Her head snapped down to look at her ever-so-average feet.
“Not that I have a foot fetish or anything.”
Her head whipped right back up.
“But it was hard to tell much about them last night since you’d been running barefoot through the woods and they were covered in mud.”
Yes. About that run… “I’m not a criminal.”
“Um, did I ask if you were?” He sent her another smile. This one seemed oddly gentle. He also uncrossed his arms and brushed past her as he made his way to the door she’d left open.
She hadn’t been able to see what he was painting. The canvas had faced him, not her. Curiosity had her edging toward one of the covered canvases nearby, and her fingers curled around the fabric as she prepared to take a peek at his work.
“Hardly worth a look,” Remy dismissed without glancing back. “How about breakfast?”
Her stomach growled to remind her that other than the two candy bars she’d gotten from the truck driver, Jacqueline had not eaten much in a very long time. “I…thank you. Breakfast would be wonderful.” She let the cover fall as she followed him.
“How very polite you are.” Mocking amusement filled his voice. Remy’s voice was like the rest of him—beautiful. Deep and rich, and it seemed to warm her from within, even if he was mocking her.
“I figure polite is the least I can be,” she replied when he stopped in front of some sort of extra gleaming coffee maker that looked as if it might have cost more than her first car. “Seeing as how I forced myself into your home.”
After pressing a few buttons, he turned away from the machine and rested his hip against the counter. “Hardly forced. In fact, I’m pretty sure I carried you in.”
Jacqueline stiffened. “Excuse me?” She had no memory of him carrying her. Zero.
“There you go, being all polite again.” He winked at her. “For shits and giggles, why don’t you try saying, ‘Remy, what the hell do you mean?’ I bet you’ll like that better. It will roll off the tongue easier.”
She could only shake her head. “You carried me inside?” She wanted to get back to that part of the conversation.
“Yes, I did because I am ever so gallant. And strong. Ask anyone. They’ll say that Remy—he is the best.” A pause as his gaze raked over her. “You know, I do come with references. Impeccable ones, I assure you. If you’re suddenly terrified because you woke up in my bed and you’re wondering if you’re safe, I can let you talk to a few people who will vouch for me.”
“I was in your bed?” She’d suspected as much, but the confirmation made her stomach do a funny dip. Jacqueline took a tentative step forward. “You carried me inside and put me in your bed?”
“And when you were snuggled up like the sweet angel you are, I promise all I did was brush back a lock of your hair. Thought I saw another leaf.” A shrug. “I can assure you, it was an imminently boring night for everyone concerned. Your virtue was completely safe.”
Excellent to know. But… “Having a complete stranger approach you in a bar and beg to stay with you is boring?” If that was the case, she had to ask, “What are your normal nights like?”
His lips twitched. “Best to not go into that part right now.” The machine was already brewing and hissing behind him.
Her stomach growled again. “I am so sorry.”
“For what? And again, don’t waste manners with me. How about saying, ‘Could you hurry up and fix me some fucking food? I’m starving.’ Try that.” He ambled toward the stove. “Let’s start with eggs. Scrambled, fried, over easy…?”
“Scrambled, please.”
Remy paused. Looked back over at her. “A good girl to your core, hmmm?”
What was so wrong with being polite? “I owe you, and I don’t have any way to repay you.” Humiliating to admit, but she couldn’t lie.
“So wrong. But we’ll get to that. You look pale so you eat first, then we can talk about our arrangement.” He cracked some eggs. Went to work. Pointed to her with a utensil. “If anyone asks, this never happened.”
The eggs smelled like heaven. Her toes curled against the floor. “Who would ask? Aren’t we the only ones here?”
“Yes, but for future reference, I have a rep, and my rep does not involve me cooking breakfast on demand for strangers, no matter how gorgeous said strangers may be.”
Remy thought she was gorgeous? No way. She had to look like warm hell. No, correction, she did look like that. Jacqueline had caught sight of her reflection in his bathroom mirror, and even though she’d tried to finger comb her hair a wee bit, she was as far from runway ready as a person could be.
But…he’d called her gorgeous. And he was cooking her breakfast. She did not know what to make of this man. A real-life hero.
Moments later, she was seated at his table, eating eggs that were the lightest and fluffiest eggs in the entire world and sipping the best coffee she’d ever tasted. “Heaven.”
“I’d try again on that one.”
Her gaze darted toward him.
He smiled as he sat in the seat across from her. Sipped his coffee. He hadn’t pressured her yet for details about how she’d come to appear in that bar last night. Remy had just let her eat. Been a warm, reassuring presence. And he’d even tugged on a t-shirt. One that stretched across him because it was too tight. Or because his muscles were too big. Something. She should probably not be noticing his muscles or how toe-curling that smile of his was. Not in light of her current circumstances. But she did.
Oh, she did.
Jacqueline put down her fork. “I should get ready to leave.”
“Um.” Another sip of his coffee.
“I don’t suppose you have a…girlfriend who might have left some clothes around here? Things I could borrow? Shoes?” Shoes would be amazing.
“No girlfriend.”
Her breath released. Holy crap, had that just been a sigh of relief that escaped her?
“But there are some clothes that would probably work for you. The previous occupant just boxed up stuff and left it. I was gonna donate it but didn’t get around to it. Not yet. I think there are some sweatpants and tops upstairs.” His gaze seemed to twinkle. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and find some shoes.”
“I don’t tend to get very lucky.” Such a true statement. “My luck is more the opposite.” The worst ever. Case in point? Her mad escape from New Orleans all the way to Halfway, Georgia. A rush that had included taking nothing but the clothes on her back and the ring that had been shoved on her finger.
But she’d ditched that ring. Now she could start again. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d started over from scratch. Perhaps it would even be the last time. But before she could begin that new life plan, she had to make sure the people following her lost her trail. “Bad luck follows me,” she murmured. Just like that creep last night.
“Hmm.” Very noncommittal. Remy sipped again.
She felt twitchy. “I know I’ve already asked for a ton, but after I search for the clothes, could you…is there any way I could get a ride to…”
He lifted his brows. Waited.