Asking for Trouble - Leslie Kelly [77]
“I doubt it,” I said as I finished flipping some pancakes onto a heavily laden platter.
“Tough,” he said, “I’m calling.”
“Yeah. I figured you would. But eat first, okay?”
“You calling me skinny again?”
“Oh, no, you are in perfect shape. But after all the late-night exercise, I think you need to regain your strength.”
Appearing mollified, he helped himself to a heap of pancakes and proceeded to devour them. Oh, I loved a man with an appetite.
Picking at my own food, I thought about my conversation with my brother the other day. I didn’t think what was going on at Seaton House had anything to do with Simon’s incident in Charleston. However, despite my assurances to Simon that anyone could have gotten those pictures of his attacker, I was a little curious about it. Deciding to call Mark while Simon went after the attorney, I mentally went over a list of points I wanted to cover.
I didn’t worry about bothering my brother on a Sunday because I knew, by one, he and Noelle would be at the folks’ house. This was the Sunday before Halloween, a good excuse for a gathering. The men would be watching football, the women would be hanging out in the kitchen. Mama would supervise, making homemade pasta, meatballs and brachiole. Gloria would be chasing after my nephews, two little boys who were Tony’s pride and joy. Meg would probably be holding baby Maria’s fingers and encouraging her to take her first steps with Joe watching over her shoulder. Lucas would arrive with his bride, Rachel, who would undoubtedly have a delicious, fattening southern dish in hand.
My family. I missed them. The whole loud, boisterous bunch of them. And I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to walk into the house with Simon on my arm. Seeing him shake my father’s hand, sample Mama’s cooking. Talk sports with my brothers and tantalize my sisters-in-law with his dark sexy looks and that mysterious scar.
He’d win them over, of course. They’d love him. Just like I do. I do.
I really needed to stop thinking about it. Especially because I was still supposed to be going home soon and the thought that Simon might actually come with me to meet my family seemed utterly impossible. And, right now, the idea of leaving him filled me with more anguish than anything I’d ever experienced.
Then again, I suddenly realized, there was absolutely nothing that would compel me to walk out of here without making sure whoever had been tormenting him was caught, that Simon would be okay and be able to get on with his life.
So, no, I might not be leaving here on Tuesday at all. Maybe I’d have to take the rest of the semester off. Get my brothers to go over to my apartment, pack it up and put my stuff in storage. Maybe I’d stay.
If he wanted me to.
Once we’d finished breakfast, Simon said, “Look, while I make this call, why don’t you get in your car and go into town and do some shopping or something.”
I frowned. “On a Sunday? That town doesn’t look like it has stores that are even open on Saturdays.”
“So go to church.”
“I’m staying.”
He shook his head, taking my arm. “I want to search this house, top to bottom, and I really don’t want you here in case I bump into our ghost.”
Oh, sure, right, like I was going to leave him alone for that. “Searching will go much faster if there are two of us.”
“Lottie…”
“Simon! I am not leaving,” I said, poking him in the chest with my index finger, my eyes narrowed. “There is absolutely nothing you can do or say that will make me, so you might as well shut up, go make your phone call and meet me in the foyer in a half hour so we can begin searching.”
Staring at one another, we engaged in a silent battle of wills. But he