by T L Swan
Christopher’s eyes flick over to me. “It’s probably fucking haunted.”
“Shut up.”
I glance over at him and he holds his hands up in a spooky gesture. “Ohhhhhhhhh.” He makes a ghost sound. “You’re not going to be scared out here all alone, in this big old haunted house . . . where nobody can hear you scream?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap, as I imagine being terrified all alone.
“I wonder how many people died in it.”
“That’s it.” I stop the car. “Get out.”
He bursts out laughing.
“I mean it, get out. I brought you here to look at my new house, not so you can scare the fuck out of me.”
“So, you admit it, you are scared? At least now I know what I’m getting you for a housewarming present.”
“What’s that?”
“Ghostbusters’ voucher.”
“I’m going to punch you.”
I continue driving and we pull into a driveway. The stone sign next to the gate reads:
Enchanted
“What does that mean?” Christopher frowns.
“It’s the name of the house.” I widen my eyes. “You can’t be that stupid.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You’ve got to change that though, right?”
“No.”
“Oh God, this just keeps getting worse. You want to live in the enchanted castle with your princess?” He curls his lip.
“Something like that.” I smile and keep going up the long, tree-lined driveway for around three miles.
“This is all your land?” Christopher asks as he looks around the rolling green hills—it’s picture perfect.
I smile proudly. “Yep.”
“Wow, impressive.”
“That’s me, fucking impressive.”
He chuckles and we drive around the lake and arrive at the house. The real estate agent is parked and she gets out of her car. I give her a wave and pull up.
Christopher peers through the windshield at the old sandstone house. “Yep. She’s fucking haunted, alright. It’s even got a moat.”
“It’s a lake, dickhead,” I whisper as I get out of the car.
“Elliot.” Brianna smiles, shakes my hand. “Welcome to your new home.”
“Thank you.” I feel Christopher walk up behind us. “This is my brother Christopher.” I introduce him. “This is Brianna.”
“Hello.” She smiles shyly, her eyes lingering on his face, and I have to try and stop my eyes from rolling. How this woman sells any houses with the amount of flirting she does is beyond me, although it does explain the amount of listings she has.
“Welcome to your new home.” She hands the keys over; a red bow is tied onto the keyring. “When do your things arrive?” she asks.
A vehicle sounds in the distance and we all turn to see the moving truck slowly coming up the driveway. “That’ll be them.”
“There is an envelope in the top drawer in the kitchen with all the instructions for everything.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you to it then. Congratulations, I’m sure you’re going to be very happy here.”
I shake her hand. “Thank you.”
“And remember, if there is anything I can do. Anything,” she accentuates. “You have my number.”
I fake a smile. “I do, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”
She smiles as if waiting for me to say something more.
I look over to Christopher and he raises his eyebrows. I have zero attraction to this woman.
Awkward.
“Okay, bye.” I march up to the front door and with a sad wave she gets into her car.
I put a key into the lock, it doesn’t turn.
“Did you fuck her?” Christopher asks as he watches her car drive away.
“No.” I wince as I struggle with another key. “As if.”
“She’s very—”
“Weird.” I cut him off as I try another key.
“Yeah, anyway. Open the door.”
“What do you think I’m trying to do here?” I jiggle the lock.
The truck pulls up and four movers all get out. “Hey there.”
“Hello,” I call. “Won’t be a moment.” I struggle with yet another key. “Fuck it,” I whisper. “Why didn’t she tell me what damn key it was?”
“Maybe you’re supposed to just walk right through the door?”
I inhale deeply. “Christopher, so help me fucking God.” The key finally turns and the door pushes open with a deep, long creak.
Christopher and I peer in and then look at each other, and then go back to peering in.
It’s gigantic, and grand, with incredibly high ceilings and fancy cornicing. Dated and otherworldly.
It’s like a step back in time.
Utterly beautiful.
“Wow,” Christopher whispers in awe.
I smile broadly as I imagine how cool I can make this place.
“I know how it got its name,” he whispers again.
“Me too. I’m enchanted already.”
KATE
I lie on the couch while eating Nutella out of the jar with a spoon.
“You know that shit gives you a fat ass, right?” Daniel says as he puts his laundry away.
“Nobody is going to see my ass anyway.” I sigh.
“Oh, except Elliot Miles. What’s happening there anyway, you haven’t mentioned him all week. Is that what’s wrong with you?”
“This has nothing to do with Elliot Miles,” I lie.
Maybe a little.
“What then?”
“The fact that my sister is a bitch. I just want a sweet sister who cares, you know? Sisters are supposed to be built-in best friends.”
He smiles and sits at my feet, picks them up and puts them on his lap. “That’s it, I’m dragging your ass out tonight.”
“I’m not going out.” I sigh.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
I raise my eyebrow. “You always say that.”
“And it always is.”
“Where are you going?”
“An art auction.”
“What?” I sit up. “Where at?”
“Here in London. Do you want to come?” He smiles sweetly.
“Actually.” I bite my lip as an idea rolls around in my head. “Maybe I do.” I stand with purpose. “But first you need to make me look insanely hot.”
Daniel chuckles. “Mission accepted.”
It’s nine when we walk into the Halifax function room, a ballroom at the Conservatory of Music. The venue for the art auction.
I’m wearing a deep-blue fitted dress with long sleeves and a low back, sky-high stilettos, and my hair is down and full. I’m totally dressed up in designer samples and I look good.
At least I hope I do.
To the left of the room is a bar and everyone is mingling; canapés and champagne are being walked around on silver trays. To the right of the room an auction is going on, and you can hear the auctioneer calling. The crowd is eclectic and the sound of jovial chatter is loud as it echoes around the high ceiling.
I look around: Where is he? Is this even the right auction?
“Let’s go and look at the auction,” I whisper.
Daniel puts his arm around me and we walk over to that part of the room. There is a huge painting on an easel and about fifteen people are gathered around it.
“One point one,” I hear the familiar voice snap. Elliot is standing front and center, bidding.
I pull Daniel back so we can watch unhindered.
“I hope his dick is as big as his wallet?” Daniel whispers.
It is.
I giggle.
“Be nice,” I whisper back.
I watch as Elliot bids on the painting, completely focused on his task. He’s wearing black jeans and a black knitted sweater; his dark hair is messed to perfection. His words come back to me.
I was too attached.
I smile t
o myself as the bidding war continues. We stand at the back and watch the proceedings; I don’t know whether I’m appalled or impressed at his drive to own the painting. It’s obvious for all to see that he won’t back down, that painting is as good as his.
It’s unsettling to watch him like this, cold and detached to achieve his desired outcome. His words come back to me: I’m looking for extraordinary. Is this what he would be like to achieve that goal? Emotionless and hard; is that why he pushed me to the side . . . to make way for his extraordinary woman?
“Sold,” the auctioneer yells as he slams the hammer down. “Mr. Miles, congratulations.”
The crowd all clap in awe.
“Honestly, he has more money than sense, the painting isn’t even that great,” I say.
“Do you see that handbag?” Daniel leans in and whispers. He gestures to a woman.
“Yes.”
“Fifteen thousand pounds.”
My eyes nearly pop from their sockets. “What the hell?” I whisper.
Daniel laughs and pulls me closer with his arm around me as we chat.
I glance up to see the glare of Elliot, the fury emanating from him is thermonuclear.
Huh?
He marches over. “Get your fucking hands off her,” he growls.
My eyes widen in horror.
What?
Daniel’s grip around my waist tightens. “Go to hell.”
Chapter 16
“Elliot,” I stammer. “What are you doing?”
“I said. Get. Your. Fucking. Hands. Off. Her,” Elliot sneers through gritted teeth.
Daniel smiles sarcastically, totally unruffled; he raises an eyebrow. “What’s your fucking problem?”
“You are.”
Holy crap. I pull out of Daniel’s grip, this is a nightmare. I glance around to see that people are noticing the commotion.
Elliot steps forward until they come face to face.
I step between them, my back to Daniel. “Will you stop it?” I whisper.
“Get out of my way, Kathryn,” Elliot whispers angrily.
“Go home, pretty boy, she’s here with me,” Daniel whispers.
Elliot’s nostrils flare as he teeters on the edge of a complete meltdown.
“Will you two stop it?” I whisper. “Elliot, I want to talk to you . . . outside.”
His eyes stay glued to Daniel, like a cobra ready to strike.
What the hell?
“Now, Elliot.” I grab his hand and pull him back from Daniel. “We need to talk.”
He ignores me.
“Now.” I drag him through the crowd and out of the back doors and onto the terrace. I pull him over into the corner. His hands are clenched by his sides. Fury is oozing out of him like a volcano.
“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper angrily.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls. “You ended it with me . . . for him?”
“No. Who said we were ended?”
“I’m not fucking stupid, Kate, he’s all over you like a rash.” He drags his hand through his hair as he grapples for control.
“We’re just friends,” I whisper.
“With benefits.”
“No.” I throw my hands up in disgust. “Me and you are friends with benefits.”
“You left out the dramatics part.”
“What? You spoke to me like crap,” I snap. “And for your information, you’re the one that wanted casual.”
“With no other fucking people,” he interrupts.
“Oh, you can go home with Varuscka but I can’t live with him?”
“It was a fucking lift and nothing more.”
I roll my eyes. “The jury is still out on that one.”
“Does he sneak upstairs whenever he’s horny?” He nods as if picturing something. “I’m getting the full picture now. Of course, that’s it.”
“Listen.” I poke him hard in the chest. “If you want to spend time with me, act like a grownup and not a fucking petulant child.”
“What?” he explodes loudly; people around us all turn to see what the commotion is.
“Keep your voice down,” I whisper angrily. “Where’s the swoony guy who took me out?”
He holds his hands out wide. “I’m right fucking here, Kate.”
“No. You’re not. You’re being Elliot Miles on me, the power-hungry control freak, and I don’t like him. I’ve never liked him.”
“I can’t change who I am.”
“I’m not asking for a marriage proposal, Elliot. I’m not even asking for a full-on relationship.”
“What are you asking for?”
I stare at him for a moment as I collect my thoughts. I know I can get hurt here, it’s a real possibility, but I’m sick of being scared of feeling something . . . anything. And even if this ends badly, I won’t have the what-if regrets that I already do.
Fuck it, I’m going to try.
I have to.
“I want you to give us a chance, and not be an asshole every time you get scared,” I whisper softly. I need to cool this situation down.
“I’m not scared,” he spits.
“Bullshit.” I take his hand in mine. “Stop trying to hide from me, Elliot. I can see straight through you.”
He snaps his eyes away from me, infuriated. “I don’t want him touching you.”
“Okay.”
His eyes meet mine.
“Elliot . . . I don’t want to end this . . . whatever this is,” I whisper. “I’d like to see where it goes, but I don’t want you making me feel like shit every time you’re having a bad day.”
A frown crosses his brow.
“Can we just see how it goes, and you not be an asshole for two minutes?” I ask.
“I told you, I can’t change who I am.”
I think he may just be the world’s worst communicator. Empathy fills me and I stand up on my tippy toes and softly kiss him; he frowns against me as if surprised.
“I’m not a plumber, Kate,” he murmurs as he puts his hands on my hips.
“But you are very good with my pipes.”
“Well . . .” He gives me a slow, sexy smile and I know that for the moment, my tiger has been tamed. “They are great pipes to work with.”
“Can we go home?” I whisper.
“What about your date?” he replies flatly.
“Daniel?” I shrug. “I’ll handle him. He just needs someone to walk into a venue with, he’ll pick up a gorgeous woman in about ten minutes flat. You don’t need to worry about Daniel, Elliot, he is the last of your worries with me. I’ve seen him pick up women a million times. I promise you, we really are just friends.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face and I know he liked that answer. “If he baits me again, it’s on.”
“Okay.” I smile up at the mercurial man before me. “I’ll talk to him.”
“I just moved house today.” He shrugs. “I’m not sorted yet; my house is full of boxes.”
“That’s fine.” I smile. “I don’t care if we sleep on the floor.”
“Who said anything about sleep?” he says as he raises an eyebrow.
I smile up at him and he takes me into his arms and hugs me, and it’s tight and tender and full of unexpected emotion.
Maybe we really do have something here?
“Meet me out the front in ten minutes?” I ask. “I just need to go and say goodbye.”
He pulls back and keeps my hand tightly gripped in his.
“I’m coming out in ten minutes, tops,” I reassure him.
He exhales heavily, and I know he doesn’t want me to go back inside to Daniel.
“Elliot.”
“Fine. You have five minutes.”
I kiss him quickly and make my way back into the auction room. Daniel has moved and I look around. Where is he?
I find him talking to a group of women in the corner, and I smile. I wasn’t lying before to Elliot, he really does very well in the hook-up department. He glances up,
sees me, and excuses himself.
“Hi.”
“Thank God you got rid of that fuckwit,” he whispers.
“Um . . .” I frown. “About that.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me.”
“We just need to talk.”
“With body fluid? Come on, Kate.”
“Stop it, I want to see where this goes.”
“Why?”
“Because he makes me forget who I am, Daniel, and when I’m with him, I’m not sad Kathryn any more. For the first time in years, I feel like my old self. I need you to be my friend and support me in this.”
“For God’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. “He’s a psycho.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “Are you okay if I go?”
“Fine,” he snaps. “Fuck off then.”
I smile.
He kisses me on the cheek. “Bye.”
“Are you sure?”
He widens his eyes. “Positive.”
“See you at home?”
“Yeah.” Daniel turns back to his conversation with the girls, fully distracted. I let out a sigh of relief and, with nerves swirling around in my stomach, I turn toward the door.
I walk out of the front door and look around, see the black Mercedes double-parked. I cross the road and go around to the passenger side, the lock clicks open, and I get in, and because of his close proximity my mood instantly changes from anxious to excited in two seconds flat. “Hi,” I whisper.
He stares over at me and the air crackles between us.
“You piss me off,” he says.
I smile softly. There’s the bossy man I know.
“And I’m not taking your crap, Elliot, don’t ask me to. It won’t fly with me.”
He goes to say something and I cut him off.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He grabs my face and pulls me to him; his tongue takes no prisoners as it swipes through my open lips. His grip is dominant and hot and . . . oh . . . “You pissed me off,” he repeats.
“What are you going to do about it,” I murmur against his lips.
His grip on my face tightens, his teeth graze my bottom lip. “You’ll see.” He pulls out into the traffic and revs the car hard as he takes off at speed. I look between him and the road as I swallow the lump in my throat.