In the quiet of his new room the only thoughts in Noel’s mind were of the two things causing him the most trouble which was Shellie and his new job. Unfortunately those two things, at this moment, were closely related and succeeding at one may cost him the other. He wanted Shellie, really wanted her badly, but she would never go for him as long as he was threatening the survival of her town, at least as she saw it. He had to figure out a way for her to get to know him as he really was, rather than how she perceived him. When she looked at him the only thing she saw were expensive suits and high paying job, but he was much more and he had to let her see him that way.
An idea was slowly coming to him but he was interrupted when he thought he heard his name being called. Noel muted the television and shot up in the bed with his eyes closed to enhance his ability to hear waiting for more sounds of distress. It occurred to him that maybe those trespassing protestors had returned to the scene of the crime and his thoughts immediately turned to protecting Shellie. Hearing no further noise he slid back down between the sheets and closed his eyes when he heard water splashing violently in the bathroom. The sound of Shellie in distress caused him to sit up and jump from his bed in one quick motion. He opened the door and ran the few steps to the bathroom where the water was still splashing wildly on the other side of the door. He turned the knob and found Shellie thrashing underneath a layer of bubbles, shouting his name in pleasure as she neared climax.
##
“What are you doing in here?”
“I –I thought you were in trouble. I heard you calling my name.” He stammered, unsure what to say.
“Well I wasn’t,” she huffed and crossed her hands over her chest.
“Look Shellie I heard you,” he pointed at her, “call my name and then I heard water splashing. What was I supposed to think?”
“That I was having a bath?” Her face flushed looking at his solid and very naked form and realizing she’d been caught not just fantasizing about him but masturbating to fantasies of him. She was sure her face and neck was a radioactive shade of red.
Noel leaned against the door frame, keeping an eye on the bubbles that were starting to disappear from her body. “And calling my name is part of your bath time?”
She wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face. “What did you think Noel, that you’d swoop in here butt naked and I’d beg you to slide in here with me?”
Noel looked down, noticing for the first time that he was totally and completely naked just feet from where she sat also naked in the bath. He reached around the door, feeling for his robe. “Uh, I was asleep and I don’t have any pajamas at the moment.” His face reddened and he failed to meet her eyes.
“Hmph,” she rolled her eyes. “Likely story.”
“You really think I’d charge into your bathroom naked and what, expect you to sleep with me?” He shook his head in disbelief, sadness entering his eyes.
“Honestly Noel I don’t know what to think.”
“Is that really what you think of me?”
She could see the smile in his eyes replaced by hurt and instantly regretted her words. “It’s not that, but what should I think when a naked man barges in on me in the middle of my bath?”
“Barged!” He yelled, “I barged in on you? I thought you fell or were injured and I was coming to check on you!”
“And you had to do it without any clothes on,” she still stared and she was still angry with him but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his perfect body.
“In case you’ve forgotten Shellie, your friends ransacked my apartment and shredded all my clothes.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ll remember that the next time you’re in distress.”
She nodded, acknowledging some truth in his words. “Fine but couldn’t you have at least knocked?”
He straightened his frame and stared at her intensely. “Well if I had known that I was part of your nightly, uh, ritual,” he emphasized with an arrogant smirk, “I wouldn’t have disturbed you. Believe me.” He laughed to himself, now knowing that he invaded her thoughts as much as she his. Maybe more.
“You are not part of my anything!” She shouted, more for her own benefit than his.
“If you say so Shellie,” he smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. “But, since you obviously don’t need me, I’ll let you finish…whatever it is you were doing.” He smiled down at her, this time with amusement. “I’m off to bed. See you in the morning,” he called over his shoulder, “roomie”.
When she heard the door click, Shellie sank under the water for a few moments to gain her composure. After several seconds she emerged from the water and ran one hand over her hair to smooth it from her eyes. When she was sure Noel was safely in his room, far away from her, she stood and stepped from the tub. Reaching for her yellow bath towel Shellie stopped when she realized where her towel had gone. “Noel!” She screamed and quickly covered her mouth in case he thought to stage another naked rescue in her bathroom.
“You’re on your own this time,” she heard him yell through his door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After a long and embarrassing night Shellie pulled herself from the comfort of her bed, tossing her sleep mask aside and blindly reaching for a nightgown to slip on. She found one, threw it over her head and pulled it down over her hips before shuffling from her dark bedroom into the bright sunlight she noticed peeking underneath her door. Stumbling to the bathroom, she threw some water on her face and brushed her teeth and finally made her way into the kitchen.
She loved Saturday mornings. They were her favorite part of the week. Every Saturday she woke up and made herself a big breakfast and enjoyed it in her pajamas the same way she used to when her grandmother was still alive. When her life wasn’t easy or happy, Shellie could rely on her grandmother to make things better with a big spread fit for a large family. Even though it was just Shellie and her grandparents, until her grandfather succumbed to cancer a few years after she moved in, then it was just her and Granny every Saturday morning. When she was old enough, just thirteen, she began helping in the kitchen and learning all her grandmother’s culinary secrets.
This morning she needed the comfort of a big breakfast more than ever and she knew just what to make. The first thing she needed was a big pot of coffee. She placed the beans in the black and silver grinder and spun until the smell of ground beans permeated the entire kitchen and dumped them into an unbleached coffee filter and poured in a full pot of water. She hit start and scanned the kitchen to plan her breakfast perfectly. She pulled the waffle iron from underneath the island and plugged it into the socket next to the sink. Next, she pulled out eggs, potatoes, onions, butter and a red bell pepper from the fridge and sat them on the large bamboo cutting board.
With two large cast iron skillet heating up on the stove, Shellie turned to the island and began peeling and chopping until everything was peeled, sliced or diced in a pile on the cutting board. She cut two squares of butter and placed one in each skillet, before turning on the oven. She placed several slices of thick cut bacon on a baking sheet and stopped for a moment, realizing this was the first time in weeks that she hadn’t thought about Noel, KitchenMart or any of the other thoughts that kept her from living the zen life she wanted. Cooking had always relaxed her, which she thought, was probably why there was so much of her these days. She quickly pushed that thought aside, reminding herself that the new colorless Shellie had confidence that the old insecure Shellie did not.
The sound of sizzling butter brought her out of her thoughts and back to breakfast. She poured the onions, potatoes and peppers into the large skillet and sprinkled them with salt and pepper before giving them a quick stir and sliding the bacon into the oven. “Now the waffles,” she said aloud as she gathered the ingredients into a large mixing bowl. After adding a spoon of honey and a handful of chopped pecans to the batter, she placed the bowl next to the now steaming waffle iron.
With her big Saturday morning breakfast just about co
mplete, Shellie cracked a few eggs into the smaller skillet and listened as they sizzled. It was one of her favorite sounds, remembering how her Granny used to say “If there’s no sizzle, there’s no dazzle.” She still didn’t know what it meant, but she always listened for the sizzle when she made her famous fried eggs. Seasoning them with her special blend of spices, she grabbed a coffee cup and poured while she waited for them to cook.
The warmth of the coffee cup in her hands soothed Shellie, even though she didn’t think she needed soothing right now. She was more relaxed than she had been in quite some time, and she knew that the new and improved Shellie would be able to handle Noel. There was no reason they couldn’t act like civilized adults while they lived under the same roof. As long as she could forget what could’ve been between them and remember who he was life would be easy, if a little uncomfortable.
Her big breakfast was done and she looked over the spread on her kitchen table with pride, knowing her Granny would be so proud of the woman she was slowly becoming. She always encouraged Shellie to be the unique individual that she was, telling her often “if the Lord wanted us to be the same, he would’ve made us that way.” The thought always brought a smile to her face, even if she knew her grandmother was just being kind. For much of her life being unique felt like a punishment or a curse. Being unique had gotten her laughed at and mocked in high school, shunned by her college business classmates in pearls, sweater sets and ties, and seen as a free loving slut in her adult life. Now it was time to grow up and blend in rather than standing out. I tried standing out and it got me nowhere, she thought as she blew on her coffee to cool it, now I’m going for forgettable. Completely and utterly forgettable. Unremarkable.
She looked down at the short pink nightie she was wearing, and groaned. “Baby steps,” she muttered.
##
Noel stirred from his sleep, stretching his limbs across the large bed. He stopped and looked around, forgetting for a moment where he was until he looked up at the tiny television that had watched him sleep all night. “Shellie’s,” he remembered as all of the day’s events came crashing back to him. He swung his legs around the bed until his feet were firmly planted on the plush carpet as the aroma of fresh coffee and bacon wafted in. It had been a long time since anyone made him breakfast other than his sister, and even that was special occasions like Thanksgiving and Christmas.
He stood up and stretched his long body, feeling well rested after a hard week. Flipping off the television and turning the light on, he scanned the room looking for something to wear. He didn’t think Shellie would appreciate him arriving naked at the breakfast table, although judging by the looks she gave him last night he thought she just might. But it was early and he didn’t want to begin the weekend with a fight, especially after she made what smelled to him like a wonderful morning feast.
So he found a pair of green and white striped boxer briefs and pulled them up over his hips, slid on his slippers and made his way to the bathroom.
A few moments later Noel stood on the other side of the kitchen door, listening, trying to gauge Shellie’s mood this morning. She had to be in a good mood, he thought, since she got up early and made what smelled like a lot of food. Taking in one long breath, holding it and releasing it slowly he hesitantly nudged the door open where he caught a glimpse of Shellie looking more beautiful than she should at this hour.
He stood there taking in her disheveled curly hair and that barely there pink nightgown she was prancing around in that showcased her muscular legs. She seemed so relaxed, as though she hadn’t a care in the world and he soaked it in knowing that his presence would cause her to stiffen and put her walls back up.
“Smells great in here,” he said to warn her of his presence.
She kept her back to him, gathering plates and silverware. “Thanks.”
He turned his attention to the table and enough food there to feed all of Mustang Prairie. “Are we expecting company?” He asked with a smile on his face.
She could hear the smile is his voice and thought for a second, she liked this Noel. “Nope, it’s just us. Saturday breakfast was a ritual with me and my Granny. She would get up early, as old people tend to do, and make this huge spread with pancakes, bacon, eggs, hash browns or home fries, sausages, two or three types of syrup, fresh fruit, orange and apple juice—sometimes peach if it was the right time of year.” She shrugged, “I guess I kind of kept it going even though it’s just me these days.”
She sounded wistful and he fought the urge to go to her and wrap her in his arms and tell her that he would protect her and eat her delicious breakfast every Saturday morning, knowing that she would fight it as much as she needed it. “Well no one but my sister has ever cooked me breakfast so I’m eternally grateful.”
“Milk or cream,” she asked, choosing to ignore the last comment. It was one thing for him to be that good looking—beautiful actually—but to be beautiful, basically naked and kind and understanding was too much. She didn’t have the will to resist his kindness.
“Cream, thanks.”
Shellie had an armful of plates, silverware and two carafes in her hands when she spun around. “Coffee is over there,” she motioned to the sleek red coffee maker in the corner with her head, “but everything else is…” She stopped mid-sentence when her eyes finally, reluctantly, landed on Noel in nothing but underwear gripping his body tightly in all the right places. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes stuck to his perfectly tanned and perfectly toned chest and stomach. She had always been a great admirer of a strong chest and great abs. Not ridiculous MTV star abs, but just enough to see the definition created by hard work, not obsession. And his upper torso was a thing of beauty. He was so beautiful Shellie wished she still sculpted just to give her a reason to gently caress him with her hands. Or other things if they were different people and in a different place.
He met her half way and took the carafes of orange and apple juice from her hand. “Let me help you with that,” he smiled down at her while she stared blankly.
“Thanks,” was all she could muster for several moments. Then, “coffee is on the counter and everything else you need is here.” She smiled weakly motioning to the table.
He blushed at her shock, or what he hoped was shock. He explained right away, “I didn’t have anything else to wear and I didn’t want to put my grubby work clothes back on,” he said as an explanation.
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Saturday morning breakfast is a pajamas only event, and since I know you didn’t sleep in those,” she nodded towards his underwear, “I’m grateful.”
He could see this time her smile was sincere, and unbelievably, his face flushed again. But he recovered quickly, “I think it’ll be awhile before we enjoy a naked breakfast together.” He gave a bright smile that highlighted his dimples and playful green eyes.
It was her turn this time to redden.
##
Noel sat in the chair directly across from Shellie, the one he knocked over during their brief moment of ecstasy, and watched as she piled her plate with a little bit of everything. He was amazed how, after cooking this big breakfast with fresh squeezed juice, she could look in wonder at all the different dishes as though it was her first time seeing them. He also didn’t mind the quick view of cleavage he got when she popped up and reached across the table for a slice of bacon or a spoonful of home fries. A smile spread across his face as he watched her, never seeing a woman so delighted and comfortable to dig into a real meal without worrying about calories or carbs or photo shoots.
She looked up and caught him smiling at her and blushed. “I’m sorry. I’m hogging everything aren’t I?”
He shook his head, still smiling. “No, you’re perfect.”
“I just really enjoy Saturday mornings. It’s my solace, my time to relax, you know?”
“It’s just a joy to watch a woman enjoy her food instead of war with it.”
“At war with food?” She regretted the questio
n before she even finished asking it. Of course he’s used to dating models and actresses who have to look flawless at all times. Suddenly Shellie felt very naked and very unappealing.
“You know, counting calories and carbs, and eating like a bird.”
She lowered her head, “I probably should be warring with it then, I need it. But on Saturday mornings I don’t worry about any of that. I just relax, I cook and I enjoy.” She smiled sheepishly, suddenly feeling the old Shellie rear her insecure head.
Noel shook his head at her. “I don’t think you have a thing to worry about. That gown looks incredible on you. It’s damned sexy and I can’t take my eyes off you.” He bit into a slice of bacon, never taking his eyes off her.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I know.”
She looked up at him to see if he was mocking her, and he didn’t seem to be. Still it was one thing to want to have sex with someone but it was quite another to want them in the morning without make up and see their flaws every single day. She knew from experience that men like Noel saw women like her for sex, not long term, not marriage. Just sex. She cut her gaze back to him, “You only think that because I haven’t slept with you.”
“Yet.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry to tell you this Noel, but no matter how gorgeous you are and how incredible you look naked, I’m not having sex with you.” I’ll just continue to fantasize about having sex with you, she thought to herself watching his pulse quicken on his neck.
He placed his hands against his chest in mock hurt. “Is the idea of sex with me so repugnant to you Shellie?”
“On the contrary. I would love nothing more than to wrap my legs around you and ride until my legs go numb and I pass out from pure pleasure.” It was her turn now to stare at him with lust in her eyes.
His mouth suddenly felt very dry but as much as he willed his body to obey, he couldn’t seem to close his mouth. When he did, he swallowed a thick lump caught in his throat.
Conflict of Interest Page 14