by Lexy Timms
“Let’s go sit down,” he said. She felt his breath on the top of her head. “It’s getting cold in here.”
Again with the double meaning! Sure it was just her over-thinking in her nervousness, she fought the urge to roll her eyes and went to the next room. Cayden’s kitchen was a pretty normal one compared to most other guys she had known before, with the exception of an impressive spice rack and a few containers of various protein powders. His living room had enough furniture to host a small crowd, but it was arranged in an uneven way that told her it was all shoved against the walls during his weekend parties to make extra mingling room.
“So how many people can you fit in here?”
Cayden stopped for a moment. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask about my wild parties.”
“Should I?”
He shrugged, taking a long swig of water, and poked the fire. “I’ve fit about forty people here before. Not all in this room.”
She could see that he didn’t mind talking about his weekend events. I want to keep this conversation off anything personal. Here’s my lead. “So in the kitchen, in here, where else?”
The firelight glinted off his eyes. “You want a tour?”
“Yeah, I’d love to see the house of the neighborhood’s finest gardener.” That pun had been intentional. She dared to glance at his biceps. He saw her look, and he gave her a pleased smirk.
“Right this way, madam.” He nodded toward the next room; Lillian set her water down on the coffee table and followed him into a hallway. It was mostly dark, the only light coming from the two rooms on either side. The front door was at one end; at the other end was a tiny staircase that looked like it had been half shrunk.
“What’s up there?” She pointed.
“The attic. It’s got a couple of rooms and a bathroom, actually. So it’s not the typical creepy attic.”
“Can I see it?”
Cayden beckoned towards the stairway, letting her go first. The steps were incredibly steep and much smaller than normal ones. “Why is it like this?” she asked, focusing on not tripping up the stairs and trying to forget that Cayden’s head was essentially right beside her butt. Please, lavender bubble bath, please let your scent still be on my skin.
“Apparently this house is one of the oldest ones in the area. Watch that last step, there’s a little ledge at the top.” He tapped the back of her arm before flipping a switch on the wall. One small, orangey light bulb turned on at the top of the stairs. It wasn’t enough to be well-lit, but just enough to see. “The downstairs and the outside were completely remodeled a couple of decades ago to look more modern, but these little stairs stayed behind.”
The space upstairs was much smaller than Lillian had anticipated. The ceilings were higher and a nice, woody smell drifted around her. “I would make my office up here. This is so nice.”
“Romantic, isn’t it?” His voice was quieter, like he didn’t want to disrupt the antique silence. Their eyes met before he looked at the floor. “These are original hardwood panels. I don’t know anything about flooring, but I like them.”
Lillian bent and touched one of the floorboards. “It looks like cherry wood. They’re gorgeous.”
His face lit up. “You can tell?”
She couldn’t help but feel proud of herself. “Part of what I do is interior design. Some of my clients, when we’re reorganizing, want some of their stuff to be easily reachable...”
“Not necessarily always hidden away,” he added, seeming genuinely interested.
“Exactly.” She pushed against her knees and stood. “It might be adding a storage compartment in the staircase, adding a section to a wall unit, that type of thing. So that requires some design sense.”
Cayden nodded and scratched his chin. “I had no idea so much went into it.” He chuckled. “Not to be rude, but I thought organizing was just putting papers into folders and boxing stuff up.”
“Seems like it would be easier that way, right?”
Again, their gazes met, and neither of them were able to say a word. The hall where they stood was quite narrow, but the high ceilings made it feel much more airy and warm. A soft silence filled the space around them.
Without moving his eyes, Cayden opened his mouth to speak but his voice came out scratchy; he cleared his throat and tried again. “Shall we...see the other room?” He held his arm out briefly before lowering it back to his side.
Lillian nodded. She took a step back to give him enough room to walk past, but he turned his body and edged by her.
That musky scent drove her crazy.
The doorway to the next room was just beside them, but it was pitch-black inside save for the small glow from the one light bulb. Cayden stood just inside the room, half in a shadow. He took up more space than she did, with his brawny frame and height. Taking half a step inside, she found herself face-to-face with his chest again.
Daring to lift her eyes, she saw from the visible side of his face that he was looking back down at her.
Her heart began to thud. “There’s not much light,” she whispered, intensely aware of their bodies barely an inch apart.
“It’s a little crowded,” he breathed. His breath smelled like raspberries and mint.
The faster her heart beat, the more she felt like she was entering an out-of-body experience. Thinking became impossible. Her blood rushed hot through her veins.
All it took was one minuscule movement for his fingers to brush against her wrist. Something inside her flipped around in circles and her vision flickered.
Time slowed. She felt his neck crane down and hers crane up to meet him. And suddenly, their lips were gently pressed together.
After too short a moment, he drew back and she thought it was over, but he put his hand on the back of her head and held her in place. He leaned down again, the tip of his nose on hers, their lips an impossible hair’s length away from touching again. Lillian smelled his skin, his shower gel, his shampoo, and his garden all at once.
Keeping his hand there, he withdrew enough to see her face. In the heat of the moment, she forgot about everything else in the world and realized how badly she wanted to be close to him. Her eyes flickered over every bit of his face.
“We...” he started, but it was no use. Lillian grabbed both sides of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, and pulled him down again ferociously. Their lips crushed together, tongue teasing tongue. Cayden’s strong arms gripped her hips and tugged them against his own as their forms became one shape.
For half a second, her over-analytical mind returned and she froze. What are you doing, what are you doing, what are— But her thoughts were interrupted and pushed far away where they couldn’t come back for a while.
She lost track of what was happening. Cayden scooped her up like he did the night before when he found her on the porch in a drunken heap. That feeling of being weightless, encompassed by this strong creature in the dark, sent her heart soaring to the top of her head. Her fingernails lightly raked his scalp and trickled down his neck, tickling the nape and the tops of his shoulders.
A low groan rumbled from his chest, and he set her down on what felt like a bed. She braced herself with one hand to keep from falling back. The blankets were cold; she tensed.
He eased away, touching his thumb to her cheek. “Are you okay?”
It was too dark to see him, but she could see his outline against the dimly-lit doorway. One ray of moonlight came in the window, but all it revealed were the wooden floorboards. She reached up and grazed his chest with a knuckle. “Yes,” she purred, then added, “I’m not sure how to feel.”
Cayden slid his hand down to her waist. “Stop thinking. Be here for now.” The way his hands could wrap around her body so easily gave her chills, and she trembled. He felt it. “Are you cold?”
Try as she might, she couldn’t make any sounds come out. The only response she managed was tracing his collarbone with her finger, so he made an executive decision. Keeping one hand on her
, he took the top blanket and flung it down to the end of the bed. Lillian let out a little yelp of surprise as he moved her up so her head was on the pillows.
“This will be better,” he murmured, and climbed onto the bed, stretching out so his body was hovering over hers. He reached back and pulled the blanket up to his waist.
“You’re still shivering,” he pointed out, placing his hand tenderly on her arm.
“It’s not the cold,” she confessed.
Cayden let out a single hushed laugh. “Are you okay, other than that?”
She wished he could see her nod. “I think so.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
But she was definitely convinced. In this position, there was no hiding from herself or trying to make excuses. All the effort she’d made to convince herself she didn’t want this got washed down the drain. She wanted his smell, his skin, his raspberry breath, his muscular body that tempted her, so close but so far beneath his thin cotton shirt.
“I’m convinced,” she purred, and wrapped her arms around him to pull his body onto hers.
Chapter 6
The bed was strangely warm. Usually she woke up with a little chill and pulled the covers over her head to hibernate before finally getting up, but not today. This was different. She was actually hot.
She felt a weight beside her. In her drowsiness she tried to figure out how the cats were so heavy, until the memory came back all at once: that weight wasn’t the cats.
It was Cayden.
There’s no way that really happened. She still didn’t open her eyes; instead, she squeezed them shut and recalled every memory she could from last night.
She remembered everything.
Oh my gosh. Oh, holy shit. Turning onto her back, she put her hands over her eyes to block out the faint glow of sunlight. She knew she was at his place, but she hadn’t even seen this room. This room where...
It definitely happened.
Her skin felt like it was burning. The world was beginning to spin from the realization of what happened. She was totally sober the whole time and in full control of her mind. Admitting that last night was her decision lifted a load of stress off her. Taking a few breaths, she opened her eyes into narrow slits and looked beside her.
Cayden was lying on his side, looking at her and smiling peacefully. “Good morning,” he mumbled in a gravelly voice.
The sunlight brightened his dark eyes. Lillian smiled back. His hair stuck out in every possible direction, bringing out an innocent, sleepy charm. “Good morning,” she whispered.
“How’d you sleep?”
“Passed out. You?”
“Same. Hard not to when you’re so relaxed.” He winked.
She was already overheated, but felt her cheeks blush. “What do we do now?” The words slipped out before she could catch them.
“Go downstairs for breakfast, I guess.” He stretched, letting out a satisfied groan. “Funny, I never thought I’d sleep up here. Might have to make this a regular thing.”
“You mean this,” Lillian pointed at them both, “or the sleeping up here part?”
He smirked. “Good question.”
She leaned out of the blanket to reach for her sweater, but realized her bra strap had come undone in the vigorous activities last night. A little embarrassed at being so exposed in front of this guy she hardly knew, she pulled the covers over her chest and sat up to look around. The room was almost entirely made of wood except for one corner of brick, which she assumed to be part of the chimney. One wall was slanted. Sunlight streamed in from a couple of big windows that lacked drapes.
“We really are in an attic,” she said, looking up to the pointed ceiling.
“Yep, we are.” Cayden sat up and popped his neck. “I’m starving.”
“What time is it?”
“You’ve really got to stop asking me so many questions I don’t know the answers to. I’ve got to be at the gym around lunchtime, so it’s not too late.”
“How do you know?”
He tapped his chest. “Biological clock. It’s like an built-in alarm system. Wakes me up every day around 7:30, without fail.”
I wish my body would wake me up like that. There was no way she could fix her bra strap right now, so she quickly pulled her sweater over her head and took the bra off completely.
Cayden noticed. “You don’t need that anyway.”
“You’re certainly confident,” Lillian retorted, watching him stand up and step into his boxers.
He spread his arms. “Wouldn’t you be, if you were me?”
Lillian raised an eyebrow.
“That was pretty vain.” He crossed to the other side of the bed and offered his hand. “Shall we have breakfast now?”
Cautiously she took his hand, but remained sitting half under the covers. Her pants were on the foot of the bed, but she knew she was still wearing her underwear and felt easier. “I think I need to get home, actually. I have work to do and a meeting later.”
“No breakfast?” Cayden made a pouty face.
She hesitated.
“Please?”
“Don’t you put weird protein powders in all your food?” Joking, she stuck out her tongue.
“I don’t eat food. I only eat raw eggs and rare steak.” He rolled his eyes. “You look like you could use a little more protein, anyway. I’ll fix you up.”
“I get plenty of protein, thank you very much. I keep a detailed food journal.”
“Of course you do.” Cayden tugged at her hand. “Come on.”
“I really can’t. I have to take my meds with breakfast.” Dammit, why did I say that?
She expected some kind of sarcastic response, but a look of concern crossed over his face. “I did notice a lot of bottles. Are you okay?”
No, I’m not okay. “I don’t need any sympathy,” she said bluntly.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sorry.” She let go of his hand and brushed her hair behind her ear. “This isn’t something fun to talk about after a night like that. Don’t worry about me.”
The way he stared at her face was clear as a bell: he wasn’t going to forget about those bottles. He cared.
He doesn’t need to care. She really didn’t want to talk about it, and looked away. “It’s okay, for real.”
He stuck his hand closer and insisted, “Come on, let me make you food. Go get what you need from yours and come back over.”
She sighed and reluctantly took his hand again. “I’ll think about it.”
“Because walking downstairs takes ages.” There was that toothy smile that made her smile.
“Long enough for me.” She raised to her knees and swung one leg out onto the floor. Pain drove itself like a nail up her torso and her leg gave out. Trying not to fall from the sudden loss of balance, she groped the air for something and found his arm. He supported her from the waist and tried to sit her straight on the edge of the bed, but she curled into a fetal position.
“What’s happening?”
She buried her eyes in her knees and focused on breathing. “It’ll pass. Give me a second.”
“What’s happening, Lil?” he asked again, louder. She knew he had a hand on her, but the pain in her stomach was too immense to feel it.
Don’t ask questions when someone is curled up in pain, she thought, a bit annoyed, then countered herself. Maybe he’s never been around anyone who’s had this problem. He’s just surprised. She held up one finger, unable to talk, and took more breaths. Over the next minute, the pain mostly subsided and she was able to slowly uncurl.
Cayden stood wide-eyed, looking a little paler than before. “Are you okay? What was that?”
“I’m okay.” Her voice was shaky, but firm. “It’s nothing new.”
“I’ll carry you down.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Can you walk?”
“Yes, I’m okay. I need to get home and take my meds.”
His expressio
n asked the question again: what were those bottles for?
She answered before he could repeat himself. “I’ll explain another time.” Rising to her feet, she inhaled deeply and stepped tenderly toward the door. Cayden shadowed her; she felt his eyes on her back the whole way down the stairs.
Her water was still sitting on the coffee table where she had left it. The fire was now dimly-glowing embers. She drained the whole glass in one go, the flavors of lemon and mint strong enough to wake her up. “Well...” she tried, and wondered what the goodbye discussion should entail. “It was fun.”
“Don’t pull that shit on me.” At first, she thought he was upset, but he lightly placed his hand on her back. “Next time, you stay for breakfast.”
“Who says there will be a next time?” She was surprised, not to mention impressed, that she was able to make light humor while coming out of a pain flare.
“Someone’s playing hard to get,” he replied sarcastically.
“Who, me?” Lillian bent to pull her shoes on. “See you soon, Cayden. Thank you for the water.”
“Be careful,” he directed, opening the door for her.
She waved him off as she crossed his yard and neared her house. Before she went inside, she turned to look back at his porch. He still stood there, watching her, and when he saw she was back in her home territory he closed the door behind him.
A familiar scuffling noise reached her ears and grew louder; the cats bolted to the door, tripping over each other in their race to reach her. Loud meows filled the air and she bent to pet them. “I missed you, babies,” she rubbed their heads. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.” It really was an accident.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket; it was the alarm, set for 8:00. Cayden’s biological clock had been right on time.
I need to ask him how to make that work for me. 8 a.m. and I feel better than I normally do.
That made sense, though; by the time they’d fallen asleep, it was well before midnight. She had only gone over there around dinnertime.
