8. Evelyn
CHAPTER 8
EVELYN
Scar woke me up with two more orgasms before he got up to make breakfast. Even though he told me to go back to sleep, I don't think that's going to happen. Spotting the book he put on the nightstand this morning, I pick it up to continue reading it. I get a chapter in before he joins me with a tray loaded with a tasty looking breakfast.
“Whatever it is, it's the best breakfast I've ever had because I've never had breakfast in bed before,” I tell him as he walks in.
He pauses for a moment with a weird look on his face. Then he shakes his head and walks over the bed, setting the tray down before he joins me.
“What was that look?” I ask as he hands me a cup of coffee.
“You are so damn beautiful I catch myself wondering how no one has snatched you up before, or spoiled you with little things like breakfast in bed,”
“Simple. I was always a bit nerdy. Went to high school with the same people I went to kindergarten with. Takes the romance out of it when you’ve lived through the person's hormonal puberty years. Then I went to school close to home and kept my head down to finish and graduate a year early,” I say, taking a bite of the French toast he made that melts in my mouth.
“After college, I moved back in with my parents to help with the bills. My dad needed to retire, as his job was killing him. With me moving in and taking on half the bills, he was able to leave that job, but took on a part-time job at the hardware store. He loved earning a little extra money and being able to socialize with all the guys in town.”
“But when they died and everything fell on you, it was too much.” He finishes for me.
I nod. “If it weren't for all the medical bills, I think I would have been fine. The bills are what made it too much,” I say before taking another bite.
“Well, I say we take a lazy day today. We need to decorate the house for Christmas, and put the tree up. It's been lightly snowing, so we might be able to have some snow fun this afternoon.”
We had gotten more serious than I wanted, so I’m grateful that he changed the subject and moved on to fun stuff.
“Oh, I can make some gingerbread cookies. I saw the other night you have everything for my mom's recipe,” I say.
“Gingerbread cookies are my favorite,” Scar says with a big grin lighting up his face.
“As a kid, I always loved decorating them. I'd make a total mess, but my mom would take pictures and share them with the whole family as if I was the best artist she had ever seen,” I say.
“Then we should add cookie decoration to our list,” he says.
“Oh, I don't want to forget to tell you I have an interview at the school tomorrow. When I saw they were hiring, I had set it up before I even got here.”
He looks at me for a moment before he speaks.
“You don't have to work if you don't want to. But if you do work, I want to make sure it's at something you like.”
“I hated waiting tables, and I did that for the money. But I really do like teaching. Knowing that I made a difference in kids’ lives was the best feeling ever. Plus, I think it will be a good way for me to get to know people here in Mustang Mountain and make some friends.”
“If you are sure. Just know you don't have to work and can quit any time you aren't happy.”
Placing my hand on his arm, I say a fervent thank you.
Once we are done with breakfast, Scar takes the tray and insists I take a bath. He even gets the water going for me and adds some non-scented bath salts. When I look at him, ready to ask why, he shrugs. “The salts are good for the muscles after a long day,” is all he says before heading out of the room and leaving me to take a bath.
When I sink into the gloriously hot water, it’s so relaxing, I close my eyes and let my mind wander. It's then I realize I can't remember the last time I had a hot bath like this. My muscles clearly need it because I'm starting to feel like Jell-O. I don't know how long I'm in the bath, but the water cools, and I don't open my eyes again until I hear Scar’s voice.
“Don't go falling asleep in the tub on me now,” he says with a chuckle before kneeling down beside me.
“This is exactly what I needed. Thank you,” I tell him as he drains the water, then stands and helps me from the tub.
After wrapping a big, fluffy towel around me, he pulls me in for a kiss.
“Get dressed in something warm. I have the fireplaces going, but it's still chilly in the rest of the cabin,” Scar says, kissing me again.
I just melt against his hard body, feeling his muscles, those hard abs, while enjoying his strength. In his arms, I feel safe and secure, and that's how I know I'm making the right choice by marrying him. I didn’t think you could fall in love this fast, but what I feel for him is strong and passionate. If it’s not love, then it's pretty damn close. No matter what, I know I'll be safe with him, and happy.
“Get dressed. I already set up the Christmas tree, and it's time to decorate it,” he says, pulling away from me, then leaving the bathroom.
Getting dressed, I’m excited and also impressed that he already got so much done this morning. Maybe I was in the tub longer than I thought.
I pull on a pair of fuzzy socks because my feet are always cold and then head out to see what he’s done. The tree is in the corner of the living room beside the fireplace. The white lights are already on, and even without the decorations, it looks like something out of a holiday movie.
He has a few open boxes on the floor beside the couch, ready for us to dig into.
“I figure you can go through the boxes and decorate how you see fit. I'm here to follow your orders,” he says, smiling.
We spend the next few hours going through all the boxes and pulling out decorations. He tells me the stories behind some of his hand-me-downs from his parents, and the few he picked up over the years.
“Do you have anything from your parents you were able to save?” he asks.
“I have some boxes, Mom's jewelry, and some photos. They are in a storage unit back in Kentucky,” I say, inwardly cringing. “It's all stuff I couldn't get rid of, but I have no idea how to get it here.”
“Well, I'd love to see where you grew up. How about I pay for the storage unit for the next few months and this spring we take a road trip, and we can visit, and get your stuff?”
“You'd do that? Really?” I ask, completely shocked. I thought I’d have to get a part-time job to save money to have everything shipped.
“You will see I mean what I say and there isn't anything I won't do for you,” he says, catching me off guard.
“Thank you,” is all I say because I’m without words.
We finish up the Christmas decorating, then close the curtains and turn on the Christmas lights. The glow sets a romantic mood, and we end up making leisurely love by the fire before we finally make our way to the kitchen to make those cookies.
The whole time, Scar can't keep his hands off me. Not that I want him to. But it gives me pleasure knowing that he loves my body just the way it is.
It ends up taking twice as long to make the cookies as it did when my mom and I made them, but I enjoy every moment of the kisses between each step.
When the cookies are finally done and cooling on the counter, Scar holds up my coat.
“Let's go outside before it gets dark. I think there is enough snow to build a snowman, and it's supposed to be cold enough for a few weeks that he shouldn't melt anytime soon,” he says.
“I used to love building snowmen with my dad.Our neighborhood would all build them in front of the houses, and we'd always go outside to see each other’s. You should have seen some of the snowmen the neighborhood came up with.” I laugh.
“Tell me,” he says as we go outside.
“One year, a neighbor made a zombie snowman when it snowed on Halloween. Another year, Dad made a mermaid snowman because I was obsessed with mermaids. He bought edible glitter paint and everything to color it up. I have photos in a box back home. The year the movie Frozen came out, all the houses made a version of Olaf. There was a whole write up in the paper and everything.”
While I’m talking, Scar has a blast making a regular snowman surrounded by two baby snowmen. He even tries to make a snowman on a motorcycle, but it keeps falling apart.
I'm watching him when I hear some rustling in the woods and look behind me to see the largest wolf I think I've ever seen walk out of the trees. I yelp and jump behind Scar, who looks up and laughs.
The bastard laughs at the wolf.
“This isn't funny,” I hiss, trying to stay still, hoping the large animal will run back into the woods.
“We aren't in danger. This is just Hades,” Scar says, walking over to the wolf and petting him like he’s a large dog.
“Is he a neighbor’s pet?” I’m confused.
“No, he's more like a town pet. A buddy of mine rescued him as a pup. He raised him and released him when he could fend for himself. But he loves attention and anything with peanut butter. Also, he likes to be scratched behind the ears, and he's even helped us a few times against Savage Bones this last year.”
“Come pet him.” He holds out his hand.
Like Hades can tell I'm nervous, he lies down and looks at me with what I swear is a huge smile on his face. Slowly, I walk over and take Scar’s hand before reaching down to pet Hades. As soon as I scratch behind his ear, he closes his eyes and rubs against my leg like my neighbor's cat used to do.
He lets me pet him for a minute before he stands up, licks my hand, and runs back off into the woods.
“Come on, let's go get warm,” Scar says.
The sun is starting to set, and it's a great end to what I think is a perfect day. Now, if I can just not let my nerves get the best of me in my interview, I’ll be set.