Chapter 9
With her earbuds in, listening to her favorite music, Willow Raintree laid out twenty dirty, filthy hand towels in the driveway and grabbed the hose to hose them down.
She needed to get the dried, caked on gray and red clay off them before she could throw them in the washer.
Intent on her task, she moved her head to the music and reflected on the last couple of months.
She’d been able to fill all her orders and stock up on inventory.
With the purchase of Magnolia’s kilns, she could fire more than she could in the past. Happy, she did a little dance to the music and grinned.
She was just as filthy as the towels, but she knew she was almost done.
Once they were rinsed, she only had to wring them out and take them upstairs and throw them in the washer.
Then climb into the shower herself. It was late Saturday afternoon, and the only thing on her agenda was a hot shower, and a good book.
Later she’d call for takeout. She hadn’t decided yet if she wanted pizza or Chinese.
She figured that she’d let her fingers to the walking when she was ready to order and would get her usual from which ever place her fingers dialed.
As she moved the hose back and forth over the towels from top to bottom, she watched as the gray/red sludge slowly ran down the driveway.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow, and instead of panicking, she waited until the shadow grew more significant.
Then at the last possible moment, she whipped around, aiming the ice-cold spray from the hose directly at the intruder.
“Who are you, and what are you doing on private property?” she demanded as she took the earbuds out and saw that her trick had worked.
She’d hit the man directly in the chest, he stumbled back and fell on his ass straight in the line of the gray/red sludge that had run out of the towels.
She frowned when he started muttering under his breath, when he wiped his face, Willow laughed her ass off at the sludge he streaked across it.
“Turn that off!” Came the demand.
“Why?”
“Because I need to talk to you.” Willow didn’t turn it off, but she directed it back onto the towel beside him.
“I don’t know you, why do you need to talk to me?”
“I’m looking for Wanda Perkins. My investigation has led me to this address.
” Christopher looked up and sucked in his breath as a beautiful blonde with glowing blue eyes stared back at him.
He looked her up and down and liked what he saw.
He enjoyed it so much that he hoped like hell she didn’t notice his instant erection, despite the blast of ice water she’d already covered him with.
Willow stared at the man in shock. Ever since she settled in Arizona, she’d gone by the name Willow Raintree.
All of her designs and everything made was by that artist. She hadn’t gone by Wanda since she arrived.
Not even her neighbors knew her as Wanda.
It wasn’t that she was hiding from anything, it was just that since she ‘found’ herself, she’d been freer than she had been in years.
It seemed that when she was home, everything had been planned from minute to minute, for years, if you added them up, a total of eight years had been spent in hospitals.
Living a sterile life on the whim of doctors and nurses.
She was tired of it, that was why she’d gone to her family years ago and told them of her plans.
So far, they had been good at not pressuring her for her address. She loved that about her family.
“Who are you? And why are you here?” She watched as the man stood, slipped in the sludge and swore as he fell again. Once he regained his footing, he stepped out of the water and onto the side. She wouldn’t say it was grass because she was in Arizona and it had already started to turn brown.
“My name is Christopher Evans, and I have personal business with Miss Wanda Perkins. I know that’s you because I saw a picture of you that your brother Douglas showed me.”
Christopher watched the woman carefully, and the only indication she gave was a slight frown.
She tossed the hose to the side and started picking up the towels and wringing them out one by one.
He winced when the hose wasn’t immediately put away.
He winced again when he saw how filthy she was, her legs from the knees down were soaking wet, but also caked with red and gray clay.
She had the same mud on her arms and face, and her hair was twisted on top of her head, and as he looked closely, that too had clumps of the mud.
“You got dry clothes with you?” Willow asked as she studied the man. She began rolling up the hose and waited for his answer.
“I do.”
“Why don’t you grab them, I’ll offer you a shower then you can tell me what’s on your mind before you get out of here. You have two minutes to get your stuff then the offer’s off the table.”
Christopher didn’t say anything, he turned on his heel and slipped and slid his way to his car and was back in those two minutes.
Without saying a word, he followed her into the building and frowned as he looked around.
But she didn’t give him much of a chance to see anything.
On the other side of the room, she led him through a door, up a set of stairs and through another door and directly into a state-of-the-art kitchen, where she removed her shoes.
She went to another door and threw the towels she’d carried up, her socks and right before his eyes, she began peeling her jeans down her ample hips.
But she grabbed a large towel and wrapped it around herself.
By the time she was done, he knew for a fact she was naked beneath that towel. She turned to him and smirked.
“Might as well toss your stuff in too. There are bath towels on the shelf above the washer. Down the hall are six bedrooms to choose from, each has their own bath. I’ll meet you back in the kitchen in thirty minutes.
Because I don’t know about you, but I’m filthy and in need of a shower.
” With that, she turned on her heel and left him standing there gawking after her.
As soon as she entered her bedroom, she quickly locked the door, wedged a chair beneath the door handle and hurried to her bathroom, taking her cell phone with her. She closed the door and quickly dialed.
“Gypsy, this is Willow.”
“Oh, hey, Willow. What’s up?”
“I need to use your husband.”
The woman on the other end of the line laughed. “Now didn’t I show you that website to go to so you could purchase your own personal ‘man’?”
“Not that way.” Willow laughed. “No, I don’t know if you saw what happened downstairs, but some guy showed up saying he was looking for Wanda.
I’ve never seen this man before in my life.
And stupid me, I literally hosed him down, he fell in the sludge from the towels.
As we speak, he’s taking a shower in one of the spare bedrooms.”
“Where are you?” Gypsy was suddenly serious.
“Locked in my bathroom. I told him we’d meet back in the kitchen in thirty minutes.”
“Stall as long as you can. I’ll send Mick and some of the guys over in forty-five. Make sure the connecting door is unlocked. Trust me, we have your back.”
“Thanks, Gypsy. I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. Now hurry with your shower so you won’t be vulnerable if he tries something. You don’t know who this guy is?”
“No clue, he said his name, but I didn’t catch it. Oh, and the kitchen is unlocked.”
“Okay. See you soon.” Gypsy hung up the phone and Willow quickly showered.
Thinking she could get in and out, but because of all the clay, ended up having to wash her hair three times.
By the time she finished, dressed and towel dried her hair, precisely thirty minutes had passed.
Taking a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t delay any longer, she left her room and unlocked the connecting door between her and the business next door, then headed to the kitchen.
She saw the man sitting at the table. She studied him as she entered and went to the refrigerator.
He really was a good-looking man with pale blue eyes, light brown hair that just kissed the collar of his shirt.
And he was built, broad shoulders, narrow waist. She wondered if his physique was natural, or if he had to work at it to keep in that good of shape.
“Can I offer you some lemon water?” she asked as she withdrew a pitcher full of ice, and water with lemons floating.
“Sure.”
She poured two glasses and handed him one. She sipped hers and watched as he took a big gulp of his and practically spat it across the kitchen.
“What the hell type of shit lemonade is this?” He jumped to his feet and went to the sink and grabbed a rag to wipe up his mess.
“I said it was lemon water, I didn’t say it was lemonade. Now, who are you and what are you doing here?”
“I told you, I’m looking for Wanda Perkins and don’t lie to me, I know that’s you.”
“That’s my legal name, but I go by Willow Raintree now. It’s my artist’s name.”
“What the hell kind of cockymime name is Willow Raintree? Listen, I don’t have time for any bullshit. We need to talk.” Without realizing it, he’d backed her into the corner of the counter and loomed over her.
“I suggest you back off right now, or you’ll regret it.”
He snorted and reached for her chin and gently lifted it to stare into her eyes. “You’re such a little bit of fluff, I’m not scared of you. Bring it. But I’m not leaving here until we talk.”
“I suggest you get your hands off the lady,” came a firm voice from behind them and Christopher wheeled around and stared in shock at the six huge, buff, tattooed men standing in the kitchen along with another slip of a woman. One of the men broke off and came over to Willow.
“Willow, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in.
I was in the office working. You didn’t tell me we had a guest.” Mick, with his back to Christopher, winked at her and turned to face Christopher, but put his arm around Willow’s waist and brought her to him and kissed the side of her head. “Care to introduce us?”
“This man came onto my, our property, while I was rinsing the towels. He scared me, and I blasted him with the hose, because he was covered in sludge, I offered him a shower. He says he’s looking for Wanda Perkins. But I don’t know this man.”
“I suggest you state your business then.” Mick stood to his full six foot three and Willow saw that the man had him by at least two inches.
“It’s private between Wanda and me. None of your business.”
“Well, we’re making it our business,” said one of the men behind him. Christopher turned and saw the five men in a semi-circle behind him.
“Sorry, it’s personal, and you guys don’t scare me. Give me thirty minutes alone with Wanda, and I’ll be out of here for good. Now if you’ll excuse us?” He quirked a brow as if indicating he could intimidate the burly bikers who surrounded him.
“No,” Willow said. “You come onto private property, scared me, I offer you a shower then you diss my lemon water, you call my name cockymime, and you want me to be alone with you. Forget it, whoever you are. If you have something to say to me, you can say it in front of all of us.”
“No, this is personal.”
“As if.” Willow snorted. “I don’t know you, so how can we have anything personal between us?”
“I think it’s time you leave.” Bill and Tom each took the man by an upper arm and began to escort him to the door. “And I suggest you don’t come back.”
“My name is Christopher Evans,” he said directly to Willow, and he saw no recognition in her expression. Suddenly he was shoved toward the door, and he reached into his inside jacket pocket and froze when he saw the men grab for their sidearms. He held up his hands.
“I’m only going for a piece of paper.” He pulled it and slapped it on the table, he glared at Willow. “I suggest you get a lawyer if you want to play hardball.”
“What for?” the other woman asked as she walked up to Willow’s other side.
He was being escorted to the door, and he reached down to grab his soggy shoes, and with one foot out the door, he said over his shoulder, “Because I’m her husband and I want a divorce.
” Then he was shoved out the door and down the stairs with the door slamming behind him.
He was escorted to his car, and the men ‘helped’ him in and stood there until he left.
He noticed one man had taken a picture of his license plate.
“Fine,” he mumbled to himself, “If you want to play it like this, game on.” Then he left and headed back to his hotel room.
He entered the hotel, and the concierge came up and asked if he was okay.
“No, could you see if you can get these cleaned.” He held out his shoes and stalked away.
Once in his room, he paced back and forth, he pulled his lists from his pocket and as he studied them, he couldn’t understand what went wrong.
It was a perfect plan, no, this setback was all Wanda’s, or whatever she called herself, fault.
After several hours of pacing and making several lists, he finally ordered room service and spent several more hours making more lists.
The only thing he was grateful for was the fact that he’d left his business card attached to the marriage license and hoped she would contact him.
But what surprised him was that when he was finally calm enough to be able to fall asleep, visions of the two of them in bed together plagued his dreams.