by Cathryn Fox
She moans in her sleep and I glance upward, take in the bright blue sky through the overhead skylight. Looks like the storm has passed. But the worst isn’t over. No, now it’s time for the provincial clean up, and that could take hours, days, even. I shouldn’t be so happy about that but it means Holly will be with me longer.
Not wanting to wake Holly, I slip from the bed, and pull on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. The place is cool, so I grab another blanket and lay it over her body, tucking her in. Padding quietly, I make my way downstairs and tend to the fire. I feed it a few logs and once it’s blazing, I shoot a text off to my sisters to check in on them.
They both respond fast, and I debate on telling them about Holly. I can imagine the interrogation. In the end, I decide not to. I go through my contacts, and call my trusted mechanic. He answers on the third ring and after we talk about the storm, and exchange pleasantries, I get down to business.
“A friend of mine ditched her car. It’s going to need a tow into the city.”
“Not a problem,” Jack says.
I give him the location of her vehicle. “Problem is, it could be days before you can reach it. Clean-up will take a while.”
“I’ll get there as soon as the road opens.”
“Go ahead and do whatever repairs are necessary. Bill it to me.”
“You got it, Will,” he says and we end the call.
Now that I have that arranged, I need to get to her vehicle and empty it before her belongings sustain more damage. I don’t much is salvable as it is and I pray the car is where we left it and hasn’t been carried away by the flood. I head to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. As it brews, I grab a notepad and pen, to let Sleeping Beauty know I’m heading out to assess the damage. Then I fill a travel mug with the hot brew, and step outside. The early September air is fresher than it has been for days. I stretch out, and move a few downed trees in the driveway. I climb into my car and catalogue the damage to my place. While the structure is intact, there are numerous broken trees that I can chop up for firewood. I make my way down the hill to the main road. It’s usually bustling with cars, but today, there isn’t a soul to be found. Far off in the distance, I hear an ambulance, and cringe inwardly, hoping no one is too badly hurt.
I slowly drive down the road until I spot Holly’s car in the ditch. Carefully inching along the gravel shoulder, I stop close to it, and jump from my driver’s seat. I give it a once over before I pull damp boxes and laundry baskets full of clothes and makeup and other things such as pillows and blankets from the back seat. I pop her trunk, and take out a suitcase, a lamp, a box with a few dishes and an alarm clock. As I load my Jeep and look over the items, my heart squeezes. This is Holly’s life, all boxed up in the back of my car. What the fuck happened to her in Toronto?
“Hey there,” a voice calls out and I look up to see an elderly gentleman coming my way. I’ve seen him around town a time or two, when I went in for fishing supplies. I wave as he comes my way.
“Some storm,” I say. “How did you make out? Everyone okay?”
“We’re fine.” He waves a hand toward the bloated ocean. “Weathered a few of these over the years. I was just checking in with the neighbors to see if they needed anything.”
“We’re okay,” I say, and he glances at the car.
He scrubs the stubble on his chin, and his fine gray hair catches in the breeze. “You sure about that?”
“This happened last night. A girl who lives just up the road…” Wait, what was the name of it again? Right, Whitman’s Lane. “She lives on Whitman’s Lane and was on her way to visit her parents and her car went off the road.”
His eyes go wide, his alarm evident. “Are you talking about Holly Bennett? Her folks said she was coming home from Toronto.”
Shit, I never got her last name. I slept wither her, yes. Numerous times. But last names never came up. Then again, the last name Bennett does ring a bell for some strange reason. I must have seen it on one of the local house signs. Lots of people display their family name here on the south shore.
“Yes, it’s Holly, but she’s fine and she called her parents. I have someone coming to take care of her car for her.”
“Glad to hear it.” He looks around, takes in all the debris. “Heard we might be stuck here for a few days and it doesn’t look like Holly will be visiting her folks anytime soon. Road is washed out a few miles up.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“You two need anything?”
“We’re pretty stocked, so we’re good. How about you. Do you need anything?”
“Nope.” He turns to go. “Don’t be a stranger now.”
I laugh at that. In a small town where everyone knows everyone, I’m definitely a stranger. I can imagine the speculating. I go back to Holly’s car, grab her phone from the front seat and lock it up. Back in my Jeep, I check the time and wonder if Holly might be up. I run her last name around in my brain again. I’d seen it recently, somewhere. I shake my head. Must just be a local name.
I drive back to the cottage, and off in the distance I see a deer darting through the brush, no doubt lost and frightened after last night’s storm. Perhaps it was the one who’d darted in front of Holly’s car. I turn off the ignition, and let myself back inside, staying quiet in case Holly is still asleep, but what I see stops me dead in my tracks.
I stand there for a moment as Holly sings off-key with the radio blaring, and dances around the kitchen. The delicious scent of cinnamon hits, and I breathe it in. Not wanting to frighten her, but wanting to enjoy the view for a little longer, I step toward her, revel in the way she’s swinging her hips, my shirt swaying around her thighs. She grabs something from the fridge and when she turns and sees me there she screams.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly and rush to her. I pull her into my arms, and hug her quivering body.
“You scared the crap out of me,” she says, and playfully whacks me. “Why didn’t you make a noise or something?”
“Because I was having too much fun watching you.”
She pushes against my body, and I don’t bother to hide my erection. “I guess you were,” she says playfully.
Reaching down, I grab her ass and lift her until she’s sitting on the edge of the island. I press my lips to hers and taste a mixture of minty toothpaste and coffee.
“Mmm,” she moans into my mouth as the oven beeps, indicating it’s up to temperature.
“What are you making?”
“Blueberry scones. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m starving.”
“Then you’d better let me get them into the oven.”
I reluctantly back away and lift her from the counter. “I went to check on your car.”
“Yeah?” She puts the pan into the over, urns to me and grimaces. “Please tell me it’s not so bad.”
“It’s not so bad. I called my mechanic. He’s going to tow it to the city for you and repair it.”
Her eyes go wide. “Will, you didn’t have to do that.”
I hold my hand up to stop her. “It’s fine. Really. He’s a good guy and won’t rip me off.”
“Rip you off? You’re not paying for the tow or the repairs. My car. My responsibility.”
I shake my head at her. Damned if she isn’t a refreshing change from the women I know. “You made scones. That’s payback.”
“Will…” she says, a low angry warning in her voice.
“Fine, fine. We’ll figure something out.”
Her face softens. “Thank you, though. That was really sweet of you.”
I laugh at that. “Sweet is not something I’m ever called. Especially at work.”
She pours two cups of coffee and slides one across the counter to me. “Why do people call you bad things at work?” she asks, and takes a small sip from her mug. “What exactly is it that you do?”
“Office job. Boring.”
She opens her mouth like she wants to press and I’m gratef
ul when she doesn’t. “Want to sit by the fire until breakfast is ready.”
I grab her phone from my back pocket. “Found this. The rest of your belongings are in my Jeep..”
She looks at her phone. “It’s dead.”
“You can use mine. You might want to call your parents again. I was just talking to a neighbor and the road is flooded a few miles up.”
“Damn,” she says but she doesn’t really seem like she’s in a hurry to leave. Which is good, because I’m not in a hurry for her to go either.
I hand her my phone and she punches in her parents’ number. I relax on the sofa and stare at the flames in the hearth as she makes her call. After she hangs up, she hands my phone back and plunks down beside me.
“They okay?”
She nods. “Yes and they’re happy I’m here and safe with you.” She pulls her knees up to her chest, and exhales softly. While there is a contentment about her, it’s easy to tell she’s worried about something. Could it be the life she left behind, or the future she’s facing? Not that it’s my business, and like I said before, the less we know about each other the better.
“Holly.”
What are you doing, dude?
“Yeah.”
“I realize this is none of my business, but who is he?”
Her nose crinkles. “Who is who?”
“The guy you’re running away from.”
She stiffens beside me and I take her cup and put it on the coffee table. I pull her against me, rest her head on my chest.
She goes quiet for a long time, and I trail my finger up and down her arm, waiting to see if she’s going to let it all out. “How do you know that?” she asks quietly.
“Your car. All your belongings were in it.”
“Aren’t you observant.”
“Sweet and observant, apparently.”
She chuckles, and it vibrates against my chest. “I met this guy in college, and we dated for a few years. I worked and put him through law school.” She snorts, and shakes her head. “In turn, he was supposed to support me so I could go back. In the end, he ended up falling for one of the partners.”
I give a low slow whistle. “What an asshole.”
She sits up, faces me and crosses her legs. “Yeah, and I guess I’m glad I found out before we became a power couple.” She rolls her eyes and does air quotes around power couple.
“You know office romances like that never work out, right? We have a no-fraternizing rule at our office.”
“My new job has that rule, too. I think it’s a good one, actually. My new boss has a lot of rules, apparently. I had to read the manual and agree to all the terms before I was given the contract.”
Shit, it almost sounds like she’s going to work for me. But that would be one hell of a coincidence and I don’t believe in those.
But do you believe in fate?
“Anyway, I honestly don’t care,” she says, pulling my thoughts back. “Let them be happy or miserable together in their office romance.”
“Sounds like you’re totally over him.”
She gives a slow nod. “I think I stayed with him because it was familiar, but after he cheated, I realized we wanted different things, you know. I never really wanted to be a lawyer. It’s not what I really wanted in life.” She draws a deep breath, and her eyes meet mine. “Can I ask you a question?”
I nod. “I guess it’s only fair.”
She glances around the cottage. “I don’t know you, but you seem like a put-together guy. How come you’re still single?”
I finish my coffee and set it on the table. “I don’t do relationships, Holly.”
“How come?”
“Women want one of two things from me. What’s between my legs or what’s in my wallet.”
“Well, I can’t blame them,” she says, a mischievous look on her face. “I’m a bit fond of this too.” She reaches out to stroke my dick. “But for what’s in your wallet,” she waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not interested.”
“No?” I ask, but I already sensed that about her, and that suspicion was confirmed when she insisted she pay for her own vehicle repairs.
“Nope, I’m just a simple girl, Will. I don’t need much to make me happy.”
Simple? She—this—whatever this was, didn’t seem so simple anymore. In fact, it’s growing more complicated with every passing second.
“I have one more question for you,” I say.
“Ask away.”
“What is it in life that you really want? What makes you happy?”
She smiles, and my pulse thuds against my neck. “It’s silly. You’ll just laugh.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy who’d laugh?”
“No, I guess not. Well, honestly, I love being in the kitchen. I love baking. To me, it’s an art, and when people enjoy my food, there isn’t a greater feeling.”
I put my hand on her thigh and give it a squeeze. “Now why would I find that silly?”
She shrugs and glances away. “My ex said it was a pipe dream and I wouldn’t be able to pay for the rent.”
I place my finger under her chin and draw her eyes back to me. “Haven’t we already established that your ex is a douche bag?” I say, and she bursts out laughing. The timer on the stove goes off and she jumps to her feet, a new lightness about her.
“I can’t wait for you to try these.”
I grab our coffee mugs and push from the sofa. Following her into the kitchen, I refresh our java and sit at the island while she removes the scones from the oven and plates them up. “Did you follow a recipe?”
“Nope, I just used the ingredients I found in your fridge and the cupboards.” She sits next to me and hands me a plate. “I used all your blueberries, I hope you don’t mind.”
“We can get more.”
“Are you always so easygoing?”
I laugh. “Hardly. You wouldn’t want to see me at the office.”
“Why so hard at the office?”
“Work is important to me,” I say, leaving out the part that I’m the owner of a multi-million-dollar business. “And things need to be done a certain way for a business to run and survive.”
“I agree,” she says. “Now eat.”
I bite off a piece of the hot scone, and it melts on my tongue. “Jesus, this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Her eyes go wide, as she beams up at me. “Really?”
I take a few more bites, chew and wash them down with coffee. “Wait, no, I’m wrong about that,” I say as I finish my last bite and pull her onto my lap. I slide my hand between her legs and when I find her completely bare, warm and wet for me, I groan. “You’re the best things I’ve ever tasted.”
7
Holly
It’s Sunday afternoon and according to the news reports, the roads won’t open back up until late Monday. My hope that I’ll make it to work tomorrow morning is fading fast, unfortunately. If I lose this job, I don’t know what I’ll do. The last thing I want is to move back in with my folks. Talk about a major step backward.
Even though my life is in flux, I can’t deny that I like being here with Will. Yesterday, after scones for breakfast, and a roll around on the carpet in front of the fire, we spent the rest of the day talking, or watching movies, and I can’t deny that I like everything about this man. Now here we are, showered and dressed and about to start cutting logs and hauling away debris.
With a saw in one hand and a hatchet in the other, Will glances around. This man has an air of authority about him, but I still don’t know what he does for a living. I get that he’s wealthy, judging from our earlier conversation. He wasn’t being boastful or showy when he said women wanted him for one of two reasons. He was actually kind of sad, and my heart hurt for him. But when it comes to clean-up duty, I’m sure he could hire someone to tend to this, but I kind of like that he’s not afraid to roll his sleeves up and do the hard work himself.
“What first?” I ask, having no idea where to star
t.
“You don’t have to help.” He gestures with a nod toward the cabin. “Why don’t you go back inside?”
“I want to help. You took me in, fed me, gave me warm clothes, food and awesome sex. It’s the least I could do.”
“The least,” he says, teasing me and having no idea what’s come over me, I go up on my toes and place my lips on his.
“What was that for?”
My heart takes that moment to miss a beat. “I have no idea,” I say.
“Feel free to do it anytime you like,” he says, and hands me the hatchet. “Do you think you can cut the branches off, and I’ll start cutting up the wood?”
I weight the hatchet in my hand. “Sure.”
“Wait, do you know how to use that?”
“It’s not brain surgery.”
“I’m serious, Holly. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
I step up to a felled tree, and hit the small branch with the hatchet. I lift the branch hold it up and turn back to Will. He has a small smile on his face. “I’ve got this.”
“Okay,” he says and starts the chainsaw.
I have to say my mountain man looks rather sexy and manly dressed in his flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up as he starts splitting the trees. I go back to my duties, and cut off all the small branches, piling them to the side for Will to either burn or dispose of. The afternoon speeds by quickly as we work together, taking small breaks to stretch out or grab a snack. The sun beats down on us, the air unusually warm for September, and soon enough I have quite the sweat going. I swipe at my forehead with the back of my hand, and in the distance, I catch sight of the lake.
“Want to jump in?” Will asks. I turn to find him staring at me.
“Yesterday I would have said no, but today…”
He sets the chainsaw down, captures my hand and we trek to the lake. “I don’t have a suit.”
