Celeste
It’s night,and I am alone in the house again. Because Daisy is off with Tom again. That complicates things. I should have spoken to her at dinner and made it clear that I needed her here tonight. This isn’t going to work if she has Tom as her alibi.
It’s already not going as planned. Liam was due to arrive long before night fell. He’s called three times with excuses.
My last meeting ran late.
Just heard from a client. Need to make one more call.
Grabbing dinner and heading out.
A few minutes after that last text, Tom’s pickup sounds in the drive. Voices follow as they unload the truck. I glance through the window and see that it’s only starting to get dark, and chide myself for my nerves. I can still do this, even with Tom around. I’ll invite him in for a beer and tell Daisy she’s welcome to join us.
I throw open the front door with an invitation on my lips. The yard is empty save for a window propped in the garden. I step onto the porch. The pickup is dark, engine off, no sign of its owner or Daisy.
I listen, frowning. Voices come from the side of the house, with a comment about the overgrown state of it. Daisy must have spotted something that needs repair, and she’s showing Tom. I’ll head back inside and start the popcorn. The smell is sure to add appeal to my offer.
When I return, they’re still around the side of the house. Murmured voices slide through the still night.
I trot down the steps. My earlier nerves have flitted away as the prospect of a pleasant evening dances before me. In another life, I couldn’t have imagined anything so dull—or Floridian—as sitting on the front porch drinking beer and chatting with a prison-tattooed mechanic.
No, I could have imagined one thing worse: if the mechanic made my pulse race... and I was stuck on that porch sharing him with a mousy young woman who he’s decided needs a big brother. Right now, though, it seems like the perfect evening. I can enjoy Tom’s charms and smiles with the safety guard of Daisy keeping my thoughts from galloping where they shouldn’t. That will still leave plenty of time to launch my plan after he’s gone. I just need to make sure Daisy doesn’t leave with him.
Maybe I’ll break out the scotch. I smirk at the thought of Liam showing up to see me sharing his gift with a mechanic who won’t know the difference between eighteen-year-old single malt and fresh-from-the-still moonshine.
That’s what you get for showing up late. And if you don’t show up at all... maybe I’ll find my company elsewhere. I really didn’t intend to sleep alone tonight.
Even as I smile at the thought, my gut twists. No, I can imagine the outcome of that, and it is not what I want. Not at all. I have plans for tonight. Big plans, and I cannot afford distraction.
I head to the side of the house. The voices have gone silent, and I slow. If Daisy and Tom are around back, I don’t want to take this route. It was impassable the last time I tried.
As I draw near, though, I see Tom has hacked a path. Enough moonlight shines for me to make out two figures standing very close together. I catch voices then, low and intimate.
Hair on the back of my neck prickles.
They are standing close enough to touch, and when I follow the curve of his arm...
Are his fingers resting on her hip? I can’t tell from here, and I’m sure it’s just the angle. When I look at their faces again, they’re still talking, Tom’s head bent, his hair hanging to shield his face. Daisy, though, is looking straight ahead, not up at him. He’s speaking, and she’s listening, and it seems like something she doesn’t want to hear.
Sorry, Daisy, I just don’t think of you that way.
Possibly, but I’ve seen no sign that she thinks of him that way. Her voice warms when she speaks of him, and she will smile, but it’s in the way one does if one finds a friendly face in a forbidding world. Nothing more.
I’m about to call a hello when Tom steps closer still, his face right above hers as she looks up into his.
He’s going to kiss her. He’s lured her into this hidden corner, said a few sweet words, and now he’s taking advantage of her vulnerable state.
Except she’s not so vulnerable, is she? Not the girl I thought she was. In fact, Tom might be the one in danger here.
She’s playing him. I see that now. Her body language had been screaming “No” a moment ago, and now he’s moved closer, saying more, and she’s looking up at him like a trapped deer, caught in the tractor beam of his charm.
He lowers his lips to her ear and whispers something, and I tense, ready to march down there and—
And what? Rescue her? She doesn’t need it. Rescue him? I doubt he does, either.
No, the only thing in need of rescue is my plan, which will be screwed if they decide to slip off into the night together.
When Tom leans in again, I barrel forward and stop a few feet away. I clear my throat, and they both jump.