The whistle was ringing so loudly. “What is that?” I looked at Laurent, my body stiff as a board.
“I don’t know,” he smiled like he was hearing an inside joke that I wasn’t party to in his mind. “Let’s check it out.” He started to walk toward a doorway.
“Are you crazy?” My eyes were wide with fear.
He looked back at me with a maddening look that was sexy as hell. “Yeah I am,” he teased. But he didn’t let up.
Thinking it was better to be with him than alone with a bunch of dead wild creatures, I chased after.
It was dark in this room too, but Laurent tried the light switch. It worked. The kitchen lit right up comfortably. We both laughed. The loud whistle was coming from a water kettle boiling on the stove top.
“That’s so weird,” I murmured as I took the kettle off the hot burner and set it on a cool one. “Who would leave their house with a kettle going?” I turned off the stove.
“And it’s so dark,” he added, seemingly as confused as I was. “Well, it looks like we have the place to ourselves,” he chuckled lightly, looking down at me through his dark lashes.
When he gazed at me like that, I lost track of what I was thinking. But once he turned away and started exploring the space, my body relaxed slightly and I remembered. “We can’t stay here,” I stated with surprise at the thought of it.
“Oh, yes we can and we are.” Looking over at me from across the kitchen, he lifted an eyebrow and ran his fingers through his gorgeous hair.
I so wanted to touch it, even in this creepy house. It looked so soft and lovely.
“Come on,” he said, motioning his head toward the living room.
Not knowing what else to do, I followed him. He picked up the candle, obviously for my sake only and led me up a stairway. At the top there were three rooms, two of which had locked doors. We entered the one that was unlocked. He flipped the light switch and it lit up to a beautiful country style bedroom like something you would see in a movie.
“Ah, French decor,” he sighed. “Now, I know why Josette recommended this.” He touched the floral wallpaper and walked over to the French windows that framed a magnificent ocean view.
The queen size bed was done up so nicely with fine fabrics and Tiffany lamps on either sides. “Where are we going to sleep?” I questioned. “There is only one bed.” Secretly, I hoped we slept together.
“You’ll sleep there,” he smiled wryly as he pointed at the luxurious bed. “And I’ll sleep in the bathroom.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. What guy chooses the bathroom over the girl?
“Come on.” He motioned me into his bedroom.
When we stepped into the toilet room, my eyes widened. “Wow!”
He looked at me and nodded his head. “Not too bad, eh?”
“That’s an understatement. It’s beautiful.” The bathroom was large with pale yellow wallpaper and white trim. There were lots of white wood cabinets and a scenic window set before the huge Jacuzzi tub that was lined with unlit candles of the most pleasant scents.
He turned to me and stared directly into my eyes. Electricity shot through my body. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking as he held his gaze. His teeth started to clench, but he shook his head like he was waking from a dream. “You wait here,” he said suddenly. “I have to fish.”
He rushed out of the bathroom as I followed him and then out the bedroom. “Lock the door,” he commanded. “And don’t let anyone in.”
And he was gone just like that. I walked over to the huge French windows and looked out at the beach. In seconds, I saw Laurent rushing into the ocean. He dove under a wave and he was gone.
Uneasiness set over me. I had no idea when Laurent would return. And what if the owners of the house came back? Considering how they decorated their living room, they were probably strange people. I wouldn’t feel comfortable explaining to them that we took a room without asking or paying for that matter. Would they even rent to minors?
I decided to take a shower. Maybe some cool water would settle my nerves. I slipped off my pale yellow sundress and hung it on the door. The shower was set off from the Jacuzzi on the other side of the bathroom. It was refreshing letting the water run over my face and body. I washed my hair with a luxurious vanilla shampoo that smelled delicious. The body wash was of the same scent. It lathered up well enough for me to shave my legs too. I nicked myself a little with the new razor but the blood washed away.
When I got out, I felt so clean and fresh. I was used to using cheap shampoos and this was a fantastic treat. The white towel was so soft and fluffy. I was glad that I wore my yellow dress today because somehow it seemed just right for a beach getaway at a country inn.
Once I was dressed with my hair combed through, I went back to the bedroom to look for food. I was hungry. I found a small refrigerator off set in a corner of the room. There was an array of mini hard liquor bottles lined up in slots. I wasn’t a drinker, so I skipped those. But the sparkling waters and chocolates looked tasty so I took some.
I sat at a white wooden table by the French windows which I opened and then dined on my treats. There was a nice breeze coming off the sea that was somewhat comforting to the anxiety I was experiencing as I waited for Laurent. The sun was setting on the ocean giving the sky a red glow. But as the sun lowered, the sky grew dark blue. I remembered that song Laurent sang to me: “Come to me in the blue hour. When the ocean blends with the sky. Come to me in the blue hour. Your flesh is sweet. You are a dream. Come to me in the blue hour…” My body shivered.
I lay down upon the bed. The pillows were fluffy and cool, but my unease didn’t let up. I wanted to call my parents to tell them that I was okay, that I didn’t mean to get mad at them this morning. I wanted to tell them that I loved them. And Lucy—I wanted to talk to my little sister. I wanted to hear about her day. I wanted to throw her on my back and run around with her like a wild girl while she laughed. And Agatha—she would be all alone tomorrow at school. She would be worried to death about me.
I got out of bed and started to pace. My thoughts were driving me crazy. What if Laurent didn’t come back? I didn’t even know how to get home from here. And if I left, Sabine would find me and murder me just like she and her school killed Mandy.
But Laurent would come back. I knew he would, but what if he got hurt? My thoughts tortured me. I just had to be patient and wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.
I must have dosed off because I woke up with a woman with a long drawn face standing beside the bed staring at me quizzically. “Hey there, little missy.” Her voice cackled as she spoke, most likely a smoker. “You want to pay for the room?”
“Oh.” I set up startled.
She was dangling the room keys before my face.
I rubbed my eyes as I tried to figure out what to say. “When we got here, nobody was home,” I babbled, not knowing if I was even speaking coherently.
“That power outage set us batty and Pa and me made it to the station for parts. A waste of time.” She shook her head and dusted off her apron. “When we come in, our electrical was working regular. Was it dark when you come?” Her eyes squinted and her jaw jutted out.
“Uh, yeah.” I scooted to the edge of the bed and let my legs hang down the side. “My husband had to go out, but when he returns, he’ll pay you.”
The lady smiled, making lots of wrinkles on the sides of her middle aged face. “Come down for dinner then,” she insisted.
“With you?” I asked, feeling entirely awkward and out of sorts. I had never been to a bed and breakfast or even a hotel for that matter.
She laughed a dry throaty sound and walked out of the room locking the door behind her.
I didn’t know what to do. It was late by now. The clock showed that it was after seven. My parents would be worrying soon. I felt a sickened feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I thought about walking down those stairs, through that creepy living room with all the animals, and into the kit
chen to eat dinner with a couple of weirdoes. The idea was unsettling to say the least. But I was starved. Even stuffed bear was sounding appetizing at this point. I decided to take a chance and just go for it.
The living room was scary even with the lights on. Every animal looked like it was ready to attack even a stuffed owl perched on the ceiling beams. Who in the world would want to live like this?
When I got to the kitchen, the woman’s middle aged husband was slicing a roast at the table while she stirred a black kettle pot of beans and potatoes. Sitting down at the table was a tall lanky man in his twenties and a very old woman who looked like she was half dead.
“Howdy,” the woman’s husband said to me cheerily. “Welcome.”
“Thank you,” I responded somewhat hesitantly.
“I’m Willy and my wife is Erma.” His wife waved her fingers without looking up from the stew where she hunched over. “And these are our renters, Bob and Juanita.”
“Hey, there,” Bob said in a dreary voice. He looked depressed. “I hope you enjoy your stay. Willy and Erm are great.”
“Thanks there boy.” Willy slapped Bob on the back and his thin body sort of flew forward unexpectedly.
Juanita just sat there nodding with a smile on her ancient face. She was mumbling something that sounded religious, but I could hardly hear her.
Erma carried the big black pot of stew and crashed it down on the table in the center. Some of it sloshed out, but she just left it there.
Bob stood up and held a seat out for me between him and Juanita. I sat down wishing we could get on with the meal so I could leave this freak show.
Everybody folded hands except for me. Willy said a dinner prayer with lots of unexpected hallelujahs. And then the meal began. I was surprised. The food was fantastic and I don’t think it was just because I was starving. It was seasoned exceptionally well.
“So where you from?” Willy asked me.
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want anyone to get suspicious if they saw pictures of me on TV that I was missing from Santa Monica. “My husband is from France. We’ve been living in Paris for some time.”
Nobody seemed to know anything about France, so their questions were simple and easy to answer.
“Lots of wine there, eh?” Willy asked.
“Yes, the vineyards are beautiful.”
“What college do you go to?” Bob mumbled as he picked at his food.
I shrugged. “I work at a donut shop on a country road just off the highway.” I tried to eat fast before I made up too many lies. I was afraid to say too much before setting a plan with Laurent. Suspicions could rise, if Laurent’s stories didn’t match up.”
“You have to teach me how to make them donuts,” Erma said with a mouthful of food.
“Oh, yeah—great idea.” I stood up quickly realizing if I taught her how to cook, I’d probably burn down her house. Good job, Grace. Couldn’t you have picked a career that didn’t involve cooking?
I took a hundred bucks that I found in Laurent’s wallet out. “I’m not sure when my husband will be back, so I want to pay for tonight.”
Willy hopped up. “That’s great. It’s sixty five for the night.” I handed him the hundred and he gave me change from his wallet. “Thank you, dear. We hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Thanks.” I rushed away startled by a stuffed lion beside the stairs.
When I got back to our room, I was delighted to see Laurent relaxing on top of the bed. His hair was wet and from the vanilla scent lifting off his body, I could tell that he showered.
“I didn’t see you come in.” I had a big smile on my face. “I gave the landlords sixty five dollars from your wallet for the night. Is that okay?”
“Perfect.” His smile matched mine. “I was hoping you’d do that.”
“Here’s the change.” I set it down on the night stand next to the bed. “How did you get in here? I didn’t see you come in through the front door.”
His smile turned mischievous. “Climbed up the wall and came in through the French windows.” With that odd explanation, he lifted his shirt.
I couldn’t help but blush. His body was perfect, a golden tan with developed muscles and definition in all the right places. “You want me to swoon,” I mumbled sarcastically. “Is that why you are showing me your washboard stomach?”
He knitted his eyebrows together. Apparently, he wasn’t trying to show off. “I just wanted to show you how I climbed up to our room.”
“Oh!” I laughed and walked over to him hesitantly.
“Look right here.” He touched his lower abs just above the waistband of his shorts.
I leaned in slightly, feeling embarrassed.
He rubbed his finger upwards over his skin. “Under this flap are suctions.”
My eyes widened in shock. I looked closer.
Without rubbing, his skin looked like any other hot and physically fit teenage boy’s with a mesmerizing tan, but when he dragged his finger over it, the surface lifted and sure enough there were many small suctions all the way across the lower section of his stomach. It was truly amazing.
“I can maneuver my way up anything with these.” He was holding the skin back. Then he looked at me. “You can touch them if you want. I’m starting to gain better self control around you. The more I’m with you, the better I get. And I just ate, so I won’t hurt you.”
I tried to run my finger over the small suctions, but they grabbed me. In surprise, I tried to move back, but my finger was stuck.
He chuckled softly. “It’s okay.” He was watching the expressions on my face. “I don’t want to let you go—that’s why you remain attached, but if I override my will, I can release you.” His eyes were smoldering as he gazed at me.
I placed my other hand on the suctions and they grabbed me again. We were attached. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
He smiled at my surprise and then he released me.
I was disappointed; I didn’t want him to let me go.
When I looked at him, his expression was mysterious. “I’ve never showed anyone those.”
“I won’t tell, if you don’t,” I teased, trying to hide my utter infatuation.
“It’s still difficult for me to be around you,” he said darkly. “I feel an overwhelming draw to you that I have never felt around anyone in my entire life.”
“Why me?” I asked, baffled.
His eyes narrowed. “There is something about the rhythms of your inner body that confuse me. I feel the pounding of your heartbeat in the air. The vibrations seem stronger than other humans. Usually I smell other people and sense their location from their frequencies. But, with you, the frequency is much stronger, pounding against my own inner being. If they are like dripping water, you are like a waterfall. And your scent is mouth watering. It overwhelms me.”
I was stunned; I couldn’t respond. Nobody had ever talked about me like that. I felt the blood rising to my face.
“I feel the change in your body now,” he whispered with his eyes closed. “Your blood is pulsating. The feeling is intense.” He opened his eyes and looked at me softly.
“I experience something different,” I said, “…but for me it is an electrical current between us. It is almost like a light force rushes through my body while in your presence.” I blushed even redder at my admittance.
He shifted his position. “I felt that too. I fear losing control.”
I touched his hand lightly.
He started to retreat, but moved back to the original position. “The rushing of blood through your veins…” he murmured. “The sensation is difficult to describe.”
I ran my hand lightly over his arm. His skin had a slightly smoother, more elastic quality than that of a human. He tensed. The muscles raised beneath the surface, but he held his position. “I don’t want to cause you discomfort,” I whispered.
He nodded. “I’m okay.” His body relaxed slightly. “Can I touch your hair?” He asked in his rhythmi
c voice.
“My hair?” I sounded surprised.
“Your hair is beautiful,” he murmured as he placed his hand lightly at my forehead and ran it slowly down my locks.”
I caught my breath and he did the same movement again, running his hand from the top of my head down my hair. I wanted to hold him and pull him to me, but instinctually, I knew he needed to get used to me. I couldn’t move so fast.
I placed my hand on his chest. “There it is,” I spoke just above a whisper. “Your heartbeat. I can feel it racing.” The rhythm was much faster than I had expected. It excited me.
Now he set his hand lightly above my chest. “You can’t know what this feels like.” His nostrils started to flare, but then relaxed. He pulled his hand away and shook his head side to side.
His expression was unreadable. “Let’s watch TV,” he suggested as he motioned me to sit on the other side of the bed.
“Okay,” I mumbled, trying to hide my disappointment. As much as I didn’t want to worry, I was afraid I did something wrong. I sat down on the far edge, propping a pillow up to lean against. My heart was pounding fast in my chest feeling the electricity between us even though there was a considerable distance apart now.
He started flipping through the channels. A soft breeze blew through the window. I felt the fine hairs lifting on my arms. It was so hard not to touch him, so difficult keeping the rhythms of my breath steady.
“Do you like documentaries?” He pointed the remote at the television to change the channel.
I half laughed. “That’s practically all I watch.” I thought of my dad and how much he must be worrying about me by now. That was enough of a distraction to steady my breathing, but I felt emotional.
When he turned on the same documentary about ancient Greece that my father and I had just watched, a tear ran down my cheek.
Laurent looked over at me. His nose flared suddenly and his jaw clenched. “Saltwater,” he whispered as he jumped off the bed. His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. And then to my utter shock, he jumped on me, straddling my body with his legs and licked the tear off my face. In a flash he was gone. He disappeared from the room.
Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel) Page 15