That made sense and helped to put me at ease.
“Then why tell me?”
His smile was going to give me a heart attack. “Because you already knew it was here. Besides, this place could use a woman’s touch.” The look in his eyes gave away something, I was sure of it. Although I wasn’t quite sure what it gave away. “That is if I’m not imposing. I saw you coming out of your shop the other day and figured out you were a decorator. If this place is ever going to look decent, I’m afraid I’ll need some help.” When I didn’t immediately respond he asked, “Are you up for it?”
“Sure.”
“And you’re positive that your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
That sounded desperate. I could have kicked myself.
Eramus raised a brow. “Then who was the man I saw leaving your house this morning?” He immediately corrected himself. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“It’s all right. That was my friend Ozzy. We’re close, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Good. Then if you have no objections, could you help me decide where the hell to put these roses?”
After about thirty minutes I had it all laid out. Roses would ring the large square above his shelter. Shorter shrub roses were near the middle with climbers along the sides, which I informed him would need trellises. Most of the roses were already two or more years old. This would make the garden look fairly well established once he got them all in the ground. I got the impression that Eramus wanted to look like he’d been here for a while.
At his insistence, he did all the work. So, while he moved the roses to my specifications I talked.
“How did you build the shelter so fast?”
“It’s a pre-made insert. I had it put down early this morning.”
Well, that would explain the machinery I’d heard.
“The door is right over here,” he said, walking to stand over the only piece of ground not covered by sod. “I’m thinking of putting a bench over it.”
“It would be better hidden if you put a planter with some of the smaller roses on top of it. No one thinks to look under flower pots unless they’re looking for a key.”
He smiled. “See, I knew you were the person to ask about this.”
What was I doing? What was it exactly that I was helping this stranger to hide? He seemed sincere enough. Was he really hiding valuables?
“My friends and I are having a barbeque this afternoon. You’re welcome to join us. I mean, if you don’t you’ll just have to be over here smelling it all.”
He laughed and I realized I was really starting to enjoy the sound.
“That sounds nice. Should I bring anything?”
“Just yourself.” I could feel my face burning again. My voice had taken on a husky quality and the thought of him showing up in nothing at all was making my heart go crazy again.
“I should probably put on a shirt then,” he teased.
“Don’t bother on my account.”
I was flirting shamelessly. I had never been shy, but I normally wasn’t so forward either. But Eramus didn’t seem to mind. He was pretty forward himself and I liked that quality in a man.
His grin was the reward for my boldness.
“We’ll start cooking in a few hours, but you can come over whenever you’d like. As a matter of fact, I should probably go attempt to fix my hair.”
“It’s beautiful,” he said. His voice melted me like a candle thrown into a bonfire. “Is it natural?”
It was a question I’d heard often enough. Not many people had naturally “flaming” red hair. But Eramus’ question was different somehow. The look in his eyes said he wasn’t asking if my hair color came from a box, but what color decorated mine.
“Yes.”
Breathless is the best way to describe how I sounded. But he didn’t appear to notice or didn’t care. Perhaps he knew the effect he had on me and was enjoying the show. Either way his smile did not waver and neither did the look in his eyes.
I took a deep breath to try to calm myself, but instead I breathed in his scent and my libido kicked into overdrive.
“What cologne are you wearing?”
“I’m not,” he said.
“Come on, no one works up a sweat and smells that good without cologne.”
Eramus put his hands on his hips and I admired the way his forearms flexed just right. He was perfect. Not in the traditional sense of the word, without flaws. But rather it was his flaws that made him perfect. For example, the fine laugh lines at the corners of his mouth didn’t make him look old, they gave him character. The fact that his hair wasn’t fixed and still looked sexy also added to his appeal. And man, did he ever smell good!
“Well, apparently I do,” he teased.
“I’ll see you in a little while then.”
He didn’t say goodbye, but nodded his acceptance of my words.
I managed to walk calmly back to my house, didn’t trip on my way up the steps and didn’t look back even though I could feel him watching me. The minute I closed the door I collapsed against it.
“Holy shit.”
I immediately called Justina and gave her all the details. She was down at the store with our new employee, Mandy. We had yet to leave her to run the place on her own, but planned to do so today.
“How is everything going?” I asked.
“Fine. I really think Mandy can do this on her own now. Listen, I’ve got the stuff to make either potato salad or mashed potatoes. Which do you want?”
“Um, either one is fine.”
She laughed. “What are you doing?”
“What makes you think I’m doing something?”
“Because you sound excited and I know it’s not about potatoes. Are you watching your neighbor again?”
I practically squealed. “No, I invited him to our barbeque.”
“What? Is he coming?”
“Yes.”
“Well now that you’ve met him, what’s his name? I’m getting tired of coming up with things to call him.”
“His name is Eramus.”
Chapter Eight
Circle of friends
“He said the place needs a woman’s touch?” Justina asked. “That’s something an old lady says when she wants her son to get married.”
She laughed as I scolded her mildly. “You butthole, he meant he needed help decorating. It wasn’t like that at all.”
“Still, it’s not something I’d expect a man to say.” She paused. “Then again, I’m impressed when they get beyond ‘duh’ sometimes.”
I laughed then. “Well, you do tend to be attracted to conversationalists.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Yep. I think it’s nice for a man to actually want help decorating.”
We went on to talk about what ingredients we still needed for the cookout and other various things before returning to the subject of Eramus.
“Why do you suppose it’s so important to him?” Justina asked.
“Potato salad?”
“No, I mean why do you think Eramus wants the place to look so…established? It sounds to me like he wants to look like he’s been there for a while.”
She was right. “You noticed that too, huh? Maybe he’s just eager to have a new start. He did say that his last home was destroyed by storms or it could be obsessive-compulsive disorder.”
I could hear her jingling her keys and knew she was getting ready to leave the shop. Justina had a routine. Put her keys down immediately when she got to work, never in the same place. Then spend thirty minutes bitching about not being able to find her keys before leaving. Since she’d been talking to me for almost that long I guess she decided to skip the bitching today.
“OCD, huh? You mean like you get when everything is not in its place?”
“Exactly. Maybe he just wants it all done so that he can relax.”
“That could be.”
We wrapped up
our conversation with me telling her again how much better the view was up close rather than over the fence. I went upstairs and took a look in the mirror. Eramus was right about my hair, it really wasn’t that bad. I’d fallen asleep with it wet and it was hanging in a million curls down to the middle of my back. I decided to skip the hair and go straight to makeup, putting on a little powder and some black eyeliner. There, all ready for company.
Since Eramus had done all of the work with the roses, I didn’t need to change clothes either. I was thinking of sitting down with a good book for a few minutes when my doorbell rang.
“Who is it?” I called on my way down the stairs.
“Hurry up, these peanuts are heavy.”
“You’re early,” I said, opening the door for Chase.
He walked through to my kitchen and set down several heavy-looking bags before checking his watch.
“No I’m not.”
He strutted over to the french doors and gazed unabashedly toward the house next door.
“Where’s Mr. Universe?”
I smiled. “If he’s not outside, he must be getting ready to come over here.”
“Oh, so you did work up the nerve to talk to him. There’s my girl.” He patted me on the shoulder as he spoke, but never turned his attention away from the house beside mine. “The roses are pretty, but I was hoping for a man in tight-fitting jeans.”
“How about you help me make this punch?”
Chase continued to watch the window, but did spare an occasional glance to see what I was doing.
“Could you look in that cabinet and hand me down the molds you find there?”
Watching him try to maneuver through my overstuffed cabinets and still look out the window was hilarious. He snagged his hair on the door knob when he turned too fast, but tried to quickly hide this by running a hand through his brown locks. Chase batted his eyes, a nervous habit I hadn’t seen in a while, and handed me the metal pans I’d asked for.
“All I can find is this lobster and a couple of stars.”
I filled the molds with water and set them into the freezer compartment.
“You’re going to use a lobster mold?”
“Why not? We’ll need something to keep the punch cold and it’s the biggest one I have.”
“You could just fill it up with little stars.”
I shrugged. “Takes too long to freeze. Besides, I think putting a lobster in there is pretty damn funny.”
We mixed the rest of the ingredients and set them in the fridge to chill. Chase had also brought a rack of ribs that I started to season. While he was still distracted looking for Eramus, I made my famous barbecue sauce. By the time he noticed me again I was preheating the oven and slathering the ribs with the thick, sweet mixture.
“You bitch,” he said, but his heart wasn’t in it. After another minute or two he shrugged and turned away from the window. “Fuck it. Is the pot out back?”
“Uh, no. It’s under the sink. I meant to get it out earlier, but I was distracted.”
I told him about helping decide where to plant the rose garden. Of course, I left out the part about the shelter. Eramus had only told me because I already knew a hole was there. I planned to tell Ozzy, just because I knew he would ask. Knowing what it was for should put him at ease, or so I thought.
“So, he was just digging a garden? Justina made it sound like a pit.”
“That’s what I thought, but we couldn’t actually see over the fence. It’s really pretty over there. He’s put down some new sod and everything.”
“Humph.” With that Chase picked up the bag of peanuts and I followed him with the pot. After helping him set everything up over the fire pit, I returned to get salt and found myself staring out the window just like he had. Only I had better luck.
Eramus stepped out the back door of his house and my heart felt like it might burst. He was wearing another pair of jeans and a white, tunic-style shirt that hung open enough to reveal a bit of his chest. And here I was expecting a t-shirt. I was very pleasantly surprised.
When I walked out back to hand the salt to Chase he was standing there open-mouthed. Eramus opened the gate that separated us and came strolling through like something out of a dream. The way I felt when I looked at him was impossible. I say that because we had just met. Until a few hours ago I didn’t even know his name. I was still in love with James. And yet…something within me stirred as I watched him move and it was much more than desire. As he came to stand in front of me and ran a hand through his still damp hair I understood something—I hungered for him.
“Glad you could make it,” I said, unable to wipe the smile from my face.
He nodded in my direction and extended his hand toward Chase. When he moved, his scent drifted toward me and I nearly started foaming at the mouth. I don’t care what he said. He must be wearing something. Cologne laced with pheromones, maybe? Did they make stuff like that?
“Eramus Creed,” he said.
His voice was like warm honey and I noticed Chase shiver before replying, “Chase Ramsey,” and shaking his hand.
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” Eramus asked.
It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. “Um, no. Everything is taken care of for the moment. You could come with me to put the ribs in the oven if you want to.”
His smile kept doing things to me that I didn’t think a simple facial expression should. A smile really was a simple thing. But not his. His lips parted just enough to show his teeth, causing the corners of his mouth to twitch just enough to make the cutest little crease in his cheek. And the way the emotion was clearly visible in his eyes…well, it made me want to smile too. In fact, I couldn’t stop.
He paused at the door and I turned back to take his hand.
“Come on.”
A feeling passed over me when he stepped across the threshold. It was strange and something I really can’t put into words. It wasn’t exactly a bad feeling, but a chill of sorts. Almost like a shiver of excitement.
Instantly I thought about the rumor that a vampire has to be invited before they can enter someone’s home. Eramus wasn’t a vampire. He had too nice of a tan. Besides, I saw him out in the sun all the time. I scolded myself for having such thoughts in the first place. Anyhow, vampires were supposed to be cold. His hand was warm to the touch and as I continued to lead him toward my kitchen I tried not to think bad thoughts.
Still, I had the impression that I’d just invited the big bad wolf over for dinner and from the smile he continued to wear, I might be on the menu.
I released his hand and checked to be sure the oven was ready.
“Here, let me. That looks heavy.” Eramus moved to set the ribs in the oven as he said, “I wanted to thank you again for your help with the garden. I really appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem. I like gardening.”
“Maybe in a little while it will match the other side.”
I was confused. “What’s on the other side?”
The blast of hot air from the oven seemed to make his scent even stronger. I remembered on nature shows how they talked about animals being drawn by the scent of the opposite sex. Surely that crap didn’t apply to people. Isn’t that why we use perfume, because we don’t have our own naturally alluring scent?
“You mean you haven’t seen it?”
I shook my head.
“This great big rose climbing up the side of the house. It’s beautiful.”
Now I remembered. “Oh, yeah. I forgot all about it. I never come home that direction, so I haven’t noticed it in ages. It’s that big now, huh? I can’t believe it grew so much without anyone taking care of it.”
When he closed the oven and stood back up, Eramus was so close to me that our bodies almost touched. I was dead even with the middle of his chest, right where his shirt parted, revealing just enough skin to make my mouth water. He touched my shoulder lightly and I wanted more. I wanted to lean into him, to press as much of my bo
dy against his as possible.
“Are you all right?”
He was so close now that his breath caused my bangs to move against my forehead. Was I moving closer or was he?
“You smell really good.”
Before he could reply there was a loud crash and what sounded like someone running across the front porch.
“Motherfucker!”
“That would be Justina,” I said.
I’m not sure what would have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted or why I wanted so much to touch him. It wasn’t like I was sex starved. Ozzy had helped me take care of that problem. I would say it was magic, only I wasn’t certain. I believed that magic was real. Witches and wizards did exist, or so I’d heard. Like everything else that went bump in the night, I had never personally met one. Even if that was the case, why would anyone waste a spell on me?
Eramus seemed unfazed by the interruption. He motioned toward the door as he said, “Sounds like your friend could use some help.”
We opened the door to find Justina chasing potatoes across the porch and down the steps. Apparently the large bag she was holding had ripped just as she reached the door.
“Well, that would explain the noise,” Eramus said.
From the look on her face she had a scathing comment at the ready, but her sarcasm was no match for his smile.
We started helping her retrieve the potatoes while he said, “I’m Eramus by the way, Lucy’s new neighbor.”
Justina paused and brushed back her long dark hair. She was wearing an orange tank top this time that contrasted well with her black coat and matched her nail polish.
“I’m Justina, the moron who yells ‘motherfucker’ as loud as possible before I meet new people.”
She rolled her eyes jokingly and we all laughed.
“I’m not easily offended,” he assured her.
She opened the paper bag she was carrying and as we dumped the potatoes inside said, “Good. You’ll fit right in around here.”
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