CHAPTER FOUR
I couldn't wait to get back to the townhouse on Tuesday. I practically ran up the back steps when I got there. I gritted my teeth and growled in frustration when I discovered that the door was still locked. I knocked and waited. And waited. And waited.
I heard slight rustling behind the door. He was standing close, probably just on the other side.
“Grayson.” I smiled. “I know you’re there.”
Nothing.
“Thank you for the ticket.” I waited. Still nothing.
Frustrated, I sighed loudly. “I just thought you should know I signed up for a class on breaking and entering. They teach how to pick locks. Yeah, they focus on breaking into banks and sneaking up on naked, unsuspecting men.”
Nothing. Okay. After that wisecrack, he probably thought I was nuts. I gave it another minute and then plodded back down the steps. I walked into the main room and my gaze immediately flew to the sign on the door. It was different. I strode to the door and stood in front of it. He’d added ‘N'T’ to the ‘DO’ so that the sign now read: DON’T ENTER.
Wiseass!
I snickered loudly and shifted my weight onto one foot. At least we were communicating. Well, kind of. Hmmm….
I went to my bag then came back and wielded my black Sharpie, then stood back and smiled. There!
I’d brazenly put a line through all the words and written:
JUST OPEN UP ALREADY!
I was never one to beat around the bush.
The sign stayed like that for two days. On Thursday when I came back, I noticed something strange about my oasis. On the small table was a tall paper cup I knew I hadn’t left there. I touched it, then frowned, surprised to find it hot. I pulled open the lid. Coffee. Gasping, I took a quick sip and smiled.
My gaze alighted on the sign as I turned toward the door. There were so many words with lines through them that I had to get closer to make any sense of it, but I could tell there’d been a change. I stood in front of the door, still holding my coffee, feeling the warmth of it in my palm.
All the words I’d written with my black Sharpie were crossed out. All except one: OPEN.
I drew in a sharp breath, not really believing my eyes. My hand moved to the knob. I turned it and the door opened.
Oh, God… My head swiveled back to the main room and I gulped. As I climbed the stairs, I thought about what Charles had said about Grayson not being well. Should I be afraid? There were many emotions scuttling around inside me. Oddly enough, fear was not one of them. Nervous excitement and a strange exhilaration filled my belly like a swarm of humming bees.
The stairs spilled into the wide hall and my knees locked stiff when I saw him. He was waiting for me, leaning his wide shoulders casually against a wall. He was a lot bigger than I’d remembered him from the alley. He looked tall and solid and something warmed inside me. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of faded blue jeans that rode low on his hips and a worn V-neck T-shirt hugged his chest.
His hair hung in long loose waves, the uneven edges just shy of his shoulders. The dark locks were streaked through at the temples with thin brush strokes of silver. He had chiseled cheekbones and lips that looked delicious. His bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top, shapely and enticing. My breath quickened as I raised my gaze to his eyes. They were the same as in the portrait, the same sparkling blue I’d stared into for weeks. Stunning. In fact, his face was the same, except aged with lines that made him look distinguished and handsome. He gazed at me with slightly raised brows. His blue eyes were cautiously guarded—suspicious.
“Thanks for the invitation up,” I laughed lightly, nervously. “Guess I won’t need that lock-picking class after all.”
“You can always use it for robbing banks.”
I chuckled, but his expression remained shielded. We stood quiet for a minute. God! For weeks I’d wanted to talk to him. Now jitters were breeding under my skin like sand flies. Another moment ticked by, and flustered, I thrust the cup of coffee in his direction.
“Thanks. It’s really good. Hazelnut is my favorite. And—and thanks again for the ticket. I love Maroon 5. I didn’t think I’d be able to go.”
He stared quietly and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, fighting the urge to step closer. A strange giddiness scrambled my thoughts and made me light headed.
“I figured since I’m working downstairs, I should introduce myself. I’m Angie, but—but you probably already know that since you’ve been following me. And thanks for what you did for me on Friday night. You saved me. I don’t know what would’ve happened had you not been there. Oh, and about the other day… I’m so sorry I spied on you. I hadn’t intended to. It’s just that… that I saw you and… I… I couldn’t help myself.”
My eyes widened at the implication. “I mean, I’m not a pervert or anything. I don’t usually go around spying on naked men. Really, I don’t—not that I mind doing it. It’s just always been consensual when I’ve done it.”
Oh God…what the hell was I saying? Change subject. Now!
“I’ll try not to bother you while I’m working downstairs. I promise. I’ve been trying to be as quiet as possible, well…” I lowered my lids, “except for the times I yelled through your door and banged on it repeatedly. But I’d just wanted to say thanks.”
I pushed the words out as one sloppy verbal run-on…Ugh! I was rambling. I sighed apologetically.
“I’m sorry. I’m going on and on. You must think I’m crazy.”
I gasped. Had I just said that? “Not that there’s anything wrong with being crazy! I have lots of friends who are crazy! In fact, I think the whole world is crazy!”
I looked away, biting my tongue. Anything to get the damn thing to quit wagging.
Dear God, please create a hole big enough to swallow me up right now.
I was mortified. Here was my chance to finally talk to this man, and I was making a total ass of myself. I’d probably just insulted him in a million different of ways.
I chanced a look at him through my lashes. He’d remained remarkably quiet throughout my bout of verbal diarrhea. His expression was still cautious, but something like a smile played on his lips and the fine lines at the corner of his eyes crinkled.
He pushed off of the wall and folded his arms across his broad chest. He was tall. Maybe just over six feet. I had to adjust the trajectory of my gaze.
“You already said thank you in your note.”
I noticed he didn’t mention the drawings.
“I thought a thank you note was a bit impersonal. I wanted to do it in person.”
A skeptical brow shot up.
“Okay…maybe not so impersonal,” I muttered, my face growing hot.
“You’re welcome.” He turned to leave.
“Wait!” I said quickly. He angled back to me with the same brow raised. I shifted my gaze around the hall, not ready to end our conversation.
“Since I’m cleaning up downstairs. Maybe I can clean out some stuff up here, too.”
“I like it the way it is.” His voice was suddenly harder.
Oh. Okay. I frowned.
“Then maybe just a little dusting.”
“No.”
“How about I just straighten up the books on the floor? Are the books downstairs yours, too? You must love to read.”
He turned to me fully and sighed heavily, his tolerance obviously waning.
“Don’t you have some cleaning to do downstairs?”
I pursed my lips, a little piqued at his quick dismissal. What a charmer.
“I would vacuum, but the vacuum cleaner broke.”
“I disabled it.”
“What?” Had I heard him correctly?
“I disabled it.”
“Why?” I frowned, perplexed.
“The noise. It bothers me,” he said simply. “Drives me crazy.”
He raised his finger and twirled it in circles next to his head.
I couldn’t tell if he was simply mocking me or if he was serious. Finally his lips tilted up in a small smile. He shook his head and regarded me like I was a giant inkblot. That stingy smile made warm honey pour through my veins and a sweet longing settled low in my belly.
“I think you should go. I have work to do,” he said.“Work?” What could he possibly be working on up here? Obviously, not the decor.
“Yes,” he said patiently. “I work on my computer.”
“Oh.”
“Goodbye, Angie.” He turned to leave again.
An idea suddenly popped into my head.
“Um…I could use your help with something.” I called after him and he stopped again and pivoted.
His brow lifted, but he didn’t look eager to hear what I had to say.
“I have a table downstairs that needs assembling.” I laughed lightly when he frowned. “It’s the least you could do for breaking my vacuum.” I couldn’t believe I was being so pushy, but I knew that as soon as I left, the door would be locked again.
“It’s not broken. It’s disabled. There’s a difference.”
I stared back at him, wondering if he was talking about more than the vacuum.
“Okay,” I intoned slowly.
His blue eyes locked on me for a moment, his gaze scanning my face, evaluating, judging.
He didn’t trust me. I could tell.
“I’m really not good with stuff like that. All thumbs.” I put my hands up and wiggled the digits in question. I grinned, trying to tear my gaze away from his handsome face. I was sure that staring at him like he was a yummy dessert with all the toppings wasn't helping my case. “I’m bound to lose a limb or something…or take out an eye…sever an artery…”
Shoving his hands back into his pockets, he sighed, seeming to have come to some decision.
“bust a gut…stump a—” I continued slowly.
“Fine.”
Huh? “Great.” The way he’d looked at me, I didn’t think he’d agree to help me. He probably just wanted to shut me up.
I turned and headed back down the steps with a secret smile tickling my lips. Grayson was behind me and my skin prickled in response to his nearness. I led him to the table pieces I’d already dragged to my oasis. Immediately, he sat down on the floor and, without a word, he got started. I walked over to the debris where I’d found the table and started picking around, noisily knocking over an umbrella stand in the process. Oops! He stopped working and looked over at me.
I grinned apologetically.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for the instructions.”
“Don’t need them.”
“Says every man.” I dusted off my hands and returned to where he was sitting.
A beam of sunlight cut through the dark waves of his hair, highlighting the side of his face and the slope of a broad shoulder. I tried not to stare, but was enthralled with the way it kissed the angles of his face and caressed the curve of his shoulder with glowing affection. I was very aware of his presence, the way his muscles flexed as he moved, the determined tilt of his head, and the even rhythm of his breathing as he worked diligently on the table.
I felt as if there was static electricity charging the air between us and wondered if he felt it too. I thought of the gorgeous body I’d seen naked, and immediately, my nipples drew tight and my breath hitched, locking high in my throat. An erotic image filled my head. I imagined his fingers strangling his thick shaft along with the gritty drag of his moan when he came. Arousal flickered through me and I bit back a groan. His long, dark lashes lifted and he caught me staring.
Blushing, I swung my gaze away, looking for an escape from my naughty thoughts. My sight darted to the pieces of wood and metal laid out in front of him, then it focused on the screws…no, no…not the screws! Don’t think about screws…screw…screwing! My train of thought was shot. Shit, how long had it been since I’d had sex? Six months? It was amazing how my body reacted to him.
I cleared my throat and tried to concentrate, certain I was losing my mind. “You sure you don’t want me to look for instructions?”
“Don’t need them,” he repeated without looking up.
“Well, okay.” I plopped on the floor across from him, awareness still buzzing through me. I cocked my head and looked at him, watching his long fingers work.
“But if I end up with a one legged table or a three legged chair, you’ll have to answer to me.”
He didn’t respond. He kept his head down, but I noticed a hint of a smile curve up his beautiful lips and I forgot to breathe again.
The following day, I arrived at the house later than usual. I’d had a morning class and then had to complete a few tutorials in the anatomy lab. Spring Break was in two weeks and I couldn’t wait. I relished the thought of a whole week off from school.
Jenny was going to be away and I’d promised Anna that she could spend a few days with me at my apartment. I groaned now with regret. Anna had hammered away at me at her birthday celebration. She always loved coming into the city and being away from the scrutiny of our parents, but she could be a handful.
I walked into the townhouse and a slow smile claimed my lips when I saw a cup of coffee waiting on the perfectly constructed table. The coffee was cold and I realized Grayson must have set it there this morning. I remembered seeing a microwave in the large kitchen and headed in that direction with my cup. I wondered if he waited for my arrival every day, if he looked forward to seeing me today as I did him.
I laughed at myself. Considering how I seemed to annoy him, I seriously doubted that. He most likely eagerly awaited my departure from this house so he could reclaim his solitude.
I heated my coffee and made my way back to the other room. Stopping at my oasis, I let my gaze roam the remaining debris. There was still a significant amount of junk in the room. Despite my best efforts over the past several weeks, it seemed I’d only made a small dent in the rubbish. There was a giant crate sitting in front of a row of elbow-high, neatly stacked books. It was stamped on the side and postmarked from Australia.
I’d found many interesting things from around the world while clearing out the room. Too bad most of them were in such shabby condition. I wondered if Grayson was the one who’d traveled the world and collected all these things. If I could empty the crate, I’d be able to access the books more easily. I made my way to it and set my coffee on the floor. It’s weight was tremendous, and after several unsuccessful attempts, I gave up trying to move it. There was no way I could lift it by myself.
Walking back to my table, I thought about what Charles had said about the heavy items in the room and getting me help. I took a sip of my coffee, feeling the warm liquid slide down my throat and heat my body. Hmm. A much better idea blossomed, and I smiled mischievously. Seriously, why would I need to bother Charles when I had a very able-bodied man right upstairs? I tried hard not to think of his body or its potential abilities. Plus, I’d rather not deal with Charles’ lecherous stares, or his whole I’m-God’s-gift-to-women attitude.
My head swiveled to the door that still had the ‘open’ sign taped to it and with a deep breath, I headed up to the second floor. I called out loudly from the top of the stairs, not wanting to intrude again on a private moment, although I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that the thought of seeing Grayson naked was immensely appealing and set my heart aflutter.
I peeked into the room with the mismatched furniture and saw him sitting at the desk with his back to me, his fingers flying fast over the computer keyboard. I stood in the doorway, my hands on my hips. Had he not heard me calling? And what was he doing on the computer? Was it the work he’d alluded to?
I cleared my throat. His hands stopped instantly, and he swiveled in his chair to face me. He looked delectable in a wrinkled blue button down shirt that matched his eyes.
“Hi,” I gave a small wave.
He just stared at me with one eyebrow raised.
“Um…thanks for the coffee,” I smiled brightly.
He speared his fingers through his thick waves, pushing the long hair back from his face. He didn’t look surprised to see me.
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“It was very sweet of you.”
Was that an eye roll? I should know. I was the ‘eye roll queen’.
“Well,” I forged ahead, “I need your help. I’m having trouble moving a crate. It’s too heavy for me to move alone.”
“You seem to be rather helpless lately,” he tossed out as he stood, but again, I saw a hint of a smile on his lips.
I shrugged and looked away, trying to hide my own smile and the excitement he stirred inside me. “What can I say, I’m a damsel in distress.”
Would he catch me if I swooned? No, I had a feeling I’d just bust my ass on the floor.
His brows pleated skeptically as his long legs brought him to stand directly in front of me. I had to brace myself. His nearness was overwhelming, like walking out my front door into an explosion of morning sunshine. Beautiful. Warm. Filled with promise. Yet sometimes I needed sunglasses from its intensity.
There was something about Grayson that went beyond the physical, something magnetic that drew me in. Why he affected me this way? I didn’t know. But now, this ray of sunshine was frowning as he stared down at me, his eyes like cloudy blue skies. He was wondering what I was up to, I knew. He was trying to figure me out. I smiled, then held up my hands and wiggled my thumbs.
“I wouldn’t want to hurt myself. Certified klutz, remember? All thumbs?”
“Right.” He pursed his lips as he took off down the stairs. I followed, checking out the view from the rear. Nice. Downstairs, I indicated the crate and he tested its weight. It took the two of us to hoist it over and settle it on the floor next to the table.
It had an old lock on it that had almost rusted through. I chewed my lip, wondering how I’d get it open. It was already partially loose so I figured that some hammering might open it easily.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a hammer, would you?” I asked, my gaze shifting around the room looking for something heavy.
“You? Wielding a hammer? Miss ‘All thumbs’?” He asked, incredulous, already shaking his head.
That made me smile. “Wait here,” I ordered, an idea sprouting.
His sigh was almost palpable, but he stayed rooted as I sprinted through the dusty book maze to the front door. Outside, I grabbed a large rock and made my way back into the house. When I got back to the crate, he was gone. I gritted my teeth in frustration. This man!
Trying to get Grayson to spend time with me was like trying to nail jello to a tree. Frustrating…I looked down at the stains on my shirt that had rubbed off from the dirty crate…and messy.
I’d hoped he’d give me a hand, that I could talk to him some more, maybe find out why he sequestered himself upstairs. Perhaps he went to look for a hammer. It was most likely he’d ditched me and went back upstairs to work.
“I guess I’ll just have to do this all by myself!” I directed my voice at the closed door to the stairs. I started pounding the lock with the stone, getting annoyed when it wasn’t opening.
“I hope the sight of blood doesn’t bother you! You might want to keep a phone handy to call nine-one-one if I pulverize a finger! Or lose a limb!”
Frustrated now, I started banging my side against the top of the crate, hoping to budge the loose top. “Or break a hip!” I yelled as I bent over the crate and started pounding again. My ponytail kept falling into my face and I batted it away. I was starting to work up a sweat.
I mumbled a series of curses under my breath when the stone started to crumble, raining gravel on the floor and my sneakers. I could see the floor through my legs, and my oaths trailed off as Grayson’s feet came into view between them. I turned to a smirk edging up his lips as he dangled a key from his fingers.
“You’re making a mess,” he said, nodding to the crumbled stone on the floor.
Seriously? Look around. I bit my lip.
I sighed and ignored his comment, making sure my frustration was evident. I knew he was teasing me again.
“You think you could’ve told me you had a key before I risked life and limb?”
“I wasn’t sure I still had it.” His lips quirked as I reached out and plucked it from his hand. “Plus, it was amusing witnessing your creativity.”
“Glad I could entertain you,” I rolled my eyes, but when I turned to open the crate, a grin broke out across my face.
At least I amused him. That was better than annoy, right?
I opened the lid and started unpacking the items that were wrapped tightly in yellowed newspaper.
“I think you’re out of danger now. It appears that all of your limbs are intact. I have to get back to work.”
I turned, biting back a snarky reply. My fingers were wrapped around a beautiful ceramic plate and I held it up to him, angling it so that light filtered through glass in a dazzling rainbow. “Did you collect all these beautiful things?”
He stared for a silent heartbeat, and I didn’t think he’d answer. Finally he said, “My father. He was a collector.”
I nodded. That explained all the things in the room. “These are from Australia?” I asked, pulling more items from the crate. I handed him a heavy object to unwrap.
“We went there when I was fifteen,” he offered cautiously. “My dad liked to visit the galleries. He liked to collect local treasures.”
“Were these made by the locals?”
He nodded. “These were made by Bendigo potters in a wood fired kiln. They’ve been doing it for over one hundred and fifty years.”
“They’re gorgeous.” I examined what looked like an ornate preserving jar.
I watched him unwrap the jug I’d given him and place it on the table. His long fingers gently caressed the floral pattern before he turned and regarded me, his head tilted and his eyes narrowed.
“You’re really interested?”
I nodded, surprised that he’d ask. The craftsmanship of the items was impeccable. I wanted to know more. I was also curious about the man in front of me. The way he handled the items clearly showed they meant something to him. Why were they so neglected?
“I’ve never traveled outside of the United States. I find this stuff fascinating.” I admitted, pulling another item from the crate
“We traveled extensively. My parents would sometimes take me out of school.”
I snorted. “My dad would never do that, even if we had the money to actually go somewhere.”
“You never took vacations?” He focused on me, his stare intense.
I shook my head. “We never had much, just enough for the essentials. My dad was—is—a strong advocate of education. I even went to school during the summer.” I smiled. “I’m the first one in my family to go to college—and now grad school.”
“They must be very proud of you.”
I nodded. “What was it like, traveling with your parents? It must have been cool collecting all this stuff.”
I watched his chest rise and fall with a deep, quiet breath.
“I suppose it was a different kind of education. My dad was obsessed with preserving humanity. His plan was to build an ark where he could store his treasures. He was convinced that the world would soon come to an end.”
I studied his face, trying to tell if he was joking, if his dad really believed that. By the look in his eyes, though, I could tell he was serious. But that had been a long time ago.
“What does he think now?”
His pause was barely perceptible. “He’s dead.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered lamely. I listened as he continued, not really knowing what else to say.
“He thought that each country would be eventually swallowed up by the ocean and we’d lose pieces of human history.”
Grayson stood quietly, deep in thought as if reliving a memory. His expression was unreadable but there was a remote bleakness on his face indicating that his thoughts had turned inward.
“Like Atlantis.” I smiled weakly.
He blinked back to the present. His beautiful lips pulled in a half smile as his blue eyes met mine. “Like Atlantis.”
It took us two hours to empty the crate. We fell into a routine, me handing him objects to unwrap and him giving them back to me to sort. Unfortunately, many of the pieces we unearthed were broken or chipped. There were a few objects that I was able to pack into a smaller box for him to keep. He told me about each item I pulled out: it’s function, how it was crafted by hand on a wheel, then fired to perfection in an ancient furnace. He didn’t mention needing to return to his work even once, and I was happy to have this stolen time with him.
I took a break for half an hour and pulled out my text books, sitting at the table in my oasis. At one point, I looked up and found Grayson quietly regarding me, his expression masked. His gaze caused a shock of warmth to travel through my body, perhaps it was because I hadn’t expected it. He was so reserved, always holding back. My reclusive hero was an enigma. He did the most wonderful things for me, yet blocked every attempt I made to get close to him.
Every moment I spent with him, every piece of information I’d extracted was like a rare gem I’d stolen from a treasure chest. We stared at each other for a few heart beats, his blue gaze locked on mine. A ribbon of warmth coiled between us, a gentle spiral of emotion that sharpened an ache in my chest. Then with a frown, he abruptly lowered his lids and looked away, severing the connection.
I smiled to myself and returned my attention to my textbook, thinking that he was the strangest, most perplexing man I’d ever known.