by Roi, D. S.
“Why don’t you use mine to give them a ring, Love?” The endearment rolled from his tongue like second nature and seemed to fit her well.
The bright smile returned. She took the phone with a “thank you”. She must have gotten a voice mail. The talk was short; filled with information about what happened to her phone, where she was and how she hadn’t settled on a place to wait yet. She handed the cell back to him.
“Thank you, Asher. I’m sorry to bother you, but I appreciate all your help. I’ll be on my way now.”
“Sure.”
For an out-of-towner she hadn’t forgotten her manners. He watched her reach for the door handle and took a quick survey of the contents of the old machine she drove. The interior was clean, except for the gym bag in the back. The passenger seat held a meager amount of beauty supplies. The old car was close to immaculate. He had to admit it was a bit of a setback to walk up on a Gremlin in decent shape, especially since Cyana appeared to be younger than the vehicle.
When she settled in the seat, he started back to the former stable to finish prepping the floor for tile. He recognized the ticking of her starter, rapping four times in attempts to get the old motor to turn over before there was silence. He heard the door to the car slam shut and stopped in his tracks.
He pivoted, heading back. Rounding the corner, he found her lifting the hood of the car. She took one step back. Her heel snapped on her right pump. A loud “Shoot,” passed her lips. She reached down to her feet.
Her dress hiked in the back, teasing his view while it swayed just below her ass. A smile touched his lips. What luck is this?
He halted short of approaching her and leaned over the opened hood. “Looks like you could use a hand?”
She shot up straight with a squeal of surprise at his voice. Wide-eyed, she clutched the wounded pump firm in her grasp. The hood of her top fell back, revealing a dark brown mass of kinks crowning her head and stopped slightly past her shoulders. He could see those big eyes clearly now. Their light brown sparkled against the limited sunlight with flecks of gold.
“You have got to stop doing that,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “I really didn't mean to sneak up on you. What do you think the problem is?” he asked. He hadn’t wanted to assume she didn’t know anything about cars. Seeming she owned the beast, she probably was well aware of what ailed it.
“It was just running a moment ago. The starter is turning. I’m sure it’s not that. I think it’s the alternator.”
Impressed, he nodded. Not only a pastry chef but also knowledgeable about cars.
“I bet Matthew’s would have the part I need,” she said.
“Matthew’s Auto parts?” he asked, knowing of the place. How did she know about Matthew’s if she was from out of town?
“Yeah, I’m sure he remembers me.” She smiled.
“Matthew’s, huh? I know the place. Been by there a time or two. He owe you a favor?”
“One?” She emphasized the word. “I grew up with that rat. He better fix my stuff.” Her brow knit in a cute frown for a moment.
“Matthew’s is clear across town. You got money for a tow?” he asked.
She tucked the pump under her arm and yanked a wallet from the pocket of her hoodie and opened it. A meager wad of twenties was fisted out before she shrugged. “This is all I have. I don’t know if it will cover a tow.”
“That is all the money you have?” he asked and started to chuckle.
Cyana stashed away the funds and wallet, grabbed the pump and placed her hands to her hips. Bending the knee of her shoed leg, she balanced her stance. The gleam in her stare meant business. “Look mister, I just drove all the way here from Chicago and put every dime into that tank. Now I’m stuck—”
“Whoa.” He held his palms faced out, surrendering. “Slow down, Love, I’m not poking fun. I just want to make sure you get to where you’re going in one piece.”
4
Cyana bit back her temper. Her circumstances had nothing to do with Asher. It wasn’t fair to take the brunt of her unfortunate encounters out on him. So far, he had been more than generous to a stranger and hung out longer than any other person would. Plus, it was really hard to stay upset when he called her Love. Of all the southern endearments she had grown up hearing, that wasn’t one of them.
She took a good look at Asher. He was tall and broad in the chest and shoulders. His dark blond hair was slightly overgrown. A two-day shadow of stubble covered his jaw. His gaze caught hers. She thought her heart skipped a beat. His right eye was blue and left a grey-green. His lips were full. He could pass for handsome in any girl’s book, even a girl who tended to like her men dipped in dark chocolate. Her face warmed. If she could blush at her thoughts, she certainly would now. His voice broke her analysis.
“I was thinking you’d have to get the car towed. Then probably shack yourself up somewhere while you wait. That doesn’t look like enough cash to get the car across town and a hotel in case Huffing Kitchen doesn’t get your message. I’d hate to send you on your way stranded.”
The defeat weighed her upright shoulders into a slump. A pout formed on her lips as she thought about what he’d said. The rain which died some picked up. She lifted the hoodie to protect her afro style while she considered what she would do.
She couldn’t call on any old family friends. They had long since passed away. Mama stopped going to church once Iona graduated high school fourteen years ago. She wrung her hands together in the pocket of the hoodie and stared at the stone drive. As much as she would trust Matthew with her car, she wouldn’t dare trust him with a woman, especially herself. If she didn’t hear back from Mama and Iona, then she wouldn’t know who she’d be able to stay with until they got in town. She didn’t have a phone anyway. Crap. She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t look so lost, sweetheart.” Asher’s voice raised her gaze to his. “You’re a brave one. Chicago, huh? You make a habit of crossing the country by yourself?”
She sighed. “No.”
“Bet this is the first time the old car ever put you down too.”
She laughed. “I’m not the original owner, but yes. I’ve had it for a few years. It’s been very reliable.”
“Well, then you couldn’t possibly see this coming. No telling how long the alternator has been in there.” He leaned back against the car. “If you would like, you can stay here at the Milway until you get a hold of your folks.”
“Here?” She glanced at the mansion, not hiding the excitement of the idea. She’d loved and fantasized about this old home since she could remember. Her heart pitter pattered at a chance to see the interior. “I don’t think the owner would like it. They aren’t here anyway.”
“The owner trusts me with keeping the place. I guess you can hang about under my watch until your folks get back with you.”
“But.” She gestured to the Gremlin.
“I’ll take care of the tow. Does that sound like a deal?”
She worried her lower lip. Stay in an old mansion with a man I don’t know? She glanced around at the well manicured lawn soaking up the rainfall. Her sights settled on Asher. Well, he seemed kind enough. If he was going to hurt her, she at least left a message on her sister’s phone about her location. “Are you sure it’s okay?”
He shifted to lower the hood as if the issue was settled. “Get your things. I’ll have the car towed to Matthew’s tonight.”
“Thank you. I owe you one,” she said.
Asher flashed a smile, forcing her heart into a pitter patter before he reached into his pocket and fished out some keys. She lifted her foot with the unbroken pump and yanked it off, pairing it with the wounded one. She followed him up the porch steps. Her stare zoomed in on the tight round of his buns in the carpenter jeans. The sight was admirable.
“I’ll give you a tour of the mansion if you’d like,” he said once he reached the top step.
“Okay,” she said.
“Great.” He unlocked the glass do
or and held it open. “Ladies first.”
Cyana marveled at the foyer. Her analysis followed the hardwood floor covered by a plush rug. The rounded entry way held two fine chairs on each side with dark coffee tables between them. Each table sported a crystal coaster and matching square vases with brochures on the house stuffed inside them. A smaller container at the right of the flyers held black river rocks and gardenia blossoms floating in a shallow vase. It was a simple setup atop delicate crocheted doilies.
The nickel chandelier hung over the foyer was enormous with crystal shards gleaming against the light it provided. The door closed gently behind her.
“Wow, this is nice,” she awed.
“I’m glad you like it. I had to get a contractor in for the fixture, but I think it was well worth the expense.”
“You did this?” she asked.
“Yeah, I’m the project manager. I’ve been onsite for four months now trying to get the house showroom ready for events.”
“You have good taste,” she complimented.
Her gaze met his. He flashed a handsome smile. Her pulse sped more than she wanted.
“Thanks. This is just the entry way. Come on.” He sauntered past her through the opening. “There are two sitting rooms,” he went on to explain. “The one to the right has a French influence; the one to the left, a Colonial American feel. The owner hasn’t truly decided which works better, so I’m trying both. We’ll do a survey later. Which one do you like best?”
She peeked into the French influenced room with light blue sofas; another plush rug matched the colors. The wallpaper ran from floor to ceiling, cream and white with lines of silver and small bouquets of light blue flowers. The coffee table in the center of the room was low with Queen Anne feet. A vase of gardenia flowers and a small closed candy dish filled with individually wrapped mints topped it. A fireplace dominated the back wall.
“This one is nice. I think the colors would be too light for a large party though. If someone spilled a glass of red wine on any of this, I would have a fit.”
He chuckled at her reaction. “Good point.”
She strolled to the Colonial room. The furnishings were a deep cranberry. The coffee tables were simple and functional. The finishing carried an early American style, but was a dark wood and popped against the lighter hard wood floor. A paneled chair rail ran the bottom half, painted white and cream to lighten the room against the contrasting furniture.
Moldings flared from the chandelier in the recessed ceiling, adding character to draw the eye upwards. The table tops were neat, organized with a few vases dotting the corners of the rooms.
“Mm, this is more my style. It’s warm and inviting. The windows let in so much natural light. I could sit in here and read forever.”
“Score one for America.” Asher gave a thumbs-up. “The rest of the house has a more modern feel to it. We’ve kept as much character as we could. But, truth be told, the house was near condemned before we started working on it. We couldn’t spare much.”
“Condemned? Really?”
“Yeah, a kitchen fire destroyed most of the interior.”
“Oh yeah, I remember. I was a senior in high school.” She surveyed the area. “I wouldn’t be able to tell there ever was a fire walking through here now.”
“The previous owner hired a crew to clear the damage out before selling the property. They did a great job.” Asher leaned into his heels. “You seem to know a lot about this place.”
“It’s the biggest property in Weynor. Growing up here, you learn a lot about local history. I never toured the house before the fire though. It’s all new to me.” She shrugged.
She stopped short of telling him about her childhood fantasies of running through Milway mansion halls and feasting at the dinner table of the large imaginary kitchen. Childhood visions of roasted pigs with apples stuffed in their mouths and sweet cakes piled high on silver platters played in the back of her mind.
“Well, most of the rooms are open for dining, food and beverage serving areas and we’ve added extra restrooms. The upstairs has barely been touched. But, if the place books a few more wedding events, it won’t take long to get the capital. Come on. I’ll show you the rest so you can be familiar with the place when you come back.”
“Sure,” she said.
“Just leave your shoes there and follow me.”
Asher’s guided tour took several minutes. She was impressed with how much work had gone into getting the old mansion back to a shadow of its former self. They ended the tour on the far right end of the house in a modern kitchen, fitted with stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops. Small clear glass tiles with occasional black ones scattered throughout the backsplash topped off the appeal.
Cyana ran her hands over the counters, admiring the dishwashers and ovens; opening each to view the capacity. “Is this the kitchen we’ll be using?”
“Oh, no.” Asher shook his head. “This one will be for warming and serving. The old horse stalls off this side of the house have been converted into a kitchen. I left the gate open today for a tile delivery. It was supposed to come in so I could start the stable kitchen tomorrow. I was surprised to see you show up.” Once Asher leaned against the island his phone alerted. He straightened up, tugging it from his pocket. He came closer to her. “This Huffing’s number?” He showed her the screen.
“Yes.” She instantly perked up.
“Go on.” He handed it over.
Cyana took a seat on one of the stools at the tall island before answering the call. Asher watched the big smile stretch her thick glossy lips. Mm, thick lips on top means thick lips on the...damn. His cock jumped at the comparison. His ears heated while his mind entertained the feel of her luscious looking mouth.
He didn’t dare take his attention off her. She was distracted and leaving him soon. He would get his fill before she parted. He half-listened to her conversation while admiring the one leg she kept draped towards the floor. With her toe pointed, the muscle of her calf dented in on the side. Her feet appeared freshly serviced with a sparkling red polish to match her dress.
The kitchen was getting too hot. He undid the top button of his flannel. He’d worn a tank top underneath in case the rain chilled the air, but now the two layers were killing him.
He heard the excitement in Cyana’s voice drop; then shoved his hands in his pockets before getting closer to her. The news wasn’t good.
“More time? Iona, I’ve driven from Chicago to work on this cake. Now, I’m stranded at the Milway. Yes, I found help. Asher has been more than generous with his time and his phone.” She huffed, putting her hand against her forehead. “Yes, I forgive you. It’s not all your fault anyway. If my phone hadn’t been trashed, I would have been able to call you earlier. Some guy knocked it out of my hand at the rest stop on the Tennessee line after I spoke to you. It hit the concrete and shattered into a million pieces. I know.” She hotly agreed to whatever her sister was saying. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out. I said I don’t know. Asher’s going to have the car towed to Matthew’s tonight. You’ll have to bring some cash to reimburse him. Um hum. Take it out of what you’re paying me.”
She let out a loud sigh. “I’m down to my capital savings, which I’m not touching. Work with me here. Okay, when I know where I’m staying, I’ll call you. Probably at Matthew’s. I’ll sleep in the car or whatever.” She listened for a moment. “That boy better not touch me. I used to patch up his boo-boo’s. Then I’ll knock his drunk ass out.” She heaved in a breath, shutting her gaze while shaking her head. “Of course I don’t want to be around it again. What other choice do I have? This isn’t the same. I’ll be fine. Look, if it really bothers you, I’ll walk to the store and nab a burner until the insurance replaces this one, but the purchase will wipe out all my hands on cash. Deal. Okay Iona, you’re burning up Asher’s minutes. Okay. I’ll call you. Love you too. Bye.” She hung up the phone with a heavy sigh.
She flashed a forlor
n gaze at him while handing it over.
“Thanks, Asher.”
“You talk to all your business associates like that?” he asked with a grin.
“Oh,” she smiled, “Huffing Kitchen’s family owned and operated by my Mama and sister. Trust me,” she waved a dismissive hand, “I don’t love everyone I work with. I’ll be getting out of your hair as soon as you call Matthew’s. I’ll make sure you get reimbursed. Can you wait until Sunday night for it?”
He nodded. “I won’t go broke before then. What did your sister say?”
“She and Mama got invited to stay at the fair three more nights. It’s the last three nights of the festivity anyway. They’ve been such a hit the organizers are giving them the booth rental free.”
“Oh, yeah? The food’s that good.”
She gave a smile. “Yeah.” She dragged the word out with a hint of pride. “It’s disappointing I traveled so far to see them. It’ll be lost time to visit, but I can’t blame them. The booth rental totals eight hundred dollars. They get to still serve from the port-a-kitchen and gain customers from their spot virtually for free. It’s a good business call.” She shrugged.
“But where does that put you?” He leaned on the countertop, closing the distance between them to command her attention. She seemed to want to look away. The sight of her heartbroken browns was far too compelling to walk away from. Damsel in distress.
“I don’t know. Matthew’s I guess. I used to babysit that kid. I’m sure he’d take me in for a few days. I could work off the stay by tinkering in the garage a bit. I haven’t worked on a car since changing the oil. The dirt could help me get my creative thoughts going.”
He chuckled. “You work on cars and bake cakes. Is there anything you can’t do?”
She turned her sight skyward. The cheek on the corresponding side of her face plumped up in a half-smirk before she shook her head and restored her visage to normal. “Um, haven’t found anything yet.”
Asher took a breath. Every part of him was comfortable with his next proposal. “Tell you what.” He flipped his body to lean his back against the island, crossing his arms over his chest. Cyana’s stare slid down his long form. A smile etched his mouth. The subtle pause of her gaze on his crotch caused the pink of her tongue to moisten the gloss of her lips. Her palms curled slightly on the countertop. She abruptly cast her attention to the floor. A rush of gentle breath left her. Oh yeah. His body hummed. He’d gladly offer himself up for a pleasurable touch fest with her. Satisfied with the obvious mutual attraction he continued, “Why don’t you stay here and wait for them?”