I changed out of the paint-flecked terrycloth robe and put on the first dress I grabbed out of the dozens in my closet. I felt a bit bad that I’d already ruined two of his robes with paint. I told myself that I’d keep this one for painting.
Look at me. Making myself feel at home.
I shrugged off the faint feeling of jealousy and longing. This was my home for the week, at least, and I should enjoy it while I had the chance to. When I came out of the bedroom to the kitchen, Knox was putting away his cell phone. He whistled a low whistle when he saw me, then lifted his phone in the air.
“I thought that we could order in,” Knox said, waving the phone in his hand. “So that you don’t die of starvation in the middle of New York City. How does that sound?”
“Sure,” I said. “What do you f
