“That what you think I’m doing?”
She took a deep breath then shook her head. “I guess not. Sorry. Didn’t want to sound presumptuous. I’m just really tired.”
Getting up from the chair, he went over to her. “Too tired to give me a proper ‘thank you’?”
He knew that would stupefy her and watched the blue in her eyes darken from shock to worry. “I’m…..sorry?”
“I believe,” he leaned in, hands propped on the edge of the counter behind her, trapping her between his arms, “you still owe me a tour of the upstairs. Remember, we just ended with the fireplace.”
“Uh……oh.” She stammered, which caused him to remove one hand. He teased her enough. Still, he wanted to see how she’d react. Like that waitress last Friday, it didn’t take much to get their panties off with a double entendre. But Eva wasn’t a roadside waitress. Or a club whore. “Sure,” she said, stepping away from him. “Follow me.”
Oh, he did – the prime benefit being a splendid view of her ass all the way to and up the stairs. But then he was sidetracked by the gorgeous, stained-glass window on the wall halfway up the stairs. He paused to look at the colors, the intricate work and the sturdiness of the glass. “Anymore like this?”
“Just in the bathroom, but not color. Frosted white. It’s my favorite.”
“Lead the way.”He loved the way the hardwood of the stairs and upper hallway creeked with each step, such is the haunting sounds of an old house. It was as if it had a life of its own with stories to tell.
“Here.” Eva stepped into the bathroom first, moving aside so he could look around. “The plumbing’s in good shape and no cracked tile. Think I’m going to leave it all white. I like the clean look.”
The simplistic man in him agreed. “Me too. You’re right about the window, though. Especially situated above that tub.” The heavy, white, claw foot tub was impressive, especially picturing Eva naked, up to her neck in scented water.
She led him out after he sufficiently looked around, casually waving down to her bedroom. “Nothing special, but the peeling wallpaper border’s going to be the next to go. Hate waking up looking at that every morning.”
Ben imagined a different view waking up in her bed, then internally smacked himself. What the hell was he doing? Normal, horny thoughts was one thing, but he was practically envisioning himself in this house, which was absolutely ludicrous. She walked him past another spare bedroom which was empty with the exception of even more, unpacked boxes, a linen closet and doorway which led to a tiny attic. At the end of the hallway was a small set of steps which intrigued him. “What’s up there?”
“Oh,” she replied, looking less enthused. “That’s the turret.”
He was unsure how to read her reaction, his eyes flitting between her and the closed door. “Can I see?”
She regained her composure. “Yeah, sure. Sorry.”
Down the hall and up the three steps, she turned a crystal door knob and led him inside. It was clean, empty, all white walls, oak floors, built-ins and paneling halfway up, white, lace curtains on the windows. “This is nice.” He loved the room, like a quiet, private oasis at the end of the house. He was suddenly jealous that she had something like this and hadn’t done a thing with it. “What’re your plans for it?”
There it was again, that unexplainable sadness in those gorgeous blues. “Most likely an office, I suppose. This way I can log into the store’s inventory and accounting system without going in. Between now and Valentine’s Day is my busiest time, but I want to take some time off to do some minor stuff before Christmas.”
“Planning a housewarming Christmas party?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a somber chuckle. “Party for one.”
Ben pretended to look around, but was really watching her out of the corner of his eye. There was something hidden deep within her, some deep sadness that she was trying to fill with this big old house. He suddenly felt an odd connection with this woman, as if understanding where she was coming from – if that was the case. But he wasn’t going to pry. He did what he came to do and didn’t want to overstay his welcome. “Thanks for dinner, Eva. I know you’re tired, I can show myself out.”
She shook her head. “Don’t be silly. I’ll walk you down.”
Again, he let her lead the way into the kitchen. When she turned her back to open the slider, he quickly slid into his holster, flannel shirt and cut. Maneuvering around the table, careful to not knock over the stuff piled on the floor and went over to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll get to it,” she said. “I’ll have everything put away next time.”
He raised a brow. “Next time? So, I’m invited back?”
Eva’s eyes widened, as if not realizing what she said. This time, she made a quick recovery. “Well, you chopped all that wood. Doesn’t do me any good if I don’t know how to work the fireplace. Think you can give me pointers – next time?”
He was beginning to like this too much, which wasn’t a good thing right now in his life. But he couldn’t resist another opportunity to be in the company of her sharp humor, blue eyes and sweet curves. “Think I can manage another trip here,” he said, trying to play it off. Without thinking, his head dipped, placing a kiss carefully where her forehead met her hairline. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo and felt the shudder that went through her upon his lips. “G’night, Eva.”
In her yard, he mounted his bike, pushed up the kick stand with his heel then walked it out to the end of the driveway. Only then did he start it up before quickly taking off down the street, the chill air tempering the heat surging through his blood, wondering what the hell to make of what just fucking happened.
Chapter Nine
The first, full-fledged Saturday of October had just about every resident of Tippitt and beyond tearing through First Impressions Cards & Gifts. Halloween greeting cards (yes, people really do send them!), party supplies, Jack-o-lantern shaped everything, spicy, cinnamon candles. Oh, and candy up the ying-yang. The local grocer down the plaza had a good supply, but Eva decided to be a little sneaky and offer,
‘buy one/get one half off’
in an effort to get people into the store early, which led them to buy other stuff. Cyndi and Jen did an awesome job on the window display. A split scene depicting the deep, warm colors of late fall and related merchandise on one side, while the other side had three witches stirring a cauldron full of smokey something or other – thanks to animated talent of Jen’s boyfriend – certainly caused crowds of passers-by to gather around and, eventually come in.
The early surge in business, and Cyndi proving to take her new in-charge role to a whole new level, gave Eva ample time to spend in the back office planning purchasing and marketing strategy for the upcoming holiday spree. She planned to mark down all the old merchandise to make way for the brand new line, find a way to make Thanksgiving more interesting, then batten down the hatches in preparation for Christmas. Her business counted heavily on the holiday season and, with a dream kitchen already etched in her mind, she needed the extra funds.
But the kitchen wasn’t the only thing on her mind these last few days. Her house, her business, her massive planning strategy – nothing consumed her thoughts as much as Ben did. Three times he popped up in her life unexpectedly in less than two weeks and all three times she hadn’t seen or heard from him for days after. What exactly was she expecting? There wasn’t anything there between them – was there? A chaste kiss on the forehead wasn’t some prologue to a passionate love affair. If anything, he seemed more enamored with her house than her. What did she expect to come of this? More important –
did
she want anything? Did she want to let another person - albeit a biker - in her life only for them to leave? She already drove away perfectly coiffed, LL Bean-attired William who came with a career, good family background and a country club membership. What the heck could a guy who hauled construction material and belonged to a motorcycle club where a
Three Deadly Sins
patch was worn as an advertisement of honor offer? From what she knew of the culture, they wore patches which signified things only known within their circle – translation: not fit for public knowledge. She highly doubted Ben earned that patch egging houses, TPing trees and soaping windows. That unknown, dangerous side of him should be enough for her to keep her distance.
Still, the vulnerable side he unwittingly showed while walking through her house snagged her. There was something about a big, tough man who emotionally exposed himself. But she took what he offered at face value - nothing more. He got her car fixed and her wood chopped. And…..he’d be coming back to show her how to work the fireplace. And for the last two days she prayed for a cold night to finally sink in so he could make good on his promise. But, after that…….?
She wasn’t going to get anywhere close to meeting her ordering/planning deadline if she kept acting like some silly tween trying to get the popular boy’s attention. She was a grown woman with a mortgage, business loan and anxieties about paying them off. There wasn’t room for anything to get in the way of the path she chose and disrupt it. Right now, her home and store were her priorities. Love was a luxury, albeit a painful one.
“Eva, phone call.”
Cyndi’s voice came through the speaker on her desk.
“It’s MaryLynn.”
New month and a new lunch date. Her childhood friend was the only person left from her past who knew about her maternal situation – or lack thereof – not to mention her only friend. And she lived over an hour away. Eva really boxed herself back into her hometown where her daily, human contact was with a twenty-two year old who considered the cancellation of her favorite reality show and not being able to afford the latest cell phone a crisis. She really needed some company her age, which is why she looked forward to her monthly lunches with MaryLynn.
“Hey.” She said into the receiver. “What’s up?”
“Dinner tonight. Here. Mountaineers have a night game and George has tickets. Let him have his ‘man night’. Which means I’ve got pasta and wine all to myself. Come share
.”
It sounded delicious. Even though she made a decision to be more social now that she was back in town, MaryLynn was it for now. And it was Saturday night. “That,” she began, “sounds great. What time?”
“Whenever,”
MaryLynn replied.
“The sooner we start getting drunk, the better.”
“I have to drive home later, Mar.”
“Nah. Pack a bag and stay over. You don’t open the store on Sunday morning, right? Leave that ol’ creaky house alone for a night.”
It wasn’t even two o’clock, but Eva had a sneaking suspicion her friend had a head start on tipsy. And she was way overdue for a wine-soaked evening. Oh, what the hell. “Sold. I’ll leave around four, go home and throw some stuff together. Oh, and I’m bringing dessert.”
“No low fat shit
,” MaryLynn kind of slurred
. “Only carbs, alcohol and fat allowed in this house tonight.”
Yep, definitely drunk. “You got it. I’ll be there before six.”
“Wheeee!”
Eva hung up, glad for the diversion. She needed a night like this. And even if she got drunk enough herself to spill about a biker coming around her house, MaryLynn would be too hammered to remember the next day.
Wrapping up in the office, she headed out, her eyes carefully looking about for motorcycles, but spotted none. The bakery at the end of the plaza had been here since she was a girl, though the owner had thankfully changed its name. Janice Morrell was well past the half-century mark, but was quite the randy groupie back in her day, having followed the British band, Def Leppard, extensively on their American tour during the indulgent eighties. Framed and polaroid photos of her with the band members littered the walls behind the counter of
Sugar Me
, having dropping the words ‘
Pour’ ‘Some’ ‘On’
from the marquee after grunge and the millennium took over and hair metal was a relic of the past.
The one thing Janice didn’t drop was her wardrobe, a carry-over from her hey-day. She didn’t look too shabby, considering her age and tired skin, but a decent boob job and a still-fit body enabled her to still pull off acid wash jeans and not-so-cropped tops. Eva entered the shop and the aroma of vanilla, chocolate, frosting and, well, sugar enveloped her. Another woman was over by the counter filling something out when Janice walked out from behind. Eva remembered back when she was a bartender at The Water Rock years ago, having served her dad his fair share of after-work beers before it was shut down, so there was a smile of recognition between them. Her voice was evidence of the years of booze and nicotine. “What can I get for ya, Eva?”
A nice, plump cheesecake would go perfect with pasta and wine and had the right amount of fat MaryLynn insisted on. “That one,” Eva said, pointing to the chocolate chip cheesecake smothered with dripping cherries. May as well go all the way.