Distraction
Morgan
Irons was a nice guy, handsome too. I wasn’t sure what Delta Force put in their water, but the guys were so unbelievably hot, I’d easily say there was something supernatural happening. I didn’t even think Hollywood had that many hot guys in one place.
After Creed left, I broke down and cried when I realized I hadn’t done enough for Callie. I had moments where I laughed and that didn’t seem fair to her. I was able to set my grief aside and it made me feel guilty. I called Jason in California and asked him to send me all my photo albums and gave him my parents address. I wanted to make a collage of memories on a white board for Callie's services.
I was still crying when I started baking. I figured there wasn’t a bigger thank you for the guys than making them a pie. Once I was five pies in, I realized I was obsessing, but shrugged it off and baked some cookies. I loved baking, it was a good distraction, and I hadn’t had the time to do it in years. Something about it was soothing and I imagined baking with Addie in the future. Then I cried again, uncontrolled as I baked. I wondered if I would ever run out of tears. It was like every memory I had with Callie played out in my mind. She was so much more than a friend, she was my sister.
Thankfully, when we went to the commissary I bought a small roast, carrots, potatoes, and onions. It was in the oven and I already mashed the potatoes and had them staying warm in a crock pot when Creed walked in the door.
“It smells amazing in here.” He said as he walked in, and I was in the cupboard getting the corn starch to make the gravy he wanted.
“Thanks, I did a lot of baking today. I thought maybe your friends would like pie and cookies as a thank you for helping me. I’m not sure what kind of diet operatives are on, but I thought there’s nothing wrong with a little guilty pleasure.” I turned to walk out of the pantry and hit a hard chest.
When I looked up and my eyes met his, I froze in place. He didn’t move but stood there like he was just as frozen as me. I wanted and needed to be close to him, but instead after a few long moments he stepped aside. I shut my eyes in disappointment for a short moment.
“They would love that, actually.” He said.
I set the corn starch on the counter and nervously tried to think of every distraction possible. There was something about being that close to Creed. It felt warm, safe, and most importantly, it felt right. Nothing like it felt anything like being near anyone else. His scent alone was comforting.
“Good, could you take them to work with you?” I asked.
“I could, but most likely they’ll all stop in eventually. They like to hang out downstairs when they don’t feel like being at the community center.” He walked over and stood behind me, leaning against the kitchen island. I busied myself by checking on the roast in the oven, even though it had a timer set. “Unless you feel like getting out of the house after dinner. There’s a poker tournament to keep the guys busy while the female residents enjoy ladies night at the bar. The kids are having a sleepover in the theater, so it gives couples a chance to socialize.”
I turned and looked at him, not sure I was ready to socialize, but at the same time it would be better than sitting around the house doing nothing but crying. “Are you sure they’d want me there? I know they’re all close and I’m just a stranger.”
He chuckled. “They’re all talking about finally meeting you. I don’t think you’ve got a problem there.”
“You really think so?” I was hesitant.
“I know so, we can head out after dinner. Whatever you’re making smells amazing.”
I knew he really just wanted me to feel at home in the community. “Okay, sure. Dinner will be ready soon then we can head out.”
He was looking at the cookies here and there. “Here, taste a cookie.” I offered them to him.
“Thanks.” He took one and I watched as he took a bite. His eyes shut for a moment then opened them and smiled as he chewed. “Damn these are good.”
“Thanks, they’re my grandmother’s snickerdoodle recipe. Have as many as you want and when they’re cool I’ll box them up and place them on your snack shelf.”
He tilted his head. “My snack shelf?”
I walked to the enormous pantry. “Yeah, I figured I’d make it easy for you in case you like to enjoy a midnight snack.” I opened the pantry door, and he stood behind me. Close enough for me to feel that safe and warm feeling. I shut my eyes for just a moment then turned to explain. “My mom says I have obsessive compulsive disorder. I like things to have their place, so I organized the pantry. I made a snack shelf here for you. I wasn’t sure if you enjoyed a lot of sweets, so when we were at the commissary I bought a variety. There’s almonds, cashews, granola for the yogurt in the fridge, raisins, chips, and some extra beer that can be transferred to the fridge when you run out of what I chilled for you. This shelf up here is cereal and breakfast foods, and that one is for Italian recipes, and this one is for hearty meals. I’ll put the cookies on your snack shelf.”
He stared at me like I had two heads which made me nervous.
“Its shameful to say, but I was never home enough to organize my own kitchen. I also never had time to bake or cook. It was kind of nice to do some domestic stuff today. It occupied my mind, and I guess it was nice.” I blushed because of how he was looking at me.
“You’re…” He paused and lifted his hand. “Not what I expected.” He reached up and pushed some hair behind my ear. That smallest touch made my heart race. “Its kind of adorable.” He let his hand fall.
“What did you expect?” I was still blushing.
He shook his head. “Definitely not the girl next door, that’s for sure. Do you think we would be ready to go by around six thirty? It always starts early because of the kids.”
I nodded. “Umm… yeah, I can go get ready now and when I’m done it’ll be time to serve dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He said.
When I went upstairs and to my dressing room, I realized it had been probably since college when I was nervous to choose an outfit. Whenever I had social events after college there was always a stylist to choose my attire. It had been a long time since I really wanted to impress someone…I mean people. It wasn’t Hollywood, and it wasn’t Cold Springs. What did the wives wear? Ugh! I looked through my clothes in the dressing room, then went to the bedroom and looked at the clothes hanging in that closet. I hadn’t been to a bar since college, so what did a normal grown woman wear to a bar?
I figured I couldn’t go wrong with black, so I chose a pair of black foe leather shorts, a black body suit with sheer sleeves, a gold star belt that matched a pair of earrings I had, and a pair of black strappy heels completed the look. My best guess was the bar was classier than anything in Cold Springs or Clarity, but not as classy as some bars in Hollywood.
After curling my hair, I put it up in a high ponytail, then put on my makeup. I went with a smoky eye, and nude lipstick. It was the most makeup I wore since arriving back home.
As I looked in the mirror a memory came to me. Callie and I were seventeen and we were getting ready for the Snowball dance.
“I’m not sure about this, Morgan. I’ve never dressed up this much for Shane.” Callie sat in a robe with her hair in curlers while I did her makeup.
“Don’t worry, my makeup artist taught me this technique. You’re going to look amazing and maybe you’ll catch the eye of one of Tristan’s friends. God knows they’re better than Shane.” I quickly realized I overstepped, then paused what I was doing and made her look at me. “I’m sorry, I know I promised not to complain about him anymore, but seriously, you could do so much better.”
“Please just stop, Morgan. Shane gets me, he comes from my world, and he is protective of me. Just because he is poor doesn’t mean he isn’t just as great as Tristan.”
“Shut your eyes.” I ordered then went back to using the eye shadow. “Tristan isn’t rich, and it doesn’t matter that Shane is poor. What matters is that he hits you. Tristan would never hurt me, and you deserve a guy that would never hurt you. You need to realize your value, Callie. You’re smart, funny, and absolutely gorgeous. Shane is always going to hold you back. Plus, you don’t need him. You know I will always take care of you.” I blew on a brush then began blending her eye shadow.
“Its not your job to take care of me, Morgan. I love Shane and nothing you say can change that fact. He promised to move with me when I go to college, and he is going to open his own shop. You know he’s really good at fixing cars.”
I stepped back to look over my work, and when I was satisfied with it I reached for the mascara. “A guy like him will ruin your life, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Plus, it totally sucks that we can’t even go to the Snowball together. That shouldn’t happen, Callie. We should be able to get ready together and have our dates show up together to pick us up. Tristan and his friends hate Shane because he’s a loser that just gets high all the time. I think you should give Tim or Brett a chance. They both think you’re as hot as hell.”
“You don’t get to plan my life for me, Morgan, so just stop.” She was mad at me.
“Fine, I’ll stop just so you won’t be mad. Just at least promise you’ll stick close and dance with me and the girls. You know Deanna and Bethany will be there and act like total bitches.”
I shook myself out of that memory and finished my makeup. When I went back downstairs the roast was done, so I pulled it out and started making the gravy. I was slicing the roast beef when I noticed Creed leaning against the wall. He must have walked in, and I didn’t notice him. “I hope you’re hungry.”
He didn’t answer so I turned and looked at him. “Did you eat anything today?”
He was looking at my legs as he bit his bottom lip, but his eyes darted up to mine. “I ordered breakfast from the mess hall but skipped lunch, so yeah, I’m hungry. Thanks for making dinner.”
I gave him my best smile. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring it over. Is red wine okay or would you like sweet tea, or maybe a beer?” I asked nervously.
“You made sweet tea?” He asked.
“Well, sun tea and I already added sugar and lemons. I thought maybe you’d enjoy something like that, maybe I presumed, but umm.”
He stepped closer. “Hey, you’re not here to serve me. I love tea, but you don’t have to do all these nice things.”
I noticed I was biting my bottom lip again as I looked up at him. “You won’t take money and…well I appreciate all you’ve done. The other guys too…I mean, I guess I hope you’re okay with me being here. We didn’t exactly start off on the right foot. I understand that and I’m sorry if I remind you of her…but…I’m rambling, aren’t I?” I was becoming nervous because he leaned against the counter while resting both hands on each side of me. My heart sped up as he leaned in and whispered in my ear.
“Its obvious you’re nothing like my mother, I’m sorry I ever made that presumption. Just relax and enjoy the freedoms staying here can give you.” He was reaching behind me as my breath picked up, but instead of letting me feel those lips, he tore off a piece of roast and popped it in his mouth. “You’re my guest, not my cook or my housekeeper.” He pushed off the counter and went to the fridge. “I’ll get the drinks. Do you want wine, beer, or tea?” He asked.
I tried to compose myself after he left me wet and wanting more. To at least be touched or something more. I was in trouble because Creed was becoming far more than a curiosity, I wanted him and that wasn’t good. “I guess I’ll start early and have a glass of wine, thank you.”
He poured our drinks, wine for me and tea for him, as I made our plates and took them to the table. He set our drinks down and took a seat next to me. “This looks and smells amazing, Morgan. I don’t know the last time I had a home cooked meal like this, maybe never.”
I tilted my head. “What did you eat growing up then?” I asked.
He dipped his roast beef in the mashed potatoes and gravy then took a bite. His eyes closed and he savored it before he looked at me. “Damn, this is good. You’re a great cook.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
“We always had a full staff that included a chef. He made a lot of ethnic foods, mostly whatever language I was learning at the time. If I had a French teacher he made French foods, when I took Chinese he made Chinese foods. Never really anything down home. I went to private school so most of my friends were raised the same.”
“I’m sure learning all those languages were helpful in your career. How many do you know?” I asked.
He chuckled. “They say you lose what you don’t use. I can remember a little Spanish and French and could get by if needed. The rest was lost along the way, I guess.” He took a drink of his tea. “Wow, that’s good too.”
“Did you have a nanny and have a pampered childhood?” I couldn’t help being curious.
He nodded. “Yes, didn’t you? You were in Hollywood starting at a young age.”
I shook my head. “No, my parents wanted me to have a childhood that was as normal as possible. My mom and dad banked every dime I made, and I had no access to it. Mom always stayed with me when we were shooting in the summers. Jake’s parents also only made him available in the summer and during breaks. We were both given two weeks of our summer breaks to be normal kids. We flew home every single weekend, me to Indiana and Jake to Tennessee. We shot the soap opera in Chicago, so my childhood wasn’t spent in Hollywood. During the school year when I was a little older, I worked at the Arby’s in Clarity and bought my first car with what I earned there, so I guess you could say I had a pretty normal childhood. I was even in 4H, and my parents would always make sure I was scheduled off from shooting the week of the 4H fair.”
He laughed a little. “You worked at Arby's? The fast food restaurant?”
I nodded as I chewed my food then took a sip of my wine. “Yeah, until the show became popular, and the manager had to let me go. People were coming into the restaurant taking photos and asking for autographs. My parents wanted me to have a normal childhood and a regular job most teenagers had was a part of it. What about you? You never had a job as a kid?”
He set his tea down after taking a drink. “I did, but only for a few weeks in the summer working for my dad. We had a summer home in St. Michael’s. Dad took his work with him and we spent the entire summers out there. We made the best memories, and I made quite a few friends whose parents worked there in the summers.”
“Do you still own it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, the only home I own now is this one. I don’t really vacation unless I decide to take off on my bike for a few days.