CHAPTER SIX
Phoebe leaned against the steering wheel and peered out her windshield. She was parked three houses down from Ash's brown-shingled home. It was much larger than she'd envisioned, with a nice-sized front porch and a nicely manicured yard. There was one vehicle parked in the driveway--an older model pickup truck.
She wasn't expected for another fifteen minutes. The final leg of her journey had been a lot smoother than she'd anticipated. She was spending these last few moments gathering herself before she knocked on his front door.
He'd wired money to pay for her lodging and gas during the four-day cross-country trip. She'd tried to decline it, but he had insisted on paying her expenses, since he was unable to help her with the driving. In spite of that, it wasn't too late for her to back out.
Phoebe could turn right around and drive back to Indiana. She could return to Dana's apartment and plop right down on the couch until they were all kicked out. She would even pay him back the money he fronted. Her meager savings would take a hit, but at least she wouldn't be beholden to him.
She was terrified. What if this man was a serial killer? What if his aunt really wasn't his aunt, and they were planning to make her their sex slave? Phoebe searched for her phone and checked there was enough battery juice for her to call the police if necessary. Then she tapped her phone against her thigh before tossing it onto the passenger seat.
"What the fuck did I do?" she said, dropping her forehead against the wheel. During her long drive, she had thought about nothing else but this position. She was being offered a really good opportunity, one that would not only provide her a place to stay, but also fund her entire education. She would only have to marry him and stay together for the next five years.
It's not like she was dating anyone. There was no other marriage prospect on the horizon. And it was a temporary arrangement. One that would allow her some level of security. But, was she ready to give up being single just so her education was paid?
She turned the ignition. She drew in a slow breath, then shifted into drive. Within seconds, she pulled into Ash's driveway and parked.
"It's just five years." She opened her car door and stepped out. "Paid housing." She took a step. "Health insurance. Dental. Vision." She took another step, bringing her to the bottom of the porch. She placed her hand on the railing and took one step before the door opened. Her heart flopped in her chest as she dropped her foot and waited for Ash to emerge.
In the week since their first phone conversation, they had talked nearly every day. She'd offered to chat via video, but he had declined. He'd said he wanted to be surprised upon meeting her. She'd agreed; it wasn't as if she was marrying him for love or lust anyway, so what would it matter what he looked like?
She adjusted the shoulders of her jacket, then rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans. But what if he cared about her looks? What if he took one look at her and closed the front door of his house? It wasn't like she could force him to keep his promise.
Lowering her head, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and waited for him to speak. When he didn't, she took a deep breath and raised her eyes.
Staring back at her was an older woman dressed in a denim jacket with leather pants and brown tortoiseshell glasses. Her weight was braced against a cane, and her gleaming eyes were shooting daggers at Phoebe.
Phoebe forced a smile. She waved and climbed another step. "Hello. You must be Regina? I'm Phoebe. Your new..." Her voice faltered. She and Ash had had long conversations about Reggie, but he had never mentioned whether Reggie was aware of their marital arrangement. Phoebe walked up the remaining steps and stood beside her new client.
She towered over Reggie by a good five inches, which wasn't saying much considering she was five-foot-six. They stood silently as they studied each other.
Phoebe immediately recognized that Reggie's short size was misleading. The small woman exuded confidence and intelligence, even though she looked angry and exhausted. Her garishly dyed red hair was cut short, and she had double piercings in both ears.
"I'm Phoebe," she said again, extending her hand. "I'm here to help your nephew. Ashley."
Reggie craned her neck to get a good view of Phoebe's face. "I know my nephew's name." The left side of Reggie's face barely moved, causing her words to be slurred. She looked down at Phoebe's hand, then turned away to stare at Phoebe's car. "Does that piece of shit belong to you?"
Phoebe recoiled a step. She looked at her car. "You mean the blue hatchback? Yeah. It's mine." She grinned, hoping she revealed every single one of her pearly whites. "Bought and paid for."
"Its metal is probably worth more than the car." Reggie twisted her body and pointed back down the street. "You were parked out there a long time."
Phoebe straightened. She didn't think anyone would notice her out on the street. "I got here a bit early and thought I would take a few minutes to gather my thoughts."
Reggie turned her green eyes towards Phoebe. "Regretting your decision already, huh?"
Phoebe didn't know how to take her question. Did that mean she was aware of the agreement between Phoebe and her nephew? "It was a long drive, and I just needed a moment to myself."
"Bullshit," Reggie muttered.
"God dammit, Reggie!" yelled Ash from inside the house. Phoebe felt her heart flutter upon recognizing his deep voice. "Would it kill you to be polite?"
Phoebe craned her neck to peer inside, but the room was too dimly lit for her to see him. She reached out to take Reggie's arm and was immediately smacked on the hand for her efforts.
"Hey," said Phoebe, withdrawing her hand. She looked at Reggie's outraged face and realized her mistake. She hadn't asked Reggie if she needed her help, instead she'd assumed that she did. "I'm sorry. I guess that's just second nature." She pointed towards the open door. "Would you like my help to go back inside?"
Reggie rolled her eyes. She shifted her weight until she faced the door. Then she planted her cane down and shuffled through the doorway.
Phoebe stuck her hands into her jacket pockets, shot a final glance at her “piece of shit car”, and then stepped into the house. The living room was lit by natural light. French vanilla scented the air, and she heard the sound of pans banging away in the kitchen.
"I'm back here, Phoebe," called out Ash.
She swung around and followed the loud noises. When she entered the kitchen, she found Ash kneeling down beside the oven with a bright orange oven mitt on his hand.
"Take a seat," he said, pointing towards a tall bar stool.
She did as he ordered, sitting down and folding her hands on top of the counter. In silence, she watched as he removed a baking sheet of sugar cookies and placed them on the stove. With his back to her, she felt emboldened enough to look.
He was tall, perhaps six-foot-two or six-foot-three, with broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and long legs. His hair was the color of French Roast coffee; his skin was tanned even though she noticed a few freckles at the back of his neck. He wore a green checkered shirt, dark denim jeans, and a pair of black and white Chuck Taylors.
"I've been craving cookies lately," Ash said with his back still turned towards her. He was sliding a spatula under the cookies and placing them onto a serving plate. "I guess it's the stress. Over the last month, I've gained five pounds. Mostly from eating sweets." He lifted the plate from the counter and finally turned to face her.
A wide grin split his face, revealing twin dimples in his cheeks. His dark brown lashes were long and curly, contrasting with his bright, amber eyes. His bottom lip was fuller than his top lip, but it only highlighted his perfectly aligned teeth. The man was gorgeous and, judging from the gleam in his eye, he knew it.
"Would you like a cup of coffee?" he asked, placing the cookies down. He plucked one from the plate, lifted it to his lips, and bit into it. He continued to grin as Phoebe watched him chew and swallow his treat.
Realizing she was gawking at him, Phoebe blinked a few times, then dropped her gaze to the plate of cookies. She took one and broke it in half. She could feel his eyes on her as she nibbled at its edges.
"Good?" he asked.
She nodded, looking up. "Your recipe?"
His brows lifted, and he walked to the stove where he raised an empty wrapper. "Nope. Fresh from the fridge section of the commissary." He laughed. "I'm passing fair when it comes to cooking. I've truly excelled at making spaghetti, frozen pizzas, and sandwiches. I'm still working on scrambling eggs properly."
"I'm sure your eggs are just fine."
"You say that now." He grimaced, took a step back, and rubbed the back of his neck. "You'll be singing a different tune later." He rubbed his hand against his chest, then offered it to her. "By the way, I'm Ash. Your new fiancé."