by Tina Folsom
“What’s it to you?” a voice asked behind him.
Orion spun around and recognized the love god approaching.
“Zip it, Eros, or I’ll kick you off,” Orion warned. “This cloud is too small for the two of us. Don’t you agree?”
Eros looked first to the right, then to the left before he shook his head. “No, don’t think so. Looks plenty big to me.”
“What do you want?”
Eros smirked. “Same as you, keep an eye on Triton.”
Just keeping an eye on him wouldn’t be sufficient though—Orion had to change the direction the events were heading in right now before Triton reached his goal. There was no way Orion wanted to continue competing for the affections of the goddess Artemis. And he didn’t like the way she had looked at Triton during his sentencing.
“And you need to do that from the same cloud I’m on? Now if that’s not a coincidence,” Orion responded full of sarcasm. He knew Eros too well. The love god was not only one of Triton’s best friends, he was also full of mischief. There was a reason behind everything Eros did. If he was hanging out on the same cloud, there was a reason.
“So, what has our friend been up to?” Eros asked, his tone innocent.
Orion raised an eyebrow. “Our friend? Since when am I friends with my half-brother?”
“Just making sure you’re not here to help him.”
“What are you suggesting?” Orion narrowed his eyes.
“Just what I said.”
“If you remember Zeus’ words, you’ll recall that it isn’t against his edict to help Triton.”
“I’m only here to keep the balance so he’s got a fair shot. The odds are against him anyway. Hermes is taking bets left, right, and center. He’ll make a killing.”
Orion perused the love god and wondered how much of what Eros said could be believed. “And you, did you place a bet and now want to make sure your investment is safe?”
“Something like that,” Eros admitted. “However, I don’t like a sure thing. I live for the risk. It’s more of a kick.”
Orion laughed. “I hadn’t pegged you for a gambler. I thought Hermes and Dionysus were the gamblers among your gang, betting on who could bed more women, Triton or you.”
Eros chuckled softly. “In general, yes, but even I need a little break at times. Frankly, I’m a little behind on the count when it comes to Triton and me, so I’d like to catch up and take Triton out of commission, so to speak.”
Orion listened up. Eros wanted to disable Triton somehow? Was this a trick or did the love god really have a most egotistic agenda? “Go on.”
Eros stepped closer. “Well, I was thinking, if I could make Triton turn monogamous for a while, I’d have plenty of time to catch up in the race.”
“And how are you planning to do that? He can’t keep his dipstick to himself for a day before he dips it into another inkwell.”
Eros shook his head. “You do need to pick up some new expressions when it comes to the carnal arts. But anyway, what better way to turn him monogamous than to make him think he’s in love?”
“In love? Triton?” Now Orion really had to laugh. His half-brother only loved himself. There was no space in his heart for anybody else. His eyes started watering at the thought of Triton in love. It would surely be a sight to behold. “You’re too funny, Eros, just too funny.” Then Orion turned serious. He had work to do, namely to screw Triton over so he wouldn’t succeed with the woman and earn his way back to Olympus. “Now get off the cloud before I push you off.”
Eros held up his hands. “Hear me out.”
“Not interested.”
With a swift movement, Eros pulled his bow and arrow from his back, drew the bow back and pointed the arrow at Orion. “If you don’t want me to shoot you, you’d better listen to my idea.”
Orion growled. The annoying god was too agile. Sure, Orion could teleport away, but if he did, he was likely to be shot with one of Eros’ arrow next time he appeared somewhere. And those arrows weren’t fun. While as a god, he was immune to their effect, they did carry quite a sting. No, Eros’ arrows were no joke. They had to be taken seriously.
“I’m listening.”
“Here’s the deal. I’ll shoot Triton with one of my arrows so he falls in love with—”
“Hold it right there. Aren’t you forgetting one small detail? Triton is a god—he’s immune to your arrows.”
Eros grinned and shook his head. He lowered his bow. “And you seem to be forgetting that Zeus stripped him of all his godly powers, ergo, he’s not immune.”
Orion let the information sink in. He liked it. In fact, he liked it very much. “Go on.”
“He’ll fall in love with the woman, go all nuts over her, and make a fool of himself. He’ll turn into a doormat. Women hate that. And we both get what we want: I will catch up on my conquests and finally sail past Triton when it comes to our little competition of how many women we can seduce, and you’ll have free reign up here to pursue whoever you want without having to compete with him.”
While Orion liked the idea, it did have a flaw. “But when he does manage to come back and get his powers as a god back, the effects of your arrow will be gone. He won’t be in love anymore.”
Eros shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever. At least until then, we’ll have had our fun and gotten what we wanted. So, are you in?”
Orion cast a suspicious look at Eros. Something still wasn’t right. “Why do you need me for it? Why not just shoot him with the arrow without telling me?”
“Ah, here’s my little dilemma. I can’t actually shoot the arrow myself. Unfortunately, dear Zeus has thought of everything and bridled me from shooting any arrows while—”
“You mean, you were aiming your arrow at me and couldn’t actually shoot?” Orion snapped.
One side of Eros’s mouth curled up. “It’s called bluffing.”
“I should kick you off the cloud just for that.”
“But you won’t.”
Orion smiled and stretched out his hand. “So, does it work just like any hunting bow?” He knew how to handle bow and arrow. As an experienced hunter, he was also particularly accurate. “Where shall I shoot him?”
Eros grinned. “Considering he won’t even feel the arrow, take your pick. I know what I would aim at.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sophia let her hand run over the tiles for a second time. The sandstone felt rough under her fingers. She lifted herself from her crouching position and turned to the bathroom door.
“Charlie? I need to speak to you,” she called out into the hallway.
A few moments later, she heard footsteps, and the contractor appeared before her.
“What’s up?” he asked, his voice cheerful. That would change in a few minutes when she told him about her observations.
Sophia pointed at the tile wall behind her. “That’s what’s up. The tiles.”
“Yeah, we finished it this morning while you were out. Looks good, right?”
“It might look good, not that I can tell, but it doesn’t feel good,” she explained.
“What do you mean?” Already, she could sense defensiveness creep into his voice.
“The tiles aren’t smooth. Those aren’t the ones I ordered.”
“Of course they are the ones you picked out. I was there with you. You just don’t remember,” Charlie protested.
“The tiles I picked out were smooth on the surface. These feel rough and bumpy,” Sophia insisted. She was positive that the tiles currently adorning the new guest bath weren’t the ones she’d ordered. Even if she couldn’t see what they looked like, she could feel that the quality was inferior.
Charlie pushed past her toward the tile wall. “I don’t know what you mean. They feel smooth to me. There’s nothing wrong with those tiles.”
Sophia felt her anger rise. The contractor was trying to take advantage of her situation. “I might be blind, but I can feel it,” she answered, trying to keep her voice from
cracking.
“What’s going on?” Triton’s voice came from behind her.
She turned, a sigh of relief on her lips. “Charlie used the wrong tiles for the bathroom.”
“Did not!” Charlie shot back instantly.
“How do you know, Sophia? What do the correct ones look like?” Triton asked, his voice calm and collected. Did he not believe her either?
Sophia let out a frustrated huff. “It’s not what they look like, it’s how they feel. Touch them. They're rough. The ones I picked out were smooth.”
Triton squeezed past her, his body heat almost singeing her before he walked to the wall and laid his hand on it. A moment later he turned. “I see what you mean.”
“Thanks.”
“Those were the ones she picked out. It’s not my fault that she doesn’t like them now,” Charlie protested.
“Those aren’t the ones I wanted. I paid good money for those tiles. This,” she pointed at the wall, “is inferior quality. That’s not what I paid for.”
“It’s what you ordered and paid for.” Charlie remained insistent.
“Hold it,” Triton interrupted. “I’m sure we can get to the bottom of this. Do you have a paper that says what you ordered?”
“Of course, I do,” the contractor responded.
“Well, let’s have a look at it.”
Sophia stood to the side as Charlie charged out of the bathroom and stomped down the hall.
“Sophia?” Triton asked. “You do remember what you ordered, right?”
She planted her hands at her waist. “Of course, I do.”
A second later, she felt his hand on her arm. “I’m not the enemy.”
Her shoulders relaxed. She’d been unfair to him and treated him the same way she treated Charlie—with suspicion. Triton didn’t deserve it. But before she could say anything, he continued, “Does the tile have something to identify it with?”
Sophia nodded. “It was called Roman Bath, and the name is stamped on the back of it.”
“Good. Let’s have a look at what he ordered. I’m sure we’ll sort it out.”
“Thank you. I feel so helpless not being able to take care of these things myself. I know I didn’t hire you for that but—”
His hand stroked over her arm. “I don’t care what you originally hired me for. I’ll do what needs to be done. I can be your eyes, and if that means sorting out the contractor then that’s what I’ll do. Unless you think that’s overstepping my authority?”
She instantly shook her head. “No. Of course not. I’m very grateful that you don’t mind doing this.” His hand was still on her arm. Had he forgotten about the fact that he was still touching her? Should she pull her arm away?
During their walk on the beach, his arm had been a comfort to her, not only preventing her from tripping over driftwood and seaweed, but also lending her strength. In fact, the entire walk had renewed her strength and confidence in her ability to succeed with the Bed and Breakfast. Talking to a stranger about the challenges that she was facing had helped clear her head.
And even now as she felt the warmth of his fingers seep into her skin, she didn’t want to shake off this feeling. There was nothing wrong with enjoying his touch in secret—he would never need to find out. If he knew the sensations his hand sent through her body, the tingling that raced over her skin, and the heat it created in her belly, he’d probably stop touching her.
“You okay?” Triton asked.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Had she been showing any signs of how his touch affected her? Was her face flushed? Her heartbeat erratic? Her breathing uneven? Probably all of it, but she couldn’t let him know that he was the one who did this to her. “I’m just annoyed about Charlie.”
He seemed to buy her excuse. “Don’t worry. We’ll sort it out.”
***
Triton continued to stroke her arm and applauded his luck. Sophia was in such an agitated state over the contractor that she probably didn’t even notice that he was still touching her. He knew he should stop his clandestine action, but the reward was just too sweet.
Ever since the walk on the beach he felt drawn to her even more than before and had used every single occasion that presented itself to get close to her. He wasn’t about to stop now.
If she wanted him to play the hero for her, he could do that. He could solve those little problems that catapulted her into a stressed out mess. And then he’d reap the rewards. Soon, the grateful little chick would melt into his waiting arms and pant for him.
Take that, Zeus!
The heavy footsteps of the contractor approaching from the hallway made him snap out of his daydreams. Daydreams? What in Hades was happening to him? He wasn’t one to daydream.
“Here you go,” Charlie announced, thrusting a piece of paper into Triton’s hands. “That’s the order we put in.”
Triton looked at the sheet and scanned it. It wasn’t what he’d expected, and he didn’t like the idea that he was the one to give Sophia the news. He cleared his throat. “The tiles ordered are called Roman Bath.”
Sophia’s shock was evident. “That can’t be. This isn’t Roman Bath. Those aren’t the tiles I ordered.”
“They are,” Charlie said exasperated. He ran his hand though his tousled hair. “I don’t know what else to show you.”
“I’m not crazy!” Sophia protested.
“I’m not saying you are,” Charlie pushed back.
“Those are not my tiles.”
Triton looked back at the piece of paper, noticing a smudge next to the description of the tile. He held it up against the light. Something had been rubbed out. He caught Charlie glancing at him. “Have you used all the tiles already?”
Charlie shook his head. “No, there are plenty more for the other bathrooms.”
“Bring me one,” Triton ordered.
“What for?” Charlie’s reluctance at complying with his request fuelled Triton’s suspicion.
“Because I said so.”
“You’re not the boss.”
Sophia’s sharp voice interrupted them. “No, but I am. Bring me one of the tiles.”
“Fine,” Charlie grumbled and turned back to the hallway, only to return a few seconds later. He handed Sophia the tile. She touched it, smoothing her hands over one side. Triton imagined those fingers touching his skin in the same longing way she touched the tile.
“That’s the same as the ones on the wall. It’s not the quality I ordered.”
Before Charlie could open his mouth, Triton held up his hand. “May I?” He took the tile from Sophia’s hands and turned it to look at the back.
Then he smiled. “It says Roman Bath all right, but would you mind reading this stamp for me?” Triton held the tile out for Charlie to see.
The contractor’s face instantly turned red, and he pressed his lips together.
“I’ll read it myself then,” Triton answered. “It says Seconds.”
Sophia sighed with relief. “I knew it. I could feel it.”
“Yes, you were right,” Triton said and looked back at Charlie. “Do you have anything to say, Charlie?”
“You’re not accusing me of doing that? It’s obvious that the company sent us inferior goods. That’s not my fault. I ordered the right stuff.”
Triton shoved the order form back into Charlie’s hands and pointed at the smudge on it. There was no need letting Sophia know that Charlie had tried to cheat her. She had enough stress as it was. “I think you know what to do. Take the wrong tiles down and get the right ones. And you’d better not be charging Miss Baker for the extra labor. Do we understand each other?”
Triton tapped his finger onto the smudge to make his position clear. If Charlie refused he’d make sure the man wouldn’t work anywhere ever again.
“Yes,” Charlie pressed out through a clenched jaw and bolted from the room.
“Wow, thanks,” Sophia said. “I expected him to make a big fuss about it since it was the supplier’s fault.”
Triton considered briefly whether to tell her the truth but decided against it. There was no need to worry her any further. From now on, he’d keep an eye on the man. If he tried to get away with replacing the originally ordered materials with cheaper ones, he wasn’t to be trusted.
“He should have checked that he got the right tiles in the first place. It’s his responsibility, isn’t it?”
“You’re right. Well, at least that’s taken care of. I’d better check on the rest.”
As she made an attempt to get out of the cramped quarters of the bathroom, he blocked her exit. “Why don’t you take a break, and I’ll prepare you something to eat? You must be hungry from our walk on the beach.”
At his words, her cheeks colored a beautiful shade of pink. He restrained himself from kissing those pink cheeks all the way down to her graceful neck. Of course, he wouldn’t stop there—he’d continue right down to her inviting breasts and those hard little nipples he noticed pressing through her t-shirt.
Sophia had changed into jeans and a t-shirt after they’d gotten back to the house. And she hadn’t requested his help for it, much to Triton’s disappointment.
“Food?” she asked. “Actually, that would be great.”
Ten minutes later, Triton had put together what he could find in the nearly empty refrigerator and the bare shelves in the kitchen. He would have to do some shopping later. How easy it would be if he could use his powers and have everything delivered by the servants of the gods.
Triton balanced the tray, careful not to spill the red wine he’d poured. No meal was complete without a decent glass of wine. At least not for him. While many of the gods preferred the sweet essence of ambrosia, Triton preferred the tartness of red wine the way mortals cultivated it. Maybe because he spent so much time in the company of Dionysus, who couldn’t go a waking hour without a good drink, Triton was accustomed to wine rather than ambrosia complementing his meals.
The dining room was still without furniture, so he’d asked Sophia to wait for him in the living room. When he entered the large room, she sat on the oversized sofa, her legs tucked under her, her eyes closed. Triton paused for a moment to look at her. He’d never seen anything lovelier in his entire life.