He tucked his hands in his back pockets as they walked as he said, “Yes. I was careful and used the gardener’s gloves I found in the shed so as not to add my scent to the nest.”
Yeah, she hadn’t seen a nest or eggs.
But then two blue birds with white stripes returned singing and flapping around as they searched the courtyard. Rocco pulled her back as the birds explored the second tree and went toward a branch. She narrowed her gaze and saw the birds land in a nest chirping.
Had Rocco seriously moved that there? He’d have climbed that tree another four feet. Her last landscapers would have needed ladders.
She hugged her baby and backed up as she said, “I have’'t paid for a gardener to start final work. I was waiting till the inside remodel to finish.”
He started to walk away from her as he said, “Then I have time to return the gloves.”
She trekked behind him toward the hotel which meant he walked backwards until she stepped beside him. Then he turned around. Somehow this man stirred something inside her though it was probably just he didn’t trigger her ‘hide’ reflex that normally happened with men in New York. “You can keep them. I bought you work clothes.”
He held the door for her as they retreated into the chalet. “You didn’t need-”
“I did,” she interrupted. His jeans were too big and she couldn’t see his defined muscles. Her face felt hot for that thought. “As an employer, I need to ensure my hotel has only gives off certain vibes. Please wear them when my clothes arrive for you.”
He bowed again. Seriously she didn’t need to replay the master/servant role as he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
How to break through and find out more about him? Her son started his small songs which meant he was hungry. She ignored the zip in her pulse and asked, “Walk me to put Jacob down in the playpen?”
He put his hands behind his back and nodded as he said, “If you wish.”
Interesting phrase as that wasn’t quite true. As they headed inside the heat of the building hit her face. And once the final mirrors were on the long walls, the hall would seem bigger than now. Either way her wants weren’t being discussed, but she took her jacket off and tossed it on a chair in the huge side room with the stone fireplace she wished she’d stared already. She put her son’s crib beside her.
This giant room was designed for couples traveling who wanted a quiet retreat as there were dark corners, the fireplace, the rug and soon she’d ensure multiple bistro tables and a bar. At night, the windows near the bar would be dark and torches that lead to her patio would be the only thing to see in the dark. Romance needed good settings and this room was to give honeymooners a place.
Mica flounced her hair to get rid of any snow off her face and hair. “Tell me more about yourself Rocco.”
“There isn’t much to tell.” He stood like he was at attention.
Yes, he’d been in the military. It was so obvious now. She wondered what branch, but did’'t ask. She took off the blanket and placed Jacob in the playpen she’d set up down here for when she read. “I think a man like you has tons of mystery. Enlighten me.”
Without being asked, he fetched the bottle out of the bar refrigerator, ran it under the water for a minute at the bar that would one day be used for selling mixed drinks to customers. “Nothing mysterious. I’m not important at all.”
She gave the bottle to the baby, not asking how he knew to warm it, as she avoided his gaze while she gave him her assessment. “You’re polite. You are willing to stay in the background, but you have strength of character and interesting insights. You’re nothing like men I usually meet.”
She went to the couch and pointed for him to sit. He took the side chair opposite her and folded his hands between his legs. She ignored the thrill that went up her spine as he asked her, “Who do you normally meet?”
The opposite of good guys. Most men just wanted a notch in their belts or even worse, the right to her bank account without actually caring about her or her feelings. She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Puffs.”
His gaze narrowed and it was like he stared right into her soul, past all her defenses. “Like, clouds?”
She glanced out the window at spring snow piling up. It was like telling Rocco was somehow a way to free herself from ever talking to another one of the jerks she tended to meet. “Yes, the men I meet are mostly like clouds. They block the beauty of the sky and tend to bring in the storms.”
His eyes had wrinkles around the edges as he squinted and said, “That doesn’t sound nice, ma’am.”
Perhaps he honestly didn’t know who she was or how much money she had at her disposal. She hadn’t told him her name or anything about herself. Maybe that was what she liked about Rocco. She leaned back in her seat and said, “Most men are afraid of a woman like me.”
He relaxed but then stood suddenly as he said, “There is nothing frightening about you. It’s refreshing to see that people like you exist.”
He walked out the door behind the bar that headed to the kitchen.
Her skin buzzed and she hoped he’d return as she called out, “People like me?”
The door still swung. She slumped in her seat. What had she said that made him leave? She’d been nice, or tried to be.
Her ears perked. She glanced at the door again as Rocco returned carrying two mugs in his large hand. She sat straighter as he handed her a cup of green tea and said, “Beautiful. Smart. Intelligent. Where I’ve been, women like you are often the stuff of fairy tales.”
He already knew she liked green tea from checking the kitchen cabinets.
No one else ever made an effort like that.
In movies or through friends she’d heard women judge men based on what he might offer, but since she had everything with the snap of her fingers, she’d never thought it might be nice if a man actually did small things.
Somehow it made Rocco’s brown eyes even more warm and her stomach had butterflies as she sipped her tea, then put the mug down. Her skin was awake in awareness of Rocco’s muscles as well as his sweet personality. “Where is that?”
His face flushed a little. Again he was unique. Men never showed emotion other than desire for sex. “Where men don’t believe women who are smarter than them exist?”
She scooted to the edge of her seat on the couch and hoped he’d answer as she nodded and said, “The puffs I mentioned earlier all believe they can run circles around me to fleece my money.”
His intense study of her was like he saw deeper into her than anyone else before. She didn’t blink, half-afraid of what he saw and half never wanting this second to end. He sat back, ”"You’re too smart for that which is a good thing.”
“I… tend to be competitive and I think I trigger that in men for them to pretend they are more than they actually are.”
“Life is too short for lying to ourselves.”
“What about you? What’s important to you.”
“I’m happy for the place to stay and the honest work.”
A knock sounded at the front door of the chalet. She picked her son up from his bassinet but he began to fuss and said, “Rocco… get the delivery truck.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood and headed out to the main room and front door.
She hadn’t told him that half of her purchases were for him. Maybe underwear wasn’t too much. Her face heated as she imagined telling him now, but she tried to shake that thought off.
She put her son back in his bassinet, and checked that her son was comfortable, with his bottle, and then stood as Rocco returned. Her heart thumped, and she ignored how her hair stood from glancing at Rocco as she said, “Jacob is asleep. Are those my packages?”
He took the bags he carried and offered them to her as he said, “Mark Jacobs. Versace. These are addressed to you.”
Warmth filled her. Rocco needed new clothes far more than she did. She pushed his hands back, with the packages, but immediately noticed a spark as she touched him. The sizzle wen
t straight through her, but she shook her head and said, “No. It’s clear your one pair of clothes don’t quite fit right, and besides you need some work clothes. So these are my small gift to help whatever your situation is to be a little easier.”
His face paled and his body tensed. Finally he said, “I can’t accept these, ma’am. I don’t need designer.”
Good clothes were the least she could do for a man who made her calm. H’'d been nice and considerate of her. She gently squeezed his wrist which caused him to wince. She glanced at him as he took his hands away from her. Had she hurt him? She hadn’t been hard, but she lifted her chin and said, “You can and you will. These are the stores I know well. I’m looking forward to the day you call me Mica.”
He placed the bags near the door as he said, “I’d rather think of you as my employer.”
For now. She hadn’t expected to be attracted to anyone.
And it was his gentleness that stirred something kind in her.
Near him, maybe she might be kinder if that was a quality that rubbed off. Anything was possible but for now she stood taller, comfortable in her position of giving orders. “I can still be Mica when I pay you”" Or rather, his mother.“"Anyhow, change and get lunch ready.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said at once.
Orders weren’t going to earn his trust, and her lips might never know what his kiss was like if she didn’t stop bossing him around. She let out a sigh and continued anyhow as she said, “And this time I hope you join me without jumping up to get whatever I want. I can get up to get my own condiments.”
“As you wish.” He walked out, carrying the bags.
Rocco already made her see the world a little different. Perhaps they both needed to know each other and she’d come to her senses. They were from different worlds. Maybe then she’d find out what his kiss might be like… not that she should have that thought or wonder.
But her lips tingled as she absolutely did.
5
Authorities report a prison break from Utah State Prison, two last escaped prisoners remain on the loose. A dozen prisoners escaped the prison a week ago, and most were apprehended right away. The last two are considered dangerous and if they are spotted, call the police. Do not approach.
The radio news report made his blood freeze. But he listened to the news as he prepared the lunch in the galley kitchen, and chopped tomatoes until he heard the report.
If Mica heard this and figured out who he was, she had every right to turn him in.
If he stayed here, he’d run a risk.
If he ran, he was also at risk.
And if he called his mother from her house, he’d be tracked. He hadn’t asked for permission to call long distance, which was probably silly as he was now wearing Saks jeans as he figured these were the cheapest she’d bought.
Rocco had to ask first unless it became paramount to run. Then he’d convince his mother to get treatment without getting caught first. Authorities would have her phone line tapped by now, if they were smart.
And they usually were, except they hadn’t cared if he was innocent or not.
The clock said 1:30 now. He added the tomatoes to the food processor for a pesto, when the light voice of an angel in the form of Mica broke through his brain despite how hard and rigid he stood as she simply asked, “Rocco?”
He turned his head and looked into the face of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
His mouth watered.
If he touched her, he’d ruin her with his bad luck and he best stay away.
Rocco wished she had her usual armor, the baby in her arms, which also strangely calmed him down. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.”
“Can I ask how you were poisoned and why?”
“Usual way, poisoned my food. The jeans look like they fit better.”
“Thank you, ma’… Where’s Jacob?”
She bounced in her step as she came closer and made the room smell like her floral perfume as she said, “Asleep. I have the baby monitor on my phone that alerts if he stirs. I wanted to check on you and see how dinner was coming along.”
Mica had a beauty to her that most women would never have. It wasn’t any feature on her face or body, but it was something she stirred in his soul. She was fierce, take charge when she needed to but also kind. He returned to the stove as he said, “It will be ready in a half an hour.”
She walked beside him and the air around him no longer just smelled of meat and onions. She made it sweeter as she asked, “Anything I can do?”
She wanted to help? There wasn’t much to do except stir the sauce so he glanced at her and said, “I’m just minding the gravy at this point, but ’'ll need to set the table.”
She reached up into the cupboard above her head and took out the plates. “And get a bottle of wine. What do you prefer, red or white?”
She placed the plates on the counter and stepped back.
He had no words for her. It had been a while since h’'d had wine with dinner. Rocco shook his head and said, “I’ve not…”
She lifted her eyebrows and then disappeared into a side room as she asked, “Beer? I’m sure I have beer. I probably have anything you might desire in beverages around somewhere.”
Alcohol hadn’t been on his mind or lips in year—-but h’'d escaped, across state lines.
Anyone else would be celebrating.
But fear for his mother kept him grounded, though even she would tell him to take the offer. “A beer sounds good.”
She returned with a six pack and put it in the freezer to cool in a hurry. “What are we eating tonight?”
“Meatloaf.”
It might not be the fanciest meal, but he’d craved a good meatloaf with onion and gravy since he’d been fed the prison version, which was gray and not fit for an animal.
She pressed her lips together, clearly less enthused as she said, “Intriguing. I have’'t had-”
“I can make something else,” he interrupted, and headed toward the refrigerator.
A woman like Mica would probably eat lighter fare. He should have guessed she’d hate meat and potatoes.
She reached for his wrist and a spark rushed through him as she said, “I’m intrigued by your idea of comfort food. I’ll have a beer too.”
Yet this wasn’t what she wanted. It was clear. He shook his head and opened the refrigerator as he said, “You don’t have to share with me. I can make chicken, or a big salad. I’m already uncomfortable wearing these clothes you bought.”
If anyone spots an escaped prisoner, please contact the authorities. The pictures are on our website.
The radio announcement blared in his ears and he turned it off fast.
Mica should run from him.
Or he should just leave now.
She patted him on the back and asked, “Rocco, what’s on the radio?”
His life was over. Not that he had one anyhow. He was stupid and should run now as he said, “The authorities were saying that ther’'s been a prison break in Utah.”
She pointed to the other side of the stove and the radio as she said, “Turn it off. I’d prefer music when we get this in order.”
This only delayed the end.
He lowered his head and said, “As you wish, ma’am.”
He strode over and turned off the radio.
This might be his last mea—-he had to chance calling his mother and convince her to get help. She deserved to live a full life and not avoid treatment because she was… sad.
Roger didn’t get to ruin all their lives when he’d probably set him up for his crime. Their mother needed to survive this mess. She needed to stop appealing and focus on her health. He realized people weren’t evil; they just didn’t care about his plight.
Mica’s light hand brushed against him and his hair stood on end as he turned and she asked, “Do you mean that? Anything I wish?”
If he’d been smarter than his brother, he’d have proven his own in
nocence. But the idiot he was didn’t deserve a good woman. “Yes. Do you need something?”
She came closer and every cell in his body flared alive as she asked, “Need?”
He lowered his head and his lips ached to take her, kiss her, and never let her go.
But he’d give her a life sentence and she didn’t deserve to ever be involved, so he didn’t dare move as he simple said, “Yes, ma’am.”
She reached up and brushed her soft finger against his taut cheek as she asked, “Am I the only one fighting an attraction here?”
His heart thundered in his chest. Every part of him ached to follow his desire for her, but he closed his eyes and said, “Excuse me, ma’am.”
Mica ran her hands through his short hair. “Look, neither of us are eighteen. When I want something, I acknowledge my desires and go for it. And I want you. We did’'t expect to meet, but here we are.”
And if he followed through, he’d destroy her life and bring the authorities, danger and his troubles to her door.
His life was already ruined but he couldn’t take her down too. He backed away from her despite how his muscles grew harder like he should haul her close and rip every piece of her clothes off. “I’m not good for you.”
She pressed her hand to her heart and said, “I decide what’s good for me and what’s not.”
But she didn’t have all the facts that would make her run. He tucked his hands in his pockets unsure what to do as he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
Tears formed in her eyes as she said, “The last man that I had sex with tried to murder me. Would you do that to a woman, Rocco?”
That man was a reason for life in prison. Rocco would murder him with his bare hands and he never raised his hands to anyone as he met her gaze and reached out to pat her arm. “Absolutely not.”
She let out a sad laugh and said, “Then you more than qualify.”
Confidence in herself would return. She was smart, beautiful and had one very bad experience. The rest of her life would be beautiful, as long as he kept his distance. He traced her arm, as she needed a friend, and said, “You aren’t making a good choice by wanting me. I’m sure there are men who would be happy to wear these clothes.”
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 85