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She ducked her head and quickly finished her soup before drinking some water. She still looked exhausted and anxious, but I was pleased to see that the colour had returned to her cheeks, and her lips were a normal pink. I frowned and leaned in, studying her bottom lip.
“Shit, I think you have frostbite on your lip,” I said.
The tip of her tongue flicked out to touch the swollen and raw-looking skin. “I don’t.”
“I think you might. You should have it looked at.”
“It’s not frostbitten,” she said. “I just had a stressful week at work, and I…”
“You chew on your bottom lip when you’re anxious,” I said.
She nodded and touched her lip self-consciously before drinking more water. We sat silently for a few seconds before she said, “So, I’m still up for a play session if you are?”
“It’s late,” I said, glancing at the microwave clock.
“Not that late,” she said, giving me a smile that looked decidedly fake.
“You’re obviously tired and had a bad day,” I said.
“Oh, it wasn’t that bad.” Her voice turned high-pitched when she lied, and she chewed at her painful-looking bottom lip. She hesitated and then placed her hand on my upper thigh, rubbing it slowly. “I would love a play session with you, Mr. Steele.”
“It’s more than clear that’s not true,” I said. “You’re not into it tonight, and that’s fine. I understand why you aren’t, so why are you trying so hard to convince me you are?”
She dropped her hand from my thigh and slid off the stool. “You’re right. Thank you for the soup, Mr. Steele. It was kind of you to share it with me. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
I followed her out of the kitchen. She put on her boots and grabbed her jacket. When she picked up her purse, I said, “You can wait inside for your Uber.”
Her teeth worried her swollen bottom lip. “Oh, um, I’m certain my car will start now. It’s done this in the past. It just needs to sit for a bit, and then it’s good.”
I knew fuck all about cars, but that sounded like some pretty serious bullshit. “Is that right?”
“Yes,” she said. “Good night, Mr. Steele.”
“You can’t walk to your car. It’s cold, and it’s dark.”
“I’m good now that I’m warm,” she said. “Calling an Uber just to drive me to my car is a waste.”
“You’re right,” I said, opening the closet and reaching for my jacket. “I’ll drive you to your car.”
“What?” She gave me a horrified look. “Oh, no, no, thank you, Mr. Steele. I mean, that’s very kind of you, but you’ve already done so much for me this evening. I can’t ask you to -”
“You didn’t ask, I offered,” I said. “Come with me, Charlotte.”
She hesitated but ultimately followed me back through the kitchen and into the mudroom to the door leading into the garage. I opened the passenger door for her, and she sat gingerly on the seat, giving me a doubtful look as I slid behind the wheel. “Are you sure you don’t mind giving me a ride to my car, Mr. Steele?”
“I don’t mind,” I said and started the car.
CHAPTER 11
Deacon
“You don’t have to wait.” Charlotte gave me an anxious look.
“Stop chewing your lip, please,” I said.
She released her lip, licking away the faint trace of blood on it.
“Good girl,” I said, hoping to ease her obvious angst, but for once, my praise didn’t help.
