Page 51 of Dream House
“It was an accident,” I say, shrugging. But then I take a look at my door. The knob and brass plate are older than Moses. “But I’ll take a sliding latch if you’re willing.”
Tyler’s frowning again. At me. But he blinks. The grunting noise he makes sounds more like a yes than a no, but how the hell should I know?
He looks back down at his drill. “B...it,” he says, and then he’s out the door, but when he steps onto the open balcony, he hugs the wall, giving Nina a wide berth. She flinches as he passes anyway.
I look back at Stella to find her staring at me like I just turned orange.
“We’ll… let you get back to unpacking,” she says, and then she goes to Nina. “Would you like to go up to Pen’s attic while Tyler finishes? It’s really quiet up there… Unless she’s performing a spell.”
Nina blinks. “I… um…” She’s still clutching her elbows. She looks from me back in the direction of her room down the hall. Then she nods. “Yeah.”
As though Nina is made of glass, Stella guides her—without laying a hand on her—up the narrow stairs to the attic. She knocks, Pen calls a welcome, and the door opens.
I realize I’m still watching when I notice light dancing around them. A handful of light-catchers hang from Pen’s ceiling, painting prisms over the two women.
Nina steps inside, so then it’s just Stella at the top of the stairs. I expect her to disappear into the attic, but she looks back at me. Rainbows land and skate across her hair, her arms, her breasts.
For a moment, her blinding beauty makes me forget that she doesn’t want me living here. She doesn’t like me, and I don’t much like her.
Except for right now. I do like the way she’s looking at me right now. And the rainbow-sparkly tits. Because who doesn’t like rainbow-sparkly tits? And Stella’s are quite nice as far as tits go. Even without the lightcatcher rainbow sparkles.
It takes another couple of seconds for me to pull my head out of my ass and shut the door.
It would be better if I could lock it. That might keep me from wanting to open it again.
ChapterNine
STELLA
Livy moves in on Saturday,and by Sunday morning, it definitely feels like I’m living in a house with five other adults and a four-year-old.
Not only is today the first day I make breakfast for everyone, it’s the first time everyone comes to the kitchen for breakfast at the same time.
Except Lark.
He moved in Thursday and doesn’t seem to eat breakfast. Other than catching him running a load of clothes yesterday, I haven’t seen much of him since the night he moved in—when he kept Tyler from having a meltdown in front of Nina.
It took me too long to figure that out. That Tyler wasn’t injured. He was embarrassed. And it’s hard for him to manage sudden emotion. Like embarrassment or fear. And he was already so frustrated. It could have so easily sent him over the edge, and that would have been upsetting for him—not to mention Nina.
And I’m already pretty sure that upsetting Nina would upset Tyler even more.
Pen was right. He’s got a thing for her. Yes, this could spell disaster. But the look on his face when he got her lock installed? I haven’t seen him beam like that since before the accident.
So, I’ll take it.
Tyler spent yesterday installing latches in all the bedrooms. Even mine. He even added ones to the bathrooms, and those already had locks.
I don’t care. He can install latches on all the closets and cabinets if he wants to. He’s proud of himself, and he’s doing something. If I have Nina to thank for that, I will.
She’s the first one in the kitchen this morning, coming in right when I take two trays of biscuits out of the oven.
“Can I help with anything?” she asks, her voice a soft squeak.
I give her a smile and nod toward the fridge. My fridge. The new one for the tenants was delivered yesterday. “You can get out the butter and jelly and put them on the table.”
She does this while I stir the skillet of scrambled eggs and set the burner on warm. Sausages are still in the oven, but they’ll be done in a minute. I don’t usually go into the salon on Sundays, but I had to take some time off when Nanna died. I got behind and a few of my regulars are overdue, so today I have appointments until mid-afternoon. Hopefully, the extra biscuits and sausage will hold Tyler and Maisy over until I get back.
“Help yourself to some coffee,” I tell Nina just as Pen shuffles in wearing her purple paisley pajamas and apple green fuzzy slippers. Her head is still wrapped in her sleeping scarf.
