One example of millions as to why Isabella loved Annie.
“Could you do me a big favor?” Isabella asked, shaking out one of Prentice’s shirts and throwing it on a pile of other shirts to be ironed. “When you have a minute, can you take these latest piles upstairs?”
Jason had been delivering the stacks of folded clothes to their respective rooms all morning. Isabella had arranged it at breakfast, pre-Prentice showing up and her mind moved to Prentice and that morning.
He had shown up bare-chested, barefoot, hair tousled, looking unfairly, even, one could say, criminally attractive…
Oh, and when he’d offered his pancake to her, on his plate. The very thought of her doing something as intimate as eating off his plate was not to be borne…
Oh, and when he’d smiled at her, the first smile he’d sent her way since she’d been back, well, she thought for a second that she was going to pass out, literally fall in a dead faint on the floor.
“I’ll do it now,” Jason mumbled, picking up a pile of Prentice’s clothes and fortunately taking Isabella away from her thoughts.
“Thanks,” Isabella whispered, wanting to touch him, tousle his hair, anything to show the boy a little affection after what she heard last night.
But she didn’t.
She had four more days with this family, an unwelcome guest and when she was gone, she would be gone.
What she had to give was pancakes, laundress service and manicures.
And that was what she was going to give.
She wasn’t going to be able to wring miracles, take the tightness away from Prentice’s mouth (no way in hell) or cure Jason of his nightmares.
But she could sure as heck make pancakes.
And good ones.
She’d taken the clothes from the washer, put them in the dryer and was shoving another load in the washer when Prentice’s tall frame filled the door.
She twisted her head and visions of him in only pajama bottoms filled her brain.
She’d seen him shirtless twenty years ago, of course, and memories of his body, the defined muscles, the hair that matted his chest (not too much, just enough) had been fodder for many a fantasy when they were apart and the twenty ensuing years besides.
Now, the defined muscle had more bulk, more power. Even the way he held himself which, back in the day, was confident to the point of almost swaggering, was now more confident but without the swagger.
He knew who he was, had settled into his physique and the result was enthralling.
Still, he could have absented himself that morning and put on a shirt. It was the polite thing to do. She knew it was his house and she was a guest he’d rather not have but, really. To wander around the kitchen half-naked, standing close to her (probably so he could keep an eye on her and wrestle her out of the room if she did anything too friendly with his children), it was too much!
“Yes?” she prompted when he seemed fascinated with watching her measure soap into the load.
Prentice’s gaze cut to her face and took in her hair then her body before coming back to her eyes.
“We’re leaving.”
“I’ll see you there,” she turned away, dropping the lid on the washer, turning the dial and hitting the button.
He was still standing in the door when she made to leave the room.
“You’re coming with us.”
Isabella halted. Then she stared at him.
“I’ll drive myself,” she said.
“That’s unnecessary considering we’re both going to the same place.”