“Argh! Why are you so fixated on having days off? I need you when I need you.”
Vivian didn’t respond.
“All right. Tomorrow morning, nine sharp. You show up in my room with the dustpan and broom. Got that?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Viv said the “ma’am” part on purpose, knowing Uvi hated it. She was getting sick of kowtowing to this demanding woman.
“And don’t call me ma’am. You know I hate that.” Uvi abruptly hung up.
Vivian snorted a laugh and went back into Cody’s room.
“That bad?” he said with a crooked smile.
“Yes.” She settled on the edge of the bed again. “She wants you to call her if you’re not better tomorrow. And apparently she’s been trying to get hold of you all day.”
He rolled his eyes. “Crap.”
Viv pointed to his phone on the bureau. “I powered it off so you wouldn’t have to hear from her. I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s perfect,” he said. “I honestly couldn’t deal with Mizz P’s neediness today.”
Viv smiled. “That’s what I thought. Now. You ready for that soup?”
“Sure.”
He gave her a million dollar smile, and she thought she’d melt on the spot. Her knees literally wobbled, and she laughed at her body’s bizarre response. Why was he so darned good looking? And why did her body react that way to someone she barely knew?
She heated up the chicken noodle soup and brought it in on a bed table she’d found under the sink, with crackers and more soda with ice. “Here you go. Be careful, it’s really hot.” She placed it across his lap and backed off, choosing to sit in a chair by the window this time.
“Thank you. This is what my mom used to make me when I was sick as a kid.”
“That must’ve been nice.”
“Yeah. Didn’t your mom make soup for you?”
Vivian couldn’t help it, but the mention of her mother brought her to tears. She tried to hold it back, but the sobs erupted and she turned her back to him and buried her face in her arms. “Yes, of course.” She convulsed a bit more, then the weeping slowed. “I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Viv?” He stayed in bed, pinned by the tray with hot soup balanced on top. “What’s wrong?”
She wiped at her cheeks, trying to collect herself. “I loved my mom, she was great when I was little. I just… I miss her.”
“I didn’t know,” he said softly. “When did she pass?”
Viv turned to him with reddened eyes. “She didn’t. She’s in the nursing home. She lost her memory.”
Cody’s face went white. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay.”
“Isn’t she awfully young for this to happen?” he asked gently.
“She is. Youngest case on record in our county, I guess. They call it Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease.”
“Does she still know you?”
Viv shook her head and stood, looking out the window. “Most days, no. But once in a while she’ll get a glimmer of memory and say my name.”
“That’s gotta be hard.”
“It is. Yesterday she thought I was her twin sister, Katrina.”
“Whoa. How’d you react?”
“I just let her think I was her sister. Sometimes it’s easier that way.”
“Is Katrina still around?”
Viv bit her lip. “No. She died a long time ago. I’m the only one left from my whole family.”
“Wow.”
Viv walked toward him. “Of course, you know what it’s like to lose someone. You lost your dad, right? Before you even met him?”
“Right. Like I told you, I found out who he was just after he died in that accident. And my mother has completely cut off all ties with me. She freaked out when I decided to live with Finn and Libby, instead of staying with her and her new guy, and that brood of six spoiled kids he brought with him.”
“She never calls you? Or asks you to come down to see her?”
“Nope.” He leaned over to take a sip of the steaming broth. “When she found out I’d come back up here to my father’s homestead, she blew up. She’d never gotten over hating him for getting her pregnant. Like she didn’t have a part in the whole thing.”
“She told Jax she had an abortion?”
Cody’s face fell. “Yeah.”
“That’s harsh. If he’d known you were actually born, he might have wanted to know you. To be in your life.”
“It’s too late now,” he said with a deep sigh. He took another sip, then glanced up at her with a sleepy smile. “Hey, let’s get off this depressing subject. Let’s talk about something fun.” His words were starting to slur.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Like music. Who’s your favorite band?”
While he dozed off and on, Vivian talked about The Beatles and Doors, and all the sixties bands she’d come to love through her parents’ old album collection. Finally, when the sun stretched golden fingers across the floorboards, she sat up and glanced at her watch. “Oh my gosh. It’s almost four.”
He lay on his back, eyes half-closed. “Thanks. You really made me feel better. But I have one question before you go.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Do I stink?” He sat up on one elbow. “I mean, I must reek. Go ahead, be honest.”
She wrinkled her nose and laughed. “Okay. You do have a certain, um, aroma to you.”
He grimaced. “I thought so. Will you help me get to the shower? I can’t stand myself.”
“Of course. Come on.” She helped him up and walked slowly with him to the bathroom. “Sit here while I start the shower for you.” She closed the lid and left him on the commode, then twisted the shower spigots until the water ran warm.
When she turned, she found him standing behind her, leaning against the wall. He’d already shrugged out of his shorts.
“Don’t look.” He laughed. “Although it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”
She felt the blush creeping up her neck again. Oh God, he didn’t just do that, did he? She stuttered a laugh, averting her eyes. “It’s no big deal.”
When he did a double take and his jaw dropped, she realized he’d taken offense at her comment.
Stumbling over her words, she said, “No. I didn’t mean that you are no big deal. Or that you aren’t—”
He snorted a weak laugh. “Just kidding.” Without hesitating, he stepped into the shower. “Thanks. I guess I’ve got it from here.”
She waited in the bedroom, and when the shower finally turned off, she heard a thump and a groan. She hurried to the bathroom and found Cody collapsed, half-hanging over the tub wall.
“I guess I do need a little help,” he said apologetically.
She grabbed his arm and helped him up, trying not to look at him below his waist. She wasn’t very successful.
Slowly, he straightened, leaning hard against her.
She wrapped a towel around his waist and helped him back to bed.
“There you go.” He slipped out of the towel and she pulled the sheets over him. “Better?”
He lifted his fevered eyes to hers. “Thank you. I think I love you.”
“Sure you do.” She tucked him in and gave him one more dose of Tylenol. “I’ll be back later to check on you, okay?” Quietly, she backed out of the door and started toward her room in the main house.
Chapter 17
“Vivian!” Uvi’s voice was strident.
Viv had tried to sneak past her door, but the woman must’ve been lying in wait for her. She popped out into the hallway and blocked Vivian’s way.
“Did you plug in his phone?”
“I’ll do it when I go back over. He’s sleeping, Uvi. He needs his rest.”
“Hmm. Maybe I should tend to him. He is my employee, after all.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Viv bristled. “It’s not a problem.”
Uvi grabbed her arm, pulli
ng her hard. “I told you. I don’t want you messing around with him. You understand that rule, don’t you?”
“It’s not like that,” Viv whispered.
“It better not be,” Uvi said, leaning forward. “Because if I catch you two screwing on my property… ”
The words burst from Vivian’s lips before she could stop herself. “I’m not a slut.”
Uvi pulled back with wide eyes. “Well, no. Of course you’re not. I didn’t mean…”
“Good night, Uvi. I’ll see you in the morning.” Viv stomped down the hall with her head held high. She’d had enough of this woman for one day.
Slamming her door shut, she flopped into her armchair and clicked the remote for the little television she rarely watched. Fuming, she flipped through until she found the weather channel, watching the reports on the hurricane that was building in the Caribbean. It was going to be a bad one, the weather girl said. They’d already named it Hurricane Delilah. And there was a chance Delilah might come up the coast at the end of the week.
“Great.” Vivian clicked off the television and looked around. If the storm did come their way, they might be right in its track. What preparations had to be done to protect the mansion? Did they have to cover the windows with plywood? Vacate the premises? Would Cody be well enough to handle such jobs, if they needed him? Well, she’d help him where she could. She could hammer nails. Hell, she was tough as nails. Wasn’t she?
“Sure you are,” she said aloud. With a laugh, she grabbed her Kindle and began to read her romance novel again. By the time she got to the steamy sex scenes in Soldier’s Choice, she was feeling antsy and warm all over. She stripped out of her sweatshirt and ran her hand through her hair. “God, why am I reading this book? I knew it would make me… make me want a man.” Longing filled her body, and she couldn’t help but think about Cody. Naked Cody. Cody and his beautiful, sinuous body. Cody and his shaggy, dark hair. Cody and his laughing eyes.
Cody.
She lit some candles in the bathroom and started a bubble bath, sprinkling lavender bath salts into the warm water. Before she got in, she locked her hall door and then the bathroom door, barricading herself inside. She didn’t need Uvi storming into her private world, especially when she was feeling so vulnerable, filled with such yearning.
Cody had stirred her up, and as much as she wanted to forget about him, she couldn’t.
What would it be like if he made love to her? How would it feel?
Peeling out of her clothes, she sank into the warm bubbly water. She washed her arms, legs, hips, stomach, nipples, and feet with a soft sponge. She squeezed the sponge gently, watching the soap bubbles slip across her skin, loving the feel of it and the greedily inhaling the scent of the lavender oils infused in the bar of soap. The acute sensuality of the act made her long for more, and with a guilty shiver, she lay back in the water and reached one hand down between her legs.
She realized instantly that her body was ready for something, even if she didn’t have the means to fully satisfy it. Her muscles squeezed and pulsed when she massaged herself. She moaned as she flicked her finger faster. Lying on her back, she wiggled closer to the faucet, turning it on hard so the water poured onto her most private areas. She could almost feel him inside her now. Opening her legs, she wiggled closer to the stream of water, so that it beat down on her, invading her with its warmth and persistence.
“Cody,” she said breathlessly. She imagined him kissing her, licking her breasts, and coming closer with his huge organ. Now he placed the head of his manhood against her, and she pictured it poised there, ready to drive into her. “Now, Cody. Now,” she whispered.
Her orgasm surprised her, cresting wave after wave of pure pleasure. It had never been like this before, never even close. This time, imagining a real man who she had just been so close to… the sensations shot through her with gratification of the most delicious kind.
She wondered how it would feel if he were really with her in this tub. If she were sitting on him, sliding up and down on him? She pictured him in the cave, coming at her, ripping her shirt away, kissing her so hard… and her second orgasm was stronger than the first.
When it was over, she felt completely wrung out, with no strength in her body. She could barely shift her arms or head, but she slid backwards into the cooling water, her body aflame with throbs of pleasure; her mind awakened to the possibilities and the kind of relationship she’d missed her whole adult life.
She mused about all the times she’d turned away from a boy who might have liked her, because she had to get home to take care of her dying brother, or because she was embarrassed about her mother’s behavior before she was transferred to the nursing home.
She’d missed out on a lot. And soon, the backing away, ignoring men’s smiles, the turning into herself had become her way of life. A habit.
A habit she wanted to break.
Maybe she should respond to Cody’s flirting. Because that was what he was doing, wasn’t it?
Maybe he’d really like her back.
Was it even possible?
She closed her eyes and imagined them together in the cave again. But this time, she pictured herself accepting, taking him inside her with one fast driving motion.
This vision would have to sustain her for a while. Because if she were going to open her mind to the possibility of Cody, she’d have to work up a helluva lot of courage. And that would take time.
Chapter 18
Around seven o’clock that night, Vivian made two sandwiches of cream cheese and jelly and packed them into a bag. Maybe Cody would feel like eating tonight. If not, she’d eat one and would leave the other in his refrigerator. She grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge, just in case he wanted something other than Sprite, a couple of ripe bananas from the wooden bowl on the counter, and headed over to his apartment with a spring in her step.
His light was on, and she could see the curtains fluttering in the windows she’d opened earlier. She took the steps two at a time and trotted down the narrow hallway to his apartment door.
“Cody?” She knocked gently and tried the knob. It was still open.
The place was silent. No television or music in the background. She called to him again, softly so she wouldn’t wake him if he were sleeping, and entered the bedroom.
“Cody?”
He wasn’t in his bed.
Concerned, she hurried to the bathroom, whose door stood wide open. “Cody?”
There he was, curled up on a bath rug by the tub, still naked. She knelt by his side and felt his forehead. “Oh, God. You’re burning up again.”
“Cody? Can you hear me?”
He raised his head groggily and gave her a half smile. “Dizzy,” he mumbled.
“I thought you were doing better.” She helped him sit up. “Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.”
Slowly, he got to his feet, leaning heavily on Vivian’s shoulders. They shuffled back to the bed, and he dropped onto the mattress sideways, with his feet sticking out over the edge.
“Wrong way, buddy.” She carefully maneuvered him so his head was on the pillows and his feet pointed in the right direction. And for a moment, she just stared at his body. He lay like a sleepy child-god, with ringlets of dark hair spilling over his face, sculpted to perfection, and sun-browned everywhere except on his cute butt, hips, lower belly, and the remarkable equipment that lay beneath. She’d never really seen a man’s private parts up close, except in brief flashes with her brother when they were little kids, or occasionally when he was sick in the end. But she’d never really looked, and of course, she didn’t want to. But now—this was different. She wanted to look. She wanted to touch him.
She hovered a few fingers over the silken skin. He looked so soft, so beautiful. But she stopped just before actually touching him and withdrew her hand.
What’s wrong with me? Geez, am I some kind of pervert?
She knew she should cover him up. Now she felt like some kind of
sick voyeur. Hurriedly, she picked up the balled-up sheet from the floor, shook it out, and spread it over him. It fluttered in the air and settled gently over his feet, legs, and torso.
“You need more Tylenol,” she said. She shook out two pills from the bottle on the nightstand and filled a small glass with fresh water. It wasn’t easy, but eventually she got him sitting up and awake enough to swallow the medicine.
“There you go. That should help.”
He flopped back on his pillow again and watched her for a few minutes through his fevered eyes. “I know you.”
She emitted a nervous laugh. “Of course you do, silly. It’s me. Viv.”
“Vivian,” he said. “You left me.”
She ran her hand gently over his brow. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay with you, if you want.”
He nodded and reached a hand toward her. “Don’t go.”
“Okay. But we’ve gotta get you hydrated. I think you need to drink more so you aren’t so weak and dizzy. And, um, confused. Can you do that?”
She worked with him for the next ten minutes while he emptied the glass of water, then refilled it. “Can you drink more?”
“I guess.”
He struggled to stay awake, but she managed to help him drink another glass.
“There you go. Sleep now.”
He snuggled sideways against her and her heart melted.
How had this happened so fast? How had she fallen for him in only a few weeks?
She stroked his forehead, pushing back his unruly curls. He fell asleep in minutes, and after tidying up the bathroom and kitchen again, she unwrapped her sandwich and ate it. Washing it down with orange juice, she refrigerated the other sandwich and looked around the room.
Should she really stay with him?
She told herself she’d promised, so she had no other choice. And after all, she didn’t want to leave. She loved being with Cody.
With determination, she walked over to his bookshelf to see what kind of books he’d collected over the years. To her surprise, they were the classics.
There was a collection of Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, and Moby Dick by Herman Melville. The entire two shelves were taken up by similar classics, but below, on the lower shelf, she spied some more popular titles, including Dean Koontz, Harlan Coben, and Blake Crouch.
The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2) Page 8
