Page 58

Chapter Twenty-two

Lake

I slept late, stretching luxuriously when I woke, and unsurprised to find the bed empty. Baxter liked to be up early. So did I, in an ideal world. But unlike him, I needed an alarm clock to achieve it, something neither of us had thought to set while in the throes of passion. Or afterward.

Rolling onto my back, I replayed the previous night, parts of it already taking on a dreamlike quality. Such as the fact that I’d openly acknowledged the possibility of falling in love with Baxter. He hadn’t balked at it, though, had he? He’d taken it in his stride. What did that mean? I hoped it meant we were on the same page. Oh, to be able to read his mind the same way he could mine.

Baxter said something downstairs, the low rumble of his voice making me smile. Was he talking to himself? Was that something he did? There was so much to learn about him. Did he like films? He’d missed so many good ones over the last two decades. I could show them to him. We could have a weekly movie night. And if he hated my taste, we could bicker about it. He could treat my preference in films the same way he treated my love of history.

Another voice floated up from downstairs.

Female.

My smile vanished as I sat bolt upright. Verity. Fuck. What was she doing here? And more importantly, what was she saying to Baxter? I hadn’t mentioned him to her yet because I’d known exactly how she’d react, but in hindsight, easing her in before she bumped into him would have been preferable to this.

Fueled by the urgent need to rescue him, I made it to the top of the stairs before realizing I was naked. Not the ideal way to greet your sister in the morning. I retreated to the bedroom, weighing my options. Take longer to get dressed? Or grab a robe? I settled for the robe.

Still barefoot, I charged downstairs, arriving at the open door to the living room with what I assumed was a truly tragic case of bedhead. I smoothed a hand over my hair, trying to tame it into some sort of order while I took in the scene before me.

Baxter sat on the sofa, fully dressed. He was a study in casualness, one arm stretched along the back, the other holding a steaming mug of tea.

Verity sat several feet away, a yawning chasm between them. She’d dragged a chair in from the kitchen, presumably so she didn’t have to share the sofa with Baxter. In contrast to Baxter’s sprawl, her posture was ramrod straight. A mug of tea that appeared untouched sat at her feet.

“He lives,” she said dryly when she spotted me

The air crackled with tension.

“Morning!” Baxter said cheerfully. “I’ve been getting to know your sister. Don’t worry. I made her tea.”

“I wanted coffee,” Verity said. “You know I drink coffee in the morning. But apparently you no longer have any, for reasons I couldn’t determine.” She smiled. It wasn’t her usual smile. It was more shark-like. All teeth and no warmth. “I thought perhaps someone had stolen it.”

“They didn’t.”

“Well, that clears that up.”

No one spoke for what felt like an hour, but was likely only thirty seconds. I gave myself a mental shake. “This is Baxter,” I said, gesturing weakly in his direction. “Baxter, this is my sister, Verity.”

“Yeah, we did that bit,” she said. “When he answered the door and I didn’t know who the hell he was.”

“Great!” I said, sounding anything but. I wanted to rewind time and do things differently. In this alternate universe, I’d message Verity and tell her I’d met a fantastic guy, and we were building something that I truly thought might be everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Baxter put his mug down and stood. “I’m going to leave you two to it.”

“You don’t have to.”

He smiled. “I should head home and change.”

“Oh, he doesn’t live here yet,” Verity muttered. “I guess that’s something at least. Small mercies and all that.”

I ignored her. “Stay.”

Baxter shook his head. “I have exciting things like laundry to do. Plus”—he grimaced—“I was thinking today might be a good day to tackle the next stage of facing up to things.”

“Which is?”

“Either Calisto or my parents.” He pulled a coin from his pocket. “Heads, Calisto. Tails, my parents.”

“I’m still here,” Verity said pointedly. “Just in case you’ve forgotten that.”