|
|
|
|
|
|
|
ried two jelly glasses, the only containers available in the cupboards, filled with amber liquid toward the fire. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
D.J. sat up and jerked her head toward the sofa. "Can you move the couch closer to the fire? Then we'll have something to lean against." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chris nodded and handed the two glasses to D.J. He did as she'd asked, then sat down next to her on the floor, their backs against the couch. The fire cracked and flared. D.J. handed him a glass. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He glanced at D.J. She tilted up a full glass of wine, studied innocence on her face. So much for confining her to one helping, Chris thought. He put his empty glass aside. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Nice place," he ventured. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She made a noncommittal grunt. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Would you like to share why you hate it?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Did you live here as a child?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Chris sighed. He was getting nowhere with his game of twenty questions. "Do you plan on acting like a zombie the entire time we're here, or just for tonight?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
She took a sip of wine and stared into the fire. Several moments passed before she let out a long sigh, and her head tipped over onto his shoulder. He captured the glass before the remaining liquid spilled onto his pants and set it aside. |
|
|
|
|
|