Free A Slow Boil by Karen Winters Page A

much for breakfast and I need to get going anyway.”
    “Do you know where the bread and toaster are?”
    “Yep.  Mrs. Sheridan showed me.”  I had already pulled
the bread out of the basket on the counter top and plugged in the
toaster.  “Would you like some toast, Mr. Hunter?”
    “Sure, as long as you’re making some for yourself.”
    I served him two pieces of buttered toast on a plate and sat back
down with my identical breakfast.  We ate in silence and I collected our
plates when we were done.  The dishwasher was still full of last night's
clean dishes.  He must have come back down and cleaned the kitchen after
putting me to bed.  I wondered what he thought of the inedible cake I’d
left in massacred pieces on the counter.  “Would you like me to put these
away?”
    “No, no work for you this morning, Miss Lane.  I’ll take care
of them later.  You can just put our plates in the sink for now.”
    He stood up and brought his coffee cup over to put in the sink,
too.  Standing next to him I was again struck by his height.  I was
five foot five inches, and he seemed to be at least a foot taller than me, but
that would make him six and a half feet tall, and that couldn’t be right. 
He caught me frowning up at him and asked me what I was thinking. Even a full
night’s sleep was no use against his 'honesty only' gaze so I told him I was
trying to guess his height.
    “Six foot two,” he smiled.  “Is that a problem?”
    “No, of course not.”  I could feel a blush starting to rise
and quickly changed the subject.  “Thank you for last night. I mean, for
carrying me to bed and letting me sleep here again.”
    “Don’t worry about it.  Like I said, you fell asleep on the
dining room floor.  I would have to be a monster to send you home in that
state.”
    I suddenly remembered the details of last night’s dinner.  Me
kneeling on the floor next to him, his hand in my hair, my cheek on his
thigh.  There was no controlling the blush this time.  Luckily he had
turned away from me and was gathering some things off the island.
    “When would you like me to drive you home?”
    “The sooner the better, I guess.  I have an appointment to
see an apartment at ten.”
    “That’s not for another hour and half.  Are you sure you
don’t want some eggs?”
    “I’m sure.  And the apartment is in the south end, so it will
take me a while to get there.”
    He paused for a moment and turned back to me.
    “Miss Lane, would it be terribly imposing of me to ask to come
with you?”
    “Come with me?  Why would you want to do that?”
    “For one thing, if I drive you there you won’t have to walk. 
Some of the neighborhoods get a little rough down there.  And I’d also
like to see what kind of apartment you’re considering taking.  I don’t
want you living somewhere unsafe.”
    He noticed my hesitation.  “Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked. 
You and Britt will be fine.”
    “Britt isn't coming.  She has her last final exam this
morning.”
    “So you’re heading off into the south end on your own?”
    I nodded.  “That was the idea.”
    “Then I think I really must insist on accompanying you, Miss
Lane.  If nothing else, at least let me drive you.  I’ll wait in the
car while you check out the apartment, if that makes you more comfortable.”
    I had to admit it would be nice to get a ride there and
back.  “All right, if you insist.”
    “Good.  Shall we leave in about hour?”
    “Sure.”
    I folded my hands together and looked around the room.  What
was I going to do for an hour in Mr. Hunter's house if I wasn’t working?
    He solved my dilemma for me.  “Why don’t you browse around in
the library until then.   I have a few things to
do in my office.”
    “That’s a great idea,” I said excitedly as I followed him upstairs
to the second floor.
    I was happily ensconced in a big easy chair with a stack of novels
next to me when he stuck his head in the door an hour