by Tina Folsom
Eros tipped his chin up at her. “What’s he paying you?”
“For the gardening?” she asked, confused.
He made an impatient movement with his hand. “No, damn it! For trying to seduce me and get me into bed.”
“To get you into bed?” she repeated in disbelief. “Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m not! But clearly Triton is. And the rest of them, too. When will they ever give up?” He slammed his fist against the wall.
She shook her head, worried now. Was this man crazy? What was he going on about? “What is going on?”
He jerked his head back to her. “Isn’t it obvious?”
She attempted a shrug, but stopped herself, not wanting to risk the soaked towel moving and possibly exposing even more of her naked skin.
Eros pointed at her, moving his hand up and down. “Well, this, of course!”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you! He put you in my house! And then Dio sets me up and tells me there’s a burglar so that I come home and run into you. While you’re showering! Damn it!” He ran a hand through his hair, huffing angrily. “Did he really think that would work? I’ve told them all often enough that I’m not interested in any woman. Period. Done. But they won’t give up, will they?” He motioned to her again. “They think if they put a naked woman in my house, I’ll just fall into bed with her and everything will be fine. That’s not how it works. They can’t change me. I don’t want a woman!”
She let the words sink in during the silence that followed his outburst, trying to understand. His friends were trying to set him up with a woman. “You don’t?”
“I’m sorry. You’re pretty and all—”
“Don’t!” she stopped him. “You don’t need to explain.” It was clear now. He’d said he wasn’t into women on their very first meeting, but she’d dismissed it, too pissed off about getting doused with water. But now she understood. Triton and his other friends were trying to turn a gay man straight, when they should know better. Being straight or gay wasn’t a choice, it was nature. She understood Eros’s anger now. He just wanted to be what he was. “For what it’s worth: I had no idea. All Triton told me is that I could stay here for a couple of weeks while you were gone. I didn’t know he had an ulterior motive.” She looked down at her feet, not wanting to look at Eros.
“I believe you.” He sighed. “But I’m sorry. Under the circumstances, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here.”
She nodded quickly. “Of course. I totally understand. If you give me a moment, I’ll get dressed and pack my things.”
She watched him turn on his heel and leave the bathroom, closing the door behind him. For a moment she just stood there, the warm water from the shower still raining down on her, while she held the soaked towel against her front. She took a few steadying breaths as inside, different emotions collided.
When Eros had first barged into the bathroom, she’d feared for her safety, thinking he was an intruder looking to take advantage of a naked woman. That he had actually thought her to be an intruder and didn’t want to hurt her, nor ogle her lasciviously, was a relief. After all, he wasn’t interested in women. So why was she still embarrassed about the fact that he’d seen her naked? It shouldn’t bother her any more than it bothered her when a girlfriend in college saw her naked in the shower of the gym. Strange that she’d nevertheless had the feeling that he’d been checking her out, that he had looked at her body longer than was absolutely necessary. Clearly, as a gay man, he didn’t have any interest in a woman’s body. And why on earth did that stir up a feeling of disappointment in her?
She shook her head at her stupid thoughts and stepped out of the shower, wringing out the wet towel and hanging it over the glass enclosure. She reached for a dry towel and dried off.
Disappointment in Triton rose in her now. Why had he used her like this? He knew what her living situation was. Why dangle this carrot, this beautiful house, in front of her, when he had to assume that Eros would throw her out as soon as Triton’s ruse was discovered? Going back to sleeping in her office was going to be so much harder after having spent the previous night in one of the most comfortable beds she’d ever slept in. The lumpy couch in her office would feel even worse in contrast now.
But she knew she had no choice. She couldn’t even blame Eros. He didn’t need a housesitter, and he was annoyed with his friends—and by default with her, too—for trying to get him to do something he didn’t want to do. It wasn’t fair to Eros, nor to her. She was going to have a word with Triton about this, even if it meant he fired her. Principles were principles.
8
Eros paced in the guestroom while he waited for Psyche to come out of the bathroom. He couldn’t wait for her to leave. After seeing her naked, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep his cock in his pants.
Shit! He’d never been as pissed at his best friends as right now. Their plan to throw a smoking hot woman in his path and hope he’d bite, was working. For all he knew, his three friends had instigated the incident in Triton’s garden, too.
They might as well have presented Psyche on a silver platter. What healthy man in his prime could ever resist such a delectable treat? Particularly if that healthy man was absolutely starved for sex.
But he had no intention of giving into temptation and letting his friends win. Nor did he want to make the same mistake twice—the mistake of letting a woman into his heart so she could destroy what was left of it. And that was exactly the reason why Psyche had to leave. Tonight. This instant. Before he did something stupid.
“I’ll quickly pack my bag.”
At the sound of Psyche’s voice Eros spun around. He hadn’t even heard the door opening, too caught up in his own thoughts.
“Of course, sure, take your time,” he mumbled, unable to tear his gaze away from her.
She hadn’t dried her hair, only combed it. She now wore a pair of faded jeans and a tight-fitting white T-shirt. Unfortunately she hadn’t dried herself carefully enough, and now several wet spots on her chest rendered the fabric see-through.
He wanted to groan. Were the gods all turning against him? Had they all made a pact to fill his life with temptations of the female variety so he would do his duty as the god of love again? He should have stayed in Hades’ Underworld and drowned himself in wine and other spirits.
“I’m going to talk to Triton,” Psyche said as she tossed a few T-shirts into a black leather bag.
“Triton? What about?”
“Well, isn’t that obvious?” A pair of trousers followed the T-shirts. “He’s trying to make you into something you’re not. That’s not what friends do. Besides, it never works. People are who they are. You can’t change them. It’s not like they chose to be that way. They just are. It’s nature.” She squeezed a pair of sandals into the bag.
Surprised at her clear understanding of the issue, Eros nodded at her and instinctively approached. “Exactly! I mean, you understand that. And you don’t even know me. But my friends, who’ve known me since forever and a day, don’t get it. They think they can change me. I don’t know how to make them understand.”
Psyche opened a drawer and pulled out a bunch of undergarments and lifted them toward the bag. A bra fell out of the heap and landed on the bed.
Eros couldn’t avert his eyes and swallowed. He could imagine all too vividly what Psyche would look like in this lacy black concoction. Sweat suddenly started to trickle down his neck, making him aware of the heat in the room.
“Sometimes you need to lay yourself bare,” she suddenly said.
“Bare?” All kinds of images exploded in his mind.
“Yes, you know, you have to tell them how you really feel so they understand that they’re hurting you by trying to change you.”
A nervous laugh escaped him. Shit, she wasn’t talking about nudity, but his dirty mind had gone there immediately. “Yeah, I tried that. But they’re not giving up.”
“That’s
a shame.” She gave him a pitying smile, then zipped up her bag. “I’ve got everything.”
Eros reached for the bag before she could lift it off the bed. “Let me take that for you.”
“Thank you.”
“I can drive you.”
She walked into the hallway ahead of him. “I’ve got my truck outside.”
He followed her down the stairs, not knowing what else to say. She’d been kind and understanding, and he hadn’t expected that, not after the way he’d treated her at first. He wanted to apologize and thank her, but for the first time in his life he felt tongue-tied.
At the front door, Psyche turned around. “I’m sorry about the mess… I hung the wet towel over the shower and…”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t be sorry for anything. It’s not your fault. I apologize for barging in like that and accusing you of all kinds of things. You must have a terrible impression of me.”
She shook her head and reached for the bag. Reluctantly, he gave it to her. “No, I don’t. This is your house, and you did what any homeowner would do. No need to apologize.” She opened the door.
He smiled at her. “And let me handle Triton. I don’t want you to jeopardize your business relationship with him and Sophia. This is not about you.”
“Alright then.” She started walking down the front steps. “Good night.”
He followed her. “Where are you parked?”
“On the other side of the street.” She pointed to a run-down truck. He recognized it as the same one he’d seen her use two days earlier.
“Good night, Psyche,” he said, as she crossed the street and got into her truck.
She waved at him after settling in the driver’s seat, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine made a laboring sound, but didn’t come on. She tried again, and again the engine made a sound like it was wheezing and on its last leg.
Clearly frustrated, Psyche hit her hand against the steering wheel and cursed. “Come on!”
Eros crossed the street. “It doesn’t sound good.”
She turned her head to him and shrugged. But her next try didn’t yield any better results. The engine was dead.
Eros opened the car door. “Come on, I’ll drive you home in my car.”
“I don’t wanna put you out. I’ve caused you enough trouble.”
“Triton caused me trouble. You didn’t.” He offered her his hand. “Now, get out of the truck and let me drive you home.” It was the least he could do. “And I’ll have my mechanic look at your engine tomorrow to see if he can fix it.”
“But—”
“I insist.”
She sighed, but finally she got out of the truck. “Okay.”
~ ~ ~
Minutes later, Psyche sat in Eros’s convertible, while he confidently navigated through the streets of Charleston. Most restaurants had closed for the evening, and the rest were about to; few pedestrians or cars were about.
She’d given Eros the address, knowing she couldn’t really refuse his offer to drive her home. Her truck had been giving her lots of trouble lately. She sincerely hoped it could be fixed, because she didn’t have the money to get a new one.
“How long have you been doing the landscaping at the Olympus Inn?” Eros asked casually.
“Oh, I just started a little while ago. But I’ve been arranging the flowers inside the inn for about a year now.”
“Very pretty.”
She spun her head to him, her pulse racing. “What?”
He cast her a sideways glance. “The flowers in the B&B. They’re very pretty. I’ve always admired the arrangements, but I’d assumed that Sophia was the one with the green thumb. Guess I was wrong.”
Psyche’s heart slowed a little. For a moment she’d thought that Eros had called her pretty, not the flowers. How juvenile of her! What was wrong with her?
“Sophia did her own flower arrangements before she hired me. And she did a very good job,” she deflected.
“But you’re much better,” Eros insisted. “You have the touch. It’s very comforting to meet somebody who clearly loves their job and takes pride in their work.”
Something in his voice made her look at him. Had she heard sadness? “And you, what do you do for work?”
He glanced at her briefly, then looked back to the street in front of him. He shrugged. “I guess I’m retired.”
“Retired?”
“Well, or between jobs. I just closed a business, and now I’m looking for something new.”
She sighed. “The economy, huh? I hear you. I’ve seen a lot of businesses close lately. What field were you in?”
“Matchmaking.”
“Seriously?” She let her eyes roam his body. Wasn’t matchmaking an entirely female business?
“I know. I get that a lot.” He chuckled. “But I’m done with it now. Have been for about a year.”
“Miss it?”
“Nah, not really. I’m glad to be out of it. The pressure was getting to me.”
“Pressure? What pressure?”
He turned his head to her. “The pressure to put the right people together. What if I made a mistake? I’d be responsible for a bad relationship, a bad marriage.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I just didn’t want to carry that burden anymore.”
She shook her head. “But it’s not your fault when people don’t get along. I mean, it’s the couple’s responsibility to make it work. Not yours. You just make the introductions. You’re not forcing them into a relationship. They can decide if they want to be together or not.”
“People trusted me to find the right person for them. They trusted my judgment. And maybe in the process they relied on it too much and ignored their own gut feelings.”
“Are you saying that a lot of the couples you brought together split up again?”
“Well, some did. And I have the feeling others are still in relationships just because it’s convenient. But are they really happy?”
Psyche thought about her own failed relationships. Had she ever been really happy with anybody? Or had she pretended to be happy, because she wanted to be in a relationship back then? “I don’t know. Some people seem very happy. Take Triton and Sophia. They’re very lovey-dovey whenever I see them together.”
“They’re an exception, for sure. But that’s rare,” Eros claimed. “I doubt many others are as happy as they are.”
“You’re pretty cynical for an ex-matchmaker.”
“Emphasis on the ex.” Eros slowed the car and pointed to the side of the street. “I must have gotten the address wrong. This doesn’t look like an apartment.”
“It’s the right place.”
Eros brought the car to a stop. “But it’s a florist shop.”
“Yes, it’s mine. I’m staying here.”
9
Eros was still staring at the flower shop, while Psyche opened the passenger door and got out of the car. She snatched her bag from the back seat.
“Thanks so much for the ride.”
“Wait!” Eros said hastily. He switched off the engine and jumped out. “I’ll, uh, walk with you.” Because something compelled him to see where she was staying. The flower shop was only a one-story building, so there couldn’t possibly be an apartment on top of it. Maybe there was another structure behind the building?
She glanced over her shoulder, a look of apprehension on her face. “You don’t have to. I’m fine.”
“I insist,” he said with a smile, pretending to be the perfect gentleman, when his actions had nothing to do with good manners, but curiosity. “I’ll carry your bag.”
Reluctantly, she allowed him to take the bag and walked to the entrance of the shop. She pulled her keys from her handbag and unlocked the front door. Then she turned around and smiled, reaching for the bag.
“Thanks again.”
But he didn’t relinquish the bag. “I’ll carry it inside.”
She hesitated, and he knew in that instant that she was trying to hide so
mething. It made him even more determined to accompany her inside.
“It’s dark in here,” he said casually.
She flipped a switch and the overhead lights illuminated the shop. Psyche stepped inside, and Eros followed her, closing the door behind him. He glanced around. It was tidy in the shop. An array of plants and flowers stood on benches and in display cases. At the back of the shop was a counter with various tools for cutting flowers and arranging bouquets, and to the left of it was a door.
“I can really take it from here,” Psyche said.
“I’ve come this far already, I might as well carry the bag all the way to your apartment,” he said as casually as possible, adding a smile.
Psyche turned the doorknob and opened the door, then flipped the light switch. The moment Eros walked through the door, he realized why Psyche hadn’t wanted him to enter.
The room was no larger than twelve by twelve feet and appeared to be serving as both an office and a place to sleep. The couch, which had seen better days, was covered with a white bed sheet. A duvet and pillow were neatly stacked in one corner. There was a tiny window above it, leading out to a miniscule yard. To the right was another door. It was partially open and revealed a sink and a toilet.
“You live here?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
“Only temporarily.” Her voice suddenly sounded defensive.
“Why?”
She shrugged. “My apartment isn’t habitable right now.”
“Why’s that?”
“A pipe burst, and it hasn’t been repaired yet.”
“Well, how long should that take? A couple of days, right?”
Psyche shifted from one foot to the other. “Uh, yeah, normally, sure.”
“What do you mean by normally? What kind of damage did the place sustain?”
“We had to rip open the floor and a part of the wall, too. The insurance company is digging in their heels. I’m sorting it out. Just takes a little time.”
He stared at her, his eyes narrowing now. “How long has this been going on?”