Chapter 3
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Back at the little apartment she opened the windows to let in some air. There was no air conditioning and she wouldn’t have used it if there were one, because she couldn’t really afford to waste money on the electric bill.
She’d barely made it out of the divorce with a few thousand dollars, money she’d squirrelled away each month to plan for a trip. Money, Paul knew nothing about or she was sure he’d have taken that as well.
Every time she thought of the injustice of it, she got really sad or really mad. The fact that someone who had once proclaimed undying love for her could do such a horrible thing to her left her cold and afraid. The world truly was a scary place.
She had a sudden flash of Kyle and the way he’d looked down at her. She wondered what kind of man he was. She knew better than to judge a book by its cover, look at what the boy next door had done to her life. But there had to be some kind of story there, what with all the tats and that bike.
She actually found herself daydreaming about him as she sat there recalling that little zing when his hands had touched her skin. Lucille was right.
It sure did feel like sparks. She ran her hand over the spot before reality struck back.
It was never too far these days, always nipping at her heels that self-doubt. As usual, after each high she had to face the low, but she was getting better at it. She knew that when this bout of melancholy passed, she had her writing to look forward to, so she let her mind go where it wanted for now.
It was the same every day almost verbatim. Her mind would list everything that was wrong with her life, all her limitations. There were more stumbling blocks in her way than she cared to count. But today, there was something else to worry and gnaw over. Like writing was all fine and well, but it wasn’t going to pay the bills. Not for a long time if ever, if she wasn’t good enough to get published. And the fact that she wasn’t qualified for anything more than a waitressing job, and there was nothing available in the little town.
She’d need a vehicle to drive to the nearest city forty-five minutes away since there was no public transportation, and for a car you’d need insurance. Paul had removed her from all their insurance policies at about the same time he’d cancelled her credit cards and transferred all the money from their joint account.
She had no vehicle and no means of transportation, no way of getting around. They’d only ever had the one car since the old second hand one she’d bought years ago had given out not long before the marriage had.
Looking back, she realized that she was as much to blame as Paul and Jenny. She was the one who’d made the choice after all, to give up her own identity so that he could become the great surgeon he’d always wanted to be. She was the trusting fool who’d put all her eggs in one basket and given her care and livelihood over to the snake that was her ex.
It wasn’t easy accepting her part in her own demise, but it was part of healing she supposed. Instead of shying away from reality as she had been doing, maybe it was time to take it all out and look at it for what it was. It was time to stop sugar coating things and remembering them the way she’d wanted them to be instead of the way they really were.
Maybe Ms. Lucille was right. Maybe the divorce had been a blessing in disguise. And maybe one day that thought might make her feel better. For now she chose to shove it aside before it had time to overshadow the rest of her day. As far as her mind was concerned, it was her biggest failure.
She looked around at her little rinky-dink apartment and sighed with relief that her first outing hadn’t been the disaster she’d expected. Now with the morning’s flagellation out of the way, she gave free rein to the excitement that had been bubbling just under the surface from the second that little white box had been placed in her hands.
Dropping her bag on the floor, she placed her new best friend on the table and headed into the kitchen. Grabbing a cold cup of coffee, she sat at the little broken down table and fished one of her stories
out of the box, ready to transfer the words from paper to machine.
She read the little booklet that came with the computer and was a little flummoxed to find that she needed Internet connection to set the thing up. “Well crap.” That was a little disconcerting after the high she’d been feeling only a minute ago. Then she remembered that there might be a way.
A few months back the new mayor had made a big deal over the fact that he’d single handedly brought Internet service to their little backwoods haven. She knew a little bit about free wireless connections so she searched around for one in the area and lucked out. That brought her second real smile of the day. They were coming easier now than they had in a long time.
She went through the mess of setting up a free trial with one of the better word programs and fought back the dread of what would happen when that trial was up. Today seemed to be the day she was finally ready to put one foot forward, because even that thought didn’t nag at her for too long.
Running her hands lovingly over the keys, she said a quick silent prayer that whatever came of this would be for her good. She could do with some good. In the end she decided to forego the older stories for the one she’d started the day before and was soon lost once again in her reawakened passion.
She sat there for hours just tapping away, the joy of creating coming back to her with every word. She didn’t feel the hours go by, didn’t feel the crick in
her neck or the hunger that made her stomach growl.
Words poured out of her as if they’d just been waiting there beneath the surface for release. When she started seeing the story unfold in her mind’s eye, sucking her in, the characters coming to life on more than just paper, she knew she was on the right track.
She wasn’t thinking about making it rich, she wasn’t that delusional. But at least here was something that could take her away from herself if even for a little while, and she reveled in it.
She was startled back to the present by the loud banging on the door. “Who could that be?” Her first thought was that it was Paul coming back for her. He’d come to his senses and realized he’d made a huge mistake and wanted her to come home. Her heart raced for the first five seconds before she scolded herself for being a spineless ninny.
She pulled the door open and almost tripped over her feet. “You, what are you doing here?” He lifted a bag in the air that smelt like heaven.
“Ms. Lucille was worried about you so she asked me to run this over.” He didn’t wait for an invite just walked right in and placed the bag he was carrying on the table next to the computer.
“Come on in.” She said facetiously, which he ignored.
“Don’t mind if I do.” He started reading what she’d written until she rushed across the room and folded the laptop closed.
“Hey.” Her face was ten shades of red and she avoided making eye contact.
“Pretty steamy. I’m under strict orders to make sure you eat so let’s go.” Thank heaven he didn’t embarrass her by mentioning what he’d read. She well remembered the last words she’d tapped out on the screen. Crud!
“I’m not hungry right now, I was just getting into the groove of things.”
“I can see that.” He smirked at her and she could’ve kicked her own ass for opening up that door. He took pity on her though and dropped it.
“You been at this thing since this morning?”
“Yes so?”
“Eat.” He took the containers out of the bag and went into the kitchen for cutlery. Kerry could do nothing but watch, mouth open, as he took over her house. He asked her where stuff was and she had to clear her muddled brain to answer as she stood just where he’d left her as if transfixed.
She was reminded once again of just what a gorgeous man he was. Her cheeks heated up as she realized why it was that she had been able to picture the story she’d been in the middle of writing so vividly. Oh crud, it was him. She’d somehow subconsciously superimposed his image over that of the hero
in her tale.
He moved around the room like poetry in motion, opening drawers and reaching up for plates, while she stood transfixed taking it all in. Oh yeah, he was most certainly who she was picturing while writing those hot steamy scenes.
Her eyes widened in self-deprecation. She hoped he hadn’t seen the description of the character. She’d just die on the spot of sheer humiliation. She calmed down only when she reassured herself that those words had been written hours ago and were no longer visible on the screen.
She tried to keep her eyes above the belt so to speak but the man sure did something wondrous to a pair of jeans. She couldn’t decide which was better the front or the back. And what are you doing Kerryanne?
She turned her head quickly when he returned from the kitchen after rattling around in her drawers. He brought in two plates and set them down on the table. That brought her out of her reverie quick.
“Wait, you’re staying?”
“Yep, what do you have to drink?”
“Um.” She was a little embarrassed as she tried to rack her brain to remember if she had anything other than coffee or tea.
“I haven’t been to the store yet this week sorry. I do have coffee if you’d like.”
“Don’t sweat it we’ll have coffee after. Eat up, Lucille makes a mean lasagna.” He plated two heaping helpings for both of them before taking a seat. She had no choice but to follow, and the food did smell amazing.
She dug in and didn’t realize how hungry she was until the savory meal hit her stomach. “Wow this is really good.”
“Told you. Here, have some of this bread.” He broke off a piece of the mouth watering homemade garlic bread and held it out for her. Sparks flew again when their fingers brushed against each other and she pulled back quickly with the warm bread in her hand.
Their eyes met and held and she warned herself not to fall for his perfect face and movie star physique. She was nowhere near his league, and besides, there was no way she was going to ever risk her heart again.
You can always just have a wild torrid affair and keep your heart out of it. Her mind teased. If only she was made that way. “So how long have you known Ms. Lucille?” That was safe enough and kept her mind from travelling too far into the gutter even if her voice did sound like a drowning squirrel.
“Pretty much since I was a kid, we use to come here a lot back then, but then life got in the way and my family hasn’t been here since I was like thirteen.” He took a bite of food and her eyes followed his every move. Pitiful! He even chewed pretty.
Paul always ate like it was his last meal and someone was standing over him to snatch his plate. Dammit why are you comparing? You will not go there. She scolded her wayward mind. Good, now that that’s settled.
“Oh, she told me about your grandmother I’m so sorry for your loss. Was she ill for a long time?”
“Not really no, she was eighty-three, started suffering from Alzheimer’s in the last few years. We wanted to put her in a home but my grandpa was against that so we had someone come to the house instead. She just passed peacefully at home in her sleep. Now I’m trying to talk grandpa into moving back with me but he’s not budging.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been so caught up in my own life I had no idea any of this had been going on. Your grandparents were really nice when I was growing up.” They had been, like most small town lifers, the neighborly type who knew everyone and was always friendly.
“Yeah, they’re salt of the earth types, married sixty two years and never spent a day apart, not since my grandpa came back from the war anyway.” He seemed proud of that fact as he forked more noodles and meat in his mouth. Meat! Oh dear heavens Kerry what the hell is wrong with you? She cleared her throat and took a sip of water.
“Wow that’s amazing, you don’t find love like that anymore that’s for sure.” She thought of her own failed attempt before squashing the memory. Hey even that was getting easier.
“I don’t know about that, my mom and dad have been at it for thirty five years and they’re still going strong.”
“Huh, lucky them.”
“A bit jaded are we? That sounds kind of ominous for someone who’s writing steamy love stories.”
Her cheeks heated up again at the reminder. “That’s just fiction, everything looks better on paper.”
“If you really believe that-that’s sad.”
“Okay then what’s your story? Where’s your wife?” Mr. Know it all. He studied her for a long time before answering.
“I don’t have one as yet.”
“What you haven’t met anyone to hold your interest?” She all but dared him with her eyes. Since when do you ask a complete stranger his personal business Kerryanne? Geez, maybe the writing has gotten to you. She wasn’t usually that forward with anyone, in fact she was more the silent type. The one who kept quiet when things were going on around her; never wanting to make waves. Well look where that got me? Nowhere.
“We’ll see.” It took her a minute to remember what it was they were talking about and when she did she ducked her head and went back to eating. The look he gave her left no mistake as to his meaning but she’d been down that slippery slope once already and had no intention on going for another ride. Especially not with someone that looked like him; he was the poster boy for Player’s R’Us. No way no how! Besides, they’d only just met a few hours ago. The man was crazy.
“So tell me about yourself Kerryanne.”
“What do you want to know? There isn’t much to tell I’m afraid.”
“How old are you?”
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s impolite to ask a lady her age?”
“Bullshit.”
His answer startled her for a second. She wasn’t accustomed to anyone speaking to her in such a blunt manner. She shouldn’t be surprised though. After all, he wasn’t like anyone she’d ever known before with his million tattoos and bad boy looks.
Not to mention he rode a bike. He was probably some gang member or something. He didn’t fit her idea of a biker though, aren’t they supposed to have potbellies and grizzly beards?
He stared at her until she shifted in her seat. “Twenty-eight.” She said grudgingly.
“Good you looked younger I was starting to feel like a perv.”
“Why would you feel like that?” She couldn’t believe she was flirting.
“You can’t be that green.” She opened her mouth to say something else but he cut her off.
“We’ll save it for later. I’ll clear while you make that coffee.” He got up and her eyes went directly to his ass in those jeans. She cleared her throat and looked away.
“I really need to get back to my writing.” She wasn’t sure she could keep from putting her foot in her mouth if he hung around much longer. He made her nervous as hell. Not to mention she was starting to feel hot and that was so not a good thing. She wouldn’t begin to know what to do with a man alone in her apartment, and even though he hadn’t made a pass at her, his every word seemed to skirt very close to flirtation. At least that’s how her feverish mind interpreted them.
“Don’t be rude, you have a guest and you promised me coffee.” He didn’t wait for an answer but cleared the remaining dishes and headed for the kitchen. She got up to follow him and get the coffee started. Maybe she could speed things up and get rid of him fast so the unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach would go away.
She tested herself to see if the food was going to stay down and was amazed that she didn’t feel sick at all. Wow, so many hurdles jumped in one day. Maybe, she was finally on the mend. One could only hope. Her first venture out into the real world hadn’t gone too bad. Maybe things had really taken a turn for her after all. I mean here she was with a totally hot stranger enjoying a meal. Something she wouldn’t have imagined in a million years any of the hundred times she’d been crying her guts out on the bathroom floor.
He kept getting in her way as they moved around the small kitchen together. She snuc
k quick peeks at him every time his back was turned, and as much as she told herself she was playing with fire, she couldn’t deny that he was one fine specimen.
For a long time she’d seen Paul as the perfect man. He had clean cut frat boy looks that had always made her heart beat faster. But this one did strange things to her equilibrium. Wild unsettling things!
She could lie to herself and put these new feelings down to the stuff she’d been writing, but she knew better. Besides, she’d promised herself never to bury her head in the sand about anything again, and if she couldn’t be honest with herself, well then…
There was a pulse beating between her thighs that she put down to just being horny after going without for so long. Though her and Paul’s sex life hadn’t been much to speak of since their hot and heavy high school days, she did have a healthy sexual appetite. Just because she was divorced didn’t mean she was dead.
Still, she wasn’t about to open herself up to that kind of heartache again, and especially not so soon. She took two cups in and found him staring out one of the pitiful little windows into the dark. There was something about his stance and the way his mouth tightened before he turned and looked at her that told her he didn’t like what he saw.
Again she felt embarrassment sting her cheeks. The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but it was all she could afford. The place could do with some repair, but she kept it clean and neat with the few furnishings that had been left behind. That was one of the reasons she’d taken it. The landlord had told her that the previous owner had left in a hurry and hadn’t taken anything.
Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to afford furniture of any kind, she’d jumped at the chance. He held out his hand and she passed him his cup. At least those she’d bought at the dollar store. Not china, but not chipped and stained either. She hoped he didn’t notice the cans of sauce that served as two of the couch legs or she’d just die.
“Why so jumpy Kerry? I promise you that you are in no immediate danger from me, relax.” That was reassuring. ‘Immediate’. They stared at each other until she was the first to look away, hiding behind her coffee cup. She was at a loss at what to do next, but he seemed very relaxed and sure of himself as he moved around her little apartment.
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