She glanced down at her conservative one-piece suit and was suddenly consumed with fury. "This is what is commonly known as a swimming suit." She addressed him icily. "I was swimming. What would you have me wear, a sweat suit?"
To her surprise, color began to invade his dark features. He studied his cup of coffee, swishing the liquid around in it absently.
She had him at bay and he was going to pay for his belligerent behavior. "If you don't want me to use the pool, just say so. After all, it's your pool, your house. . . " Her voice trailed off when he glanced up sharply, obviously stung by her words.
"You're welcome to use the pool any time you want. I'm sorry I was rude to you, and I know it's not your fault you look so good in that suit." He dumped the rest of his coffee in the sink and left the room.
She stared after him. His moods came and went like summer storms. With a perplexed shake of her head, she went to her room to change. From now on, she would be sure she had her beach robe by the pool when she swam, just in case someone came by . . . especially Giddon. His remark about how she looked in the swimsuit made it obvious that he saw her as something more than a baby sitter or maid. Come to think of it, maybe that thought troubled him as well. Maybe that was why he was so upset. Walking so fast that it created a breeze that caught the loose hair hanging down her back, she turned her ankle slipping off her sandals. Recovering in an ungraceful manner, she marched to her room, glad he wasn't around to laugh.
She changed into a sleeveless blouse and shorts, wondering as she did so if he would object to the shorts. Part of her hair was still damp due to the volume. Combing it up into a pony tail, she bound it and eyed her image critically in the mirror. There was nothing suggestive about her attire, and it was too hot to wear jeans. She placed the brush on the table and left the room.
Tammy and Sarah were in the kitchen when she returned, and Tammy was standing in a chair ripping the cover off some chocolate chip cookies. A wisp of blond hair hung over one eye and Lisa brushed it back. Tammy grinned up at her.
"Wana cookie?"
Lisa leaned over the sack and examined the cookies with the expected enthusiasm.
"Mmm. They look delicious. Which one is mine?"