“You were raised with Callie and her folks, right?”
In a flash, Glory turned her attention back to her coffee.
Gently, he said, “Don’t want to talk about it, huh? I get that. How about we leave it alone for now?”
“I just... I don’t know how...”
Kam slipped his hand under the cool weight of her hair to the back of her neck, and for one brief moment, he touched his forehead to her temple. “Hey, I get it. Too many times I feel the same.” Memories could be a motherfucker. Sometimes they had the power to transport a person right back to a fiery hell.
Surprising him, she clasped his forearm and moved closer, until she was practically in his embrace. Unfortunately, the moment of vulnerability lasted only for a second. When she straightened, she wore a smile that didn’t quite hide the wealth of sadness in her eyes. “How did you do all this?”
Confused, he asked, “All what?”
She waved a hand. “The decorating.”
Kam glanced around at the house that now looked more like a home. “None of it was a big deal.” It had bugged him, seeing it half finished.
He hadn’t yet told her that he had an apartment within walking distance of her. Once he got moved in—something he was anticipating—then he’d drop it on her. Until then, fixing up her place had given him an outlet.
“I did a lot of guessing, based on what you had, so if you want any of the plants moved, just let me know. I can hang the pictures too, as long as they’re in the right places.”
“They’re exactly where I wanted them to go.”
“I figured since the sizes fit.” She had great taste, and the artwork would add a little more color to an otherwise neutral setting. He nodded up the hall toward the mirror. “I’m guessing it’s for the foyer?”
“It is, but it was too heavy for me to... Kam, I didn’t ask you to do any of this.”
“Friends don’t have to ask, right?” And while he was the topic... “Friends also don’t need to doll up at the butt-crack of dawn just to say good morning.”
Her lips twitched. “I didn’t doll up, and dawn came and went.”
“About five minutes ago.” He studied her face, all the smooth curves and delicate bone structure. “I bet you’re really pretty without the war paint.”
“War paint?” she sputtered, half in umbrage, half in humor. Then with a wrinkle of her nose, she confessed, “My eyelashes are as pale as my hair, which means they’re almost invisible. Without mascara, I look really washed out.”
Silly Glory. “I doubt, under any circumstances, that you could be anything but pretty. One of these days, I’ll see you a little messy.”
“Honestly, you should hold your breath while you wait.”
She said it so sweetly it took a second for the taunt to sink in. When it did, he grinned. Hell, around her, he did a lot of grinning. “So... It seems we need to talk.”
After a sip of her coffee, she asked, “About what?”
“I think you know.”
Like a rabbit who just spotted a wolf, she went still, before oh-so-cautiously turning her face to see him. In a mere whisper, she asked, “About the kiss?”
Okay, sure, he could talk about that, too. “I meant your persistent ex.”
She deflated. “Oh.” With palpable dread, she squared her shoulders and firmed her jaw. “He’s not my ex. Like I said, I only went out with him three times, and the first time, it was a group thing.”
“Like an orgy?”
When she swatted at him, he ducked out of reach, and she nearly fell off her stool. He caught her with a laugh. “Settle down, slugger. It was just a joke.”
Slapping away his hands, she straightened. “Not funny.”
No, it really wasn’t. “Sorry. You’re right. He’s a creep, so I should be serious.”