“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He leaned a shoulder against the door frame, trying to look more casual than he felt.
“Cooking,” she replied happily. “Lobster stew, corn bread, and blueberry cobbler. I realized that Sarah stocked more than just clothes. She also filled the fridge, the freezer, and the cupboards with food.”
Jared shrugged. “She owes it to you. You are filling in for her wedding.”
Mara scowled at him. “I’m doing her and Kristin a favor. Sarah doesn’t owe me, and I feel guilty because I know it cost a lot of money for what she bought.”
Jared smirked. “I can personally assure you that her husband-to-be is beyond loaded.”
“You’re awfully nonchalant about Sarah doing all this,” she said suspiciously. “Did you pay her?”
“Unfortunately, no, I didn’t,” he answered in a disgruntled voice. “I tried, but she wouldn’t take it. She wanted to do this with Emily and Randi as a gift to you. Something about passing on something that had been done for her, and she likes you. Believe me, if I would have arranged this, your clothes would have been in my house. Why did you move?” He wasn’t going to mention the fact that he’d offered the money for Mara’s clothing to Dante, too, and his brother had adamantly refused it. Sarah was using her credit card, but Dante had laughingly told Jared that he’d pay it off the minute she finished buying for Mara and never miss a penny of the money. Dante might be obscenely wealthy, and it shouldn’t bother him that his brother wanted to help Mara, but it still annoyed him. Jared had only closed his mouth on the subject when Dante asked him why it mattered. Jared hadn’t had an answer.
“This is where I’m supposed to be. It’s what we agreed on. I’ll be out of your way.”
I want you to be in my way, and I want to be inside you. You’re supposed to be in my bed.
It didn’t matter what he’d said before, he wanted her with him. “It wasn’t inconvenient for me,” he said, trying not to sound desperate.
“That doesn’t matter,” she chastised him, looking back at her pot on the stove and giving it a stir.
It did matter, but at least she was right next door. “Smells good.” The scents in the kitchen were beyond good; they were tantalizing, and making his mouth water. “I didn’t know there was a lobster stew.”
“You’ll love it,” she answered without looking at him.
“I’m invited for dinner then?” Jared’s mouth started to turn up in a smile.
“You’re always invited. Now that I can get around, I’ll cook for both of us.”
Good. Then he’d pretty much be living here instead of his larger home. He wasn’t happy with her not being with him, but if he could keep her right next door with an open invitation, he’d take advantage of it. Every. Single. Day. “I saw you on the beach with Evan. Do you really think you should be walking around already?” Do you really like my brother? He left that question unsaid, but damned if he didn’t want to ask her what she thought of Evan, or if she was attracted to him.
Mara’s feminine laughter flowed over Jared like a balm to his soul.
She snorted as she said, “I wish I still had my cell phone. I would have taken a picture. I’ve never seen a guy as uptight as your brother. I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing him walking on the beach in a custom suit and that unhappy expression on his face. He’s hilarious.”
Hilarious? Evan? Jared wondered how his eldest brother would feel about that description of himself. He could guarantee that the words “hilarious” and “Evan Sinclair” had never been used in the same conversation. “So you liked him?”
Mara gave him a contemplative look, a spoon still poised in her hand. “He’s . . . complicated, I think.”
Actually, everyone except his siblings found Evan Sinclair terrifying, annoyingly cold, and a downright son of a bitch. Jared had never heard his eldest brother described as “complicated.” Only Mara would try to see anything more than the bastard Evan usually was to nearly everyone in his life. “Why do you say that?” He moved over to her and took off her new glasses, cleaning them on the soft material at the hem of his short-sleeved shirt. They were fogged up from the humidity of the kitchen, and he could see tiny spots of liquid that had dried on the lenses. He put them back on her face once they were clean.
“Are you ever going to stop doing that?” she asked hesitantly.
“Cleaning your glasses?”
“Yes.”
“Probably not. I told you that I used to need them.” He shrugged. “I wore glasses for a long time, since childhood. It drove me crazy when they had spots. I finally had the surgery to correct my vision after I became an adult. Are you nearsighted?”
“Astigmatism. It isn’t bad. My vision is just bad enough to be annoying and make me need the glasses when I’m working.”
“Then it could be corrected,” Jared mused.
“It could. But it hasn’t been a priority. Glasses work fine for me, and the procedure is expensive.”
“Glasses don’t work fine if you never clean them.” Jared smiled, loving the indignant, stubborn look she got when she was being practical.
“I clean them,” she answered defensively. “I just look around the spots until I have the time to do it.”
He was getting her eyes fixed so she could see well all the damn time. She just didn’t know it yet. Mara was stubborn, but little by little, he’d make sure she had everything she deserved and needed. As Mara moved to the refrigerator, he grasped her by the arm and spun her around slowly, pinning her body against the metal appliance before she could open the door. “So you could see me just fine the other night without your glasses.”