“I’m goin’ to get some bits for dinner.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said, making a move to stand.
“No,” Bronagh said firmly. “You stay ’ere; Damien will come in once you’re on your own. He might kiss you again.”
I scowled. “Bronagh.”
“You’re not comin’ with me.”
I folded my arms across my chest in annoyance, and it only caused my friend to grin. Knowing she won the argument, Bronagh unstrapped Georgie from her chair and lifted her daughter into her arms, giving her a snuggle.
“I won’t be long.” She winked.
I was left on my own then, and just as I was about to take a sip of my tea, I realised I was being watched. Through the glass sliding door, on the far side of the back garden, hunkered down with his belly on the ground, and his ears standing at attention was Tyson. He was deathly still, and unblinking as he stared at me.
“Stop it,” I called out to him. “Stop starin’ at me. I’m not doin’ anythin’ wrong.”
He didn’t move a muscle or look away from me, and I scowled at him because of it. That bloody dog held a grudge better than anyone I knew. I was notorious for not exactly watching where I walked when I was distracted, and maybe once or twice, or ten times, I stepped on Tyson during his lifetime, if that, but it was always an accident. I’d done it to Storm a few times over the years too, and he never held it against me.
Tyson clearly hadn’t forgiven me, though, or forgotten about what I had done either … he was always watching me, waiting … and it creeped me the hell out. I turned my attention from Tyson to the kitchen doorway when I heard a familiar voice bring a smile to my face.
“You better not have my cup, Ryan!”
Alec slid into the kitchen, his eyes instantly latching onto the cup in my hands. When he saw it wasn’t his prized Harry Potter cup, he relaxed.
“I thought you might be using it.”
“And risk your wrath? Never.”
His lips twitched. “How did your interview with that guy go?”
“Brilliantly,” I exclaimed. “He is goin’ to be a great addition, I know it.”
“Cool.” Alec smiled. “Glad to hear it.”
His eyes dropped to my body then, and I sucked in a breath.
“Alec!”
His eyes moved back to mine, and when he saw how wide they were, he laughed.
“You look hot, but I wasn’t checking you out. I promise.”
I scowled. “What were you doin’ then?”
“Looking for your sketchpad.”
“Me main pad is at home.”
He frowned. “Damn, I wanted to see the portrait of Keela that she said you drew.”
“Have you not seen it?”
“No ... come to think of it, you’re always sketching, but I never actually see what you’re drawing.”
“Sure, you do,” I answered. “The majority of what I sketch goes up on me website after I’m done and I know you like lookin’ through me site.”
“Yeah,” Alec agreed, “but that’s after you scan it onto your computer and do all your graphic designer magical things to it. Half of the time, what you sketch doesn’t look hand-drawn after you get it the way a client wants.”
I grinned. “Because I’m good at me job.”
“You’re awesome at your job,” he corrected. “What I’m saying is, I want to see your work in person.”
I hesitated. “I’ll bring the pad that had the drawin’ of Keela with me tomorrow, and you can flick through it, okay?”
“Good. I look forward to it.”
I raised my brow when he just openly stared at me.
“What?”
“Will you come up to the bathroom with me?”
“What, why?”
“Dominic said there is something I have to see in the bathroom, and I’m not going up on my own in case whatever it is … is living.”
I got to my feet, laughing.
“C’mon, princess,” I said, leading him out of the room. “I’ll protect you.”
When we reached the bathroom on the first floor, we both pressed our ears against the door, and remained deathly silent. Neither of us heard movement, or a sound of any kind, so I reached for the door handle, and opened it.
Alec decided to become brave as he walked into the bathroom, but he sucked in a sharp breath a second later, and stumbled out of the room. I peeked into the bathroom and screamed when I saw the clown. Alec was already spirinting down the stairs, leaving me to fend for myself.
“You cowardly bastard!” I bellowed after him.
He didn’t stop running.
“I’m sorry,” he shouted as he exited the house. “Don’t judge me!”
I walked into the bathroom, and stared at the pretty terrifying cut out of Pennywise from Stephen King’s horror book, IT, that was chilling in the bathtub. I shook my head and placed my hands on my hips. I looked over my shoulder when side splitting laughter floated up the stairs. When Nico stumbled into the room, I shook my head, and chuckled.