Chapter 12 Ambidextrous
Ambidextrous
Acid churned in my stomach, and my cell phone nearly tumbled from my trembling grasp.
How could he have this much power over me? Still?
Standing in my towel, fresh from the shower, I wanted nothing more than to get back in as if the hot water could rinse away my fear and hatred.
Though the summer sun shone brightly, I stood shivering, looking down at messages that were already burned into my brain.
Unknown Number: I saw you in Mistlevale yesterday, but you were too wrapped up in your new boyfriend to notice me. The fucking ink is barely dry, Bridget. Never known a woman who’s so fucking needy.
Unknown Number: You’re like a bitch in heat.
Unknown Number: I bet you’re wondering what I was doing in Mistlevale.
Unknown Number: You know that cute little chocolate shoppe you spent so much time in? I own half of it.
Unknown Number: Apparently, chocolate is a good investment. Who would have known?
I yelped as it buzzed in my hand with a final jab, this one hitting home.
Unknown Number: By the way, Jakey wants to know why his ‘mommy’ never calls.
My knees turned to jelly a second before my ass hit the bed. I tossed the phone aside and covered my face with my hands.
Jakey.
Barely crawling when Gary and I met, he used to call me mommy. He was my world, then Gary ripped him away from me as surely as he stole everything else.
I rocked back and forth.
It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I picked up my phone. With shaking fingers, I blocked him.
I should have stopped reading after the first message, as soon as I realized the new number was him.
Over the past two years, I’d considered changing my number hundreds of times, but this was the contact on all my business cards. It was the number all my previous business partners had for me.
I could, of course, send them an updated contact, but considering I was technically out of business? Why would they bother?
And how would Jakey ever contact me, even if he wanted to?
I didn’t have his number to send him my new contact. Gary made sure of that when he found out I’d been talking to him after he kicked me out.
Carefully setting my phone face down on my nightstand, I completed my morning routine with deep intention, taking extra time to massage in my face cream and slather body lotion on my legs before heading downstairs to make myself a cup of hot cocoa.
No matter how hot it was outside, inside I was frozen. For years chocolate had been my only solace.
And after that unwelcome blast from the past, solace was exactly what I needed.
Anita was out front chatting with a few of her regulars. I wandered around the kitchen listlessly, cursing Gary, then cursing myself harder for letting him get to me.
Suddenly having the day off seemed more like a curse than a blessing. I hadn’t quite decided which when I decided to go for a walk.
As soon as the chatter out front died down, I made my exit.
“Whoa, slow down, Bridge. What happened?” Anita held her palm up in front of my chest.
I shook my head and looked down, unwilling to show anyone the toll that man’s words took from me.
Her lips thinned. “Did that prick contact you?”
I gave a short nod, closing my eyes to brace myself for the lecture that was sure to come.
Changing my number was the smartest move, but hope burned eternal, and no matter how I reasoned with myself, changing that number was tantamount to snuffing it out.
And thank God hope was as yet more powerful still than fear.
“I’m sorry, Bridget. You don’t deserve that. And he never deserved you.”
I finally allowed my eyes to meet hers.
Warm with compassion, she gripped my upper arms. “Oh, my darling girl. I do not like to see you like this. My brother would have taken a bat to his fat head, I know he would.”
I barked out a laugh and then tears welled in my eyes. It was at times like these I desperately missed my parents. “Probably,” I agreed, my voice strained. “He would have done something crazy by now.”
She drew me into her arms. “We women need a little crazy in our lives to protect us from the psychos.”
“It’s true,” I sniffed, then extricated myself from her arms and palmed the moisture off my cheeks. “I’m going to have to manufacture my own crazy, Auntie.”
“I’ll be your sidekick,” she promised.
I turned away from the door at the sound of the tinkling bell overhead.
“Good morning, Kian,” Anita greeted him with a smile.
“Morning, Anita. Hey, Bridge,” he responded.
“Hey, good morning,” I rasped, turning around to face him with a bright smile on my face.
“Bridge,” he asked, soft eyes creasing with concern. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head and held onto my smile. “Nothing.”
His voice deepened. “Bridget, right now, you tell me what’s wrong.”
My eyes widened at that tone I loved so much, the one that told me he’d had enough. I opened my mouth to speak then snapped it shut. When I simply stared at him, he pinned his hands to his waist and rocked back on his heels, studying me.
Shaking his head, he dropped his hands and strode toward me. Wrapping his arm around my shoulders, he tucked me against his side and turned me toward the door. Tossing a glance back at Anita, he said, “We’ll be back.”
She called after me. “Did you say manufacture? Or manifest?”
I froze for a second then began to laugh.
He squeezed me closer, murmuring, “What’s so funny?”
I shook my head.
“You’re not going to tell me that either?” he teased as he pushed to door open.
I began to unwind as soon as the warmth of the sun hit me. “There’s not really anything to tell.”
He led me to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door. “Then it won’t take long. Up you get.”
God, it felt good to let someone else take over for half a minute.
His hand firm at the small of my back felt better.
He closed the door then jogged around the front of the truck and slid behind the wheel.
I huffed out a small laugh. “Where are we going?”
He dipped his chin to check his mirrors as he reversed out of his parking spot. “You have anywhere you need to be?”
I shook my head. “Not really. But I don’t even have my purse.”
“I have my wallet if you need anything.” He paused to look at me, his hand pausing on the gear shift. “You good with that?”
I nodded slowly, surprised to find that I was indeed okay with that. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” He smiled wryly at my sidelong glance. “Put your head back and relax. We’re not going far.” Palming the wheel, he pulled out onto the main road. “I was actually coming by to find out if you were free today.”
Only a few minutes in his presence and my stomach settled. “Will you tell me where we’re going now?” Even my voice was almost back to normal.
“I’m going to look at a house. Thought you might want to see.”
I sat straighter. “I do, but didn’t you buy one of the other ones?”
He nodded. “I put offers on both. I’m not sure about this one, but I think there’s something special about it.” He smiled at me. “I need a woman’s perspective.”
“I knew you were only after me for my vagina,” I teased.
He chuckled. “And she’s back.”
A few minutes later, Kian pulled his truck into a gravel driveway leading up to a small white house trimmed in what used to be bright green.
There was no garage, but two outbuildings out back were just barely visible through the overgrown hedges crowding the side of the house.
I pointed. “Is one of those the garage?”
He nodded and placed his hand at the small of my back. “One is the garage, the other is probably a tear-down.”
The porch creaked beneath our feet as Kian keyed the code in the lockbox on the door.
“Nobody lives here?”
He shook his head. “Not for a while.” He looked down at me, serious eyes flitting back and forth between mine. “It needs a lot of work, but I want to see if you see what I do.”
Inside, scuff marks covered almost every visible inch of the old wood floors. In some areas it looked like someone had taken an ice pick to them.
I chewed my bottom lip. “Nobody was murdered here, right?”
Kian slowly turned around to face me, head tilted to the side, brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
I pointed to the floors. “The ice pick murders. Did they happen here?”
Facing me fully, he perched his fists on his hips. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“The floors!” I stomped over to him and pointed out the gouges in the hallway. “It looks like someone took an ice pick to them.”
He laughed. “The only thing that was murdered here was the floors.” With his hand at the small of my back, he led me back to the front door. “I can see you’re going to need a bit of assistance with this exercise.”
Standing behind me with his large hands cupping my shoulders, he lowered his voice and spoke quietly in my ear. “You walk in the front door. What do you do with your purse?”
“The one I don’t have?” I asked wryly.
He chuckled. “Yes. That one.”
His hands felt good, right, cupped over my shoulders. I looked around the small entryway, praying Kian didn’t notice the tightening of my nipples under my thin, summer shirt.
After my first apartment which was a bit of a scratch and dent mess, I moved into Gary’s professionally decorated monstrosity where I quickly learned not to stamp my own or any personality at all on it.
“I’ve never really designed or decorated a house,” I admitted.
He squeezed, his voice dropping. “Then this should be fun for you.” After a pause he added, “There are no wrong answers.”
I blew out a breath and looked to my left. “Built-in shelves with cubbies for purses and bags and maybe a basket or two, hooks underneath for coats.”
“Excellent,” he murmured, turning me to face the family room. “Now what?”
I froze, unable to see anything past the peeling wallpaper and layers of dust. I shrugged, stuck.
“Okay, let’s backtrack. You’ve just come in from a walk on the beach and hung up your purse. What next?”
Immediately, I looked to the kitchen.
He automatically steered me in that direction then let me go.
I walked to the old sink. “I come in here for a large glass of water and look out the window to see if,” I paused and turned to face him where he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. I pointed to the wall above the sink, “can I put a window here?”
He nodded. “Consider it done.”
I nodded and turned back to my imaginary window. “I look out the window and…”
“What do you see, Bridget?” He murmured.
“Bed sheets billowing on the line,” I whispered. “A firepit surrounded by Adirondack chairs. An outdoor pizza oven.” I gave myself a little shake. “Is the family living here wealthy?”
“You picture a family here?”
I turned in surprise. “Don’t you? This is a real home,” I asserted.
He dipped his chin in agreement.
“An outdoor pizza oven.” I glanced at him to assess his reaction. “Barbecues are nice, but an outdoor pizza oven? That would be unique.”
“I’m beginning to get the full picture.” He smiled and waved me forward. “Carry on.”
“This kitchen is huge. I see bench seating along those two walls with hidden storage underneath. One of those raw edge butcher block tables with three thick, sturdy chairs, two along the side, one on the end.”
Moving into the allotted dining room area, I pinched my chin. “I don’t think I’d put a dining room set here.”
“Of course not,” he teased. “The family who lives here is outside eating pizza.”
“Exactly!” I laughed. “This room would be a library.” I tilted my head to the side. “A narrow desk along that wall with a couple of chairs. Can we put a big window on that wall as well?”
He nodded, and his eyes narrowed as he took in my suggestions.
The fact he considered my suggestions warmed me to my toes. I smiled widely. “This is fun! I see why you do this!”
His eyes crinkled. “Want to be my partner? Help me make her beautiful?”
I snorted. “I wish I had that kind of talent.”
He jerked his chin toward the family room. “And here?”
“Ah, yes,” I mused, fully immersed in our game. “A huge reading chair in that corner. It’s pink and there’s a fluffy, cream blanket slung over the back.”
“Pink?”
I leveled him with my most serious gaze. “Pink.”
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“The front window is wider and overlooks a swing on the porch. Can this brick fireplace be saved?”
He dropped to his knees to peer up inside the fireplace as his jeans stretched taut across his thighs and cradled his butt. I tore my gaze away.
Keeping Kian at arm’s length was becoming more difficult by the day if not the hour.
Based on things he said, he was struggling as much as I was. I drew in a shaky breath. I had to keep my head on straight.
There was too much at stake.
For him more than me.
Dusting off his hands, he rolled to his feet. “I don’t see why not. Would you keep it as a wood-burning fireplace?”
“Maybe,” I murmured. “It depends if there are small children. New wood floors!” I burst. “Wide-plank, oak floors with plush rugs.” I sighed and stood looking out the front window. “It’s a beautiful house. Perfect for a family.”
Coming up behind me, Kian looped his arms around my waist and pulled me gently back to rest against his hard chest. “Will you tell me what upset you?”
My first impulse was to pull away, but he’d shared so much of himself with me. I opened my messages and handed him my phone.
But I kept my back to him.
His chest rumbled with displeasure. “Your ex?”
I nodded.
“Who’s Jakey?”
“His youngest son,” I murmured. “I was his second mother until Gary decided I wasn’t a good influence.”
He spun me around and tucked me into his chest. “He’s wrong. On all counts, he’s wrong.”
I wrapped my arms around his broad back and clung to his solid form. “How do you know?”
“Bridge, you’re sunshine after the rain. You’re caring and nurturing and Jakey missed the fuck out because of his asshole father.”
I settled deeper into him.
Tucked my head neatly under his chin.
“As far as being needy,” he muttered roughly while I tensed in his arms. “A man can’t ask for more than the woman he loves to share her body with him. And if she’s generous? I’m not sure there’s anything better.”
“What if she’s greedy? Or,” I swallowed, “a little kinky?”
“Bridget.” His tone held a note of warning.
I moved to pull away, but he jerked me closer.
Dropping his mouth to the top of my head, he murmured, “I’d give my right arm.”
I closed my eyes.
We were skirting dangerously close to the edge.
I tipped my chin back and looked up into his serious face, doing my utmost to hide my smile. “Then I hope, for her sake, you’re a lefty.”
He grinned as his arms tightened around me further. “It’s a good thing I’m ambidextrous.”