by L. A. Fiore
“Morning, Loki.”
His tail thumped again.
“Have you had a walk today?”
In answer, he moved, looking much like an old man rising from his rocking chair, but his tail continued to wag so I took that to mean he liked the idea of a walk.
Slipping on my shoes, Loki and I walked around the property. It wasn’t a huge property, maybe an acre or so, but with the trees and shrubs, it really did seem as if we were miles and miles from others. With the fenced-in yard and the gate usually closed, I understood why Rafe allowed Loki to walk around unleashed.
There was a bench under a tree at the far end of the property. Sitting down, Loki dropped at my feet and together we enjoyed the quiet of the early morning. About twenty minutes later, Rafe walked from the barn. I could honestly say in all of my twenty-nine years of living I had never seen a sight as beautiful as the one I stared at now. Rafe’s hair was pulled back in a man bun—never thought I’d find that sexy, but it was ridiculously sexy—and he wore sweats that hung from his hips, but just barely so you were rooting on gravity. He’d draped his tee over his exquisitely sculpted shoulder affording me a view of his naked and sweaty chest. I had been wrong, he didn’t have a six-pack; he had an eight-pack...an eight-pack. What was he doing in that barn? And could I do it with him? And he lived right there, right outside my front door. Man, did I score with this place.
The sound of the gates opening pulled my attention from Rafe in time to see as a station wagon, nearly as old as mine, came rattling up the drive. An older woman—reed-thin with white hair pulled into a bun—climbed from the car. Loki and I joined the woman on the drive.
“You must be the tenant.” She said in way of greeting, but it came across more like an accusation.
“Yes, I’m Avery.”
“Mrs. Milner, the housekeeper. Leave your linens in the basket in the mudroom and I’ll launder them for you.”
No way did my rent include housekeeping services, not that I wouldn’t welcome it. I hated doing laundry. “Thanks, but I can manage.”
“I’m not asking. I like the linens done just so.”
Her attitude definitely grated, however the woman was offering to wash my towels and sheets; I wasn’t about to argue the point with her. “Thank you, Mrs. Milner.”
“I’m here every Friday, please have the linens in the mudroom by Thursday evening.”
“Will do.”
And then she turned and walked away without another word. And as I pondered why Rafe would have a woman working for him with her disposition, he walked outside and the change in her was immediate.
“Rafe, dear. How are you?”
“Mrs. Milner. I’m good. I’d be even better with another one of those chicken and dumpling casseroles. It was so good I nearly wept.”
“Any time, you know that.”
“You look particularly pretty today. Did you get your hair done?”
What? Her hair was in a bun. How the hell could he tell?
“I did, just yesterday.”
“Mr. Milner has probably been chasing you around the house.”
Oh my God. I wanted to laugh out loud because Rafe was now handling the woman who had just handled me and she was happy to be handled.
She blushed; I could see that from where I stood. Rafe was out and out flirting with his housekeeper, who had to be in her sixties, and the woman was eating it up. And I liked it, liked the mischievous look in his eyes.
“He doesn’t run as well as he used to, but I let him catch me.”
I nearly laughed out loud again, Rafe did. His head tilting back as that happy sound rang around the yard. A sound that hit me right in the chest, the smile dimming on my lips because I had a feeling there was a lot to Rafe McKenzie and I really wanted to get to know all of him and not just in the biblical sense. And it was then that another car pulled into the drive: a sassy red convertible. The driver was exquisite, like sell your soul kind of exquisite, and probably the owner of that voice. She climbed from her car and she was nothing but legs. Even I stared, it was hard not to. She moved as if she floated, her hips swaying, her long curly—from a bottle but exceedingly pretty—red hair moving seductively around her shoulders.
Mrs. Milner glanced at the newcomer, her smile morphed into a sneer, before she turned her back on the woman and walked into the house. Rafe’s focus was on the woman, and maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he looked annoyed. That look didn’t last long because the woman draped herself around him like an afghan and took his mouth for an open-mouth—heavy tongue action—kiss. I was feeling suddenly really warm, and, if I was being honest, jealous as I stood staring at my landlord and his woman engaging in foreplay.
“Come on, Loki.” We didn’t need to witness what was sure to become a four-alarm fire. Once inside, Loki climbed on the sofa while I headed for the kitchen to work on my recipes, but all the while my thoughts were on that kiss, slightly edited with me as the one to bestow it on Rafe.
Waiting for Nat at the curb in front of Rafe’s house, I watched as her black Tesla sedan rolled down the street. It really was an exquisite car, but talk about flashy. Especially when you saw my blond-haired, blue-eyed sister behind the wheel. It wasn’t a wonder that heads twisted to keep her in their sights. She pulled into the drive and stopped at the gates.
“Nice car, show off.”
Her grin widened. “Nice neighborhood.”
Entering the code for the gates, she pulled her car up the drive and parked it next to mine. Seeing my car next to hers, yeah, my car was pathetic.
Nat climbed out, her focus on me. “Seriously, when are you going to get rid of that thing?”
“You know why I have it.”
Her normally exuberant personality dimmed. She, unlike me, had given up on our dad a long time ago. “The sooner you come to terms with the fact that that man isn’t much of a father, the better off you’ll be. I’ll buy you any car you want right now.”
“No.”
She reached for my hand. “You always were the eternal optimist. Okay, show me this place.” Before I could, she turned in a full circle to take it all in. “Wow. You weren’t kidding, it’s awesome.”
“Let’s get your stuff inside and then I’ll give you the tour.”
Grabbing her bags from the trunk, I led her into the carriage house. She stopped just inside the door and looked her fill. “You scored, sister mine.”
“Check out those pictures of what it looked like before.”
Her reaction was much like the one I had, her eyes bugged out of her skull. “Hot and good with his hands. I think you need to make a play for your landlord.”
“He’s with someone.”
Nat’s head jerked around so fast I was surprised it didn’t snap right off her neck. “What?”
“Yeah, saw her the other day. Victoria Secret models would be jealous of her. She and Rafe practically had sex right in front of me.”
“No way.”
“I almost came from watching them and they were only kissing.”
“You’re kidding.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “You aren’t kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
“Did you tell them to get a room?”
How funny would that have been, watching their startled expressions because I was sure they hadn’t even noticed me. In fairness to Rafe, he had been flirting with Mrs. Milner, but the chick…she walked right by me and hadn’t noticed me at all. “I don’t think they would have heard me.”
We passed the kitchen, where I had fresh-baked cookies cooling, Nat snagged one.
“I wonder if she’s a fling or someone serious.”
“I couldn’t tell. Seemed new, the passion was hot, but Mrs. Milner, the housekeeper, wasn’t a fan, so maybe the chick has been coming around for a while.”
“Housekeeper?”
“Yeah, she’s kind of scary. Rigid and no nonsense but she flirted like a schoolgirl with Rafe and he flirted right back. It was sweet. You coul
d tell it was the highlight of the woman’s week.”
“The man sounds like a contradiction. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
“I’m sure you’ll see him while you’re here since he spends most days in his workshop. Let’s go outside, you’ve got to see the rest of it. The main house is incredible, but in dire need of landscaping.”
“I did notice the lack of landscaping, but the stone of the house is gorgeous. And that porch, I see rocking chairs and mint juleps.”
“And outdoor ceiling fans to stir the air.”
We walked to the front of the house and Nat whistled. “It’s even prettier up close, the stones sparkle.”
“Imagine gardens softening the lines around the house, filled with colorful flowering plants, some variegated evergreens. Maybe even some hanging pots off the porch.”
“It’d be magnificent. I wonder what he paid for this?”
“According to Trace, he got it for a steal. You saw the before photos, the place was a mess.”
“He’s probably already doubled the value of the property.”
“At least.” We headed around back, passed the barn that was locked since Rafe wasn’t home, before ending the tour at the carriage house.
“You’re only paying a thousand a month? He could have made triple that, easily. All this and a sexy landlord for the price you’re paying. Seriously, if your landlord is as sexy as you claim and you get to live here, I’m going to kill you and steal your identity.”
At that moment, Rafe’s truck pulled up the drive. “You can decide for yourself how sexy he is.”
As soon as Rafe climbed from his truck, Nat exhaled. “Sweet Jesus.”
Rafe was eying Nat’s car before he turned and saw us staring at him. His head nodded to Nat before he gestured to the Tesla. “Yours?”
“Yeah.”
“Sweet.”
“He hates my car.” I muttered.
“I hate your car. I’m seriously going to kill you. He’s…I’m speechless.”
Rafe walked over to us, his focus on Nat and I noticed how he took in Nat’s height, since in heels she was nearly as tall as him.
“I’m Natalie, Avery’s sister. Some place you got here.”
“Rafe. Thanks.” Those green eyes shifted to me. “Hey, Avery.”
“Rafe.”
Even though his focus stayed on me, he asked Nat. “Did you come from Pennsylvania?”
“No, I’m in Chelsea. I love what you’ve done with the carriage house.”
“I needed a place to stay while I restored the house. It was good practice.”
“It doesn’t look like practice, it’s amazing.”
He looked a bit uncomfortable, not a reaction I would have expected from him. I moved the conversation along. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to be my guinea pig. Tasting my creations and giving me honest feedback. I’ve been experimenting.”
“So the pacing was a success?”
My cheeks burned and not so much from what he said, but how he said it. He was flirting, and after witnessing him doing the same with Mrs. Milner, he clearly had a penchant for it. “Yes.”
He grinned, that slight lifting of his lips that was just so damn sexy. “Twist my arm.”
In my head, we were no longer talking about my desserts and what I was twisting wasn’t his—Pull it together, Avery.
My face was on fire because my thoughts were so uncharacteristic; my reply was short and sweet. “Thanks.”
He studied me, his head tilted in much the way Loki’s did when I spoke to him. That grin never faded when he said, “I’ve got to get to work. Nice meeting you, Natalie.”
“Back at ya.”
We watched him walk to his barn and a glance at Nat confirmed that her eyes were on his ass too. “I am so killing you in your sleep.”
Settling at a table in Lunar Moon pub on Riverdale Avenue, Nat ordered two bottles of her favorite red wine before I had even removed my jacket.
“Dinner is my treat and don’t argue, Avery.”
“I’m not going to argue. You make the big bucks.”
“Yes I do.”
We scanned the menu, “I think we should get a bunch of appetizers.” Nat declared.
“Sounds good.”
Dropping her menu, her focus shifted to me. “I have news.”
My attention was split between the menu and Nat. “What kind of news?”
“I’ve met someone.”
That unexpected comment gained my full attention. “What? When did that happen?”
“At the conference in Seattle, the reason I couldn’t help you move in. He lives in Manhattan and yet it takes me traveling across the country to meet him. He’s a personal trainer, one that focuses on rehabilitation for sports-injury patients.”
“And you were at a conference together? Doesn’t seem like you practice the same kind of medicine.”
“Yeah, well, sports injuries aren’t just of the bone and muscle, head trauma and concussions are huge.”
“True.”
“Anyway, his name is Tyler.”
“From the way you’re grinning, I’m guessing his first impression was a good one.”
“Yeah. He’s so alpha and yet there’s a tenderness to him that just turns my insides to goo. And you know how the men I’ve dated tend to shy away from talk about my job; Tyler is fascinated with what I do. Not intimidated or uncomfortable, outwardly interested. And the sex…I thought it was lies, the way romance novels depicted sex, exaggerating for the benefit of entertainment. Oh no, I’ve first-hand experience that a man can actually give you multiple orgasms in one night.”
At this point, I spit out my water. Nat hardly noticed. “I want you to meet him. I could be in an orgasm-induced bubble, seeing more fabulousness than exists because the man can play my body like an instrument.”
“Seriously, he’s that good in bed?”
“Better.”
I was jealous, absolutely, because my sexual experiences had been good, but not great. And certainly not an orgasm-induced bubble great. “Definitely, I want to meet him? Orgasm-induced bubble?”
She sighed; clearly even the memory was good. Then she said, “It’s more than that. Sure it started as sex, but we’ve spent every night I’ve been free together. I enjoy his company.”
“Man moves fast.”
“Is that bad?”
“I don’t think so. If he knows what he’s found in you, he’ll want to make it clear he’s interested.”
“That’s what I think too.”
“I definitely want to meet him.”
“I’ll find out his schedule and we’ll arrange something.”
“I’m happy for you, Nat.”
“I want you to find someone.”
“Let me get my footing with my job first and then I’ll think about a man.”
“That’s fair.”
The waitress returned with our wine. “Do you want to sample it?”
“Not necessary.”
After the wine was poured and the apps ordered, Nat’s attention turned back to me. “So are you ready for your first day?”
“Some days I think yes and then some days I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.”
“Sounds normal.”
“I’ve been baking like a crazy woman, but the sheer volume in addition to the caliber of the restaurant, and the expectation of excellence from the patrons, it’s nerve racking.”
“You can totally do this.”
“I know, but it’s still overwhelming. Trace stopped by the other day with his daughter. They sampled some of my creations.”
“And?”
“He said he’d make a habit out of stopping by with Faith if I had desserts like that on hand.”
“Smart man. There better be some left for me.”
“Like you have to ask.”
Nat lifted her glass. “To the start of your new adventure.”
“And yours.”
She knew I was referring
to Tyler when she replied, “I’ll drink to that.”
Standing in the living room of Rafe’s house, envy burned through me. It was a little over a week since he offered me the tour. Nat had returned home, but only after purchasing me high-powered binoculars and demanding a blood oath that I send pictures regularly of Rafe, even suggested poses she’d like.
Studying Rafe’s home, I adored his taste. Not a surprise since I loved what he’d done with the carriage house. He kept his rooms simple, almost sparse, but the pieces in each room were amazing. And the house itself, the crown moldings, the wainscoting, the hardwood floors were original to the house and painstakingly restored. He’d painted his living room a deep mocha, the crown moldings a creamy-white. A large, chocolate-brown leather sofa, with the softest leather, took up the one wall near the fireplace. The stone of the fireplace matched the outside of the house; the floors were a wide-planked walnut and built-ins, crafted by Rafe, surrounded the fireplace. An exquisite clock made from exotic woods hung over the sofa. And as picture perfect as it all appeared, it felt kind of cold. Where were the photos of friends and family? The afghan over the back of the sofa for the nights it got cold? Where were the magazines to page through while snuggling up in front of the fire? Hell, where was the television remote? It was like he was creating a home, but not actually living in it. And as I stood there, I couldn’t help but indulge my fantasies as I visualized Rafe and me curling up on his sofa or better yet lying in front of the fire, naked and sweaty. Maybe my thoughts were inappropriate, but Rafe was a sexy man and I was only human. My focus turned to the clock over the sofa. For a craftsman, it was the perfect clock.
“Did you make that?”
“No, a friend sent it.”
He was leaning up against the wall, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He had given me the tour, spoke very few words during it, and now he studied me much in the way I studied his house. His phone had rung a few times during the tour. He hadn’t answered it at first, but the caller was persistent and when he did finally take the call, he was not at all happy with whoever was on the other end.
“Mrs. Milner, she’s a bit rough around the edges, but she’s a good woman. I’m mentioning this because I know you’ve met and on first impression she has a tendency to irritate people.”
