Chapter 10
ABIGAIL
I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning.
Elias agreed to sleep above the covers with a blanket while I slept between the sheets. This arrangement would have been fine had he kept his shirt on. Beyond his magnificent, bulging shoulders and pecs, he had that intricate tattoo that baffled me. I felt like a deprived child turning off the lights while wanting to trace every line of his artwork. Elias fell into a deep slumber immediately, snoring lightly at my back. As for me, shutting down my hamster-wheel-of-a-brain took considerably more time. I”d developed a ritual that ensured I”d fall asleep within ten minutes; unfortunately, the added variable of Elias made it impossible.
I flipped and flopped for the first hour. The second hour was packed with identifying noises that crept from the basement to the skittering of God-knows-what in the walls and attic. Committed to a successful day tomorrow, I wrote down my concerns and forced myself to only think about breathing deeply and puppies. Who didn”t feel happy thinking about puppies?
Crowing of a chicken jarred me awake a few hours later, and I planned to find that sucker and cook him for dinner. Four hours of sleep wasn”t going to cut it today. I needed at least six to be functional. Determined to get those last few hours, I pulled my pillow over my head and started my ritual again. Yes. I could feel the shroud of sleep hovering closely when a tree fell on my body, pinning me to the bed. Please, kill me now.
”Settle, princess.” The gruff voice said, heaving me up against his hot body. My body froze, and several thoughts buzzed through my cloudy brain, none giving me a reasonable answer. Instead, I focused on Elias”s breathing, trying to match mine to his. His hold on me sent tingles down to my toes, and I felt like purring when he tucked me under his chin. My brain drifted in and out of consciousness while my body seemed to float above me. I smelled the smooth skin behind his elbow and marveled how, even after a day of travel and sleep, he still smelled of fresh laundry. Exploring him more, I pressed my lips to his bicep, trying not to wake him but sneak a taste of his essence. To my surprise, he pulled my hips closer, giving me a clearer picture of what I had awakened.
”I said to settle down, not rile me up.” He rubbed his face alongside mine, igniting my core. ”I”m moments away from making you truly exhausted. Just keep sampling me. I dare you.” His throaty threat put every cell in my body into overdrive.
Poking the bear was never a good idea. I”ve gotten into plenty of trouble over the years doing just that. However, this scenario had plenty of opportunity for mutual benefits if I was willing to pay the price.
”You should stop smelling so good. It”s your fault I can”t go back to sleep.” I breathed in his beard, noting the shampoo I had used at his house.
That did it. He flipped me over to my back without warning and pulled on my bottom lip. ”You”ve been warned.” He growled.
He pulled back the blanket and unwrapped the sheets around me. I noticed his shirt was back on from when we first got into bed, but now, one hand reached behind his head to pull off his shirt while the other sat low on my chest. His eyes never left mine, and I knew at that moment unspeakable things were about to turn my life inside out.
”I”m taking your shirt off. You”d better say ‘stop,’ or I”m going to ravage you until you pass out.” I heard words, but my eyes were glued to the most perfect chest a woman could ask for. Elias didn”t possess one of those muscle man bodies. He had deliciously sculpted meaty muscles that a woman could sink her hands into.
I must have waited too long because he shoved my shirt over my head and pinned my hands to the mattress. He pressed his flesh to mine, and I saw stars. His chest was covered in an exquisite display of soft, straight hair that reached from nipple to nipple, traveling downward in a straight line to his jeans. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest, absorbing every divot this man had earned. I only wished I had my hands to trace the paths he showcased for me.
Air escaped my throat in short bursts as I struggled to stay conscious. His kiss was scorching, and the noises he made only ratcheted up my desire.
I turned my head to the side, fighting for air. ”Elias. Please. I can”t breathe. I need to touch you.
He yanked his hands back only to cup my small breasts, kneading them delicately. When he plucked each nipple, jolts of electricity ran directly to my apex. I clawed at his back, grasping for traction, when something scurried over my head.
”Fuck!” He hollered as he pulled me up to his chest.
I held him tightly, trying to understand his reaction. ”What was that?”
”God damned mice! That”s what.” He scrambled off the bed, pulling me with him. ”Come on. I don”t care what time it is. It”s time to set those traps.”
He”d get no pushback from me, only from my aching pussy. She was mad, and sad . . . and wanton. Bad kitty!
”There!” I sighed, falling back into a wing-backed chair. ”This house is rigged like the Ninja Warrior Challenge for mice. No mercy!” I raised a fist, pledging to overthrow the mice population of Mystic.
Elias walked toward me, drinking from a water bottle, ”The warrior princess had spoken. Woe be unto vermin everywhere!” He punched the air alongside me. We were two weirdos united in our quest. He”s a lot of fun. Now, if we could return to where we left off, we”d both have more fun.
He read my mind as he looked down at my face. ”Later.”
I stuck out my lower lip, pouting like a petulant child. I”ll own it. I was robbed of pleasure, and I wanted redemption.
Resolute, he replied sternly, ”Don”t give me any lip, even if it”s those lips. We have phone calls to make to a carpenter who will seal this damn house from animals, the cable company, and a water tester guy to make sure there isn”t any lead in your water supply. After that, its cleaning, cleaning, and more cleaning. Come on, cupcake.”
He reached for my hand, expecting me to grab hold, but I wasn”t budging.
”Cupcake?” I sneered. ”I”m a princess, like you said,” and stood alone. Without looking back, I strutted across the living room, the dining room, and into the kitchen to dump several water bottles into a pot to boil.
Moments later, Elias caught up with me, adding dish soap to the water after it cooled down. I was executing our plan from last night without his directions. This was my house, and I was the master. No one believed I could follow through with anything, but not this time. I would prevail. Besides, how hard was it to clean a house?
I heard him clearing his voice, obviously to get my attention. “I’m going to go out on a limb here, and guess you haven’t cleaned any antique surfaces before, right?” He looked down his nose at me. Okay, he always looked down his nose at me because he was a foot taller than me and then some. So frustrating!
I blew a strand of hair off my face while holding that damn bucket. ”No. You know, it”s not rocket science, right?”
He walked across the kitchen and gently tried to take the bucket from my hands, except I wasn”t letting go so easily.
He shook his head. ”No, princess. It”s not rocket science, just science. There is a ton of mold around this house, and wood, especially old wood, is a prime mold-collecting material. Here, put these on, and let me get you a bucket of distilled vinegar.”
My face scrunched up at the possibility of my house being riddled with mold spores, which freaked me out. I did have a touch of asthma, and that kind of environment could be a problem.
”Huh, the things you learn. What else are you holding back, Mr. Offerman?” Two years ago, while watching his sitcom, I watched an interview with that celebrity. It surprised me how many celebrities had marketable talents beyond acting.
He smirked. ”Well, look at you being in the know. Engineers are required to research various materials, including aged wood. I”m not just a pretty face, ‘ya know.” He slapped his knee at that one.
”Ha. Ha. Pretty? Meh. A prima donna for sure.” I giggled, lowering my goggles to my eyes and pulling up the latex gloves he had thrown at me.
He set the empty vinegar bottle on the counter and reached into his pocket for his phone. I didn”t hear it ring, but, before I knew it, he had spun around and snapped a picture of me looking like a wasp movie reject.
”This is a keeper!” He retaliated, fisting the air in triumph. Fine. He may have won that round, but this would be a long day, and there were plenty of opportunities to snap incriminating pictures of him as well. I”m thinking of a butt-crack photo to keep him in line.
Our plan of attack today was to complete the kitchen and then make our calls. Later, we”d wipe down my bedroom and all the bathrooms while we wash some laundry. At least we could sleep safely and soundly and eat comfortably. The best news so far was the water guy could come before noon, and the cable would be turned on tomorrow.
I”d never been a good cleaner. My aunt—whoa, I”d better call my aunt—would stand at my bedroom door, arms crossed, tapping her toe on the hardwood, waiting to find fault in everything. From making my bed to hanging my clothes correctly, nothing I did was to her satisfaction. I suppose that is why she gave up after three years of trying to ”train” me and closed my bedroom door. Fine with me. The only task I accomplished to her satisfaction was cooking, though not so much for cleaning up. I can cook a mean lasagna and a colorful salad. My beef stew is the bomb, and my breakfast casserole is delish. Whenever I did something, I”d get in trouble for, I”d cook a meal to get her off my back. Then, to be sure she saw how repentant I was, I vacuumed the house. Nothing says, ”I”m sorry,” like a freshly vacuumed floor.
I missed cooking. Maybe Elias will take me to the grocery store later so I can cook him a delicious meal in gratitude for his help. I could offer food and my body in exchange for electrical help. That was my tender. I needed a job. He would leave me tomorrow, having made sure I wouldn”t explode or drink lead from the pipes. I had to accept that he went well beyond the call of duty getting me here and staying until I was settled. Those lips and arms and, well, everything about him, I suppose, would have to be fantasy fodder for the time being.
I shook my head clear of him and continued to scour the hardwood floors in the foyer with vinegar solution until my bucket was filled with black sludge. I hauled myself upright, feeling my lower back complaining. Hard labor was not for the dazed and distracted. My kind of people worked hard at slaying dragons in video games or breaking a sweat making pizzas. I took a moment to imagine housemaids cleaning every nook and cranny back when my great-great-grandmother was the mistress of the house. She had to have help. I needed to read more of her diary soon to know how she ran this giant home. Keeping the kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom clean was almost too much for me now.
My daydreaming ended abruptly when I heard knocking at the front door. I pushed my loose hair behind my ears, straightening myself as I approached. This was my first visitor!
”Hell-o?” I said as I looked left to right. There wasn”t anyone there, and yet I distinctly heard a knock. ”Hello!” I called out again, stepping onto the porch.
”Whoa. What”s this?” A chicken sat on my porch—a real one. Bright marigold-colored feathers, a bright neck, and a crown that looked more like a comb puffed up all around it. I”m not up on my chicken anatomy, but this bugger looked healthy to me. The bigger question was why it was on my porch.
”Hey, little dudette, what brings you here?” Don”t judge me talking to a chicken. ”Were you the one knocking on my door?”
It just sat there, looking me over as if I were the scary one. I bent down warily, ready to jump back if needed. I”d never touched a chicken before, so I felt compelled to reach out and take a chance. Oddly, it let me—once. The second time came with a peck.
”Hey, be nice, or I”ll cook you for dinner!” Learning my lesson, I backed up into the doorway and shooed it away. What the hell? Everyone else in the world gets a stray cat or dog. I get a chicken.
I returned to the kitchen, collecting my bucket and rags for water. Elias was standing on a step stool wiping down the fixtures and ceiling. I took my time drinking my beverage, zoning in on his high, tight ass in his soft, worn denim. His back stretched his rock band T-shirt tightly as he balanced his hand above his head. The tattoo sleeve that I hadn”t time to study was breathtaking. Gears, pistons, and clocks adorned his bulging left arm, appearing as though it moved when he bent his elbow. I almost choked when he whistled through his teeth.
”Like what you see?” he growled—bustedagain. I needed to be more clever about how I ogled him.
”Looking for a compliment?” I said flirtatiously.
”Only if deserved, ma”am.” Who”s the flirt now?
“You’re gorgeous.” Shit! I needed a better game.
”So are you.” He winked back.
”Now that your head is full of yourself, I”d like to make you a thank you dinner this evening. You”ve done more than any stranger should for a damsel in distress. Would you take me to the grocery store later?” I toed the vinyl floor, embarrassed I had to keep asking for favors.
He reset the bulbs on the fixtures he was fixing and stepped off the ladder. My heart bubbled thinking about what he”d do next. To my delight, he walked over and kissed me on the top of my head.
”Whatever you need,” he whispered behind my right ear. I may be impulsive, but being brazen hasn”t been part of my DNA until now.
I licked my lips, deciding how to respond. His biceps called me, and I traced the grooves to his elbows. Every molecule in my body wanted to attack him right there and then. I felt paralyzed with what to say or do, so I looked at the crinkles at the corners of his brown eyes and took the coward”s way out.
”That”s a long list, and you have a life to return to.” I studied the clock on his shoulder, wondering what had led him to this design.
I slid between him and the counter and prepared a new wash bucket. I had an upstairs to get to, and standing around making googly eyes didn’t get the job done. I finished my task and turned to see him staring down at me. My core clenched, and my resilience to make a break for it started to fade.
”See you upstairs.” Damn it! That”s not what I meant.
”Uh, I mean to clean. Not the other thing. I, just . . . never mind. Later.” I pointed upward and rolled my eyes, feeling like the biggest idiot to walk the earth. I mumbled self-deprecating words up the back stairs. I”ll have to drop at least a dollar into that stupid cup Elias put on the counter for saying bad things about myself. I moved through the room until I passed an antique dresser with a marble counter and tarnished mirror. I set my bucket down and looked at my face, remembering how similar I was to my grandmother. I pulled my hair from the fallen braid hanging down my back and scooped it up like Agatha in her picture. I wound the topknot like she had and bunched it into my hair band. I gasped at how quickly I went from the present to the past. It warmed my heart that by wearing my hair this way, I found such a complete and satisfying connection that I left it that way while I wiped my bedroom down from ceiling to floor.
Feeling accomplished two hours later, I rested in the empty hot tub. An idea a previous tenant thought would be appropriate for a period home. It was an eyesore. Regardless, I jumped in and began emptying my thoughts and worries. That”s where Elias found me. Half asleep and nearly dead of exhaustion.