“Because then you would worry, and I don’t want you to worry about me.” She walks into the kitchen to the fridge. “You have enough to deal with.” She takes out a water bottle.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” I say. “Want to watch a movie before bed?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “But I’ll sit with you and probably fall asleep.”

I laugh. “You do that anyway.” Turning, I walk down the hallway to the bathroom I usually shower in. After turning on the water, I open the cabinet and grab my shorts that I keep here.

When I’m finished and walk back out there, I find her already asleep on the couch. I don’t bother turning on the television. I just cover her up and walk back to the spare room and fall into bed. The next morning, the alarm wakes me, and I find her still sleeping. I get dressed and leave her a note before going home and getting ready for the day.

I’m in the middle of drafting up an email when she texts me.

Savannah: You left, and I didn’t even have to cook you breakfast. Thanks for yesterday. You always know what I need.

I smile and answer her back right away.

Me: You owe me breakfast, and I’ll collect it soon. I don’t know if I can get over to you today, already have a commitment.

Savannah: Have fun on your date.

I’m about to answer her when the knock on the door of my office has me looking up. “I have all the documents that you asked for,” Bonnie says. “Also, the bridge club ladies are requesting you for their annual luncheon.” I look at her. “They do it every year. Your father has always gone, even if it’s only for a couple of hours.”

“With all these teas, lunches, and dinners, it’s a wonder he got anything done,” I mumble, and she just smiles at me.

I go to lunch where I spend two hours doing nothing productive. Then I’m sucked into a meeting with a bridge club member’s husband about some tradition that was done for over five hundred years, and when I finally walk into my house, my ass is dragging. I open my fridge to grab a water bottle, and I’m about to call Savannah and see where she is when my phone rings.

I walk back to the kitchen in search of my other car keys when the phone rings again, and I pick it up and see it’s Jacob.

“Hey.”

“Where are you?” he asks, and I can hear in his voice that he’s frantic.

“I’m home,” I answer, stopping what I’m doing. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got off the phone with Savannah.” His voice goes tight. “Someone just trashed her house.”

Chapter Ten

Savannah