Charity Case - The Complete Series - Piper Rayne Page 0,218

event or dinner at the club with my parents. If I liked Roarke even a little, I’d thank him for giving me a Saturday night to myself.

“Lucy,” I softly scold for not alerting me to someone being inside.

Not that I think they’re doing anything other than making me breakfast.

Lucy picks up her head, looks at me and then plops it back down.

I continue on the balls of my bare feet as I descend down the hall to better assess the situation.

My gaze flickers to the sunglasses I’ve seen Roarke wear before. And the suitcase totally looks like something of his—expensive and all manly with silver and black. My shoulders lose all their tension.

Then I stiffen again.

Since when has Roarke Baldwin ever made me feel safe?

I hide behind the wall where the hallway meets the open living space, watching him move around his kitchen with his back to me. His hair isn’t as gelled and his suit has been replaced with a short sleeve shirt and jeans.

He’s opened the blinds to allow the early morning sun to seep into the space as it glistens off the water. Seriously, his views. What did he pay for those?

“Crash Into Me” by Dave Matthews Band plays from a small speaker on the counter.

I silently watch him and swallow down the feeling that I’m glimpsing a rare moment of seeing the real him. It’s completely at odds with everything I’ve ever thought about this man up to this point.

Was this what favor number two was for? Some trick for me to have a meal with him? Coming home early on Sunday just to make me breakfast and force me to spend time with him.

He turns to grab something from the fridge and I can’t pry my eyes away, let alone hide back around the corner fast enough.

He catches me, a slow smile warming his face.

“You’re up,” he says like I live here and this breakfast would be expected.

“I am.” My feet feel stuck in cement, I don’t dare veer closer.

“Hungry?” he asks. A knock lands on the door. “Hang on.” He holds up his finger and answers the door.

My eyes are still transfixed on him, trying to get used to the idea of seeing him in jeans and a V-neck t-shirt.

Roarke’s head swivels in my direction. “It’s the dog walker.”

I nod, still confused by this whole situation.

Ned, the man who’s come every time to take Lucy on a walk, steps into the condo, waving at me.

“Good morning, Ms. Crowley.” He clicks the leash and the sound of four stomping paws barrelling down the hallway rings out, and then Lucy is skidding to a stop in front of her new favorite guy.

Lucy pays no attention to Roarke who is back in the kitchen now.

“I’ll be back in forty or so.” Ned heads out shutting the door behind him.

Lucy never gives me a second look. Traitor.

“Hungry?” Roarke’s voice pulls my attention away from the front door.

“Um.”

Shit, why did I let Ned take Lucy? It was the perfect excuse for me to leave.

“Come and sit. It’s going to be at least forty minutes until you can leave.” His smile is friendly and kind, but I remind myself he staged this sneak attack.

“You planned this.” I break the distance from the hallway to the kitchen.

“What?” he asks the question, but the truth is written all over his face.

“You got me here knowing you’d be home early this morning.”

He dishes up pancakes on a plate and sets them to the side. “Not true.”

Nickel jumps up on the chair next to me and toddles over to sit on my lap.

“He likes you.” He points with his fork to the small ball of fur in my lap.

“Don’t change the subject.” My gaze stays on him.

He turns and opens the fridge, taking out some soft cat food and heads to the laundry room. Nickel jumps off my lap to the floor, scurrying to his bowl.

“Is this Lucy’s food?” he asks me.

“The one in the Ziploc? Yes.”

A second later I hear her food hit her bowl and the sound of water running.

He returns to the kitchen. “There, they’re all set.” He washes his hands and opens the oven pulling out some sort of quiche.

“Just so you know, I’m not a breakfast person.”

He takes the dishes out and heads around the corner to his long table.

“Everyone’s a breakfast person.”

I follow him. “Not me. I’m going to get dressed and be ready when Lucy returns.”

He leans his shoulder on the corner wall of the room between