STAIN (My Soul To Wake Book 1) (10 page)

BOOK: STAIN (My Soul To Wake Book 1)
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Will sets his coffee cup down on the worn wooden surface of the table. He leans on his forearms. “I’m affecting your dreams, huh? That’s the sexiest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

I laugh. “Don’t go getting all cocky.”

He laughs harder. “Hey, I apologized for that. It happens in the mornings.”

I roll my eyes. “God.” From what I saw, he had nothing to apologize for. Hell, he should be damn thankful. “It’s probably just a fluke.” I attempt to tone down the vibe a little bit. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet. “I’m sure the nightmare will be back any night now.”

He turns serious. “You have
nightmares
? Not just dreams?”

This isn’t exactly the direction I was hoping to go, but it’s better than talking and then thinking about his
thing
. His perfectly tempting, large, bulging….

“Have since I can remember,” I blurt out to get my mind out of the gutter.

His hand reaches for mine, tracing his thumb gently and reassuringly across my knuckles. “I’m sorry about that. Maybe this is a new leaf. Maybe something’s changed, you know, no more nightmares?”

I want to believe that.

The house phone rings loudly, breaking our moment. Will mouths “I’m sorry” to me and moves to answer it.

“Talk to me.” He holds the receiver to his ear and sips his coffee. I finish my breakfast in silence as he listens to the other end. “Make sure it’s double reinforced and then cover it. The inspector should be there tomorrow.”

I take my bowl and mug into the kitchen and clean them off before placing them into the dishwasher. Will’s finished his call by then and does the same.

“I’m gonna take a shower in the upstairs bathroom. You can join me.”

I give him a look. It was a good try.

“You can use the one down here. There are towels, shampoo… anything you need. There’s even an extra toothbrush in the linen closet.” He kisses me on the nose. “Just shout if you need something.”

We go our separate ways and I do my best to wash up. I’ll take an actual shower back at the hotel so I can dry my hair, but for now a washcloth and some soap will do. I feel bad for taking the man’s extra toothbrush and make a mental note to buy a new one to replace it.

I find Moose lying at the door to the bathroom when I make my exit, refreshed. With no sign of Will, I wander through the house and check things out. It’s the curiosity in me. I’ve never been alone in a bachelor pad before.

It’s clean, tidy. I remember him telling me that he restored the house himself. That it was some kind of landmark. I don’t know much about construction, but it’s old. I know that much for sure. Every detail, every element of design looks perfect, painstakingly perfect.

I can tell by the meticulous workmanship that Will has poured his heart into this place. There’s a small room ahead, the rich stain of the wood door showing the grain of each board. Sunlight streams into the room, scattering about on the gleaming polished floor. It’s beautiful, the way the light speckles in the air.

I find myself wandering into the room. It looks to have been a bedroom at some point, but now is sort of an office or drafting room. There’s an angled desk, like an artist’s or an architect’s. Blue prints are sprawled about, with etchings and lines drawn in pencil.

It’s some sort of building, a house maybe? High, pitched windows, and sections of roof. I wonder if this is the place he’s been working on. It must be, I decide. A set of drafting pencils, rulers, and small measuring devices are strewn about the desk.

A large pile of drawings and scratchwork sit in the corner. I thumb through the top ones. Most are of buildings, structures, but occasionally there’s a drawing of a scene.

I stop at one of Moose lying by a lit fire. I smile. I imagine him falling asleep there late one night, and Will putting aside some important piece of work to scratch about and sketch the scene. He’s talented. The use of shadow and light… he’s quite good.

The next page is one of a small cottage. It’s not modern in any way, with a thatched roof, a stone chimney and small windows. It looks quaint, though. Comfortable. I can see he appreciates all sorts of architecture and buildings. Not just modern and new things. This cottage looks old. Very old.

The next drawing is one of a girl… no, a woman, I decide. She’s young, but she doesn’t seem to be a girl. She’s beautiful with long flowing locks of hair and warm eyes. He cheeks are shadowed as if they were rosy. Her dress is old. A costume perhaps?

The bodice is tight with ample mounds appearing above the corset-style top. The skirts are full, plain, with no decorative detail other than buttons. The sleeves are tied on at the joint, this
must
be a costume.

The drawing was done with care, with love even. I can tell by the flattering pose and the details that she was admired. The pose, the light in her eyes. Each stroke of his pencil brought it to life.

Who is she? I suddenly find myself jealous of a sketch. This woman, whoever she is… Will took the time to carefully immortalize her image. A pain sears through my chest.

I know very little about him actually. I know when I’m with him I feel at ease, comfortable, not to mention wanted and desired. It’s enough to mask the true fact that he’s a mystery. I know almost nothing of his past and this drawing is evident that maybe I’m overly optimistic when I think of what we are to each other.

I trace my finger over the graphite on the paper, as if it will somehow tell me more about her.

“She was beautiful.”

I drop the paper, embarrassed at being caught in a room I have no right to be in, looking at something I have no right to look at. But most of all, I’m embarrassed by his statement of her beauty. The way he said it, the emotion behind it.

I was right. He loves her.

“I’m so sorry. I have no reason to be in here. I’m so stupid. I should really be going.”

The mixture of conflicting emotions is unsettling to me. I’m here, in his space, looking at something private and dear to him. And it’s making me hurt somehow.

He reaches and takes hold of my arm as I try to pass. “No. Please stay.”

I swallow hard. Why would he want me to stay when he obviously cares for another?

“I drew that a long time ago. It was afraid I wouldn’t remember her face.”

I can see the pain in his eyes. It matches the pain ripping through my gut hearing him talk this way about someone else.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I shouldn’t be here.” I try to make my exit once more. This time, it isn’t his body that stops me. It’s his words.

“She was my wife.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

 

His wife.

He has a wife.

I think I stopped breathing. I watch Will as he gingerly touches the drawing. This pains me more.

“Your wife?” I ask, dumbfounded. How can he have a wife? He’s not much older than I am. At least I thought he wasn’t. Apparently, I’m wrong.

“She was. She-- she died. A long time ago.”

The pang of jealous hurt inside me now turns into shame. She was his wife, his love. She died and left him.

“I’m so sorry.” I move to him, resting my hand on his shoulder.

His hurt eyes finally lift from the hand-drawn picture. They are deep, wallowed.

“It was a long time ago.” He licks his lips. “Leah, I think I need to tell you the rest of that story now.”

What? How can he just move on like that? How on earth does some stupid little history lesson compare to the grief I was the catalyst in making him relive?

Moose begins to bark, having heard a sound. The heavy front door to the house is now knocked loudly upon. Three knocks.

Will tears his eyes from mine to dart in the direction of the pounding.

“Leah, please. There’s more you need to know.”

I believe him. Not that there’s more I need to know, but that there’s more he needs me to know, more he needs to tell me. For his sake, to ease his pain, somehow I want to listen.

Two more knocks.

“Will! It’s Liza!” A shrieky voice calls muddled through the door.

I close my eyes tight.

A dead wife, and now a very lively best friend.

How am I supposed to compete with all this?

 

~*~

 

Liza is striking. Of course she is. How could she be anything else? As if it wasn’t bad enough already?

“When did you learn how to make decent coffee?” she asks Will.

He and I share a look and laugh to ourselves. It doesn’t do much to change the mood that’s settled over us since I found the drawing but it helps a little.

Moose waddles into the kitchen. “Hey, boy.” Liza pats him on the back.

He growls. I nearly spit out my coffee. Will was right, the dog really isn’t a fan of hers. He takes a seat near my leg and proceeds to scratch behind his ear where she had touched.

I politely pretend that nothing has happened. She plays along and doesn’t skip a beat.

“He must not be feeling well,” she justifies. I smile awkwardly to her. “So Mia, how long are you in town?”

“Leah,” I correct her.

She smiles bitchily. I have a firm understanding of just what type of girl she is. Call it women’s intuition, but first impressions are sometimes the most important, and I’m siding with the dog on this one.

“Just a few more days,” I answer. “I’m here with some friends. I actually should be getting back to them.”

She perks up. “I’m heading into town. I can give you a lift.” She places her mug on the counter.

“I’ve got it, Liza. I’ll drive her.” Will objects.

Liza picks up her keys and handbag from where she tossed them earlier. “Don’t be silly. You’re late for work. I’m heading that way.” She takes hold of my arm. “Come on, Mia.”

I’m caught in the middle. I don’t really want to be in a car alone with either of them right now, but I need to get out of here, that’s for sure. I look to Will.

“I probably should just go with her. I’ve already taken up so much of your morning,” I explain. “I’ll just go get my phone.”

I sidestep the both of them and go to fetch my cell. Moose follows me. By the time I return to the kitchen, Will and Liza are in a hushed conversation that abruptly stops when I get near. Right… like they weren’t just talking about me.

“I’m ready.” Moose rubs against my legs some more, somehow aware that I’ll be leaving him.

“Great! I’ll meet you in the car.” Liza steps closer to give Will a peck on the cheek.

I see him rigidly accept the affection, aware that I’m watching. I can see he’s uncomfortable at Liza’s obvious move to claim him in some way for my benefit.

She leaves us, and leaves the front door open as well. A little parting hint to hurry up, no doubt.

“Leah, I need to tell you things. Please don’t think too much about what I said earlier until I tell you the rest of it.” I do my best to smile at him. “Tonight. We’re still on for the museum? Dinner? Please say you haven’t changed your mind.”

I don’t know what to say to him. I want to see him, I have no doubt about that, but it’s for my own selfish reasons. I’m not sure it’s the best thing, though. “Let’s play it by ear. I’ll call you later.”

I hope it wasn’t an obvious brush off. It’s my famous line, after all. I’ve managed to evade more second dates than I can recall using that line.

Will takes hold of my chin. His eyes are firm, resolute. “Tonight. Five. The hotel lobby. Don’t call… just be there.”

His lips attach, anxiously taking hold of mine. His words weren’t negotiable. His lips aren’t either. They make the same demand, unyielding. I give in, bending to his will, the heat of his tongue enticing me and coaxing me.

A car honking outside breaks our kiss.

“Tonight. Five. And wear something cute.” He kisses me on the tip of my nose and smacks my rear as I turn from him.

 

~*~

 

“So…” Liza lowers her car stereo to begin some sort of conversation.

We sat in silence for the first couple of minutes, I though maybe I’d get lucky and make it the entire way.

“Will’s a really, really good friend of mine,” she explains. “I look out for him. He’s been through a lot.”

I nod. Apparently I’m just learning more and more about the
stuff
he’s been through.

“How much has he told you?” she asks nonchalantly as if she was asking nothing more than the color nail polish I have on.

I’m not exactly sure it’s any of her business what Will and discuss. But, surely she must know everything that I’ve learned so far. Especially if she’s such a
really, really
good friend of his.

“He told me about his wife. That she died,” I admit. I decide the safest way to have this conversation is to stick to the facts. Anything private between Will and me is strictly off limits for little Miss Liza’s ears.

Her eyes widen. “He told you about her already? Wow. That was fast.”

I’m not sure how to take that. I decide to stay silent on the matter.

“There’s something you should know about Will. He loved his wife more than… more than a man should be able to love a woman. It killed him when she died. He never got over it. It… it did things to him. Messed with his mind.”

As if I wasn’t self-conscious enough, Liza adds a whole heaping dose of self-doubt onto my plate. She knows what she’s doing.

“I’m sure in time he’ll get back to normal, but… he stopped taking his meds, and--”

I interrupt. “I’m sorry. Did you say meds?”

Liza nods. “He was very depressed. He-- he was institutionalized for a few days. He was having delusions. Telling stories. He would do anything to have her back.”

I suddenly feel uncomfortable with the turn the conversation’s taking. Just in the nick of time, we reach the hotel. My door is locked, so I must wait for her to push the switch to free me. Once the clicking sound is heard, I pull on the latch.

“Thanks so much for the ride, Liza. I really appreciate it.” I close the door.

The window is lowered for Liza to make sure her next words can be heard.

“My pleasure. I probably won’t see you again, so have a safe trip home. I’m sorry if I was blunt, it’s just that Will is such a great friend of mine.”

I smile and nod. I got it. He’s a good friend of hers. She’s a good friend to him. Her message came across loud and clear.

She wants to make sure I know that Will has no room for me. She’s taking up all the space she thinks he has for a woman in his life.

Bitch.

 

~*~

 

“Behold my eyes! Could this be our very own little Leah doing the walk of shame?”

I roll my eyes as they have their laugh at my expense.

“So… how was it? Was it everything you thought it would be?” Nina asks as she plops onto my bed.

Courtney follows immediately, letting the heavy hotel door close itself behind her.

“Of course it was everything she thought it would be. Have you seen him? Just please tell me he looks as good naked as he I’ve hoped he does.”

I kick off my shoes and work my way out of my hoodie. “I wouldn’t know how he looks naked, Court.”

Her mouth drops open. “You spent the night at his house. How did you
not
jump all over that? You feeling okay?” She places the back of her hand against my forehead to check for fever.

“Oh, I don’t know. His dead wife kind of killed the mood,” I spit out.

By this time, Nina’s on her feet, right next to Court. “Say
what
?”

I nod, throwing my tank top into the pile of clothes that grows on the floor. I walk past them and enter the bathroom, starting the water for a shower. I have to raise my voice to be heard above the cascading water.

“The wife that he loved more than anything. The one who’s death caused him to hallucinate enough to require medication.” I rejoin them in the bedroom as they stand speechless.

I wiggle out of my leggings and they join the laundry.

“How do I know all this you ask?” I’m not really asking. “His bitchy best friend who happens to be drop-dead gorgeous told me that part. Right before she not so subtly told me to stay away.”

“Crap.” Court is genuinely upset for me. “I’m so sorry, Leah. So it’s over?”

I shrug my shoulders and close myself behind the bathroom door. I work to unlatch my bra from behind my back and open the door a crack to throw the undergarment into my pile.

“He still wants to see me tonight. I tried to turn him down. He doesn’t exactly take no for an answer.”

I jump into the shower, drenching myself.

The bathroom door opens and Court sticks her head in. “I’m making an appointment for a waxing for you. Shower quick.”

“Court! I told you. I’m not waxing and I’m probably not going to go through with seeing him either.” I lather up.

She mumbles her frustration. “Who the hell are you kidding? You know damn well you’re gonna see him. And if you’re competing with the memory of a wife
and
a friend with her claws out, then you
are
getting a wax.”

 

~*~

 

“It’s not that bad, Leah,” Court downplays my pain.

I widen my eyes at her. “I had melted wax poured on my privates. How is that not bad?”

She hands me a loaded hot dog from our tray. “The first time’s the worst. The next time won’t be so bad.”

I open up a napkin, fully expecting the contents of my heaping hot dog to overflow. “There’s not going to be a
next
time.”

She laughs. “That’s what you say now. Just wait ‘til he sees it. You’ll change your mind crazy quick.”

I’ve been looking forward to this for days. Not the wax… the hotdog. This place is famous. I close my eyes and take the first bite, savoring every morsel. It was worth the wait. Courtney opens her mouth to speak again.

I shush her. “Shh! Let me have my moment.” I take another bite.

 

~*~

 

I turn to check out the back. The full-length mirror approves. I may not have as many curves as I’d like, but I think my dark jeans are filled out nicely. Thank goodness Court and I share the same shoe size. Her heels add some height, making me a few inches taller.

I’ll still be shorter than him, but not as much. The sparkly tank top is fitted enough and I throw my little leather motorcycle jacket over it. Done. I mean… he said to look cute.

“He’s here!” Nina comes running in. She’s been on the lookout for the last fifteen minutes. With something to finally report, she’s helping to move me along, practically pushing me out the door.

I decide to take the elevator, given the shoe selection. With only three floors to travel, it doesn’t take long at all reach the lobby. The dinging of the bell sounds just as the door slides open.

I have a fleeting second of self-consciousness. Maybe I overdid it a little? The heels. The heels are too much. Any unease I feel is instantly squashed as soon as I see Will. He’s in conversation with Tom the waiter I met on my first night here, but stops mid-sentence when I catch his eye.

His perfectly placed hair looks like it’s been freshly cut, the chestnut-brown eyes are smoldering and the familiar ever present smirk is evident on his lips. The explosion of desire that fills me as I watch him watching me is enough to make me trip. I catch myself just before my foot gives out, and salvage my dignity before I complete the fall.

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