Take the Chance (Top Shelf Romance #9) - Brittainy Cherry Page 0,132

highlighted the small perfection of her breasts in the front. Was she smiling that smile of hers that made it seem like nothing in the entire fucking world could possibly be bad?

You’re getting loopy. Time to call it.

I started to pack up my materials into my briefcase. A soft knock came at the door.

I opened it to Darlene.

She wasn’t wearing that dance top, but a peach-colored sundress, no shoes. The dress skimmed her breasts and flared out at her narrow waist. Her hair fell over shoulders, dark with dampness from a recent shower. Oven mitts covered her hands to protect them from the glass pan she held. The delicious scent of tuna casserole wafted up from underneath the tinfoil. It smelled warm and good in a way my TV dinners never did.

“I know it’s late, but I took a chance that you were up,” she said. “I made another casserole. Mostly because it’s the only thing I know how to make. And to keep myself out of trouble.”

She seemed on the verge of tears for a second, but blinked them away to smile brightly. “Anyway this is for you. Can I just drop it off? Then I’ll go.”

“Uh, sure,” I said, opening the door for her. “Thanks.”

“I don’t want it to go to waste.” She breezed past me and set it on the kitchen counter. “You can return the pan whenever.”

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Sure. Great. I don’t want to bother you. I should go back…” She headed for the door, head down and her voice thick. “Livvie’s asleep? Of course, it’s late…”

“Darlene, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Stupid, really.” At my door, she took off the oven mitts and tucked them under her arm. “I just had some kind of good news today and I wanted to tell somebody. At 11:30 at night,” she said with a small laugh. “Sorry, never mind. I don’t want to bother you.”

She turned to leave and I knew I’d never sleep that night if I let her.

“Don’t go,” I said. “I could really use some good news right about now.”

“Oh, did you have a bad day?” Darlene said softly. Her beautiful face that had been wrought with inward pain, instantly opened with outward concern. For me. “You can talk about it. If you want.”

Talk to her. Such a simple concept, but I didn’t do this. I didn’t let women into my place. I didn’t talk about my day. Except with Olivia, I was on auto-pilot, slogging through the hours to get to the finish line. But Darlene kept slipping in and I couldn’t keep her out.

Maybe I don’t want to keep her out.

I cleared my throat. “You were going to tell me your good news.”

She put one bare foot on top of the other, her smile tentative. With her face scrubbed free of makeup, she was impossibly beautiful. I crossed my arms over my chest, a flimsy shield against her.

“It’s so weird, but I feel like I need to tell someone or I’ll burst or cry, or I don’t know what.”

“Tell me.”

“Okay, well…” She heaved a breath. “I auditioned for this little dance company earlier today and they gave me a small part. It’s the first time I’ve danced in a while so it’s kind of a big deal to me. And my place is so quiet…” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “My friends and family are all asleep on the East Coast now. I called my sister earlier but it’s not the same thing, talking on the phone. Silly, I know.”

“It’s not,” I said, moving to the kitchen, grateful for an excuse to put some space between us. For a second, she looked so small and vulnerable, my arms wanted to go around her. “That’s awesome. We need a celebratory piece of tuna casserole.”

I pulled two plates from the cabinet, and two forks, and a serving spoon I’d never used, from a drawer.

“I don’t want to keep you up.”

I turned with a small smile. “But I’m already up.”

“Thank you,” Darlene said softly. She joined me at the kitchen table. “I’m not used to living alone. The quiet gets to me and I’m not a fan of TV.”

I cut two squares of the casserole, and ladled one onto her plate, one onto mine. I took a bite.

“Holy shit, this is better than the first one.”

“Yeah?” Darlene’s smile brightened. Her light was always on but now her internal dimmer switch was turned up higher.

“I put peas in it. I thought you might