Samantha chuckled. "You actually threw him over your shoulder?" She eyed Zachary and raised a brow. “He’s a big sturdy guy. I’m impressed.”
"Yes. I'll tell you the self-defense class we took last summer came in handy more times than not."
"Really. What else worked?" Samantha leaned forward to hear more.
Jerry harrumphed. "Let's talk about the defense class later, shall we?"
"Sorry." Samantha leaned back in her seat, rolling her eyes at Jerry.
Gillian cleared her throat. "Where were we? Oh, yes. Because of all the noise we created, other people aboard the Ida Belle became concerned. Before I knew it, they had apprehended Zachary and held a gun to his head. Everyone assumed he’d taken advantage of me."
"Well, you weren’t wearing any clothes. What were people supposed to think?" Zachary added.
"What happen to your clothes?" Jerry’s intense scowl pinned Gillian down.
She shook her head. "He's exaggerating. I was wearing my black sweat suit.” She looked at Samantha. “You know the designer one with the lace that I paid a fortune for.”
“Oh yes, I know the one. Cute.”
Jerry sat back and crossed his arms against his chest. His mouth flattened into a fine line as he glared at Zachary.
Gillian cleared her throat. “By nineteen century standards, I might as well have been naked the way everyone stared at me."
Zachary picked up the story again. "So you can well imagine why they would want me to marry her. Her reputation was at stake, as well as mine. I couldn't very well let people think I took advantage of a woman."
“So you married her?" Jerry lifted his brows.
"Well, of course," Zachary said. “It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Wouldn’t you protect a woman’s reputation?”
Jerry squirmed. “I wouldn’t be in a situation that called for it.”
“Boys.” Samantha placed a hand on Jerry’s forearm. “We can have a pissing contest later. Let Gillian finish.”
Gillian gave Samantha a quick smile. She knew this had to be difficult for Jerry to hear. Put aside the time travel aspects, she had married another man, a stranger when she had refused to marry him. She took another sip of her coffee thankful it had cooled down. She had to finish the story. “When I was getting ready for the ceremony, I finally figured out things weren’t right. I wasn’t in California or aboard the Queen Mary. However, the worse of it was that I was stranded in another century. I had no choice for the moment but to do what I was told.
“Before we left the ship, I did try one desperate attempt to see if I could be transported back. I lay back down on the floor and closed my eyes. I hoped when I opened my eyes again, I would be home."
"So that was why you did that." Zachary finally understood her odd behavior. "I thought I had married someone who didn’t have her wits about her."
"Thanks a lot." Gillian bit her lip to stifle a grin. He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze before she returned to the story. "So I find myself married, and Zachary has guardianship over his nephew. I had no idea by the way, that Tyler was related to you, Jerry. I never thought to ask what Tyler's last name was, but I can tell you the minute I saw the boy, I thought, he looked oddly familiar. I just couldn't put my finger on why. That is, until now. Tyler looks a lot like you, Jerry or rather . . . you look a lot like Tyler. It's still a little confusing."
"Indeed,” Jerry said. “You know this story is most entertaining, but what is the point here? How did you manage to find your way back?"
"I told you how. It was the dog. By the way, her name is Molly."
"The dog told you her name?" Jerry asked sarcastically.
"Don't be rude, Jerry. Of course, she doesn’t talk. She's a dog for heaven’s sake. She showed up one day at Zachary's home, immediately adopting them. Tyler is the one who named her."
"She would show up and stay for days, and then she would disappear for a while," Zachary added.
Gillian took over, again. "I think Molly is somehow a guardian over them. She appeared to me on the Queen Mary and brought me back in time. She led me to Zachary when he was in trouble and she led us to the portal, or whatever it was that brought us here. I believe I was sent back to save Tyler by bringing him to you, Jerry." She held his gaze. "Do you realize, if Tyler had died, you most likely wouldn’t exist?"
All eyes turned to him as they thought of this possibility.
"So," Jerry cleared his throat, "let's say this little story of yours is true. What you're telling me is that I just operated on my many times over great-grandfather, only he's still six years old?"
"Yes," Gillian answered with a nod.
Jerry ran his hand through his hair. “I did experience a strange sensation when I scrubbed up for surgery … an urgency to hurry.” He shook his head. “This is a lot to swallow.”
“Tell me about it,” Gillian said.
"Well …" Samantha smiled and looked at Zachary. "How do you like the twenty-first century so far?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Later in the day, Tyler was alert enough to eat some Jell-O. He marveled over his new surroundings, adjusting with little difficulty as if traveling through time was something he did every day. Gillian and Zachary stayed with him until he fell asleep.
Samantha dropped Gillian and Zachary off at the Queen Mary’s parking lot, so she could retrieve her car before someone decided to have it towed away. From there, they drove to Gillian's apartment. When they pulled into the parking space, Zachary looked at Gillian.
He knew he wore a goofy grin, but he couldn’t help it. "Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined this horseless carriage. What did you call this machine?" He ran his hand smoothly over the interior of the automobile.
"It's an SUV." Gillian smiled and opened her door. "Come on, let's go inside.” She motioned with her thumb toward her apartment.
He was reluctant to leave the amazing machine, but with a sigh, he opened the car door and followed her.
She unlocked the door to her apartment and flipped on a switch that made the room immediately become bright as day.
"Unbelievable!" Zachary whistled in wonderment as he entered the apartment closing the door behind him. "How does it work?" He looked around the room in search of something to explain the phenomenon.
Gillian had already moved into the kitchen but came back into the living room. "How does what work?"
"Is it this little knob?" He was at the light switch. He flipped it on and off to see if he could figure out how the room became illuminated.
Gillian went over to him and put her hand on his. "It’s called electricity. I pay my electric bill and the city supplies the energy to my home."
"I guess, I sound pretty ignorant to you, but I can't help feeling awed over all I'm seeing."
"You sound curious. It's kind of cute." She playfully tweaked his nose.
"Yeah?" he said, trying to pull her into his arms but she quickly wiggled free and went back into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
"Famished." He plopped himself down on the sofa. His eyes rested on the first item in front of him. "What does this box do?" Again, Gillian walked back into the living room.
"That is a television.” She went over to it and pushed a button. The screen came alive. “Hmm, the news. Let’s not scare you the first day you’re here.”
He watched her point a gadget at the box. She pushed a button and the picture changed again.
“This should be harmless enough. This is an I Love Lucy episode.”
“Hell and damnation!" He whistled. "How do the people get inside the box?" He jumped to his feet and examined the back of the Television set.
"There isn’t anyone inside the TV.” She chuckled. “This was something filmed a long time ago. I pay for a satellite service and ta da … ”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh … forget it." She turned off the set. “Why don't you help me in the kitchen?” Zachary scratched his head as he sta
red at the strange box and tried to figure it out.
“Zachary?” she called to him from the other room.
“I’m right behind you.”
After dinner, Gillian introduced him to a modern bathroom, showing him how to turn on and off all the gadgets. She handed him a towel, washrag and soap along with some clean clothes to change into once he was done. He was sure he wore a silly grin on his face as he shut the door. He was ready to experience the hot running water she’d told him about.
Forty-five minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom clothed in twenty-first century pajamas.
The whole time Zachary was putting on his new nightclothes, he wondered just whose clothes he wore. A part of him wasn't sure he wanted to know. Luckily, Gillian chose to volunteer the information.
"You look pretty snazzy in my father's PJ's."
"Your father's?" He looked down at his attire.
"I still have a few boxes of his things. I just never got around to getting rid of them."
"Oh." He sighed with relief. He couldn't help but feel relieved the clothes didn’t belong to Jerry Avery.
"Make yourself comfortable. I think I’d like a shower, too." Before she closed the door to the bathroom, she turned and looked at Zachary. "By the way, how did you like having warm water?"
"It was like pure heaven," he answered.
“Told you.” She smiled and closed the door.
When Gillian finished her toiletry, she dressed and went out into the living room. She was still towel drying her hair when her gaze fell upon Zachary sprawled out on the couch fast asleep. A new emotion tugged at her heart. He looked so sweet, so innocent lying there.
She went into the spare bedroom and retrieved a blanket to cover him. With him all tucked in for the night, she leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Good-night, Zachary Creighton. Be prepared. It’s my turn to take care of you."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Gillian set her alarm for seven since they wanted to head to the hospital by ten. She listened to the news as she dressed. The weatherman predicted the temperatures would be somewhere in the 90’s. She decided on her Keith Urban T-shirt, jean shorts and flip-flops.
She wasn't sure what Zachary should wear since she didn’t exactly have a closet full of men's clothing. She dug through her dad's things last night and found the pajamas, but as for the other clothes . . . Well, her dad may have been slim and trim but he didn’t exactly buy clothes that were the height of fashion. There were a couple of outdated suits and a few sweaters, but not much else. She would have to make sure they went shopping later.
Zachary hadn’t risen yet. Her lips curved into a smile at the vision he portrayed. He lay sprawled on the couch with his arm hanging off the side. His hair stuck up on end and he needed to shave, and yet the scruffy look definitely worked for him. She sighed. How could he look dangerous and sexy in her father’s pajamas? She’d let him sleep a little while longer and headed for the kitchen to start the coffee. She took out the carton of eggs from the refrigerator and hash browns from the freezer. She went to work.
***
Zachary awoke to the sensation of something delicious tantalizing his senses. "That smells wonderful," Zachary stood and stumbled into the kitchen.
“Coffee’s ready.” She nodded toward the pot as she flipped the eggs in the frying pan.
Thank goodness, Gillian focused her attention elsewhere. Zachary’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets when he got a look at what Gillian wore, or rather didn’t wear. His gaze slid rapidly down her shapely legs and back up again. Never had he seen a woman show so much skin other than when a man and a woman had sex. He cleared his throat with a cough behind his hand. He had better change his train of thought before he got himself into trouble. He headed for the coffee pot.
“Eggs are on the menu. I hope you don’t mind.”
"That sounds wonderful." He rubbed his hand over his chin feeling the course roughness. "You don't happen to have something available for me to use on these whiskers?"
"I do.” She dished out the breakfast onto two plates. “Breakfast first.” She brought the plates over to the table. “Grab me a cup of coffee, too, will you.”
“Sure.”
They sat across from each other in her cheery kitchen of yellow with white. Flowered curtains adorned the window over the sink and pictures of decorative teapots adorned the walls.
“You have a nice place, Gillian.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m just realizing how much you gave up when you were thrust into my time.”
“It was an adjustment.”
“You’re being modest.” He realized he hadn’t understood her fully until now. She came from a world of wonders and he could never hope to give her what she had here.
“Why the long face, cowboy? Is the breakfast not to your liking?”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “No it’s perfect.” She was perfect.
After the dishes were washed she turned toward him and smiled. “Follow me."
“Follow you?”
“You want to shave don’t you?”
“Uh … yeah.”
He followed her to the bathroom. She opened the cabinet door below the sink. "It's not the best, but it will work," she said as she pulled out the disposable razor.
Zachary took the item from her turning it over in his hand. "Now what am I suppose to do with this? Don’t you have a straight blade?"
“No.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you how this works. Trust me, you’ll like it better than a straight blade.” Gillian opened the medicine cabinet, pulled out shaving cream, and then went into the hall to retrieve a towel. She then lowered the lid on the commode. "Take a seat and I'll take care of you." She waved her hand to where she wanted him to sit as if she offered him the throne. It was a little too intimate. He was already having a difficult time keeping his hands to himself. However, instead of warning her that this wasn’t a good idea, he took a seat.
She put the towel around his shoulder before she lathered his chin with a generous amount of cream. “Turn toward the bathtub and lean against me.”
When he didn’t move at first, she motioned with her hand. He did as she asked. He tried not to think of his head resting on her breasts as if they were two soft fluffy pillows. Pillows he’d like to get his hands on. He closed his eyes.
Her hand glided over his skin, making every nerve ending come alive. Occasionally she rinsed the razor under the faucet and then she immediately returned to torture him all over again. “Turn around,” she ordered.
She shaved his upper lip causing his will power to slip more. His gaze wandered to her face then to her shoulders and finally landing on her breasts that were inches from his mouth. Sure she wore a T-shirt covering the small mounds, but it didn’t stop his mind from imagining the way they had felt when he buried himself in their softness. He swallowed. He just couldn't resist at least touching her, anywhere she might allow. He put his hands on her waist. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, but said nothing. She shaved his chin. When she finished there, she gently caressed the small cleft. "My father loved to tell me stories and one was about why people have dimples and small little dents in their chins."
"Really? What was this story?" He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"On the day you were born, an angel came down from heaven and bestowed a kiss upon you.”
He wanted desperately to kiss her, but that would lead to more and they shouldn’t go there again. He had to go back to his time and she belonged here. Only his body didn’t seem to care for his logic. His blood raced, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. He moved his hand slightly down her bare thigh, her flesh felt smooth and warm against the palm of his hand.
Gillian felt the warm rough texture of his hands on her skin. His nearness always aroused the sense of forbidden desire, strong and unrelenting. She bit her lower lip trying not to be distracted, but failing miserably. She took the towel draped aro
und his shoulders and wiped away the excess shaving cream from his face. "All done." Her voice cracked. He didn’t seem to notice. He met her gaze as he pulled her closer. She stood inches from his smooth face, their lips a breath away.
"Thank you." His voice was a hoarse whisper.
Neither one moved as if time decided to take a vacation and all activity ceased to exist.
Gillian’s senses screamed for him to touch her, but for some reason he held back as if he wanted her to make the first move. Her heart shuddered and she blithely ignored the voice that said no. She leaned down, having every intentions of devouring his mouth, but the ring of the phone sounded off like a buzzer, making them both jump.
Gillian stepped away from the warmth of his embrace. “I should answer that.” She motioned with her thumb over her shoulder as she backed up. She bumped into the door jam. “It might be the hospital.”
“Sure.” He nodded.
"Hello," Gillian answered as she picked up her portable phone in the living room.
"It's me," Samantha's voice said through the receiver.
"Hi Samantha." Gillian turned to see Zachary holding his clothes and going into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Gillian wished she could go back to the moment before and…
"Gillian, are you there?" Samantha repeated for the third time.
"I'm here," she finally answered.
"I wasn't interrupting anything, was I?" Samantha teased.
"No, no, of course not," she answered a little too hastily, sounding guilty even to her own ears.
"I was just wondering if your cowboy and his nephew might need a few clothes." Just then, Zachary emerged from the bedroom wearing his black pants, boots, white cotton shirt and vest, looking like he stepped out of an old western movie.
"I was just thinking about that this morning. They'll need more than the one outfit. Why don't you meet me at the hospital? We’d liked to check on Tyler first. While Zachary is visiting, we can pick up a few things."
"Sounds like a plan. Meet you there about ten?"
Creighton Manor Page 21