“What does that mean?” Her eyebrow arched as we hopped out of the jeep.
I grabbed our bags while she carried the food, and as I led her through the unfinished ground floor, she noted the ancient thread winders, looms, and weaving machines.
“These are incredible. Do any of them still work?”
“I’m pretty sure they’re all out of commission at this point.”
Taking the lead, we climbed the stairs to the second level, the main living area, and when I switched on the lights in the vast, open warehouse I'd been transforming into a home, wonder filled her expression.
It’s the same size as the space below, but the red pine floors have been sanded and sealed. Heavy cypress beams are uniformly arranged throughout the open space, creating a sense of symmetry. The living area is complete with linen couches and chairs, a 72-inch flatscreen television, a gas log fireplace and sisal rugs.
The kitchen and dining area is in the center with a full, gas stove and oven, quartz countertops, and stainless appliances, then behind it is my bedroom and sitting area. A California king is hidden behind heavy beige canvas curtains hanging from the soaring ceilings overhead. I even have a workout area with weights and a bench on the opposite end.
“This is amazing.” Her voice was hushed, and I shrugged with pride.
“Hutch keeps insisting I hire someone to complete the exterior and the first floor. Maybe I will. I’ve just been having fun doing it myself.”
I didn’t add that I was lonely and bored out of my mind, and now that she’s come into the picture, my brother’s words are making a lot more sense.
We changed into comfortable, pajama-like clothes, a pair of shorts for me from my closet. A pair of short shorts and a long-sleeved thin tee for her from her bag.
The dark circles of her areolas were visible through the thin beige fabric and almost made me forget how hungry we both were, but my stomach growling told my dick to take a break.
So I parceled out the food and poured us each a glass of white wine. Now our bellies are full, we’re a little buzzy, and she’s making me read to her my favorite parts of my favorite Harry Potter book.
“Why do you read this when you can’t sleep?” She lifts her head, resting her chin on her hand. “It starts with a nightmare of murder.”
“Yeah, sorry about that.” I trace my thumb across the top of her cheek. “I think because it’s the first time Harry faces down the evil who killed his mom. He learns she died saving his life.”
Her eyes are warm, and she touches my cheek. “Losing someone hurts so much. For the longest time, I tried to act like my father’s death didn’t hurt me, that I was strong enough to take it.” Her voice lowers, and I tighten my arm around her. “Four years ago, I decided it wasn’t working. I had numbed the pain for so long with vodka, and when I finally felt it, I was determined to get answers… and revenge.”
She adds the last part so softly, I’m not sure she meant for me to hear it, but I did.
“They say revenge is a poison you give yourself.”
“And wait for the other person to die,” she sighs, rolling onto her back. “I know.”
“When my mother died, I used these books to escape the pain. I think I wanted to live in a place where magic might bring her back.” Exhaling deeply, I set the book aside. “I blamed my father for not being there for her. He left her with three kids and moved to New York to pursue his own interests—in every way. I hated him so much for it. I wanted to make him pay for breaking her heart.”
It’s an old bitterness that burns on my tongue when I speak it, but it turns her to me again, gazing up at me with curious eyes. “What did you do?”
“Nothing… to him.” I think about this topic as I have over and over in the last few years as I’ve watched my brother then Scar find love and happiness. “I simply stopped believing. I stopped trusting anyone. Until I was completely alone.”
Her palm is flat on my chest, and she rests her cheek on it, studying my face as if she understands every word I’m saying, every motivation. “But you’re so charming and approachable. You’re very handsome.”
“You’re very beautiful.” I lean down and kiss her nose. “My problem is subconscious. People get too close, and I create distance.”
“Am I too close?”
Lifting my hand, I smooth her hair off her face. “You’re right where I need you to be. Except when I need you to be under me.”
I give her a teasing wink, and her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. Her chin dips, and she presses a kiss to my bare chest. She holds for a moment, almost seeming like she wants to tell me more, but her head tilts to the side instead.
“You have two siblings? Who’s the other one?”
“My sister Judy died of ovarian cancer almost ten years ago.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She sits up to meet my eyes with her round ones. “You’ve had so much loss compared to mine.”