Chapter Fifteen
KINLEY
FOR TWO and a half days, he’s avoided me. Ever since the kiss on my head, he leaves for work early and doesn’t get home until late. I get it, he feels like he crossed some invisible line or something, but no need to make me feel like I’m contagious.
Since I have my painting supplies, it’s not so bad. And Swan keeps me company when he’s not holed up in the office working. He’s on the phone a lot, so I rarely go into the office to instigate conversation.
There’s a corner of Abbot’s living room that has a big arched picture window that looks out over the front yard. His living room is painted a soft butter-yellow color, and the wooden beams across the ceiling and around the windows give it a warm, glowing aesthetic.
The cream-colored couch, with terracotta-colored pillows, stands out on the area rug of the same color, draped over the tile floor. It’s very homey-cozy.
The combination of the colorful living room and the green background and flowering bushes outside inspired me to paint the piece I just finished.
It’s heavy on brushstrokes, and I really like the way the colors pop in their own abstract way.
I can easily imagine him sitting on the fluffy couch, so I added him.
He’s blurry from the technique I used, but it’s obvious it’s him lounging on the couch with his arm draped across the back.
His head is turned toward the lens of the painting, his dark, blurry eyes looking at me.
I like it.
Being able to focus on something that connects me to him makes me feel less… pouty about his avoidance of me.
I usually feel a sense of accomplishment when I finish a piece, but now that it’s done, I just feel lonely.
With a sigh, I look out the kitchen window at the pretty blue water in the pool. It’s nearly a hundred degrees in the shade outside, and it sure looks inviting.
Swan is on the phone, talking to someone about search warrants or something, so I tap on the office door just to let him know I’m here.
He turns and waves me in as he wraps up his phone call.
Leaning against the wall, I listen to him talk FBI language with legal jargon and police lingo.
I’m not interested, but I wait patiently for him to get done.
After he hangs up, he sets his phone face down on the desk and turns to me with a smile. “What’s up?”
Crossing my arms, I rest my back against the wall. “Do you guys always work such long, wonky hours?”
His smile gets bigger. “Yep, our hours aren’t set. Why? You getting tired of me?”
Tilting my head, I smile back. “I could never get tired of you.”
Does that mean Abbot really is avoiding me?
The day we were at the cabin, he did most of his work from the kitchen.
Does he have the option of doing that from here?
Does he always have to have Swan here? “Oh.” My heart sinks.
“Is it normal to put in twelve-hour days every day? Doesn’t your wife get upset? ”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Sometimes, but she knew what she was marrying into, so she’s much more tolerant than some other wives. Well, those that stick around, anyway. I always make it up to her.”
“What do you mean? Do they leave?”
He huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes. “In droves. This life isn’t easy on spouses, there’s a lot of alone time. I count myself lucky I got a good one.”
I remind myself that once this is over, I’ll probably never see Abbot again, and that makes me sad.
“What can I do you for?” He breaks through the dark cloud that is settling over me.
Shaking my head, I look at him. “Didn’t I see some earbuds in here somewhere?”
He turns and looks around the desk. “Here!” He grabs a little black box and hands it to me.
“Thanks.” I turn and leave the room, my mood getting gloomier by the minute.
The cicadas are singing loud as I pull myself out of the cool, clear pool and wring the water out of my hair. I wanted to see how many laps I could swim in a pool since I’ve never done it before, and I found out quickly that I suck at it. At one point, the side of the pool brushed against my arm.
I started out in the middle.
Chuckling to myself, I grab the towel on the lounger and twist it around my hair to absorb more water and toss it over the back of the chair.
I can’t believe I’m winded from just swimming across the pool four times, I feel like I ran a mile.
I don’t know how athletes do it, I’d never survive in any type of athletics.
It’s scary to think that I would probably be caught if I were running from a bad guy.
Pulling up Abbot’s streaming music app that he left the password to, I connect the earbuds and put them in my ears.
The sun is hot on my skin as I close my eyes and relax against the lounger, soaking up my vitamin D.
I wish I had my weed right now, but I didn’t bring it, I figured the FBI agent I’m staying with might not like it.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been lying here, maybe four or five songs, when a shadow blocks my sun. Keeping one eye closed, I lift my hand to shade the other, thinking I’m going to see Swan, but a man I’ve never seen before is standing over me.
He’s older and has darker features like Rhys, and is wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt in the sweltering heat with a bandana tied around his head, and he’s all sweaty.
Oh fuck.
Did they find me?
With a yelp, I twist and slide off the other side of the lounger onto the hot concrete to put it between us, the earbuds fall out of my ears with the impact.
When I try to stand up, I slip and scrape my palms and a knee on the concrete, and I have to try again to stand upright. The man watches me, looking bewildered, as I keep the lounger between us. When I turn to run to the house, I bounce off a wall of muscle.
Two powerful arms wrap around me to keep me from falling, and I look up into a set of dark brown eyes, looking at me in surprise. I’m breathing so hard I can’t talk, but I just point at the man. He lifts his head to glance at him and then back down at me.
He shakes his head, gripping my head with both hands. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, he’s my gardener. He takes care of the yard. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you.”
My whole body sags, and my eyes close in relief. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I’m whispering what I’m thinking without realizing it. I fist Abbot’s shirt in each hand over his hips and let my forehead rest against his chest. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s okay.”
His arms go around me again, and he holds me to him as my breathing goes back to normal. He speaks Spanish over my head, the man by the lounger responds in Spanish.
The tone of the conversation quickly goes from explanatory to laughter.
“That’s why the long sleeves and the bandana, to protect him from the sun.” I’m still whisper-panting, mainly to myself. Abbot smells good, his usual dark spicy scent is wrapped around me, and I inhale the scent of safety as my breathing goes back to normal.
I feel like a jumpy idiot.
“She okay?” I hear Swan’s voice, he’s behind Abbot, who has his chin on my head.
“Yeah, just spooked.” Abbot’s deep voice rumbles in his chest. Keeping one arm around me, he leans to the lounger and grabs the towel I discarded earlier before holding it up behind me, wrapping it possessively around my nearly naked body.
“I’m sorry.” I mumble into his shirt. “Will you tell him I’m sorry? I think I spooked him.”
Abbot chuckles deep in his chest. “You did, but there’s nothing to be sorry for. I forgot to tell you he comes on Fridays.”
He grips my head and makes me look up at him. His eyebrows move up his forehead. “You okay?”
As I’m nodding, Swan says, “You’re bleeding.”
I forgot I slipped on the concrete and look at my knee. Blood is trickling down my shin. “Oh, shit.” I whisper as the adrenaline is wearing off and my palms start to burn and ache.
“What?” Abbot asks as he looks over my face.
I wince as I look up at him. “Promise not to get mad?”
His eyebrows pull together as he continues to stare at me.
“I’ll get a new one. I promise. So don’t get mad.”
Letting go of his shirt, I hold my hands up to show him the bloody scrapes on the pads of my palms just over my wrists. I look at his cream-colored shirt and see the blood spots sprinkled through the wrinkles in the fabric where I grabbed it.
Holding his arms out to the sides, he looks down at his shirt. “What is it with you and shirts?” He mumbles as he looks back up at me.
Swan laughs and shakes his head as he turns back to the house. “I’m going home.”
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” Abbot says and waves his hand toward the back door, gesturing for me to go first.
As we step across the threshold into the house, the air conditioning cools my body, and my nipples pucker under my little bikini triangle from the cold. Even under the towel, I have goose bumps all over me. The bitch in me decides to have a little fun. He deserves it for avoiding me for two days.
“The first-aid kit is in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. I’ll get it.” He says and walks past me. His voice sounds strained.
Hopping up on the counter next to the sink, with the towel open and barely hanging on my shoulders, I rock on my butt to get comfortable, letting my legs stay open a bit. When he turns around, his eyes rake over my body, pausing on my nipples and my belly button piercing, and then stops on my knee.
He steps up to the counter next to me, keeping space between him and my leg, his head just inches away from mine, and opens the box. I watch his face as he sorts through things, setting little packages on the surface next to me.
His beard and mustache are cut perfectly around his lips, and his brown eyes are laser-focused on the task at hand. Almost like he is avoiding looking at me.
His khaki-colored pants are hugging his hips and ass, and the material of his shirt I just ruined is stretched across his shoulders. At this angle, I can see the thin cloud of dark hair across his chest.