“You don’t look all that sorry,” she whispered in a hot, snarky tone. “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were going to be invisible?”
The smirk slipped away and for a moment a hint of pain, maybe even sadness appeared before it vanished. The man standing before her now wore a blank expression. Even his dark eyes were void of emotion. Guilt flashed through her along with a sudden memory of hearing similar words spoken to her.
Chance pushed that memory away with force and allowed her irritation to ride a second or two longer before taking a cleansing breath. With her heart and mind settled, she gathered her papers and said, “I’m sorry.”
“No, you have nothin’ to be sorry for,” he spoke simply. “I’ll stay outta your way until you summon me.”
“Hayes, you startled me.” She looked up to find the small room empty except for her. She had no idea if he could hear her or not so she simply let her apology drop. Well, no time to brood over it, she had customers to attend to.
The afternoon rushed by, customers coming and going, sales being made, and business cards handed out. She didn’t have to look at her books to know this year’s would be far better than last year’s. People genuinely seemed to like her wares. Especially the items she made, and to her, that was worth more than money.
By the time she and Jenny closed down the shop the sun had started to set. She dropped Jenny off at her house since the temperatures were slipping and then headed home. In the quiet of her car she finally allowed the thoughts she fought so hard all day to come forward. Where was Hayes and what was he doing?
Her mouth tasted bitter after snapping at him the way she did earlier. He didn’t mean to scare the life out of her, at least she didn’t think he did. He couldn’t actually help who he was either, like she couldn’t help being plopped in a home that undoubtedly didn’t want her. An overwhelming sense of hurt welled up in her chest and made her eyes misty.
Before leaving town, she stopped at the local diner and ordered two specials to go. She’d make it up to him—how did he put it—share her meal with him. He seemed to like that. Maybe if she explained to him that she wasn’t used to being around people so much he’d understand and stop giving her cardiac arrest. Yeah, it would all work out.
Chapter Six
Every mile the car traveled, his compulsion to remain so close to Chance diminished. He hated sitting beside her in his invisible state. It made him feel creepy and too much like a stalker. He’d much rather be seen. It would save her the startling jolts and him guilt. Who was he kidding? It would simply be nice to be seen by anyone for a change.
When she finally reached a tolerable distance to her home, he sent himself to the barn and perched in the rafters. He didn’t understand the hurt he felt when she blasted him today. It had happened before with other masters and frankly didn’t bother him one bit. Chance’s words sliced at him though. Genuine hurt filled his chest. Why?
Maybe because he hoped she’d be different, or because she showed genuine compassion while she doctored his burns? He looked down at her work area. Just a matter of hours ago they toiled side by side and he enjoyed it. Chance didn’t appear to mind it much either, allowing him to touch her precious works of art.
And why the hell was he sitting here brooding over all this anyway? Simple. She hurt him. He had to remember even as an immortal he could still feel pain both physically and emotionally. Opening himself like this would drive him mad and he’d worked hard to keep that from happening. Yep, stick to the basic plan. Grant her wishes or trick her into freeing him. There was no room for anything else.
Except for that odd flash of the past he felt earlier today. It seemed so damn real. He could actually smell her, the dirt floor and taste the whiskey on his tongue. Just for a moment it all made sense before everything evaporated and he found himself once again aching for this woman he didn’t know.
The sound of the car door slamming alerted him to her arrival. His first instinct was to jump inside the comfort of her home. Squashing that, he settled into the rafters and covered himself with a thick blanket. He told Chance he’d wait for her to summon him and that’s exactly what he intended to do.
* * * * *
Chance half expected to find Hayes sitting at her table when she pushed through the door. Instead, nothing but silence and emptiness greeted her. Thinking nothing of it, she put the Styrofoam containers with their supper on the counter, slipped out of her light jacket and kicked off her shoes. She noticed a slight chill in the house. Time to start a fire for the night.
It would soon be time to turn the heat on. She hated the thought of that. Heating costs were rising and her tight budget didn’t allow for the increase. There were downed trees in woods that butted up against her property. Maybe she could get permission to drag them into the yard and chop them up. A fire every night would help cut down the costs. It would also eat up her creative time in the barn chopping and hauling the wood, but a balance needed to be struck.
Nothing new there. It seemed she was always trying to balance something. Living alone had its advantages but having an extra set of hands around would be great at times. Company would be nice as well. Once she had a sufficient little kindling fire going, Chance tossed on a log and strolled back into the kitchen. She looked at the white containers, glanced over at the old whiskey bottle and then back at the food.
He did say to rub the bottle and he would be drawn back to her. No. She wouldn’t force the issue. If he didn’t want to be here inside with her then fine. Chance tossed her container in the microwave for a few seconds to warm it up, grabbed some silverware and sat down. The roast beef and gravy smelled delicious, made her mouth water, but she pushed it around, only taking a few bites.
She knew why Hayes wasn’t here. That look on his face when she snapped at him said it all. How many times did someone bite her head off for being in a place she had no say over? Entirely too many to count, that’s how many. And it hurt. The man may be over one hundred years old but like he said, he felt pain just like any other.
Chance dropped her fork, sat back in her chair and scrubbed her face with her hands. This is why she didn’t let people into her life. She had to watch everything she said and how she acted. Everything she did affected the other person and she’d had enough of that. She wanted to be responsible for herself, no one else.
Glancing over at the counter where the roast beef was slowly growing colder by the second only made the guilt grow. Damn it. She wouldn’t sleep tonight if she didn’t at least try to make things right.
“Hayes?” she said aloud, hoping he might be silently hovering around somewhere. “Hayes, I brought you supper. Would you like to join me?”
Nothing but the crackle of the fire filled the small area. Chance rose from her chair, walked to the counter where the whiskey bottle sat and stared at it. Twice she reached for the glass only to pull her hand back. Ugh, she hated the thought of touching it again. Finally she mustered up the courage, snatched the bottle off the counter and gave it a quick rub.
Nothing. Well, hell. He told her to rub it. He stood right there and said rub the bottle and I’ll come back. Chance frowned, gripped the bottle tight in one hand and ran her fingers over the glass with the other. A slight vibration filled her palm but as soon as she stopped, so did the movement. Chance repeated the caress of the glass and smiled as warmth and tingles raced up her arm, across her shoulders and down her spine.
Weird, but it felt pleasant, almost like being stroked by a lover. In fact, it felt so good she stood there lightly strumming the glass and reveling in the sensation for long minutes, almost forgetting her purpose for it in the first place. The warm tingling covered more of her body, racing down the backs of her thighs, wrapping around her legs and even tickling her feet. Her stomach fluttered, her heart palpitated and even her nipples reacted.
Suddenly a large presence filled the space in her kitchen. She felt him before actually seeing him materialize in front of her. This time instead o
f jumping, she only met his gaze as her fingers continued to stroke the bottle. Something appeared different about him though.
He seemed to be standing taller, his muscles bunched tight and oh, look at that, his hands were balled into tight fists at his sides. He couldn’t be that angry with her, could he? She let her gaze roam up his rising and falling chest, slide up his neck where the muscles were strained and frowned when she noticed his nostrils flaring.
Yikes, the guy looked incredibly intimidating, yet she didn’t feel scared at all. No, fright didn’t describe what was churning inside her body. Hunger maybe, heat, curiosity. Yeah, curiosity.
“Give me that,” he grumbled, reaching out and taking the bottle from her hands. “You’re supposed to rub it, not tease the damn thing.”
Chance arched an eyebrow, masking the disappointment she felt now that the wonderful, thrilling sensations vanished. With her mind slightly clearer, she realized if she could feel the unique effects, maybe he did too. He was connected to the bottle after all. Interesting.
“I wasn’t aware I was teasing it. In fact, I didn’t know a bottle could be teased.” What an interesting development.
Hayes rubbed his face with his free hand, combed his fingers through his dark mane and struggled for composure. Chance took a quick peek down and yep, that answered her question. He felt it if that bulge in his jeans meant anything.
“Is there something I can do for you, Master?”
Oops, he pulled out the “Master” title again. Her nastiness today hadn’t eased in him yet. “I brought you supper. Are you hungry?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the quick confused, shocked look on his face. In a matter of seconds he replaced it all with that blank mask of his. Oh she didn’t like that look on him, not at all.
“I appreciate the gesture, Master. But I will decline your hospitality for the evenin’. When you’re ready to make your first wish I will gladly grant it. Until then I’ll leave you in peace.”
Just like that he vanished. She noticed the bottle had returned to the counter but where the hell did he go? Chance picked it up and peered down inside, not that she could see anything. Well, this wasn’t going to work. She wanted to apologize and she couldn’t do it with him hiding. An idea struck. If he felt her gentle strokes on the glass, then he would feel other things she did. It made sense.
Chance gripped the bottle around the neck, jerked it off the counter and smiled. Anxious to see what would happen, she turned on the water faucet, let it run until it was lukewarm and then shoved the bottle under the stream. A memory of dipping another sleeping child’s hand in a bowl of water rushed forward. She’d gotten punished for it when the girl woke up screaming, her pajamas wet. Would that happen to him?
Chance turned the bottle to make sure the whole body got good and soaked before removing it. With a giggle, she stroked up the glass all the way to the opening. There, take that.
“Are you having fun?”
His deep, rumbling voice brought every nerve ending to life. When she turned and found him standing there dripping wet and bulging from his jeans, she lost all train of thought. Good Lord, did he make an erotic picture. His shirt clung to his upper torso so tight it was like he didn’t wear anything. And his jeans were hugging his thighs, those thick, concrete-crushing thighs.
“Why do I get the feelin’ you ain’t as sweet and innocent as you want people to believe?”
Chance jolted from her hypnotic state. “Oh, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” What did she do?
He crossed his arms over his chest, scowled down at her and dripped all over her floor. “Somehow I don’t think you are.”
Well, no she wasn’t, but that was beside the point. “Do you have something else you can put on while I dry those clothes?” An image of him naked popped into her head. Chance literally shook the vision away. What the hell was she doing?
“You sure there ain’t somethin’ else you’d like to do to me first? Maybe boil me then peel my hide off? Make an ice cube outta me?”
Okay, so she didn’t think this connection to the bottle thing all the way through. “I really am sorry, Hayes.” She grabbed some towels from the drawer and placed them around his feet to soak up the dripping water. “I’ll get a blanket you can wrap up in and I’ll wash your clothes.”
“No need,” he grumbled and with the flick of a finger his clothes were dry.
Chance frowned, sniffed the air and winced. “Ugh, that whiskey smell is worse.” She leaned forward and took a whiff of his clothes. The water only made the stale alcohol aroma intensify. “Seriously, let me wash your clothes. It’s the least I can do.” She ran to the living room and grabbed her biggest, thickest blanket. “Please?”
Hayes snatched it out of her hand. “I’ll use your bathroom.” He stomped toward the tiny hall, stopped and then turned. “Leave the bottle alone,” he commanded.
Chance held up both her hands. “I won’t touch it, I swear.” As soon as he closed the door she slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the laughter. Did he look perturbed or what? She glanced at the bottle again and then shook her head. Nope, he’d been through enough for tonight.
Instead of tormenting him further, Chance warmed his supper and set it on the table. When he walked out with the blanket wrapped around him like a too-small cocoon for a gigantic butterfly she nearly lost it. And then she took in the entire picture. The material came down to mid-thigh and barely covered his chest. Miles of taut, sun-kissed flesh was exposed, teasing her, heating her blood and reminding her she was a woman after all.
“Your blanket is a little small,” he said, trying to tug it closer and close up the gaps.
“I see that,” she answered in a breathy voice. “I think I might have another one. You can wrap one around your waist and use the other to cover your shoulders.” It seemed a shame to cover him up like that but reality knocked on the brain door. She didn’t know this man and there he stood all but naked.
Chance fished for another large blanket, found one and handed it to him. “I really am sorry, Hayes. I had no idea this would happen.”
He grunted, turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom. Leaving made quite the scene. With the blanket pulled tight around his ass, she could tell it was nothing but pure muscle. Hell, she could probably bounce a quarter off it.
“Stop it,” she whispered to herself. Game time ended. Be serious. To busy herself, she tossed another few logs on the fire, not that she needed any more heat but he could be freezing.
“This is better, thanks.”
Yeah, not that much better. The blanket draped over his shoulders, leaving his broad chest exposed. She quickly noted the line of black-as-coal hair that ran down his lower abs and disappeared beneath the blanket wrapped tightly around his waist. Speaking of abs, dear God, she’d never actually seen a six-pack on a living, breathing man before. Her fingers itched to touch them.
“Chance? What’s wrong?”
Wrong? She was standing here drooling over a one-hundred-year-old man built like a marble god who lived in an old whiskey bottle and said he’d grant her three wishes. What could possibly be wrong with any of that? “Nothing. Are you hungry? I warmed up your food. Eat, I’ll put your clothes in the washer.”
Eager to put some distance between them, she ran to the bathroom, snatched up his wet clothes and ran down the stairs to the basement. After jerking the chain to the single light bulb over her washing machine, she stood there. This wasn’t good. None of it. Him, half naked, being here and awakening feelings she’d successfully pushed aside. Twenty-four hours and already she’d lapsed back into her mischievous stage. This was one main reason she kept to herself.
The cold water from his clothes seeped through her shirt, chilling her. She looked down and noticed how tightly she clenched his damp clothes against her body. Slightly freaked out at, well, everything, she opened the washer and tossed them inside. As her hand touched the dial to start the cycle, she froze. How did one go about washing clothing
as old as this? Would it shred like wet toilet paper? Surely the threads were weak.
She scanned the settings and decided on the hand wash cycle. It would be gentle and still clean the stench out, at least she hoped so. With that chore handled, she made herself go up the stairs. Hayes sat at the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a sly smile on his lips.
“You aren’t eating,” she commented.
“I’m waitin’ for you. I’m a guest and a guest doesn’t start without the hostess.”
His gaze slid down to her chest and his eyebrows rose. She glanced down in horror when she saw her nipples sticking out through her shirt. Damn. Was it from the chill of the wet clothes or from him?
“I’ll be back in a second.” Chance ran to her room, stripped off her shirt and tossed it aside. To make sure she had all her bases covered, she tugged on a thick, heavy sweater that hung off her body. That should work.
As she walked into the kitchen, she noticed he hadn’t moved. Not until she sat down and took a bite of her supper did he begin to eat. Huh. Did people do that anymore? Neither of them said anything for long, quiet moments and Chance couldn’t take it anymore.
“Hayes, I’m really sorry about snapping at you today.”
He stiffened slightly. She could see his chest muscles tense, displaying deep valleys and angles. Even his chest hair seemed to stand up. Oh God, she had to stop looking.
“Like I said, no apologies necessary. It was my fault.”
That deadpan tone returned and she hated it. “No, I overreacted. I feel horrible about it. I know what it’s like to be dropped somewhere new and different, to feel out of place. Of all people, I should know better than to spew mean words at someone.”
Hayes carefully laid his fork down and folded his hands on the table. “Okay, apology accepted then.”
Her gaze darted up at his face where a warm, friendly smile elicited one of her own. Now why in the world did she care if he forgave her or not? It made no sense but she did.
WhiskeyBottleLover Page 7
