“Mind if we come in for a moment?”
“Why?” The question escaped before I could stop it, but I was curious to know why indeed the man that rejected me two weeks ago wanted to be in my presence.
“I’ll change the lightbulb and clean the glass for you.” His voice was temperate, but his eyes were extreme, a chasm of fire. It was intimidating, tantalizing, and enough to make me comply with ease. I moved back with the door, allowing him and Hank inside.
He remained quiet as he leaned over to remove the dog’s leash. Hank moved with ease around my living room and stopped in front of the couch, a small whimper releasing from him as he regarded me. “He’s asking permission to get on the couch.”
Even in my shaken up, exhausted state I couldn’t deny a smile as I nodded and gave a gesture to the adorable hound. He jumped and curled easily in a ball as Josh and I awkwardly made our way inside my house.
Josh’s large presence was daunting, and I was clinging onto my reserve, holding on with all I had to stay nonchalant around him. Truth was, I felt safe with him in my house—even if he had made me upset the last time I saw him. I had dealt with crushes before, been rejected by plenty of guys, but this one, this man, was different. I looked up to him and his face held no semblance of emotion. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
My breath hitched, heart sinking as I glanced down to my robe and swallowed. My voice was straining to come out. “Okay. The broom and extra lightbulbs are in the utility room.”
“What about the breaker box? I should turn that off to change the broken bulb.”
“In the garage.”
How awful must I have looked to him? My dresser drawers got the brunt of my frustration as I flung them open and searched for my pajama pants with pints of ice cream printed on them. Why? Because fuck that guy and his perfect body and diet, that’s why. I liked eating real food, and if that was a problem for him, then too fucking tough.
I slipped on a pair of sandals and headed to the door where Josh had already replaced the bulb and was now sweeping up the shards of glass that had dispersed on the concrete. As soon as I moved near him, he spoke firmly, “Stay back.”
“Why?”
“You could get glass on the soles of your sandals. You don’t want to bring it inside.”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms defensively. “You’re so bossy.”
“I’m also right.” His eyes roamed my body, but he made no indication of what he felt. It wasn’t attraction, nor lust, just…indifference. He didn’t want to lead me on, I got it. “Where’s your trash bin?”
He held the dustpan and set the broom against the wall. “Near the garage in front of my car.” I turned on my heels and went inside cursing myself for letting him get to me.
“Marla.” I was tempted to ignore him as he called out my name, and for a moment, I did. When he called my name again, I slowly made my way over as he stood near the entrance. His brow was drawn deep, a frown sketched across him. “Your tires, they’ve been slashed, sweetheart.”
“What?” I rushed past him, trying to push his big body aside as I moved to my pretty Prius. Sure enough every single rim of my tires were touching the driveway. My body slouched, and I tugged tears back from spilling over. “How…why?”
My mind couldn’t process what I was supposed to do next as I heard Josh’s voice behind me. He was on the phone, reporting the incident. Before I knew it, there were two officers in my driveway asking questions. How had this even happened? One minute I was trying to relax with a bubble bath and the next there were police interrogating me. The most I got was that they would start patrolling the area, but vandals were common, and lately a rise in crime had climbed in that part of town.
Josh thanked the officers, then led me inside and sat me down by Hank who snuggled beside me. I would’ve made conversation, offered him something to drink, but I felt dazed. It was too much to take in. I felt like I was drowning in the pressures I was not only making for myself, but the ones that were presenting themselves in my life.
Josh approached with a cup of tea, and I glanced up giving a half-assed thank you as I took a sip. It warmed me in an instant, and I drank slowly as he sat in the loveseat near the couch. “This has whiskey in it.”
He nodded. “You need it, love.”
I wanted to tell him not to call me that, because it only made me want him more. Instead, I wondered why he was being so nice to me.
“You can leave now. It’ll all be cleared up.”
He shook his head, resting his forearms against his knees. “No, I’ll stay here, make sure you’re alright.”
“I’m fine, Josh.” I lifted myself from the couch, moving to the kitchen where I set my cup down. Those English always knew how to make an amazing cup of tea, but I didn’t need his pity right now. “Besides, I doubt these kids will come back to trash the same place again.”
He stood beside me, still keeping his calm, but that voice unwavering. “I don’t think these are kids doing this. I think this was calculated.”
I huffed, not wanting to even acknowledge how ridiculous that seemed. “Sure, okay, I believe you.”
“Don’t mock me. I’m staying tonight.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I’ll take you to work in the morning, help you get your car towed.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I countered, tipping my head up. This whole back and forth with him was aggravating me. I couldn’t tell what his intentions were, and I was getting pissed off. “Why are you here, Josh? Hmm? What is it you want? We aren’t friends, we don’t even like each other.”
He looked confused, almost wounded as his voice quieted. “I want to help.”
He seemed sincere enough, and I remembered Grace’s plea. She wanted me to be nice to him, and I had a feeling it was more than that. He was given the obligation from Evan. He was fulfilling it. I’d let him. “Fine, the guest room is available. I’m going to bed.”
I marched to my room, shut the door, and began to clean up after my sad excuse for a bubble bath. I reached for my phone on my nightstand and saw a million missed calls and texts from Grace. I stood there reading each text, the last one stating Evan had gotten word from Josh what took place.
Grace: I’m glad he’s staying there with you tonight. I’m worried about you.
Me: I’m fine, Grace.
Grace: Don’t take it all on yourself. I’ve been there, girl. We’re here for you.
I swallowed the large lump in my throat that had been stuck there all night. It was so easy to get lost inside of myself, to try to control the things I couldn’t. I was getting fixated, attempting to achieve the heights of success and happiness my parents had, but in that moment, I didn’t know what made me happy. It certainly wasn’t this. Working twelve hour days only to be yelled at by the boss’s son, a man who didn’t know what he was doing, was beyond demeaning. I was running on empty.
Without realizing what happened, I was sobbing, letting the trauma of an almost mugging, the rejection from the gorgeous man I liked from the moment I had laid eyes on him, and the mishaps of work all pour out of me. I hadn’t heard the door open, but my heart jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see soft, compassionate eyes, and in an instant, two large arms swathed around me like a cocoon of warmth. I rested my head into Josh’s chest and let out the pain I had been holding inside.
His hand ran through my hair, his jaw rested on my head as he whispered sweet words, trying to comfort me. The consolation was welcomed and helpful as I calmed, the tears lessening with every touch of his large hands. He guided me to my bed, whispering for me to lay down as he covered me with a blanket. Leaning over, he kissed my forehead, cupped my cheek and gave me a warm smile. “It’ll get better, darling. I’ll be in the guest room, okay?”
My eyes heavy, I let them drop, and I dreamed all night of Josh McKenzie. The beautiful man sleeping in the room next door. The man who was breaking my heart with every gentle word, caring touch, and gentle
manly ways.
“Rise and shine,” I called with a voice that wouldn’t startle the woman who was in deep slumber. Her body was tangled within the sheets, one leg hanging off her bed, pajamas with pints of ice cream were twisted around her.
Hank ambled in after me, approached her bare foot and began licking fuchsia-painted toes that hung off her bed. Instead of waking with elegance, Marla jerked her foot, yelled, and yanked into sitting position. “What the fuck? No, Hank!”
Suppressing a laugh was difficult for me as she tried moving her tousled locks from her face. “Morning,” I beamed. I loved mornings. It meant the beginning to a new day. Anything could happen fresh, the past was behind with new challenges ahead. It was clear to me, however, that this woman was more into sleeping in. She glared at me, then hoisted herself off the side of the bed. Her eyes were splotchy from crying, but she seemed well rested compared to the last time I had seen her.
“Not a morning person?” I asked as she grunted and slogged toward her bathroom. “Coffee’s on. I’m making breakfast.”
She nodded and closed the door behind her. I’d have to remember for the future not to expect spoken answers until she had her coffee. Last night had been something else. When Evan had told me of the possible break-in at her home, a horrible feeling of dread had taken over me. I couldn’t fathom something happening to this woman and me not being there, not making sure I had trained her enough. I would have felt awful making a promise to Grace that I couldn’t keep.
This woman was trying to push me away with all her might, but it was a lost cause. The more she pushed me, the more I was being drawn in. We were like magnets, two polar opposites that were attracted with a force so strong it would take heaven and hell to pry us apart.
My concentration was pulled from my phone when Marla entered the kitchen wearing a sexy tight skirt and silk blouse number that made my mouth go dry and my dick go on full alert. Her cinnamon hair curled down her back in waves I couldn’t wait to pull and tug on while tasting her mouth. But for all the temptation she posed, I held my control to not take things too fast. Not only had I made mistakes with Evelyn before, but I didn’t want to push Marla into anything she wasn’t ready for. Right now she was stressed, and I wanted her to be certain she wanted me as much as I was craving her.
Her skeptical eyes glazed over the omelet I had laid out on a plate for her and to the horrid coffeemaker where it brewed fresh. She served herself a cup and grabbed milk and sugar to garnish the drink while I always took mine black.
“Thank you for all this,” she said quietly, sounding sweet as she sipped on the beverage. When her bourbon eyes met mine, I grinned and saw pure heat and lust run through her expression. She wanted me, and now to just wait on timing. Timing was everything, and it had to be perfect.
I cleared my throat as I pulled my thoughts away from kissing those lips covered in pink gloss. “I called Triple A. They’ll take your car to the tire shop and work on it today.”
“How did you know I have Triple A?” She stopped the fork to her mouth before her first bite into the mushroom and tomato omelet I hoped she would enjoy.
“You have a tag on your keychain,” I tilted my head to her keys on the counter as she relaxed and nodded. “I’ll make sure everything gets taken care of while you’re at work.”
“You don’t have to do all this for me,” she said, her body shifting, tensing, as if she expected something in return for my kindness. It hurt me last night when she had said we didn’t like each other. I liked her more than I was letting her know, or myself admit. “I can do it myself.”
“It really is no problem, Marla.”
She put her fork down and stared at me, swallowing what seemed to be a lump in her throat. “Why? Tell me why, Josh.”
I stared at my hands, locked around my coffee cup. “Because I like you.” My eyes met hers, they widened as she inhaled and held that breath tight. “I like you a lot. And I want to know you better…if you’ll let me.”
The air was thick, like a fog had rolled in, and the tension was tight and growing with every single breath. She wasn’t sure what to do, as if she had lost her will to fight against me. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Her moxie budged, and her ability to deny me was getting more difficult for her to maintain. She kept trying to combat it, whatever this was between us, but it wasn’t working. It would only be a matter of time until we would happen. Our eyes stayed glued together as she figured out what to say.
A growl from Hank’s mouth pulled her away from our trance. Her mouth dropped, her expression pure shock as she rushed over to where Hank sat on the couch. I turned to watch the action.
“Hank! No!” Reaching out, her hand ripped away one of her shoes that had been feasted on by the boxer that had just ruined our moment. “These were my favorite!”
“Hank,” I scolded. “Don’t eat Marla’s shoes.” I moved toward him and snapped, motioning for him to jump from the couch. “I should take him outside. He needs a walk.”
“A walk?” she cried. “Is that all you have to say? He needs discipline.” She held the high heel out that was mangled and now falling apart. I winced, knowing I owed her. “Your mongrel ate my favorite pair of heels.”
“Just buy another pair.” The moment the words exited my mouth I knew I had said the wrong thing.
“Buy another pair? These shoes are Manolo Blahniks from two seasons ago. They don’t make these anymore.”
“Just wear another one of the ten pair you have lying around.”
“WHAT?!”
She was beyond fuming. I thought her face was about to match her hair, but it didn’t stop me from putting my own foot in my mouth. “Maybe if you’d put your shoes in the closet, where they belong, this problem wouldn’t happen.”
“Excuse me?” Oh, fuck. I was in it now. I wouldn’t be surprised if she killed me while I slept. “This is my house. I can leave my shoes wherever the hell I damn well please. And I’m not accustomed to having a dog around eating my things!”
I lifted my hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, love, but they’re just shoes.”
Instead of pacifying her, it only provoked, making her steam with anger. Why hadn’t I just said sorry and gotten out of it? Because I could be a stubborn bastard. She hadn’t tried my omelet and my confession of my feelings had gone ignored. “You aren’t making this better, McKenzie. Just leave so I can go to work.”
I crossed my arms defiantly, leaning back on the counter, knowing she needed me. “How are you going to get there? I’m taking you to work, remember?”
“I’ll call a cab.”
Protectiveness poured over me, the idea creeping me out. “Fuck that, Red. You aren’t getting in a car with someone you don’t know.”
“You aren’t the boss of me,” she claimed, grabbing a handful of shoes and moving them to the hall closet. For loving those things so much, she certainly was throwing them on the floor like they didn’t matter.
“Marla, calm down. I’m just trying to help you.”
“I don’t need your help. I can handle this myself. Go.” She waved her hand at me as she gathered her purse and searched for her phone, her voice ringing through the house.
“What the hell’s wrong with you? Normal people accept help,” I barked out, Hank sidling beside me in concern.
“I don’t know!” Marla stormed out of the house, leaving the door open. I waited a moment before reaching for her keys on the countertop and headed outside. She stood with her arms crossed in front of my Jeep as I fiddled with the keychain. “Hurry up,” she mumbled and turned to the passenger side door.
I chuckled under my breath and called for Hank, locked up, then headed to the vehicle, opening the door for the feisty female who muttered something under her breath. Hank got in the backseat and she glared at him. “You’re in the dog house, Hank.”
“He just wants to be near you, love.” And he wasn’t the only one.
Contradictions of all kinds had my mind reeling in diffe
rent directions. I felt at any moment my head was about to hit a full three-sixty. From the pressures mounting at work, to the mayhem with my car, then Hank chewing on my Mary Jane Manolo pumps, I should’ve been more pissed off. Instead, the anger only lasted a short time, and the rest of the day I had spent twirling Josh and his admission of liking me over in my brain.
I couldn’t remember the last time a man had made me an honest declaration that way. It wasn’t common, nor was it unwelcomed, but it was inconvenient. I wanted to keep my distance from men like him, but I couldn’t ensue when he was proving my judgements wrong. Things weren’t what they seemed, and neither was he. I was daydreaming about his tattooed arms holding me instead of focusing on the Anderson meeting ahead, and only when Holden walked in was I pulled back to reality.
“What’s up with you, sunshine?” Holden smiled that megawatt grin and handed me a cup of coffee. I recalled Josh making me coffee and an omelet earlier in the day and felt remorseful I hadn’t tried any of it. If I could go back I would’ve said thank you, eaten the damn food, and kissed the hell out of the burly man’s lips. Instead I focused on the dog and a pair of shoes. My appetite had been suppressed the last few weeks, and it was all beginning to take its toll on me.
“Long night.” I shook my head and sipped the lukewarm beverage. “My tires got slashed from some vandals.”
“Oh, that sucks balls,” Holden said, taking a seat across from my desk and snatching some papers from my desk. “Did they get caught?”
“No,” I sighed and searched for an email I had sent Dave Anderson a week ago. “The police came, but they weren’t much help.”
“You reported it?”
I glanced up from my computer to catch his eyes fixated on me. “Yeah.”
“You’re okay though?”
I shrugged, “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Holden gave a small chuckle. “I don’t know how you do it all sometimes, Marla. You seem to take on way too much.”
“I put in as much as everyone else does…”
A Promise Made (Promise #2) Page 9
