by Tina Folsom
“I’m not sure how I can help you find somebody. I don’t really know any—”
“I want you to play my girlfriend,” he interrupted before he lost his nerve.
Psyche jerked back in stunned disbelief. “What? Me?”
Eros nodded eagerly. “Yes, you. It’s perfect. It’ll make Triton and my friends believe that they’ve succeeded, and they’ll lay off me.”
“But—”
He held up his hand, stopping her. “I know what you’re going to say. What’s in it for you?”
Psyche’s chin dropped. “Huh?”
“I’ve thought about that, too. I’ll help you get the water damage repaired in your condo so you can move back in. I’m pretty handy with stuff. And I know a lot of guys who owe me favors, so it won’t cost you anything. And in the meantime, you’ll continue staying at my place. And we’ll play the happy couple for my friends. It’ll be minimal effort. The odd party here and there. An occasional dinner. Just enough to keep up appearances.”
She stared at him for a long time, and he felt his heart beat into his throat. Was she going to turn him down?
“But, are you sure they’re gonna buy it?”
“Don’t worry, they will. We just have to be subtle. I’ll set it up so they think I’m trying to keep the relationship a secret, then they’ll believe it even more. The more they think I’m trying to hide that you and I hooked up, the quicker they’ll buy the deception hook, line, and sinker. They’ll be patting themselves on the back, congratulating themselves on the great match they’ve tricked us into, and get off my back. They’ll lose interest as soon as they see that their game worked.”
“Eros, I’m not sure.” Her voice was full of doubt.
“Why not? Honestly, we’re not going to be intimate or anything.”
“I know that. That’s not it. It’s just, we can’t keep it up forever. In a few months, we’ll have to break up, so we can both get on with our lives.”
He made a dismissive hand movement. He’d thought of that. “Not a problem. After our breakup, I’ll claim to be heartbroken, and they’ll ease off again and give me time to heal.”
Psyche chuckled unexpectedly. “Are you sure you need to go through all this trouble?”
“Yes. It’s the only way to get some peace from them.” And from Zeus. If Zeus believed that Eros was in a new relationship, he would back off for a while. “Please, Psyche. Do this for me. I promise you won’t regret it. Your apartment will be as good as new in no time, and you’ll get to hang out with me.” He winked at her. “I can be very charming and funny. And it’s not like you’ll have to go out with an ugly guy. What do you say?”
~ ~ ~
Psyche looked at Eros’s puppy dog eyes and couldn’t help but feel her heart warm for him. At the same time she felt disappointment flood her. Why were all the nice, handsome men gay? She suppressed a sigh and gave his proposal another thought. Not only was he letting her stay at his magnificent house, he’d also offered to fix her condo so she could move back. For the free temporary housing alone, she owed him something. And pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t be any hardship.
Everything about Eros was positive. He seemed educated: she’d gleamed that from the well-stocked library he had in his house. He had a kind heart, evidenced by the fact that after seeing her office the night before, he’d insisted on her staying as his guest in his house. And he would be no threat to either her body or her heart, because he wasn’t interested in women. What did she have to lose? Nothing. On the contrary, it seemed like she was getting the better end of the deal.
“Okay, I’ll do it. But when we go out, I don’t want you to have to pay for my portion.” On that she had to insist. “You’re already doing enough. I mean, letting me live at your house, and helping me fix my condo is more than enough.”
A huge smile spread on his face. “You are the best!” He unexpectedly pulled her into a bear hug, lifting her off her feet in the process, before setting her down again a moment later and stepping back. “But I’m paying for dinner. I insist.”
“But—”
“No buts! I owe you.”
But she couldn’t accept that. She wasn’t used to getting things for free. “Then at least let me do some gardening work at your house.”
Shaking his head slightly, but smiling, he said, “You’re a very unusual woman. I like that.”
She felt her cheeks color at the compliment, though she knew it was foolish. After all, Eros wasn’t interested in her as a woman. And for a very brief moment, she felt a tiny pang in her chest. But she dismissed it as insignificant.
“Well, then we’re in agreement.”
“Yes, we are.” He motioned to the clock on the wall. “What time are you closing up?”
“At five.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up and then we’ll go over to your place and you can show me what needs to be done. Does that sound okay?”
“That sounds great.”
With a wave he turned on his heel, her eyes following him as he headed for the door. With a final, cheery wave in her direction, Eros—handsome, well-built, and utterly unavailable—sauntered out of the shop.
12
It was early evening and still light outside, when Psyche opened the door to her condo and let Eros inside. She was still wearing the same clothes as earlier in the shop, navy-blue Capri pants and a long, loose-fitting striped T-shirt. She’d tied a knot at her left hip, so it wouldn’t ride up when she bent over while working on her plants. Eros had changed into more casual clothes: instead of the long cream-colored slacks and Tommy Bahama shirt he’d worn earlier, he now sported khaki shorts and a white T-shirt, which showed off his muscled physique.
“Wow, I see why you can’t live here,” Eros said, letting his gaze roam.
Every square inch of the living room was crammed full of furniture that didn’t belong there. Her bed had been dismantled, the mattress leaning against the wall, while the base of the bed, the headboard, and the footboard lay in front of the window. Her dresser was wedged behind the sofa, and an ottoman blocked access to the second window, while lamps and pictures lay on the couch.
A two-feet-wide path between the various obstacles led toward the open plan kitchen and then veered off to allow entry into the bedroom and the bathroom. Every time she came back to her condo, she shuddered at the sight of it. And the living room wasn’t even the worst of it.
“This way,” she said to Eros and pointed to the bathroom door.
He headed for it, and she followed him until he stopped in front of the open door. She stopped next to him and peeked inside. Nothing had changed since her last visit.
Eros turned his head to her, his eyes wide. “What happened here?”
“As I said, there was a leak.”
“I can see that. But why did they have to rip open the entire wall?” He pointed to the stretch of wall on his right where only the studs were visible, the lower part of the drywall having been removed to give a view into the bedroom. “What were they trying to do? Build you an en-suite bathroom?”
“Not exactly.” She sighed. “The first plumber couldn’t find the leak. So since the toilet is wall-mounted, he said he had to open the wall behind it to see where the pipes ran.”
“Yeah, maybe a square foot or something, but he’s removed half the wall. That wasn’t necessary. Any idiot can see that the pipes don’t run up the wall.” Eros pointed to the open floorboards. “The leak has to be down there on the lateral.”
She nodded. “That’s what the second plumber said, too. So he opened the floorboards and followed the pipes into the bedroom.” She made a motion with her hand to follow her and walked back into the hallway, then into the bedroom next door. There, too, the floor was ripped open. “That’s where he found the mold on the wood beneath us.”
Eros bent down and looked. “It’s not on the underside of the floorboards though.” He looked up at her.
“It’s beneath the pipes. He went down to the
garage and opened up a section there. That’s when he saw it.”
“Well, at least the mold isn’t in your apartment. That’s one piece of good news.” He rose.
“How come you know about stuff like that? I wouldn’t have thought matchmakers dealt much with plumbing problems.”
He grinned. “Ex-matchmaker. And you wouldn’t believe the things I had to do for some of my more demanding clients.” He winked at her, fairly oozing with boyish charm. “How was the leak even discovered?”
“One of the neighbors I share the garage with found some wet spots on his car and alerted me. Since I’m on the floor right above the garage, he figured it had to come from my place. None of the two floors above me have any water damage.”
“Hmm.” Eros crouched down again and gave the pipes beneath the floorboard an assessing look, before looking up at her. “Can you get me a wrench please? I want to check something before I have my buddy come out and let him know what to do.”
“Sure. Give me a sec.” Psyche marched into the hallway and dug through a box on the kitchen counter. When she found what she was looking for, she headed back into the bedroom and handed the tool to Eros.
“Well, let’s see then,” he said and went to work.
She heard the wrench connect with the pipe, making clanking sounds, but she couldn’t see clearly what Eros was trying to do, because his body obstructed her view. Instead, she ran her eyes over him, noticing how his muscles flexed under his T-shirt. She’d always loved a man who took care of his body.
Her ex-boyfriend, Wayne, had worked out a great deal. Unfortunately that had been the only thing he’d done with his day. Work had been a four-letter word to him. He’d always claimed that he couldn’t find the right job that would utilize all his skills. She’d often wondered what skills he was referring to. And while he claimed to be looking for a job, he’d been mooching off her. At the beginning, she’d believed him, believed he was honestly trying, but as time went by, she’d caught him in more and more lies, until one day she’d unexpectedly come home during the day, having forgotten her checkbook at home, and had walked in on Wayne and the upstairs neighbor having sex. In Psyche’s bed!
That had been the last straw. At the time she’d been living in a month-to-month rental, and she’d given her notice and moved out immediately, staying in a sublet while she searched for a new permanent place. She’d finally found it a few months ago when she’d bought this condo. It had been a steal, and her mortgage payment was way less than what her rent would have been. But now it seemed like bad luck was determined to follow her no matter where she went. At least this time it wasn’t a cheating lazy-ass boyfriend she had to deal with, but only a broken pipe.
“Fuck!” Eros’s curse tore her from her thoughts as water suddenly gushed into the air like a fountain, drenching Eros, who was trying to cover the pipe with his bare hands—and only making it worse. “Didn’t that idiot plumber turn off the water?”
Water dripped off his face as he looked around for a way to stop the water flow.
“What can I do?” Psyche asked, panicked.
“Turn off the water main!” Eros shouted just as water started gushing from another spot in the pipe, this time hitting Psyche square in the face and the torso.
She huffed and puffed, ducking sideways to get out of the water’s spray, but the damage was already done. Her T-shirt was soaked.
“The water main,” Eros repeated, blocking one hole in the pipe with his right hand while attempting to cover the other with his left.
“I don’t know where it is,” she said.
He lifted one hand, pointing toward the bathroom, allowing more water to splash high in the air only to rain down on him. “Either underneath the sink or behind the toilet.”
She ran out of the room, sliding on the slick floor, but caught herself on the doorframe, before rushing into the bathroom. She ripped the cabinet under the sink open and rummaged through the supplies stacked there, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor to get to the back of the cabinet. “What’s it look like?” she yelled, looking at the drain of the sink.
“Like a faucet,” came Eros’s reply.
“Nothing!” she cursed and turned around. Already crouched down, she lunged for the toilet and peered behind it. Part of the wall had been removed, and there were several pipes sticking out where the wall had been before. One of them sported a tap.
“Found it!” She turned it until it went no further. Panting, she plopped back on her heels and peered through the studs into the bedroom. The water had stopped gushing, but Eros was still hunched over the pipes. “It’s off.”
She watched Eros sit up and look down at himself. His T-shirt was pasted to his torso, his hair was dripping wet, and his shorts were just as soaked. Involuntarily, she had to laugh.
He met her eyes through the missing drywall. “What’s so funny?”
“You look like the day I met you in Triton’s garden.”
He tipped his chin up, a grin forming on his lips. “So do you.”
She looked down at herself and realized that her shirt was practically transparent. Embarrassed, she jumped up onto her feet and grabbed a towel from the cupboard, wrapping it around her. Then she reached for a second one and walked to the bedroom.
She froze in the doorframe. Eros was pulling his wet T-shirt over his head, revealing an immaculate chest with very little hair, not an ounce of fat, and strong pectorals. His stomach muscles formed a perfect six-pack, and a thin line of dark hair ran down the middle of it and disappeared in his shorts. Psyche’s mouth went dry. She’d never seen such physical perfection in any man.
“Is that for me?” Eros pointed to the towel she was still holding in her hand.
Startled, she stumbled forward a few paces and handed it to him.
“Sorry about that,” he said as he started to dry himself off. “But normally a plumber turns off the main when there’s a leak.”
She barely heard his explanation, her eyes still drawn to his naked torso and flexing muscles as he proceeded to dry himself with the towel, seemingly oblivious to the performance he was giving. He was comfortable with his body, entirely confident in his skin. And why shouldn’t he be? He had to know what he looked like: utterly mouthwatering.
“Psyche?”
She ripped her eyes away from his naked torso. “Yeah, that plumber, huh? I guess he’s not any better than the first one, right?”
“I should’ve checked before I looked at the pipes and pulled some of the temporary tape off to look at the extent of the damage. Sorry about that.” He grinned at her like a mischievous boy. “Looks like whenever you and I get together, we get wet, huh?” He hung the towel he’d used over the doorknob of the closet, then grabbed his T-shirt from the floor and walked toward her.
She stood there, paralyzed. Why was he coming toward her? Her pulse started to race.
“Mind if I throw this in the dryer for a minute?” He lifted the hand holding his T-shirt as he stood only a foot away from her. Close enough for her to reach out and run her fingers over his smooth skin.
Damn it! She was lusting after a gay man. This was bad.
Quickly, Psyche stepped out of his way. “No problem. Dryer’s in the bathroom.”
Eros smiled at her as he squeezed past her. “Thanks.” Then he looked over his shoulder and ran his eyes over her, hesitating for a moment, before he turned away abruptly. “You might want to get changed.”
Her cheeks flushed, even though there was no reason for it. After all, Eros wasn’t looking at her the way she’d looked at him. The fact that he might have caught glimpses of her bra underneath her shirt shouldn’t bother her. She probably looked no more tantalizing to him than his sister would, if he even had a sister.
13
Eros had spent the night away from home. After the incident at Psyche’s condo where he’d once again gotten a view of her in a wet T-shirt, fleeing his own home was all he could do to keep himself from doing something stupid—like kis
sing her. He knew what that would lead to: they’d land in bed, they’d start dating, and before he knew it she’d wiggle her way into his heart, before dumping him for somebody else. Just like Gloria had done.
After all, the stars were aligned perfectly: Psyche was beautiful and desirable. She was a damsel in distress (and he was a sucker for helping women out of their predicaments), and he’d noticed the looks she gave him. She was willing. But he couldn’t allow it. Too much of it reminded him of Gloria.
She, too, had been in dire straits. He’d made her problems go away and fallen in love with her in the process. What he hadn’t known was that while she was dating him, she was also seeing another man—another man with money and status. Gloria had been a plain gold digger, professing her love to two different men, doling out sexual favors that would make any man or god believe that she was sincere, that her love was boundless. But it had all been an act to attract the biggest catch.
Only, Gloria had made a mistake. She’d assumed that the mortal man she was dating was the richer of the two, because he had a habit of throwing around with money, showing off his wealth, while Eros was less flashy. Cautioned by Zeus many times not to arouse mortals’ suspicions, Eros’s life on the mortal plain was understated. While his house in Charleston was large and in a good neighborhood, it wasn’t ostentatious. He always dressed casually and, apart from a cute little convertible car, he had no status symbols. No Rolex watch, no Gucci shoes.
He’d been about to confess to Gloria that he was a god and that he wanted to marry her, when he’d heard her voice on the other side of a booth in a restaurant. She’d told her mortal lover the same things she always whispered into Eros’s ear.
“You’re the light of my life. Without you, I would wither away inside.”
He felt like throwing up now. It was a rehearsed line. She’d probably read it somewhere.
A second later her lover had asked her to marry him, and she’d accepted. Hoping against all hope that maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been her voice after all, Eros had gotten up and walked around the partition.