“You can sleep up there only if your dad says it’s all right,” she admonished them.
The two boys stopped and stared down at Addison in puzzlement. She turned away quickly and focused on Robbie, who was still looking around then sat tentatively on the lower bunk.
Kendrick slung a small duffel bag to a chair. “Settle yourselves in.” He looked pointedly at Robbie.
Charlie said, “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I have some cold sandwiches if you want supper. Can’t cook anything.”
He gave them a genial smile and clumped down the hall to the front. Kendrick gave Robbie another look before he shut the boys in the bedroom. He put his hand on the small of Addie’s back and guided her inside the room Charlie had designated as theirs.
“Why didn’t you ask for separate bedrooms?” Addie said as soon as the door closed. “You could have said I was the nanny.”
Kendrick studied her with eyes that told her he didn’t understand her objection. “He thinks we’re husband and wife or at least a couple,” he rumbled. “He thinks we’re a normal human family. As it should be.”
Addie wanted to laugh. The bubble of hysteria rose. “The fact that you can say normal and family in the same sentence shows you don’t know a lot about human families.”
“Doesn’t matter. I only care what he thinks.” Kendrick set the larger duffel bag and the long bundle with his sword on an empty table. “I have some shirts in there you can wear for something to sleep in.”
“Sleep.” Addie turned her gaze to the bed. It was a high wooden bedstead, the kind with steps. It looked comfy, but . . .
When she turned around, she saw that Kendrick was no longer watching her. He was pacing the room, examining the walls, ceiling, windows, flashing his light everywhere. A fireplace took up the far wall, which backed onto the fireplace in the big living room. The same stone lined it, the whole wall part of the chimney.
Kendrick ran a hand over the fireplace wall, then slapped the stones, which gave off a solid sound. He glided his light over the ceiling, examining the beams.
He reminded her of a guy on one of the house remodeling shows. Any second now he’d say something like, “Good bones.”
“You planning to buy it?” Addie leaned against the bed, the mattress soft against her back.
“Maybe,” Kendrick said absently.
“An old house in the middle of nowhere with a busted generator.” Addie nodded gravely. “The ideal home. I bet you could get a good deal on it. The question is—why?”
Kendrick switched his light from the ceiling to her, snapping off the beam just before it would blind her. “We have to live somewhere. A den in the ground might have done for my ancestors but I like indoor plumbing.”
He was trying to be funny. Addie’s big, silent warrior had tried to make a joke.
The only light came from her lantern flashlight now, which she’d set on a nightstand. By it she saw his eyes on her, glittering like a cat’s.
“Very amusing,” she said. “But you’re avoiding the question of our sleeping arrangements.”
Did he expect her to curl up in bed with him? Did he expect she’d throw off her clothes and demand to have sex with him? She imagined his welcoming look as he drew her against his big, strong, unclothed body . . .
Addie sucked in a sharp breath that nearly drowned out Kendrick’s next words.
“You take the bed,” he said, sounding indifferent. “I rarely use a bed, and I need to have a look around.”
“Ah. Right.” Addie kept the disappointment from her voice. Not that she’d been ready to throw off her clothes and slide into bed with him . . . All right, maybe she had been.