Wiley Johns

by Ciana Stone

  She turned and gestured to the other side of the room. A big archway divided the family room from the dining room. "Can you believe Annie Morgan's husband made this table and chairs? She said it was in the attic of his workshop just gathering dust. Come look."

  Molly walked over to the table. "I tried to pay him for it, but he wouldn't let me. And oh my God, you won't believe it. He's a movie star. Honest to God. I nearly fell over."

  Molly ran her hand over the smooth surface of the table. "Wasn't that kind of him and Annie to give me this?"

  "It was."

  She smiled and proceeded to the kitchen. "And this, of course, is the kitchen. Look, there's a lovely little porch outside the kitchen door."

  "You've really made a home here."

  "Well, not yet. But it's getting there. Come on, I'll show you the rest. My favorite room is Kaylee's."

  Molly couldn't help but grin every time she walked into the room. It was a five-year-old girl's dream room with a round bed complete with canopy, tiny LED lights wound around the frame that formed a dome over the bed, and filmy pink sheers gathered at the posts and held together with a band of satin.

  There was a small table and chairs, a huge armoire and an old-fashioned rocking horse. "Kaylee's going to love this room. I'm so excited for her to see it."

  "You miss her."

  "Oh god, I do. I do a video chat with her every morning and every night, but it's not the same. I can't wait to get my arms around her."

  "When do she and your grandmother arrive?"

  "Three days." That spurred her into moving the tour along. When she'd shown him the entire house, they walked out back, and she told him what she had planned.

  "And you're going to do all that in three days? By yourself?"

  "Well, yes. I have to. I couldn't let the girls spend any more time here. They worked hard, and it was a huge gift. And if I put my mind – and back, into it, I can get it done."

  "More hands make for quicker work."

  "I know, but I can't take advantage of people, and I can't pay to have it done, so…"

  "How about mine?"

  Oh, for crying out loud! Did her mind have to go straight to sex every time the man opened his mouth? She could think of many ways she'd like to put his hands to use. "Are you serious?"

  "I am."

  "Well, in that case, thank you. I bought a half dozen pair of gloves at the consignment shop when I went with Trina, and they're in the shed. Along with the tools."

  "Then let's get to it."

  Molly nearly swallowed her tongue when he stripped off his t-shirt and draped it on one of the chairs. Have mercy. She'd already imagined it a hundred times and had even started telling herself it wouldn't be as good in real life, so stop getting so worked up. He wouldn't look that good.

  Wrong. Oh, so wrong. Wiley might have the gray hair of a man in his late forties, but his body was taut, with long, lean muscles, a firm tight chest, and abs that made her fingers twitch in the desire to touch. Not to mention he was a man who didn't take away what nature provided. Hair sprinkled across his chest and down his torso, gathering in a tantalizing line that disappeared into the top of his pants.

  Molly tore her gaze from the sight. "Okay, I'll get the tools." With that, she headed for the shed. As much as she appreciated his offer to help, she wondered how she would keep her libido from getting the best of her. She wished she had someone to talk to about this attraction she had for Wiley. It was unnaturally potent. Like the man was a damn magnet that’d been programmed to draw her in with a force she couldn't combat.

  Go with life's flow, girl. Trust your heart to guide you. Molly felt a sense of relief as Elisi's voice rang in her mind. What was wrong with her, doing all this second-guessing and worrying? She was attracted to Wiley and if given the opportunity would most certainly date or bed him. What she wouldn't do anymore was feel uncomfortable about it. Instead, she'd enjoy it and let it go where it was meant to.

  Molly gathered up the pick, a flat edge and regular shovel and rake, put them into the wheelbarrow with a couple of pairs of gloves and returned to where Wiley waited. "So, you're going to dig out here?" He held his arms out and gestured around the area.

  "Yes. I watched a video on YouTube, and the guy said to dig out the dirt about six inches, then tamp it down, place a layer of sand and then start placing the pavers. When you're done placing them, you put sand on and sweep it into the cracks, wet it and then once it dries, you do it again."

  "Okay, one more question. What do we do with the dirt and grass we dig up?"

  "Oh, behind the shed is a kind of low area that Mrs. Netta says always stands in water because it needs to be filled in. I'll put it there."

  "Sounds like a plan."

  Wiley wasted no more words but set to work. She did the same, and for the next three hours they spoke very little, but she caught him looking at her quite a few times. Of course, he caught her doing the same, but she wasn't embarrassed one bit. He was hot, and she was going to enjoy watching him work, shirtless and sweaty, inspiring all kinds of things she would like to do to and with him.

  As he returned from dumping another wheelbarrow of dirt, she stabbed her shovel into the ground, took off her gloves and used the sleeve of her T-shirt to wipe her face.

  "Nice war paint Princess," he commented.

  "Yeah?"

  "Yeah."

  She turned and walked over to the spigot on the back of the house where a garden-hose was attached. After turning on the water, she found the end. An accessory for spraying was fastened to it, and she adjusted it to a spray rather than a stream then turned it to her face.

  "Oh god." The water was cold and felt like liquid bliss, so good that she put the hose over her head and let it rain down on her.

  When she first turned the hose on herself, Wiley smiled. Whether it was dirt and grime or water on her face, she seemed unconcerned. A lot of women would put a bag on their heads before allowing someone to see them with messy makeup.

  Not Molly. He watched and grinned. Until she held the hose above her head and the water cascaded down over her body. Holy hell. Until now he'd seen her dressed in jeans or shorts and baggy t-shirts.

  Water made her shirt heavy and clinging, revealing her shape.

  She wasn't just beautiful, she was also built like a wet dream. Big full breasts, just bottom-heavy enough to attest to their naturalness, a tight torso and an ass that made a man want to get both hands on her.

  Shit, he was toast. He'd been attracted to her since the moment they met, but he never let attraction rule him. He could enjoy flirting with a woman with no plans at all of bedding her. That wasn't how he rolled. While he wasn't all that keen on one-night stands, unless it was mutually agreed that it was just sex, he'd admit there'd been more than a few of those in his life.

  Was that what he wanted from Molly? He didn't think so, but maybe something Trina said colored his thinking.

  "Remember how I told you Brody was the first person I ever knew who wasn't at all broken?" She'd asked. "Well, Molly hugged me today, and I saw her. She's like Brody. She's Light, Wiley. True Light. There's love and joy and gratitude and honor inside her, and I think when she loves she loves very deeply."

  If Trina was right, then the last thing he'd do was use her for sex, and despite all their flirtatious banter, he didn't believe she was a woman who was interested in that. But then he didn't know her.

  And wouldn't unless he touched her.

  He was so caught up in his own thoughts that it blinded him to what was going on, but when cold water blasted against his chest, he snapped to attention.

  "Ha! Gotcha!" Molly crowed and continued to douse him.

  Her laugh was infectious and brought out that child he kept in check most of the time.

  "Oh, you're going down." He went after her.

  Molly squealed and ran as far as the hose would allow, blasting him the entire time. When the tube went taut, she slipped, and that's when he made his move. In moments
they were wrestling over control of the water hose, laughing like two kids and getting drenched.

  Then she slipped again. Wiley caught her with one arm and reeled her in. Her left arm went around his neck. For a moment she hung onto the hose. Until she was plastered up against him. Then she released the hose and wound her right arm up to circle his neck.

  Molly smiled and looked directly into his eyes, and that's when it happened. He hadn't planned or intended because he believed in the sanctity of privacy. But when their gazes met, he felt the door open as if she'd flung it wide and welcomed him in.

  He was drawn in as if by an invisible force but knew it was a violation and so he pulled back. But not before he saw her. Saw her light, her goodness, her enormous capacity for love. And her passion. It was the most sublime and pure seduction imaginable.

  "Oh Wiley, you unhinge me." She breathed and then she kissed him.

  Wiley had kissed a hundred women, maybe more, but this kiss was not like any other. Molly's passion wasn't merely a desire to have needs filled. It was a sharing and most of all a giving.

  She stripped years from him, making him feel like a wild young man experiencing his first sexual rush and at the same time, tempered that flash of passion with a liberal dose of sensuality that was seasoned and almost other-worldly.

  Molly was the embodiment of sensuality and not a woman a man could walk away from once he'd had her. Even now, his hands were trailing down her back to cup her ass and press her tighter to him.

  A tiny sound from her, a minute moan was fuel to a fire that was threatening to rampage out of control. Wiley pulled back and looked down at her. The smile she gave him was sexy enough to have him considering laying her down right there on the grass. It also contained enough mischievousness to inspire curiosity.

  "What does that smile mean?"

  "Just thinking about your shirt."

  "My shirt?"

  "Uh huh. You know. There's dirty and then there's dirty."

  "And you thought about that now because?"

  "Because one day, in the not so distant future, we're going to explore that sentence. In-depth."

  "Are we now?"

  "I certainly hope so Wiley because I was serious. You unhinge me, and that's a first."

  "A first?" Wiley was taken aback for a moment, not quite sure what she meant.

  "Come on." She stepped back from him and walked over to turn off the water. "Let's go in. You can get clean, and I'll get your clothes washed and dried while we have lunch."

  "You don't have to—"

  "You're not scared of being alone with me wearing only a towel, are you?"

  "That depends. What are you going to be wearing?"

  "What do you want me to wear?"

  "Is it too soon for nothing?"

  "How about a matching towel?"

  "I can work with that."

  "Then come on."

  They sat on the back stoop to take off their shoes then entered the laundry room. "Turn around," she ordered. Wiley complied and heard her moving around behind him.

  "Okay. It's safe." When he turned back around, she had a towel wrapped around her that covered from her breasts to upper thighs. "I'm taking the small bath in the hallway. You get out of those clothes, toss them in the wash with mine, and you can use the shower in the master. Towels are right here in this cupboard," she opened a door. "Meet you in the kitchen."

  She didn't give him a chance to respond before she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek then took off down the hall. Two seconds later he heard a door close. Wiley stripped down, put his clothes in the washer, wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to the bathroom just off the master bedroom.

  He smiled at the color scheme of the bedroom. Where the living areas of the house were bright and cheerful, this room spoke of sensuality. The colors were that of twilight, blues in varying shades of light to dark, hints of deep violets and reds. Was this her sanctuary? The place she could be alone with her secrets and dreams?

  Wiley went into the bathroom, started the water and climbed in. When he finished, he dried off, wiped down the shower with the towel he'd worn into the bathroom, then grabbed a dry one from the rod on the wall to wrap around his waist.

  He retraced his steps back to the laundry room and heard her in the kitchen, moving around and humming. The washing machine was already chugging away, but there was a hamper with her wet towel, so he added his to it then headed for the kitchen.

  Molly had her back turned when he walked in, so he was able to watch her undetected. Wiley was shocked. When she said she'd be wearing a towel, he'd assumed she was just carrying on. That wasn't the case.

  It sure didn't match the one around him. Hers was decorated with colorful cartoon horses, some with wings and other with rainbow-colored manes. Her long hair was still wet and hung nearly to her butt.

  "Need a hand?"

  She put something down, he couldn't see what, grabbed a dishcloth and turned. "Just one?"

  "You think you need more?"

  "Oh, yes. I definitely need both." She finished wiping her hands and tossed the cloth aside.

  He saw the way her eyes scoped him out as he walked over to her. "Where do you want them?"

  Molly grinned before answering. "Where I want them isn't going to get lunch done."

  "No?" He moved in closer, and she backed up a step, bumping into the cabinet.

  "Aren't you hungry?"

  "Starving."

  "You're killing me, Wiley." Her breath hitched as he leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder.

  "Want me to stop?"

  "Absolutely not. But—" She put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. "I'm not prepared for sex. I mean safe sex, and if you tell me you came prepared for it, I'm going to think this isn't what I'd hoped for."

  "I didn't."

  Her smile was so sweet and so filled with relief that it touched something inside him. He'd long ago come to the conclusion that there were no women left like her. Sweetness seemed to be something from a bygone era.

  "You're one of a kind, sugar."

  "And you… well, you know."

  "Unhinge you?"

  "You do. It kind of scares me."

  "Why?"

  "Because I never come undone. It just doesn't happen, or at least it didn't until I met you and I'm not sure whether to dive into the feeling or run from it."

  "What do you want to do?"

  Molly looped her arms around his neck. "I want to dive, but because of the way things are in my life, I have to wade. I have a daughter and have to make sure whatever I do is good for her."

  "I'd like to meet her."

  "I'd love that. Kaylee's such a wonderful little person."

  "Like her mama." He smiled and kissed her softly. "How about we get some grub going, hot stuff?"

  "Yes, sir," she hugged and released him. "Okay, I was going to fix some burgers. Do you mind if they're cooked in the skillet?"

  "Not a bit, but why don't you let me do that?"

  "You don't mind?"

  "Happy to do it. I make a mean burger. Do you have spices?"

  "In the cabinet to your left. I have some new potatoes I cooked last night. I can make potato salad if you like it?"

  "I do."

  "Cool."

  They got busy preparing lunch and chatted about her plans for the backyard. She said she wanted to have a house christening party once her grandmother and daughter arrived.

  "That sounds good. You've made a lot of friends already, so you should have a crowd."

  "I want them to bring their kids, too. And I wondered if maybe you'd be my date?"

  "You know it."

  "Really?"

  "Why does that surprise you?"

  "Well because you're – hot. I mean hot in big fat capital letters. Sexy, hot, melt a woman's panties right off her body hot. And you're a badass SEAL, and I've seen how women react to you, which tells me it's not just me that reads you as a "yes I will do all that and make you be
g me to come back and do it again" kind of guy."

  He knew she was being serious, but the way she phrased it, made him laugh. "Do you think that would fit on a t-shirt?"

  Molly laughed with him. "You know what I mean."

  "Baby, I don't know that I've ever received a better compliment and I'll remember it to my dying day, but you got this all wrong."

  She paused in the act of cutting potatoes. "What?"

  "You're the prize, Zorro."

  "Zorro?" Why did you call me that?"

  "It means Fox."

  "I'm not a Fox."

  "Oh, hell yes you are. Total fox."

  "Well, that's a huge compliment so thank you. Has anyone ever called you anything other than Wiley?"

  "When we were kids, Deacon called me Coyote."

  She frowned and then burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Wiley Coyote. I bet you hated that."

  "It caused a scuffle or two."

  They both returned to their tasks as they talked. "I bet so. But it must have been nice, growing up with two brothers."

  "There were moments. But what about you? Do you have brothers or sisters?"

  "I did. A twin, Morgan. He died when we were twelve. That nearly killed Elisi. Me too."

  "What about your parents?"

  "Well my Dad died when we were six, and when we were eight, my mom remarried and left us with Elisi, so she could start a new life."

  "That's shitty."

  "Maybe, or maybe we got the big end of that stick. Elisi is … the best, the absolute best. And no one could have loved us more."

  "So how did your brother die?"

  He didn't pick up on people's feelings without being in direct contact with them, which made it such a huge shock when he felt the wave of grief that washed through her. "I don't really want to talk about that if you don't mind."

  "Of course. So, tell me about Kaylee. I'm assuming that at one time there was a Mr. Fox?"

  "No. I've never been married."

  "So, what was her father to you?"

  "Kind."

  That was another surprise. "Kind?"

  "Yes, Very. The potato salad is ready. How are the burgers coming?"

  "About ready."

  "Ok, let me get the buns and stuff. You want lettuce, tomato, cheese, onion?"