Guilt money. Or rather, guilt real estate.
In fact, she was a prisoner, only this jail was of her own making and there was nothing she would do about it.
Amelia sat down in front of her laptop and worked until dawn. Her agent was harping on her about her latest book and she wanted to get the draft finished ASAP. That way she could have a few quiet months during the editing process to herself. At least then she could finish up some of her decorating and renovations. She had most of the work done with a contractor, but she kept two rooms closed off for her to have free reign. One was her bedroom, the other was her attic. For now she slept on the futon she set up in the spare suite downstairs and she was going to work on the rooms with her bare hands.
Her latest would finally finish off her series of erotic suspense novels. She never would have imagined writing erotica, but after she healed and her fiancé left her, she had no sexual outlet. Her libido returned with a vengeance after the first four years of her celibacy and there was no man available to slake her pent up desires with. Nor did she want one, as she was too disturbed by her own body now with the scars and mottled skin from numerous grafts.
But it would have been nice to not feel so alone sometimes, to have someone hold her and care how she felt. There were nights more often than not where she had wet dreams starring her ex. She didn’t hate Charles, there was no reason to. She couldn’t blame him. How could he want her, when she didn’t even want herself? He tried, but the pressure was too much for him to handle when it was apparent that she would never look the same.
When she was burned, he delayed the wedding over and over. At first, the reasoning made sense as she needed to recuperate. But when she was as healed? Then, it became crystal clear that he didn’t want to go through with it at all. Though in Amelia’s opinion, it was better that their relationship ended how it had, versus being a married couple and her losing everything after the I Do’s were said and done.
But her ex was decent in bed, enough that she had orgasms. Although, she had only been with Charles, so if he sucked, there was nothing to personally compare to anyway.
Hence, her nightly naughty desires were given life in the form of a suspense series that had taken off pretty well.
She made just as much as she did with the self-help novels, and the erotica was easier on her schedule. There were no public appearances, and she didn’t have to think about the mechanics of it. The novels were under an assumed name, and she kept the series to herself. Only her agent and her publisher knew who she was, and that was the way she liked it.
The following Tuesday, Amelia received a phone call. She was working on her attic at the moment and she was sure that hanging the ceiling fan herself was not such a good idea. The step ladder was just a hair too short and she was exhausted from standing tip-toe for the last hour. She was far from a prima ballerina and the dust in the air was enough to keep her sinuses at attention from rapid fire machine gun sneezing. The phone rang, the sound dim as the device was plugged into her kitchen socket and the caller was lucky she heard anything at all.
When she ran downstairs and looked at the caller id, she saw it was the grocery store.
“Hello, how may I help you?” She wondered what the call was for.
“Hi, is this Amelia?” His voice was amazing, like the balm of aloe on sunburnt skin, cooling and calming all at the same time to her ear.
“Yes, this is she.”
“It’s Benjamin, from the grocery store. I thought I’d call and check on you. I didn’t know if you needed anything, so I just thought to ask.” She was shocked to say the least. She was silent for so long that Benjamin had to ask her again. “Do you need anything?”
“Thanks for calling. I don’t need anything that I can think of today but dish detergent. Maybe you could bring some by with my next order?”
“I don’t mind carrying it out to you… today, if you want. I live just a couple miles down the road and it’s no hardship to stop on my way home.”
Why? Did he want a chance to stare at the freak? “Sure, that would be just fine.”
But even with those misgivings, she accepted anyway and she had no idea why.
Yes, you do. He is cute though.
She clicked the green phone button to end the call and leaned back against her marble countertop. It took her half an hour to shake the disbelief off of her shoulders and continue with her day. She was finally able to hang her fan and the rest of the work was left for another time.
Later that evening as promised, he brought the soap to her. She took time to make sure she was presentable and showered along with a touch of makeup to hide the discolored tissue on her cheek. She put on her favorite mock neck shirt in a buttercup yellow and a pair of khaki slacks. It was a perfect night to enjoy the weather and she made a quick decision to change into something light and airy as soon as he left. She walked downstairs barefoot and started dinner.
The doorbell rang out, Phantom of The Opera interlude broke into the peaceful cooking sounds her shrimp made as the crustaceans sizzled in her skillet. She pulled the pan from the gas heat and flipped the burner off before she walked to the front door. The cutie from last week was on the other side with a bag in one hand. She tried to hand him a twenty dollar bill for his trouble and gas, but yet again he rebuffed the gesture.
She had to offer yet again. Nothing in life was free, and Amelia would rather pay in advance than on the back end. “Gas is expensive. Don’t you think that you should take it?”
“No thanks, it was no trouble. Like I said, this is on the way home for me anyway.” His multi-hued brown hair glinted with golden streaks under the porch light. He smiled and she was taken aback at the beautiful teeth, almost blindingly white displayed before her. She couldn’t help but to respond in kind and smiled back, even though the motions felt strange. She hadn’t genuinely smiled in years, and the scar tissue always pulled when she tried. But this time the gesture felt good, almost natural again.
Chapter Two: Country Boy Curiosity
Benjamin called Amelia and he wasn’t sure why. She had ordered enough food to feed a baseball team last week. But, he wanted to hear her voice and even he wasn’t sure why the need was there. He’d thought about her for the last days and even expected a call from her for some kind of household odd or end she lacked. But when there was no contact from her, he decided to make a call of his own. No sooner than he dialed the number he’d committed to memory last week, Ben called himself a million kinds of fool.
It shocked him that he really wanted to see how she was doing. For some reason Ben couldn’t forget about her, no matter how he tried. The fact that she was extremely private didn’t help matters at all. Amelia was far from an open book and it seemed he might never get the chance to meet the woman she truly was. That was one thing folks quickly learned to discard in the country. Miles may separate neighbors, but they would know someone’s business quick, fast, and in a hurry. Sometimes even before the involved parties did.
Yet, when she agreed to let him drop off detergent he was elated. Even though he would only be able to see her for a minute, at least he would know that she didn’t need anything more than what she’d asked for. When he left the store and rode to her house, he jumped out bag in hand before he was even fully parked in her driveway. His knee bothered him slightly and Ben knew he over did the stocking today. There were too many boxes, plus the delivery was later than usual and combined with a sudden rush of customers left him without an extra pair of hands.
But he still finished just a little behind schedule and was able to make it to Amelia’s by seven-thirty.
The doorbell was unusual, he knew the tune, but wasn’t sure where from. As soon as he got the chance to pick up on the melody the door opened. Amelia was lovely, her skin was flushed from steam and the smell of Alfredo sauce and shrimp wafted out to greet him before she could. She must have made it from scratch, as he recalled the heavy cream and block of parmesan cheese she had him deliver.
&
nbsp; She, once again offered him money for his trouble and yet again, he said no. She seemed none too short of money and she liked to keep people at arm’s length with it. Eventually, Amelia would understand that he wasn’t going to take anything from her. All he wanted was some of her time and until that was on the table, he would refuse anything less. He smiled at her and the resulting spontaneous grin from her made the long drive worthwhile. But just as quickly, the smile drooped and she was a blank slate again.
“Thank you, Sir.” She moved to close the door and he couldn’t help himself.
“It’s Benjamin, and you’re welcome.” The door closed firmly in his face and he walked back to his SUV.
Six Months Later
Benjamin had no idea when he became obsessed with Amelia. It just was, like he needed air or water. She still hid herself from his gaze and he had seen every conceivable color and style of turtleneck that had ever been made. She still made him leave her parcels at the front door every Tuesday night. The only difference was that the last few months he had the chance to get to know her. He treated the scant minutes weekly as they were a date and ensured he smelled nice, even if that meant a shower first. He made sure that he always served her with a smile. For some reason, he had to know all there was about her.
They had an unspoken game where every week he would ask her a single question and most weeks he spent thinking long and hard about what he really wanted to learn. The only sacrosanct topic was her injury and how it happened. It wasn’t anything that she had to spell out, but he could see that there were certain borders that she was comfortable within and he refused to ruin the twenty minutes he got with her once a week by pissing her off.
Benjamin rubbed his knee, it was full of pins and with the way he’d been pushing himself he couldn’t see how he was going to make it today without a painkiller. He hated the damn things, as the pills made him slightly loopy. But, if he could hold out until this evening, he promised to reward himself with a beer.
After he was done for the day, he loaded her groceries into his car and headed towards Austin Road. When he parked, the house was unusually dark but he rang the bell anyway. There was no answer and for a moment he felt a vague sense of concern. Where was she?
She popped around the corner wearing a dirty apron and carrying a bucket of gardening supplies. “Hi, Ben. Sorry about the wait, I was out back gathering some of the veggies for my dinner tonight. I have some really beautiful cucumbers and tomatoes. Would you like some?”
“I’ll take some of the cucumbers. Thanks.” He was allergic to tomatoes, they gave him hives. But he would be happy to eat some fresh cucumbers tonight. It’s not like he had eaten stranger things for dinner.
Today, she wore something aside from a turtleneck and he was shocked slightly. In place of her usual top she wore a crisp button down men’s shirt and a pair of leggings. Both were black, but the fact he got to see the hollow of his throat surprised him, as she didn’t usually show even that much skin. He could clearly see her wrists and just a few inches of her forearm from the rolled back sleeves also. But to keep her comfortable, he didn’t mention the change in her wardrobe at all.
She walked to his Durango and popped the trunk hatch. He ambled down the steps and grabbed the bags in the space before she could take anything.
“I would have liked to help.”
“Nah, I’ve got this.”
But when he turned around he saw her holding two books. Shit.
“Some light reading?” She asked, but the expression on her face was one of surprise or confusion. He wasn’t sure which. “Just kidding. For your girlfriend?”
“You know I don’t have a girlfriend Amelia.”
She quirked a brow upwards. “For your mom then?”
“Nope, they are mine.” She chuckled and he felt a bit embarrassed.
“Okay then.” That was all she said and even though the words weren’t posed as a query, he felt like he was supposed to respond.
“I was in a bad accident a few years ago. My sister, Lilith, gave me a box with random books and there was a copy of the Straight Jacket diaries along with a few other novels. I ended up reading the entire series and loved it. The other is the most recent copy of Ambrose Jenner’s series. The first installment was in the box Lilith gave me and I have to admit that I’m hooked on it.”
“Wow. I never pictured you as the type…”
“To what? Read, Amelia? Yeah, I like to read.”
“Not that, Benjamin. Just romance novels? Didn’t see that one coming.”
“Yeah I bet you didn’t. There’s a lot about me that you don’t know. And that’s because you don’t want to find out.” He was pissed. In all of the months that he tried to get to know her, she hadn’t even paid one iota of attention to him or the tidbits he dropped into their conversations. He heard every word she said, along with parts unspoken and she was unable to even retain whether or not he had a girlfriend. Even though he had made it clear on several occasions that he was single.
Why he even bothered trying to get this woman’s attention when it was clear that she didn’t even want it was beyond him.
“Sorry that I pissed in your Cheerios this evening, Benjamin. Excuse me.” She walked past him, lugging one heavy sack inside with her.
Today, Ben wasn’t feeling the idea of being dismissed like an errand boy or menial servant at her doorstep and he followed her inside with the remaining parcels. When she turned around and saw him inside of her space, he saw a look of terror flash in her eyes.
“Here you are, Amelia.” The fear quickly melted into scorn and she took the bags into the kitchen.
When she returned she had yet another fistful of bills in her hand, despite the fact he’d never taken anything extra.
“Here you are.”
“Amelia, how many times will I have to tell you that I’m not going to take your money before you get it through that thick skull of yours?”
“I am far from stupid Benjamin. What in the hell do you want from me? Is this help a cripple month or something?” She spat the words at him and they hit him like bullets one after the other.
“Cripple month? Is that what you think this is? How about pity party month? I don’t see a crippled woman in front of me. But if that’s what you see…” He let the words trail off as there was nothing more he had to say.
“If you don’t mind, I have some things to take care of.”
“Like what Amelia? Hiding in your plantation house on the backside of Union County?”
Her eyes narrowed and Ben knew he had taken this too far. But he was too incensed to stop now. He could see the look of ire scroll across her features, but shoot, he took the cake for irate. He’d been enamored with a woman for months. And she not only refused to give him the time of day, he wasn’t even on her radar.
When she grabbed the nearest bag and began to unpack it, Benjamin took the others and did the same. He found the gift that he’d brought her and sat the bottle on the counter. She looked up from her freezer and he enjoyed the amazed glint her eyes took.
“What’s that?” She asked. But her eyes seemed to thank him.
“It’s a bottle of moscato. I know that it happens to be one of my sister’s favorites and I thought that you may enjoy it. “
“Lucky sister.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
”Nope.” Her tone was a bit lonely, as if she was an only child that longed for a sister or brother growing up.
“Don’t sound so sad. It’s not as much fun as it seems. The grass is always greener on the other side.”
“That’s easy to say Ben, especially when you’ve got Kentucky blue grass in your own yard.”
“You act like you’ve got crab grass here.”
“I do.” He knew she wasn’t referring to the yard, which was immaculately trimmed and green as a Georgia pine.
He thought a change of topic would be welcome. The last thing he wanted was to have her associate him with bad memories. “
What are you cooking tonight? Smells good.”
“Cornish game hens.”
“You held on to those for a while.” She had ordered the hens well over two months ago.
“Yeah, well I felt like having that today.”
“Wish I could have some.” Yeah, he knew that he was being obvious, but the last months of hinting at what he wanted hadn’t worked.
“Sounds like you are angling for an invite.” She sounded nervous, almost as if she wanted him to be asking for a meal, but in the same token was afraid of him.
“Yeah, I guess I am. But the question is, are you gonna bite?” The expression on her face was priceless, and he wasn’t sure what answer he would get.
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