late night out, and Jase is obviously gone, considering his car is missing, so it’s just you and me, all alone. Whatever should we do?”
Flirting? Really? He probably couldn’t even help himself, it was so ingrained. While Jase had showered, two other women had come knocking, wanting to speak with “my Beck.” They’d also demanded to know who the hell Brook Lynn was and what the hell she was doing in My Beck’s house. The blatant hostility had merely amused her.
“I don’t know if Jase told you,” she said, “but he hired me to be his assistant.” Maid. “And then he had to go...somewhere.”
“An assistant, huh?” Beck pointed at her, waving his finger to indicate her entire head. “You should probably wear glasses and put your hair in a bun.”
“Why?”
“For the role-play. Fully committing to your character makes all the difference.”
She nearly choked on her tongue. “We are not role-playing. I really am his assistant.” Maid.
“If you say so.”
“I do. And now I’m leaving. Office hours are officially over.”
Beck held out an arm, stopping her from passing. “Hold on a sec, pretty. Your car isn’t parked out front.”
“That’s good, because I walked.” There was no reason to use up precious gas when this house was only a mile—or three—from Rhinestone Cowgirl.
He gaped at her. “So...Jase left without giving you a ride?”
“Clearly.” Or were they talking about role-playing again? In which case the answer would still be the same. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
“You sure will, because I’ll be driving you to your car.” Beck scanned the kitchen and sniffed. “After I eat. Something smells amazing, and I’m not just talking about you.”
Good to know. “Hungry?” she asked.
“Starved, actually.”
She placed the casserole in the oven. “It’ll be ready for consumption in twenty to thirty minutes.”
“Just enough time for a shower.” He undid the top button of his shirt. “Looks like you could use one, too. Why don’t we conserve water and do it together?”
“I would rather be stabbed in the kneecaps before walking on hot coals.”
“So...maybe next time?”
“Maybe never.”
“Your loss.” He winked at her before disappearing around the corner. A door shut.
Another knock sounded from the living room. Another of Beck’s women?
With a sigh, she strode to the foyer—and found Jessie Kay on the porch.
“What are you doing here?” Brook Lynn asked with a frown. Her sister had been too hungover this morning to chat about the new job.
“What are you doing here?” Jessie Kay removed her sunglasses and stepped inside without an invitation.
“I work here. Something I would have liked to discuss with you.”
The statement of fact was met with a glower. “Was that last night?”
“You know it was.”
“Well, did you account for Jessie Kay Standard Time?”
Meaning, what Jessie Kay agreed on shouldn’t ever be counted on, and it was Brook Lynn’s bad for assuming otherwise. “No. I actually thought you’d keep your word for once.”
“Then this is on you.”
Brook Lynn shook a fist in front of her sister’s face. “You are such a pain.”