WhiskeyBottleLover

by Robin Leigh Miller

  They finished eating, had more of that delicious cake he conjured from who-knows-where last night and then Hayes cleaned up. The fire had warmed the house nicely and with her full belly she yawned. No time for sleep yet. There were projects to finish for tomorrow.

  “I have to go out to the barn,” she said and then grabbed her coat.

  “Is it okay if I come along?”

  “Sure. Maybe I can use those hands of yours again. The more I get done the more I have to sell over the weekend. Oh wait, your clothes aren’t done.”

  Hayes shrugged and right before her eyes he was fully dressed in his clothes, the blankets lying at his feet. Her mouth dropped open in shock. “What? How’d… You could do that all along?”

  The rich, rumbling laugh that rolled from his throat made her thighs quiver. “Yep. You seemed to need to wash them so I let you. Besides,” he strolled over, placed the tip of his finger under her chin and closed her mouth. “I needed some payback for the bottle tease. I am a man after all, Chance.”

  Complete embarrassment washed over her, warming her cheeks and making her hope the floor opened up and swallowed her whole. With nothing to say, she turned on her heel and headed out the door. The cold night air felt good on her blushing flesh but by the time they stepped inside the barn it had seeped into her bones. It appeared nighttime work was coming to an end.

  Hayes finished polishing the lamp while she pieced together some colored glass and metal rods for decorative wall hangings. They worked together well and before long she realized how comfortable she’d become with him. Strange, she never felt comfortable with anyone. Even Jenny’s presence could become too much sometimes.

  When he finished polishing the metal she wired up the lamp as he went about repairing Jenny’s dilapidated chair. They both stood back and admired how the metal gleamed. Hayes appeared impressed, grinning and walking around it as if looking at an expensive new sports car. So he liked simple things. It shouldn’t surprise her, coming from the time period he did.

  Next he helped her with some wall hangings. She even taught him how to use the torch so he could cut strips of rod as she continued to bend and shape designs. By herself she would have only completed one piece, but with his help she knocked out three along with a few other smaller things she wouldn’t have gotten around to.

  “Hayes, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “You experience everything that happens to your bottle, right?”

  “Yep,” he answered, continuing to grind off the rough ends of the metal rods.

  “What happens if it breaks? I mean, it’s glass, fragile. What happens if it cracks or smashes?”

  Hayes stilled, his body tensed. When he stood and faced her she inwardly cringed at the defeated look on his face. “I won’t die,” he answered softly. “Only the shackles can end my life.” He held out his arms and looked down at the blisters surrounding his wrists. “But I will feel it, a never-endin’ pain I’ll be doomed to live with. Even after findin’ another bottle to inhabit, I’ll forever feel the broken connection.”

  How awful, living life tethered to an object as fragile as glass. What kind of force would create such cruelty?

  “You plannin’ on somethin’?” he asked.

  Chance’s gaze jerked to his. She immediately noticed the humor in his eyes. “No, of course not. I can’t imagine living like that or how you manage to stay sane.”

  “It isn’t easy, I’ll tell ya that much. I had to learn to separate myself from life. Isolate feelings and put them away. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone.”

  It sounded familiar, entirely too familiar. She’d done the same thing after experiencing the true loss of her first foster family. She’d learned to like them, almost love them, but when they came and carted her off to another home, the people who were kind and caring simply waved with a smile as if she meant nothing. That day a fragile piece of her broke inside.

  They worked in silence for another hour, nothing more than short questions and answers between them. How could they both be so much alike and still be from different times? At least she had human interaction on a daily basis. Hayes, he had more honest solitude than anything else.

  “Chance, you out here?”

  She jolted at the sound of her name being shouted. Hayes stood tall, stiff, and scowled toward the door.

  “Chance?”

  “It’s my neighbor. I wonder what he’s doing out this late?” Hayes grunted and then pointed to the rafters. She nodded and before she could blink he was gone. She searched the roof of the barn and caught his movement in the shadows.

  “Chance? Damn it, answer me!”

  Annoyed with his nosy attitude, she rolled her eyes and shouted back. “I’m in the barn.”

  The door swung open. Bill Day strolled in all bundled up in a thick coat, his hands stuffed down into his jean pockets. “What brings you out this late, Bill?” Like she didn’t know. The man was worse than an old woman, needing to know everyone’s business.

  “Came to see if you need anything,” he muttered, walking around and inspecting her work. “You’ve been busy.”

  “The store is doing well so I need to keep up with my stock.”

  “Ya won’t get rich selling trinkets like this,” he grumbled, picking up a piece of colored glass and then tossing it down.

  Chance banked her anger. Getting the closest neighbor she had mad at her wouldn’t be beneficial. “No I won’t, but I can live the kind of life I want. That’s all I care about.” The smile she gave him went a little over the top. Too perky, too bright and too full of mind your own damn business.

  Bill only grunted as he continued to snoop around, manhandling her things as if they meant nothing. Her temper simmered below the surface and for some reason, she glanced up. She couldn’t see Hayes, not really, but knowing he was there seemed to calm the fire threatening to rage out of control.

  “I wanted to ask you something, Bill. There are a lot of trees down just inside your property line. Would it be okay if I cut them up for firewood this winter?”

  Bill turned, thrust out his chest and gave her a cocky scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest. Creep. He loved it when she asked him for favors. He always puffed up like a spiny fish full of poison waiting for a hand to prick. She knew deep down one of these days the bastard would call in all these little, meaningless favors. A cold chill raced down her spine at the thought.

  “I suppose you’ll be wantin’ me to help you drag them out. Do the cuttin’ and choppin’.”

  Oh wouldn’t he like that? “No. I’m more than capable of doing that myself. I’m simply asking if I can make use of the dead trees to help warm my house this winter. If that’s a problem all you have to do is say no.”

  Part of her almost hoped he did. It would mean paying exuberant heating costs, that or wear an extra layer of clothes all winter, but it would be one less thing he could hold over her head. The way he squinted at her, anger flickering in his eyes, she knew she’d touched a raw nerve in his control panel.

  “Ya know,” he finally spoke. “You wouldn’t have to worry about such things if you had a man to take care of you.”

  A very unladylike snort came out of nowhere. She couldn’t help it. The notion was ridiculous to her. “I’ve been taking care of myself my entire life, Bill. That’s a position I’m not advertising for and have no interest in filling.”

  He came toward her, his movement reminding her of a snake slithering up on its prey. Alarm bells sounded inside her head. Every muscle in her body and the nerves commanding them went into flight mode. It took everything inside her to stand still and not move. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he scared her.

  Bill crowded her space, left only a sparse inch or two between their bodies. The smell of cheap cologne filled her nostrils as his potbelly threatened to rub against her middle. When his hand reached out and skimmed over her hair, bile rose in her throat. He’d never done this before. It was a clear
warning that her days of asking this particular neighbor for anything were over.

  He chuckled as his hand dropped away from her face, a greasy sound that made her stomach turn. “I’ll be over in the next few days to drag those trees out and start cuttin’ ’em for ya. Little thing like you won’t get one out of the woods.”

  She almost told him to forget about it, that she’d freeze before she allowed him any more leverage over her. Her mouth opened as he headed for the barn door but before one word crossed her parted lips he turned.

  “You won’t make it long livin’ like this, little lady.” His slimy gaze slid over the room. “Not everyone likes to give things away free all the time. Payment is necessary from time to time.” With that sleazy comment he slipped out into the darkness.

  Fury overwhelmed her. She knew exactly what the bastard meant. Like she’d get anywhere near his gross ass other than to spit on him. The only thing she ever asked him for was use of his truck maybe once a month. Well, that would stop. It might mean she had to sell off every last possession she owned but she’d have her own truck.

  “Who is he?”

  Chance continued to stare at the door as anger roiled in her gut. “A throwback from when men thought women couldn’t exist without men,” she answered. “And thought we were possessions, not people.”

  “Does he do this sort of thing often?”

  Chance noted the gruff, irritated tone in Hayes’ voice. “No.” She ran her fingers through her hair and turned to face Hayes. “It will be the last time though. He apparently doesn’t have the first clue who I am. I’m headed in, Hayes. If I didn’t need that wood so bad I’d tell him to go fuck himself, but I do need it. First thing in the morning I’m dragging those logs out of the woods and not stopping until I have them all cut up and chopped.”

  The last thing she wanted was his disgusting, sweaty ass on her property, leering at her and conjuring up filthy ways she could pay him back. She always overlooked his nosiness but this crossed the line. He could demand payment all he wanted to, she wasn’t about to get down on her knees for anyone.

  “Are you coming?” Chance turned off the lights and headed for the door.

  “Yeah. Let me go out first, Chance.” She felt his large, warm hand settle gently on her shoulder. “I don’t trust him not to be lurkin’ in the dark.”

  Didn’t that suggestion rattle her nerves to the core? She hadn’t thought about that. “Sure. Sounds good.”

  She stayed inside the door as Hayes stepped out and looked around. Damn that man. Instead of feeling safe and secure on her property, Bill instilled paranoia and she bet that’s what he intended to do. Why? What had she done other than ask to borrow his truck a couple of times?

  “Chance, you okay?”

  She looked up at Hayes, his dark eyes full of concern. “I’m fine. I let him get under my skin a little, that’s all.”

  Hayes nodded. “Come on.”

  As they walked back to the house she scooted closer to Hayes. Maybe his sheer size made her feel more comfortable, or possibly his gentle nature. Either way she trusted this man she’d known for one day more than Bill, who she’d known for over a year. Boy was that messed up or what?

  When they entered the house, Hayes went straight to the fireplace and tossed on another log. Chance slipped out of her coat as weariness hit her. She planned on getting up early to get more work done. Now she had to use up precious daylight to cut wood. No one ever said life would be easy.

  “I’m going to bed,” she told Hayes. “I’ll try not to wake you in the morning.”

  He stood, the fire behind him cast a larger than life shadow across the room and it stole her breath. This guy she should fear, not the soft-bellied Neanderthal down the road. This man, he could do damage and not physical either.

  “Why don’t you wish for the wood to be cut, split and stacked?” he asked quietly.

  Chance chuckled. It would be easy to do, she had to admit that. But would the pride of knowing she accomplished another task on her own be there? No. That’s what kept her going, proving to herself day after day that she could make it without anyone, no matter what. “You don’t know me either, Hayes. Good night.”

  Chapter Seven

  Hayes stood in front of the fire, watching the flames flicker and lick at the air. His arms hung at his sides with his fists balled tight. That bastard who strolled into Chance’s barn was the same man he saw last night. He didn’t like it. How often did this man sneak around her home in the dark, peering in at her when she didn’t know it?

  What kind of person did that? He knew the answer. A sick, disturbed individual capable of stepping up his game, and that made his skin crawl. He all but told Chance she’d be paying him back with sex and Hayes knew if she didn’t give it freely it would be taken.

  The thought of her being forced, abused and physically violated turned his guts inside out. He despised the act in his time and a hundred years confined to a bottle didn’t change that. To him women were precious and years of loneliness only solidified that sentiment.

  Hayes looked back toward her bedroom where he hoped she rested peacefully. He sat in that barn listening, watching and suffering. He wanted to jump down to her side, slip his arm around her tiny waist and tell that pile of cowshit she was under his protection. The first warning not to interfere came hard and fast, doubling him over in agony. He obeyed but at considerable cost to his integrity. Even now, knowing she was safe in her bed, he couldn’t help feeling pathetic.

  A man should protect a woman and he sat there letting her be intimidated. The look of fear in her eyes, the way her body shuddered when that slime touched her, it all left a foul taste in his mouth. The overwhelming need to protect her startled him. He’d never experienced anything like this. Not even before he became a genie.

  Hayes started ticking off the differences between her and his past masters. She didn’t have a vicious, I’m better than anyone else attitude. She didn’t have much but what she did have she freely shared with him. That never happened before. They talked like ordinary people. A grin spread across his face. That’s what he liked the most about her. She talked to him as if he were a man, not a servant. When was the last time that happened?

  He had to admit he liked her mischievous side as well. He got that she didn’t realize how stroking his bottle with her soft fingers affected him. How it burned his body alive and made him hunger for things he hadn’t had in far too many years. No one but genies knew about that. He could overlook it. But when she deliberately put his bottle under the water to see what would happen, well, it was funny now.

  Watching her reaction to the way his wet clothes clung to his body sparked an idea. The little minx deserved some mischief of her own. He deliberately made sure a sizable portion of his body was exposed beneath the blankets. Didn’t that throw her into a tailspin? Even flustered and embarrassed, Chance couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He had to admit, being looked at like a man again did something for him. Not that he didn’t notice the pure female she was either. Her slight curves, full breasts and enticing mouth made a pretty picture.

  His cock twitched to life and he quickly banked those thoughts. Damn it, Chance had revived urges he thought he’d put a cork on a long time ago. This woman had turned out to be a challenge for him. She wouldn’t make a wish and allow him to do his job. Instead she treated him like a human being, feeding him, letting him help her work and reminding him of what he lost.

  Hell, he couldn’t even stay mad at her outburst earlier. The woman actually apologized to him. He couldn’t believe his ears. The fire popped, bringing his attention back to the here and now. He looked at her meager stack of wood and decided to repay her kindness.

  She needed the wood for the winter and he would not allow that slug of a man to do the job and hold her in debt. Hayes tossed one more log on the fire to keep her house warm and then sent himself outside. It took some time but he found a dozen or so downed trees and sent them to her yard with a mere thought. A
s he stood over the pile, he calculated how thick they were and what it would take to cut them in perfect lengths.

  It could all be done in a matter of seconds, all he had to do was envision it. That wouldn’t fly with Chance though. Regardless of what she thought, he understood her need to accomplish things on her own. Conjuring a handsaw, Hayes settled in for a long night of work.

  * * * * *

  The alarm slowly seeped into Chance’s consciousness. She rolled over and slapped at the small box, groaning her protest at having to get up so early. It took a few moments but then she remembered why she wanted up at the crack of dawn. The thought of that sleazy man made her kick her legs off the bed and sit up. No time to waste.

  She shuffled out to the kitchen and started a full pot of coffee and then jumped in the shower. The hot water woke her up but she’d need the caffeine to finish the job. Wrapped snugly in her towel, she returned to the kitchen and poured a steaming mug of liquid energy.

  After a few moments she realized that cold chill wasn’t nipping at her wet flesh. She glanced over at the fireplace and gawked at the full blaze warming her house. “Hayes.”

  Speaking of Hayes, where the hell was he? She peeked over at the couch—nothing. After a quick check of the house she looked out the window. There he was in her yard. “He’s chopping wood,” she muttered.

  Without thought to what she wore, Chance ran out the front door and across the yard. The frigid morning air bit at her bare shoulders and legs. Twigs and decayed leaves pricked the bottoms of her feet but she ignored it all. Five yards away she came to a jolting halt as her mouth fell open.

  There, right in front of her, stood Hayes, shirtless with steam rolling off his bare upper torso. His flesh glistened with sweat and his hair hung in thick strands around his shoulders. The axe came down, splitting a chunk of wood in two. He kicked one piece aside and split the other in half.

  Each breath he took made his broad chest heave as more steam puffed from his mouth. It all looked like a scene from a movie—this gorgeous, sculpted man working in the early morning fall mist. It couldn’t be happening, yet it was.