Chapter 12
12
MARCUS
I glance at the time once more. I’ve been doing that a lot since I came inside to clean up. The anticipation of her arrival is killing me.
After taking care of the boat and getting Grandpa’s truck put away, I got everything out to clean the fish. Usually, I wouldn’t worry about one singular fish, but I want Ryan to experience it all. Sure, we might have experienced a little too much, considering we both took an unplanned dip in the lake. Eating our catch is all part of it.
Anytime Grandpa and I went, we always cleaned and cooked our catch. When Grandma was still alive, she’d be waiting back at the cabin, the supplies ready for our return. I remember asking Grandpa why she didn’t help, and I’ll never forget his answer. Cleaning the fish and doing the dishes afterward is all part of it. If we catch the fish, we clean ’em. Never expect a woman to have to clean anything, especially when we’re perfectly capable of doing it ourselves.
Not that I have a woman to clean—or do anything else around here—but I’ve never forgotten that. Grandpa would always help clean the house, insisting we pick up after ourselves. And likewise, Grandma was always capable, and sometimes very happy to help keep up the outside chores. She mowed and would pick up sticks. Even handwash vehicles in the driveway. It wasn’t until the cancer took over her body that she stopped, and within a few months, Grandpa and I were the only ones left to do all of it.
Since I’ve been fishing and taking care of my catch since I was little, it took me no time to get our dinner cut and soaking in a bowl of salt water. Then, I went inside to shower. My dick was still hard throughout the whole thing, as memories of Ryan and that kiss filtered through my brain. I almost reached down and grabbed a hold of it to relieve some of the pressure but decided against it. My luck, she would have shown up early and found me stroking one off in the shower. Not exactly the impression I want to make with her.
Now that I have the lake and fish washed off me, I’m in the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make with the fish. Spotting a few potatoes, I pull those out and start dicing. They’ll be great with some avocado oil and seasoning, roasted until brown and crispy.
Just as I pull a few fresh vegetables out of the drawer, a knock sounds. Buddy instantly starts barking, his legs carrying him as fast as possible to the front door.
“Hi, Buddy,” I hear Ryan say as I round the corner, and the front door comes into view.
“You can come in,” I say, reaching the entrance and pushing open the screen door. “You stay and be good,” I tell the dog, who’s eager to jump and play with our new visitor.
She enters my home and glances around. “Wow, this is just as beautiful as the outside.”
I glance around the open living room, with the floor-to-ceiling windows and the stone fireplace. The furniture is comfortable, and the TV is mounted over the fireplace. It’s a tad bit too large for the space, but it suits me just fine, even though I don’t watch it much. “Thanks,” I reply, stepping back so she can take it all in.
My eyes are on her.
She’s wearing another one of those sundresses with the thin straps. This one’s green with little white and pink flowers on it, and it hugs her slender waist and the curve of her breasts like it was designed specifically for her.
Hell, for all I know it was.
Someone of her status and wealth can surely have their designer clothes custom made, right?
My eyes travel down to what’s covering her feet. They’re strappy little things that tie in some intricate bow around her lower calf. I don’t know why I find them so sexy. Maybe it’s because they remind me of lingerie. You know, ties and bows and if you give it one little tug, it exposes the goods behind it?
“Do I get a tour, or can I just wander around and snoop?” she asks, glancing back at me with a mischievous smile on her pink lips.
“I can give you a tour,” I confirm, hands shoved in my pockets, so I don’t reach out and touch her. “Buddy, go lay down.” He does as instructed, walking over to the elevated bed I bought for him. He grabs his bone and starts to go to town.
Ryan falls in line with me as I move toward the back of the cabin. “Let me guess, bedroom first, right?”
I crack a crooked smile. “After I feed you,” I reply. “You’re going to need the nutrients.”
I swear I witness a shiver run through her body at my comment. “Okay then.”
“There’s one bedroom down here,” I tell her, showing her the guest bedroom. It has a full-size bed and a dresser, but other than that, I use it for storage. Not that I have a lot of stuff, but sometimes it’s easier than taking it down to the basement.
“Nice. Do you have a lot of visitors?” she asks curiously.
I don’t even have to think about it. “Not one,” I state, earning a laugh.
“Then why do you have a guest room?”
I shrug my shoulders, glancing around the room. “I don’t know. I guess when I built this place, it was customary to have one. But all my friends live in town here, and I don’t have any family, so I don’t really need it.”
Her chocolate eyes transform into sadness. “You don’t have any family?”
I shake my head, hating this conversation. Not that I’ve had it a lot over the years. The locals know my story, and the women I tend to sleep with don’t really care. I’m there for one reason, and it’s not small talk.
“Come on, let’s finish the tour,” I say, exiting the spare bedroom. “Bathroom here,” I say, pointing to the open door, “and laundry room. The original house plan was for two bedrooms downstairs and the laundry room either in a small room off the kitchen or in the basement, and I didn’t like either option. I barely use one guest room, let alone two, so I turned it into the laundry room and made the bathroom bigger.”
“It suits the space,” she says. “And with those enclosed cabinets, you get a lot of storage.”
I nod, turning and heading for the stairs. Ryan doesn’t say a word as we move up. Each step we take echoes off the hardwood, and once we clear the landing, the master bedroom comes into view. It’s completely open with a picturesque view. In the front, there’s a railing that looks over the living room, as well as the windows at the front of the cabin. So even when I’m in my bedroom, I can see the driveway and front of the property. And at the back of the room, more of the windows that aim directly at the back of the property where it meets the lake.
“Wow,” Ryan whispers, stepping into the open space. With her hand on the railing, she moves into my bedroom, taking it all in. I can’t help but realize she’s one of the very few women to ever be in this room.
I stand back and watch her. She slowly walks to the bed, a king-size masterpiece I handmade when I built this cabin. It’s rustic, made from old barn wood from the original barn beside my grandparents’ cabin. It suffered severe damage from a tree falling on it when I was in high school and ended up being torn down and replaced.
“Closet’s the first door on the right and bathroom the second.”
She walks over to the closet, places her hand on the knob, and grins. I don’t stop her, so she turns the handle and steps inside. “Holy shitballs!”
I can’t help but chuckle.
Her head pokes out, her eyes wide as she meets my gaze. “This is…huge!”
I shrug, knowing I fill very little of it. When I say I’m a simple man, I mean it.
She returns inside. “I could totally fill this bad boy,” she says, and even though I know she’s not meaning literally, right now, my heart skips a beat at the idea.
When she makes her way out of the closet, she shakes her head. “Did you use an interior designer? Because most closets don’t have anything more than a shelf and a basic hanging bar. But that is perfect.”
“Hallie helped me,” I state with a shrug.
“Well, she has an amazing sense of style. She really used the space to its full potential.”
“It’s the same size as the bathroom. When I built it, it was just easier to divide the whole space in half.”
Her eyes widen. “Wait, you built this? Like…the whole thing?”
“Well, not the shell. I paid a contractor to pour the basement, do the entire outside of the cabin, and all the support beams outside. I did the inside.”
Her mouth drops open. “Yourself?”
Again, I shrug my shoulders. “I had help. My friends would come over, especially Logan. He owns the lumberyard and hardware store in town, so he helped a lot.”
She looks around the room once more. “I can’t believe you built this.”
Feeling uncomfortable with the kudos, I say, “It wasn’t too hard. My grandpa was great with his hands. Not only as a mechanic, but he could build about anything. He taught me a lot and helped through the whole process.”
She looks around the lofted room with the high ceilings and exposed beams. “Wow, I guess, I’ve never really known anyone who actually does the building. I’ve seen some amazing architecture, but I suppose never really thought much of the build.” She gives me a look I can’t decipher and turns her attention to the bathroom. With a wide grin, she heads straight for the doorway and walks inside.
“Oh my God!” she bellows from within. “I don’t know which I love more, the closet or the bathroom.”
That makes me smile, because personally, I love the bathroom. I put a lot of extra work into the shower, since it’s one of the most-used spots upstairs, and there’s nothing better than a long, hot shower after a day of work. Especially in my line of work. But I can see the attraction for a woman like Ryan. The soaker tub was something Hallie pushed for, claiming most women would lose their minds—and their panties—for a chance to sit in the tub. Personally, I find it gross to sit in my own filth, but whatever. And chances are slim to none that a woman will ever be here long enough to enjoy the very tub Hallie insisted I get.
But I can see Ryan sitting in there, the jets creating bubbles around her glorious breasts as she leans back and relaxes.
In fact, that just might be one of my fantasies.
“Wow, Marcus,” she starts, returning from the bathroom. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting all this.”
“All what?” I inquire, even though I pretty much know what she’s going to say. People have been making assumptions and underestimating me my entire life, thanks to the fact I’m just a small-town grease monkey raised by his grandparents. Just because I don’t mind getting my hands dirty doesn’t mean I can’t do anything else. I’m good with my hands, period, and that includes small or large construction projects.
“Such a lovely home. Not that your cabin isn’t beautiful from the outside, but there’s no…I don’t know, woman’s touch? Flowers or landscaping or those little garden welcome flags. But the inside, while sparsely decorated, has beautiful bones and features. It’s like a woman, sometimes they just need a little makeup and skincare products to enhance their natural beauty.”
I watch her, noting the passion filling her eyes at even the mention of makeup. I may not understand the obsession some get with makeup, but I can certainly respect her take on it. It seems like she’s not just out to make millions of dollars, peddling crappy product. If what she’s wearing is from her own line and her videos teach women how to apply it tastefully and without looking like it was done with a paintbrush and a putty knife, then good for her.
She walks toward me, that glint in her eyes darkening. It makes my cock jump in my jeans. “I bet the women are lining up to use that tub,” she says when she reaches me. Her manicured nails dance across my pecs.
I shrug my shoulders, trying not to be a total douche and just stare down at the cleavage of her dress. “I wouldn’t know. No one has ever used it.”
Her face reflects her shock. “What? Seriously?”
My hand wraps around her slender waist, gently drawing her body closer to mine. “Nope. Never.”
“That’s…criminal, Marcus.”
I snort. “I can think of a lot of things that are considered criminal, but no one taking a bath in my tub isn’t one of them.”
Exasperated, she huffs out a long breath. “No, I’m serious. Any woman would fall at your feet for just an hour in that bad boy. I mean, the jets, the steam, the massager.”
“There’s a massager?”
Her mouth falls open. “Are you joking? That pad with the little knobs on it is a massager, Marcus. How did you not know that?”
Again, I lift my shoulders casually. “I don’t know. Hallie picked it after I had the space specifications ironed out. That’s probably why the damn thing was so expensive,” I say, scratching my chin with my available hand.
“Uhh, yeah. I imagine it wasn’t cheap,” she states incredulously. “I can’t believe it’s never been used. I bet you’d like it. You know, after a long, hard day, you can fill it with hot water, some lavender oils, and use that massager. Your back and your muscles would thank you.”
“A shower does all that,” I reason, even though it really doesn’t.
“No, it most certainly does not. One of these days, I’ll show you. We’ll get you all set up with a nice, relaxing bath, and you can try out the jets and massager.”
My eyebrows shoot toward my hairline. “You’re gonna show me…from inside the tub? That’s pretty much the only way I can envision enjoying that thing.”
“So, there has to be a naked woman in there with you in order to take a bath?”
A smile stretches across my lips. “Absolutely.”
She sighs. “Don’t sound like there’d be much relaxing going on.”
“Oh, there won’t be,” I assure her, giving her side a gentle squeeze before releasing my hold on her. “What do you say we head down, and I start dinner.”
“I assume that’s not a euphemism for anything dirty, right?”
I snort a laugh. “Nope. Unless you want it to be,” I reply with a wink.
“For an hour in that bathtub, I might be willing to negotiate,” she says, moving toward the stairs.
My cock? It goes completely hard in my jeans. I can practically feel her mouth around me, which makes it incredibly difficult to walk down the stairs without looking like I’m suddenly bowlegged.
When we reach the kitchen, Buddy jumps up and joins us. Ryan enters the open space and looks around. “Wow, this is beautiful too.”
“Do you cook?” I find myself asking, approaching the bowls with the cut potatoes and sliced vegetables ready to go in the oven.
Ryan laughs. “Uhh, no. I’m a pro at reading a menu though.” She makes a face, knowing how that makes her sound. “That probably makes me snobby or spoiled, and I suppose I am. My parents had a live-in assistant, and by that I mean a woman who cooked, cleaned, and practically took care of everything house-related. Not to mention the gardener who came two times a week to take care of any mowing, landscaping, and the pool.
“You had a pool?” I ask, starting the oven to roast the potatoes.
“In Southern California, everyone has a pool,” she states with a smirk.
“Well, in northwest Wisconsin, not many do. Especially with the lake so close. If people want to go swimming, they just go there.”
She makes a face. “Charming.”
I bark out a laugh and place the potatoes on a greased cookie sheet. “You get used to it.”
Once the timer is set, I get the vegetables situated in the steamer basket. I have carrots, asparagus, broccoli, and red pepper all sliced and ready. The water starts to boil, so I turn down the heat and place the basket inside, tossing a slice of raw carrot straight into Buddy’s open mouth. I read online that carrots and broccoli are a healthy snack for dogs, so he’s been given just a couple of small pieces while I was slicing them earlier.
“What is that contraption?” she asks, peeking inside the steamer before I close the lid, giving Buddy a pet on the head as she does.
“It’s a steamer. I bought if off Amazon.” Turning around, I lean against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. “I try to grill my food as much as possible, but I love steamed vegetables. So this twenty-dollar appliance is one of my best friends.”
Her face turns a cute shade of pink. “I’m embarrassed to admit, I didn’t even know how they made steamed vegetables,” she confesses with an uncomfortable laugh.
“Well, now you do,” I reply, trying not to make a big deal about it, even though her privilege is showing.
The air starts to thicken around us, filling with sexual tension. It seems to accompany us whenever we’re together. It rode shotgun in my truck earlier today, and it’s just as heady now in my kitchen. It’s one of the reasons I invited her to join me tonight.
Knowing I only have a few minutes until I need to cook the fish, I let a lazy grin cover my lips and ask, “So, let’s negotiate this whole bathtub thing.”