God, the way he said my name… smooth as silk and full of promise. I wanted to dig out my cell phone and record him saying it so I could listen to it over and over.
He lifted my hand to his lips and gave my knuckles a kiss. A flurry of emotions bombarded my senses—longing, desperation, desire, love. He pulled away, and the feelings retreated with him. My head swam.
“I’ll see you Monday.” He held my gaze a moment longer than necessary, and my body temperature spiked several degrees.
“Hey!” I hurried after him. He stopped and turned back toward me. “I still don’t know your name.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, then shoved his hands into his pockets. “Trent.”
CHAPTER NINE:
Photographs
YAWNING, I RELUCTANTLY DRAGGED MYSELF DOWNSTAIRS. The delicious scent of cinnamon and icing filtered toward me the closer I got to the kitchen. Mmm. A dish of warm, homemade cinnamon rolls sat on the counter. My stomach grumbled at the sight of them.
“Can I have one?” I asked.
Larissa nodded. “Of course.” She dried her hands on a towel, turned toward me, and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I piled a gooey, iced cinnamon roll onto a plate and then poured myself a glass of milk. I took a large bite, closing my eyes and savoring the pastry. “These are so good.”
“I’m glad you approve.” There was no scorn or sarcasm in her tone, just appreciation for my sincere compliment. She leaned against the counter and folded her arms. “Your father is playing golf today with a few potential business partners, and I have a lunch date with my sister, so you’ll have the house to yourself.”
Nodding, I took another bite, chasing it down with a drink of milk.
“I don’t know what rules you’ve had previously, but in this house, when we’re gone, we don’t allow anyone else to be here.” She gave me a pointed look, and her cheeks reddened as if she were preparing for an argument. “No girlfriends, definitely no boys—not even Simon.”
I rolled my eyes. When she found out I wasn’t interested in Simon like that, it was going to break her heart. Would she like Trent, though? Not that I had any intention of introducing them, but I had a sinking feeling Larissa would eventually ask.
“And please don’t leave the house, either. If you have to go somewhere, call me first, and I’ll have Declan drive you.”
Anger slowly built in my chest. She was treating me like I was a child and not weeks away from adulthood. Maybe she was worried I’d take off and never come back. She was right to worry about that, but it wasn’t feasible today.
Deciding to keep the peace, I smiled. “Okay, got it.”
“Good.” Her smile widened. “I thought I’d show you the boxes of pictures in the attic that we need to have scanned… if you wanted to get started on that.”
“Yeah, sure.” I licked frosting from my fingers and finished my glass of milk. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.” I carried my plate and glass to the sink, rinsed them, then washed my hands. “Let me go change real quick.”
I rushed up to my room, stripped off my pajamas, and dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and slipped on my flip-flops—that was the only thing I didn’t miss about Keene Valley: the cold weather. I shivered just thinking about it. Snatching my phone from the nightstand, I headed back downstairs.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I said.
Larissa finished loading the dishwasher and started it. The whir of the appliance filling with water faded behind me as I followed her upstairs. She stopped at the end of the hallway, retrieved a small step stool from the linen closet, and positioned it in the middle of the hall. Climbing up, she grabbed a rope and pulled while simultaneously backing down the ladder.
“I keep telling your father we need to fix this hatch.” She shook her head with exasperation. After putting the step stool back, she climbed the ladder into the attic.
I followed, the steps wobbly and creaking beneath my weight.
For such an expensive, meticulously kept house, the attic looked like it belonged to someone else. Unbearable heat nearly knocked me backward.
“We haven’t had a chance to remodel up here, but we’ve tried to keep things organized.” Larissa moved farther into the room.
At least it didn’t smell, but it was crowded, and I felt like I was standing in a furnace. I looked around—no windows. Great.
She stopped in front of a black, metal shelf that was stacked with boxes, two and three deep. Each box was labeled with a range of years, and my eyes widened. She failed to mention there were a bazillion boxes and that this job would probably take an entire year to finish.
My shoulders slumped. “All of these boxes need to be scanned?” I asked, overwhelmed.
“Goodness no.” She laughed. “Only these two shelves.” She motioned to the top two shelves.
I sighed with relief. Approximately twelve or fifteen boxes… that was a lot more manageable. “What’s all the other stuff then?” I asked.
“Mostly legal and financial papers your father doesn’t want to get rid of, and I believe there’s stuff he inherited from his father—family trees, correspondence, paper clippings—things like that.” She waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t need to worry about any of that, though. Just concentrate on the boxes with pictures.”
“Okay.” How many pictures were in each box?
“The scanner is set up to work on the desktop in the main office. If you need any help operating it, the manual is in the top drawer of the filing cabinet.”
“Shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out,” I said.
“All right, well, I think that’s everything.” Larissa blew out a breath and looked around. “I’d start with one box today, and then I’ll have your dad carry the rest down
