“It’s perfect, thank you.” Her eyes met his for a moment. She felt like maybe something passed between them, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Do you get up this early every morning?”
“Yep. Usually, I put the TV on and listen to the news while I get ready, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“That’s okay. I like to listen to the news, too. Please don’t change how you live just because I’m here.”
A playful smile lit his face. “Then I’ll have to warn you I enjoy skinny-dipping in the pool and hot tub.”
It felt good to laugh. “That neither surprises nor shocks me. Knock yourself out. Who knows? I might join you some nights.”
“Your company is always welcomed.”
“Thanks.” She walked over to George’s pool and realized the tortoise was still dug in for the night. Carefully, she reached in and got his water dish out, took it into the hall bathroom, and rinsed and refilled it before replacing it in the enclosure. He had plenty of grazing plants, so she didn’t need to supplement his food that morning. She’d give him his romaine that afternoon. After checking everything, she returned to the kitchen and washed her hands with soap and water.
“Can I ask a stupid question?” John started.
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you just do that in the sink here?”
“While I’ve never had a problem, there is a slight risk of salmonella with them. I don’t like to clean his stuff in the kitchen sink. So if you ever see lettuce floating in the toilet bowl, it’s probably because I dumped his old food out before I washed the bowl in the bathroom sink.”
John chuckled. “Thanks for the warning.”
He glanced at the time and picked up his coffee mug. “Well, I have to get ready. If you need anything and can’t find it, feel free to come into my room and holler at me through the bathroom door. And don’t worry about showering at the same time I do. I have a large hot water tank, and the master bath has a self-contained on-demand water heater anyway.”
That was going to be her next question. “I get the feeling we’re going to settle into a comfortable routine fairly fast.”
“I hope so. It’s nice having someone around.” He patted her on the shoulder as he eased past her and headed back down the hall.
The way he’d said it…
No. Don’t read anything into it. He’s a nice guy, yes, but you just went through a breakup. Don’t be an idiot. Don’t go throwing yourself at him.
She sipped her coffee, waiting until she heard his bedroom door shut before painfully shuffling back down the hall to her room.
It wasn’t until she’d closed the bedroom door that she finally processed the fact John had already turned on the lights over George’s enclosure before she ever made it out to the kitchen in the first place.
* * * *
John hoped his morning woody hadn’t been poking at the front of his robe too much. He’d heard Abbey’s door open and barely got himself turned around and facing the counter before she’d walked into the kitchen.
Of course little probably shocks her.
True, but he didn’t want to come off as a raging dick with his raging dick making her rethink her decision to move in with him.
He wasn’t lying. It was nice to have someone else around, even if just as a roommate. Yes, he had some acquaintances, mostly from work, whom he hung out with sometimes. A couple of neighbors were very nice. Scattered friends here and there.
But none of them had known the real him, the hidden part he kept isolated.
For the first time, he had someone in his life who not only knew about that part, but didn’t mind. Hell, didn’t care.
Someone with whom he didn’t have to hide his true self. Someone he didn’t have to worry about finding his toy bag or his fetish clothes. Someone he didn’t have to lie to and say the folded spanking bench buried behind wooden hurricane panels in his garage was actually a sawhorse.
Someone who wouldn’t care if she opened his closet and spotted a tube full of canes, riding crops, and other implements.
It felt freeing, in a way.
After showering and dressing, he returned to the kitchen to eat a yogurt for breakfast and fill his travel mug with coffee. Abbey rejoined him a few minutes later, looking smart in a pair of slacks and a blouse with a blazer.
She cocked her head at him, a playful smile teasing her lips. “Did I ever tell you I have a suit fetish?”
Well, he wasn’t wearing a suit. Today he wore khakis, loafers, a long-sleeved button up shirt, and a tie. Fairly standard. He did have a blazer he’d take with him in case he needed to do an on-camera interview or sit in a meeting with higher-ups, but usually he didn’t need it.
“You do, huh?”
She nodded, that playful smile melting places inside him he hadn’t realized had been frozen over. “You look good.”
“I clean up well.”
“What story are we going to agree to tell the ’nillas about us?” she asked. “About how we ended up living together.”
He shrugged. “I always go for the simplest option. You were a friend thrust into a situation through no fault of your own, I had the space, and you needed a roommate.”
“Works for me.” She headed for the coffeemaker.
“What would you like for dinner tonight, by the way?”
She turned. “You don’t have to cook for me.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. I have to make myself dinner anyway. It’s silly to cook only for one.”
“I’m not picky. I’m not fond of curry, but I’ll eat pretty much anything else. No food allergies.”
“Good. None for me, either. Any other allergies I need to know about?”
“Yeah. I’m allergic to bullshitting ex-boyfriends who claim they love me but are willing to leave without even bothering to see if I’m okay.” She burst into tears.
He froze, processing for a second before stepping over to her and pulling her into his arms.
“Shh, it’s okay. Just let it out.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this, to break down like this. You’ve been so nice to me and here I am blubbering all over you.”
He stroked her hair, which she’d worn loose. She smelled good, flowery something, probably her shampoo, if he had to guess. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath while praying his erection didn’t decide to make a grand entrance.
“Hey, like I said, I’m a fixer. I live to make things right for people. You’re helping me out by being here. I feel useful. Let me be useful, please?”
She relaxed against him, her arms encircling him. A sense of peace settled over him as they stood there. In his mind an image slammed into sharp focus, of him on his knees at her side, her fingers twined in his hair, his cheek resting against her thigh, awaiting her command.
Her voice floated through her mind, of what she’d said. I have a suit fetish.
Aaannnd that was when his cock woke up again.
Shit.
Adjusting position would only make it more obvious, so he hoped she didn’t realize what was going on.
After a few minutes, she finally released him and grabbed a piece of paper towel to blow her nose. That was when he realized she wasn’t wearing any makeup.
Not that she needed any. She was beautiful without it.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded, meeting his gaze. She had beautiful green eyes. “Thank you. I swear I’ll get my emotions under control here in the next few days.”
“Like I said, being helpful is my thing. Hell, it’s my fetish.” That drew a smile from her, warming his heart and twisting his soul. “I’ll wear suits if you’ll let me be helpful.”
Aaannd a full-on smile from her.
Score.
“Deal,” she said, leaning and kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks.”
* * * *
Despite her pain, Abbey’s missing libido had come screaming back to life when she felt the size of John?
??s bulge pressing against her.
Holy crap!
She’d never seen John naked. The few times she’d scened with him, and any other time she’d seen him bottom to someone, he’d always worn a leather jock. He could have been hung like an elephant or a Chihuahua, for all she knew.
Apparently, he swung toward the tripod end of the scale.
Okay, don’t think about that now, stupid.
It felt nice having him comfort her.
It’d felt even nicer knowing he was having that reaction to her, because, hello, he looked damned handsome in his work clothes.
But he didn’t acknowledge it, and neither did she. She wasn’t sure what the protocol was for asking your kinky roommate if they wanted to be play partners—or more—but she knew emotionally that was a conversation she needed to wait on until she wasn’t feeling quite so…emotionally charbroiled.
Rebounding had never been her thing, and she wasn’t about to start now. Whether poor judgment on her part for not seeing the signs with Tom, or just ignorance because he hid things well, she needed to sort all that out in her mind before she even thought about approaching John. At least they had prior play sessions, so it wouldn’t be a totally out-of-the-blue and awkward discussion.
When she finally had it with him.
But not now. It was too soon.
She left the house before he did, earlier than she normally left but unsure of what her morning commute time would be now that she had to take a different route.
As she drove, she thought about what John would look like spread out and tied to a St. Andrew’s cross as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slacks to play with him.
Heellooo.
At least, it would seem, her libido wasn’t as dormant as she’d thought.
Even if there wasn’t anything she could do about it, it was still among the land of the living and not dead on arrival.
Thank god for that.
Chapter Eleven
John’s Monday was the usual crazy mix of weirdness from the weekend, stuff that warranted a report but not a call-out to him or any of the other department heads. Minor shit-happens accidents as well as stupid human mistakes.
He opted to sit in his office for lunch after filling his water bottle from the cooler down the hall. While he ate, he ran a Google search for Russian tortoises. By the end of his lunch break, he’d learned more than he’d ever thought he’d know about the critters, including their diets.
And he now realized how dedicated Abbey was to her pet. She had created an environment for George where he could graze in as natural a way as possible.
He also couldn’t stop replaying the kiss on the cheek she’d given him.
Why am I torturing myself?
Ah, because I’m a masochist. Duh.
He was glad he’d read through the tortoise information, because he usually kept fresh spinach in the fridge for salads, but the information said no to that food. He would have fed it to the tortoise without knowing it was bad for him.
I’m going to have to talk with her and get a list. He wanted to make sure when shopping that he didn’t get George the wrong things.
Dell stopped by his office just after lunch. “How’d the interview go?” John asked. He hadn’t even thought to look for the interview online.
“Thanks for the prep work. It saved my ass.” Dell looked vaguely uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m sorry again about your friend.”
John shrugged. He’d actually done a pretty decent job of keeping his mind off Mick all morning. “Thanks. It happens to all of us eventually.”
“If you need anything…”
That was one of the usual platitudes, wasn’t it? Call me if you need me. Let me know if I can help. Please don’t hesitate…
But people usually didn’t call, and the platitudes were, mostly, issued with full cognizance of that fact, even if only at a subconscious level and with all good intentions at the forefront of people’s minds.
“Thanks,” John said. “I’ll be okay.” Now he couldn’t wait for Dell to leave. All he wanted to do was get back to work, get his mind focused on his job again, and not on Mick.
Hell, if he could just keep it focused on Abbey, or even George, that would be better than thinking about Nancy and her kids’ grief on Saturday. Grief he’d basically bolted from, escaping to Venture.
It’s going to be a long Monday.
* * * *
It would be a long damn Monday for Abbey. Late Friday, someone had tacked on another meeting to Abbey’s calendar and she hadn’t checked her work phone over the weekend to see the alert. It wasn’t something she could slough off, either. Someone who hadn’t realized she was supposed to be on limited work hours had set it up. It would keep her there at the office until nearly four.
Dammit.
She thought about the bottle of painkillers in her purse and knew she had to settle for the over-the-counter stuff for now. By the time she left work, it’d be close to rush hour and the last thing she needed was trying to negotiate heavy traffic with that crap in her system.
A little after lunchtime, her personal cell vibrated with a text message.
From Tom.
I’m in Dallas. Flight went well. Everything okay?
In disbelief she stared at the message. What the unholy hell? How the hell am I supposed to respond to that?
Her thumb hovered over the message, not sure whether to reply or swipe and delete it. Just because he was an asshole didn’t mean she couldn’t be the better person.
I can’t do this right now.
She started to put her phone away when it buzzed again.
This time, it was a text from John.
How are you doing? Are you okay? Using your cane?
She had to cover her mouth with her hand to hold back the soft sob.
Here was a guy she barely knew, but who seemed more concerned for her than a guy who’d claimed to love and care for her for years.
After a couple of deep breaths to get her emotions under control, she replied to John’s text.
Some jerk put a meeting on my calendar late Friday after I left for today. I’m stuck here until 4.
He responded almost immediately.
Will you be okay to drive or do you want me to come pick you up?
If John didn’t stop being such a nice guy, she was going to end up a slobbery puddle of tears right there in her office.
I’ll be okay, tks.
Another reply.
Text me when you leave, and when you get home, if I’m not there already.
Under normal circumstances, it would have rankled her, her natural assumption that he was trying to keep tabs on her.
Except she knew why he was doing that.
He was genuinely concerned about her.
If he didn’t settle down after a few days and relax, she’d have a gentle conversation with him about it. Right now, she suspected Tilly had given him orders to keep a close watch on her and report any problems immediately.
Considering how her friends had all put themselves out on her behalf that weekend, she wasn’t about to respond with snark or bitchiness.
Thank you. I will. :)
And in all honesty, it felt good to have someone genuinely concerned about her for a change.
One more text from John.
:)
That made her smile.
She stared at Tom’s text one last time, opting to respond.
I’m fine.
Then she returned her phone to her purse and got back to work. Tom didn’t deserve any more response than that from her.
He dang sure didn’t deserve her attention.
* * * *
John was still at his desk late Monday afternoon when his personal phone vibrated with an incoming text message from Abbey.
FINALLY on my way home.
He frowned. It was almost five. He wasn’t sure exactly where her office was, but knew the general vicinity and suspected she’d end up hitting nasty traffic sn
arls on the way home. Depending on how his day went, he either got in early and left early enough to beat the worst of the traffic, or he worked late until it’d had a chance to settle down before heading home. Otherwise, he could easily count on an extra thirty or more minutes tacked onto his drive time. Those were minutes better spent clearing e-mails or reviewing reports.
Text me when you get home.
She replied a moment later.
Will do.
Darn it. He’d wanted to try to time his arrival so he could cook her dinner and not make her wait. But he still had a good twenty minutes at least before he could get out of there.
He was in traffic when she texted him that she was home, and was going to take a pain pill and lie down for a little while. Which he thought was a great idea.
By the time he got home it was after six thirty and he was careful not to make a lot of noise coming in the front door. But when he went to drop his laptop case on the couch, he almost let go of it before realizing Abbey was sound asleep on the couch, in a T-shirt and shorts, the evening news playing on the TV.
Aww.
He could have stood there for hours just watching her. She looked vulnerable, sleep at least removing some of the pained, pinched lines from her features.
Now trying to be even quieter, he took his laptop to the bedroom and dumped it on his bed before returning to the kitchen to wash his travel mug and lunch container. Normally, he’d strip naked before making himself dinner.
Not today.
Maybe once they’d lived together for a while and they’d talked about it first and he knew she was comfortable with that.
Today, he left his work clothes on, with the exception that he removed his shoes and socks, before starting dinner. He’d opted for easy, baked chicken breasts and roasted veggies, with a side salad. After getting the chicken in the oven, he walked over to George’s enclosure to check on him.
The tortoise raised his head when he saw John and started toward him.
Something about romaine.
He went to the fridge and found one of the two clear plastic tubs she’d stored in the bottom. On it, written in black permanent marker, it said GEORGE FOOD - ROMAINE. DO NOT EAT. The other was marked similarly, except it said ASSORTED GREENS.