Bewitching You

chapter Nine



“Always remember that I love you, okay?” Hayes showed himself to Rachel as he stood over the bed. His gorgeous body was still bare of any clothes. Just the way she liked him.

Rachel was ecstatic to actually see him. While they’d been making love, she’d blindly felt every inch of him. She’d had nothing but memories to sustain her.

“I love you too.” She sat up and wrapped the sheet around her. “Do you have to go?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry. Your mom is on the way up, and I have to check on some things with Gray.”

“Can you come back?” Rachel sounded desperate even to her own ears, but she didn’t care. She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left her for good.

“I want to, more than you know, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

“But—” The doorbell rang.

“I’ll try, but don’t be sad if I can’t. You’ll find true love. I promise.” He began to fade. “I love you, Rachel.”

Then he was gone, before Rachel could tell him he’d be the only true love in her life. Before she could promise he’d be the last man to ever touch her body. She was certain of it. There’d be no other man. Ever.

The doorbell rang again, and Rachel threw on a robe. Her mother was the last person on heaven and Earth she wanted to talk to, but she needed to get this over with.

“Hi, Mom,” Rachel said, opening the door.

“Oh, wonderful. You’ve been crying,” Nora said, looking exasperated. “What can I expect this means?”

Not in the mood for a drawn out lecture, Rachel proceeded to what she thought really mattered to her mother. “I’ll repay you for the wedding. The dress, the flowers, everything. Don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty, dear. We can work this out.” Nora pulled a lock of stiff auburn hair away from her Botox-enhanced forehead. “What is it? Is he having cold feet? Men always do that before a wedding. It’s practically required.”

“The wedding’s not going to happen, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s a mere few days away. To cancel now would be a crime against social etiquette. Now, you know better than that, don’t you, dear? Think about all the people you’ll disappoint.”

Rachel’s head throbbed. “I need to be alone, Mom. Could you please leave?”

“Here.” Nora reached into her handbag and pulled out an envelope. “Show him these. He’ll change his mind.”

Rachel took the envelope. Anything to get the woman to leave. Stepping forward she backed her mom out into the hallway then clutched the doorknob.

“I’ll wait for your answer. Don’t fret, dear. He’ll come around.”

Rachel shut and locked the door after her mother left. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Better yet, why did she naturally assume it was Gray who was stopping the wedding? That he was the one with cold feet? She paced the living room until she remembered the envelope in her hand.

Probably was a bill from Olga the German dressmaking-monger. She opened it and pulled out two airline tickets with a sticky note attached. For your honeymoon! was written in her mother’s handwriting, and right under it read I already made reservations at Hotel Le Bristol. Grayson will love it!

“Oh, Lord. Does she ever stop?”

Two tickets to Paris. Rachel hoped they were refundable, because how in the world would she pay her parents back for this? On top of the wedding that was not going to happen?

~ * ~

Gray followed Sofia out to her little blue hatchback. The paint was peeling, and one of the headlights was dislocated, hanging on by a few wires. The car had to be at least twenty years old. A literal death trap. Shit.

The driver’s door creaked out a nasty sound as she hefted it open.

Hell, if he was going to get in a car like this, then he wanted to be in control. “Why don’t you let me drive?” he suggested. “I know where my car is parked.”

She tilted her head, smiling. “No. I’ll drive. Just tell me where to go.” She sank down in the driver’s seat, happy as can be.

“I don’t mind at all.” He bent over her and checked out the interior. Warped. Springs sticking out of the upholstery. No detectable airbags. And no shoulder straps on the seatbelts.

Seriously?

She shoved him away. “You’re not one of those guys who’s uncomfortable with women drivers, are you?”

“Me?” He tsked. “Not at all.” F*ck. Apparently having no other choice, he walked around the death-mobile and got in on the passenger side.

Her eyes twinkled with triumph as she gave him a sweet, innocent smile and started the engine. It died right away. Of course. What else would he have expected from this thing? She tried it again. Same thing.

“Crap. What’s wrong with my baby?” She ran her fingers over the dashboard.

“Your baby? This thing is older than you are.”

“No wonder he won’t start—with all the negative energy vibes you’re sending out.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

She laughed and slapped his thigh. “Had you scared after seeing all that voodoo stuff in the shed, huh?”

The woman needed to be spanked. By him. “Why don’t you pop the hood? I’ll check it out.”

“You are such the manly-man today, aren’t you?”

Gray grunted overdramatically, and she laughed again.

He couldn’t hold back a chuckle at how easy it was to make her laugh.

At the front of the car, he pulled the latch and lifted the hood. Surprisingly, it was pretty clean. The belts were all intact. The battery looked new. There didn’t appear to be any fluids leaking anywhere.

Sofia stepped beside him. “See anything wrong?”

“Not yet. Did you have it serviced recently?”

“I have a friend who helps me out with that stuff. We do favors for each other all the time.”

“A friend? Favors?” He didn’t like the sound of that at all. Some a*shole was probably trying to get in her pants. Before Gray could.

“Yeah, favors.” She winked, swatted his butt, and laughed again. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It is funny, actually.” Her hands planted on her curvy hips. “My friend’s name is Madeleine. I paint pretty pictures for her apartment, and she keeps my car in tune.”

“Oh.” So he wasn’t scoring any points in the charming department. What was new? He stuck his head under the hood again and poked around at a few things. “So you paint?” he asked, evidently too late. He turned to see Sofia walking up the porch steps and into the house.

Fantastic job, Gray. Way to woo the lady. Oh, well. At least he could attempt to fix her car and get out of her hair. For now, anyway.

~ * ~

After fixing lunch, Sofia peeked out the window. “He’s still at it, Sam.” She looked down at the cat who lazily purred at her feet. “I have a strange feeling you’ll be sleeping with a hunk again tonight, you little traitor.”

Sam sashayed through Sofia’s legs and dashed out of the kitchen.

Gray had been working on her car all morning, only taking water and bathroom breaks. The poor man had to be exhausted and hungry.

“Hey, lunch is ready,” she called out the window, and let the curtains fall.

Seconds later he walked through the door and into the kitchen. His hair was a mess and grease was smeared on his hands and t-shirt. He heaved out a breath, looking like he was ready to blow a gasket.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with that car. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugged one shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t get it. I’m not a certified mechanic or anything, but usually I can at least diagnose the problem. And as far as I can tell, there is absolutely nothing stopping that engine from turning over. You sure that battery is new?”

“Madeleine replaced it a month ago. Look, don’t worry about it.” Not able to help herself, she lifted to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

His face softened and he reached out to touch her, but then glanced down at his filthy hands. “I look like a disaster, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do.” She smiled. “Wash up at the sink. I made sandwiches.”

“I think I’ll need a fire hose to get all this off me.”

“Worry about that after you eat. You have to be hungry.” She poured him some lemonade and set it on the table by his plate while he cleaned up.

June Cleaver would be proud. Sofia had prepared club sandwiches with all the fixings on toasted white bread. And they didn’t look too awful.

He sat down opposite her and eyed his plate. “Sofia, this looks really good. Thanks for making it.”

“No problem at all.” She waved a hand as if it had been a cinch.

“I was worried you were going to be mad about the car. I know you want to get me out of your hair.”

“You probably don’t want to be stuck here in the country, either. Right?”

“I don’t mind at all, actually.” He smiled and bit into his sandwich.

“Right. Because there’s so much to do in a house with no electricity.”

“I could think of a few things we could do.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and took another bite.

Sofia’s cheeks warmed.

“I’m kidding you.”

She shrugged. “I know.”

“How do you suppose we find a way out of here? I don’t want to leave you stranded either. You know, I could walk down to my car to see if it decided to start working again. Stranger things have happened.”

“How far is it?”

“About a mile, I think. Not too far.”

“I see.” An unexpected rush of panic swept over Sofia. What if his car did work? What if he left and she never saw him again? What if she were throwing away her only chance at love? Her head told her it was best to let him go, to see if he’d come back to her. Her heart was a little more selfish. A lot more worried.

“I think maybe you’ve had a little too much sun today,” she said.

“You think?”

“Yeah. You probably want to shower and rest for a bit, don’t you?” Boy, was she going to regret this.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“No. I mean, we can put our heads together and figure something out. There’s probably not a good chance that your car would work anyway, right?”

“Probably not.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

Sofia released a breath.

~ * ~

The sound of the shower ran through the pipes of the old house as Sofia dried the dishes she’d washed. She wanted to kick herself for being weak. And smile while she was at it. The idea of spending another evening with him soothed something deep inside of her. A need that ached to be quenched.

Anyway, the evening might be fun if she could just keep a lid on her never-ending desire to rip his clothes off and lick that deliciously shadowed line curving down his abdomen.

She waved a hand at her red-hot cheeks. Dropping her glazed over gaze, she caught a glimpse of a yellow mark on her shirt.

Mustard. Ugh. Why did she have to be so clumsy?

She pulled the shirt over her head and rinsed the mark off in the sink before it could set in anymore than it already had. Now she needed another new shirt to wear. Great.

The water had stopped running and she heard his footsteps cross the upstairs hallway to the guestroom. Quickly, she ran upstairs to Nana’s room and rummaged for a shirt that didn’t have any sort of print or silly slogan on it whatsoever. She found a teal tank top that she thought brought out the color in her eyes and slipped it over her head.

She hadn’t exactly packed clothes to impress. Not that she needed to impress, but still. It wouldn’t hurt to boost her confidence around the Adonis who used to make out with his Aphrodite fiancée.

She ran a brush through her hair and changed into panties that were a little less granny style. Again, just for the confidence boost. Her white skirt still appeared intact, amazingly, so she walked out into the hallway to make her reappearance.

Only, it was too quiet. There weren’t any footsteps or creaking stairs or anything at all. He still had to be in his room because she hadn’t seen him walk back down the hall while she was dressing. She tiptoed to the guest bedroom and peeked in to see his lengthy body splayed out on the bed. His eyes were closed. Sleeping? A towel wrapped around his waist, and his head rested on his hands. He must have been exhausted.

The way he lay there reminded Sofia of a dream. In it, he’d been freshly showered and stretched out on the bed next to her. She’d been bold and tugged his towel off him. His body was amazing, every part of it. She’d been craving him, as she did in all the dreams, and she’d leaned over and run her tongue over his hard—

Sam ran past her and jumped up on the bed, interrupting her fantasy, er, thoughts.

“Hey,” Gray said in a sleepy voice.

“Hey. I was just…checking on you.” Picturing him naked was more like it.

“Sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep.” He shifted to his side and ran his fingers over the cat’s fur. The towel gaped open at the slit, exposing more of his muscled thigh.

Sofia tried not to look. “That’s okay. Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Why don’t you lie down with me?” He shifted his hand from the cat to the mattress beside him and patted the bed.

Her entire body warmed as she picked at a flaky piece of paint on the doorframe. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Just a nap, I swear. I’ll probably want to hold you, but that’s it.”

Sofia’s heartbeat galloped as her mind put out a vacant sign. As luck would have it, her courage disappeared as well. “I have to go do something,” she mumbled, and hurried downstairs.

~ * ~

Gray woke to the sound of silence. Country life was so peaceful. He could definitely get used to this. The clock on the wall said it was a quarter after seven in the evening. Could that be right?

That was one hell of a nap. Too bad Sofia hadn’t joined him.

He stretched and set his feet down on the floor, thinking how nice it was going to be to spend more time with her. The way things had transpired with both their cars had frustrated him, but he wasn’t going to let it get to him. He wouldn’t question the strange happenings that continued to draw him to Sofia.

And like Sofia, he wanted to keep a positive attitude, letting life take its course. He was going to drop the whole “life plan” crap and be in the moment. Forget about wanting to have control over everything that happened around him. What had that gotten him anyway?

Nothing but grief. Why not take things in stride?

Keep them simple, uncomplicated, enjoyable.

Hell, maybe he could show Sofia that he really wasn’t a bad guy.

First, he had to find his clothes. He thought he’d dropped them by the bed alongside his shoes, which were sitting by themselves. He checked the bathroom, but they weren’t in there.

Sofia wasn’t in her room. Maybe she’d know what happened to them. He tightened the towel around his waist and descended the creaky stairs to find her fast asleep on the tiny, antique-looking sofa in the living room. A radio that closely resembled the one Gray had owned in the eighth grade was playing a soft jazz tune on the floor in front of the sofa.

He pushed it aside and knelt down over her curled-up body. Her head rested on a stiff, tiny pillow. She was stunning, even in her sleep. In a way he hadn’t recognized at first meeting, but he was glad he did now. She had a sweet beauty he ached to touch. Gently, he swept his fingers over her, starting at her painted pink toenails, up her calf, over her curvy thigh, dipped into her waist, along her arms, her neck, and to her kissable soft lips. Her long, thick eyelashes fluttered open as he leaned down to press his lips to her cheek.

“Hi,” she whispered and slowly sat up. “I thought I was dreaming of you.”

The idea that the “dream Gray” got more action than the “real Gray” almost made him jealous. When were these supposed visions of the future going to start kicking in?

She stretched her arms and gave him the once-over. “You’re probably wondering where your clothes are, huh?”

He laughed and leaned in for a quick kiss to her lips.

“Um.” She brought her fingers to her mouth. “I washed them and hung them out on the clothesline.”

“You did that for me?”

“I had to. You were looking pretty hobo.” She smiled her sweet smile.

“Thanks, I think.” He stood. “Out front or back?”

“Side.”

The sun was going down when Gray headed outside in his towel. No neighbors anywhere in sight. Just lots of farmland. Hell, he could even dress out here. His clothes were hanging by clothespins from the single line that hung from the trunk of one large elm to another. He pulled on his t-shirt and inhaled the breezy, fresh scent of cotton. Then he quickly tugged on his underwear and jeans, which were still a little damp, but at least they didn’t stink or make him look…hobo.

His chances of having Sofia in his bed tonight increased tenfold. “Thank you, Sofia,” he said to himself.

He’d tried to get her there this afternoon, and she’d shied away. Which was a smart move on her part, because no way in hell had he only wanted that to be a nap session.

Not that he would’ve pushed her. Gray wasn’t a man who hard-pressed a woman when she wasn’t ready. Although the way she’d stared at him while he lay in bed led him to believe she’d considered joining him. It wouldn’t be very hard for him to get her to open those curvy little thighs for him. If those dreams and his instincts were right, she was still a virgin. And if that was the case, he’d need to be careful with her.

Oh, hell. He wasn’t doing anything with her if she didn’t have any protection. Why hadn’t that occurred to him until now? Probably because he hadn’t bought a box of condoms since before Rachel.

Damn. It had been way too long.

Gray headed back inside and into the kitchen, only to see her bent over in the refrigerator. Her little mini-skirt hiked up. One more inch, and he could see heaven.

God help him.

“Lunch, I could do,” she said. “Breakfast was a stretch. Supper will need a special visit from my guardian angel, I’m sure.” She turned and kicked the refrigerator shut with her heel.

“Why don’t I cook supper?”

“Huh. You cook?”

“Usually nuking leftovers in the microwave is my specialty, but I could probably throw something together. It couldn’t be that difficult.”

“Couldn’t be that difficult?” She glared up at him through thick, long lashes.

Oops. “Or I could just pour you a glass of wine and tell you how much I appreciate you making me breakfast, lunch and supper, you sexy goddess of the kitchen.”

She quirked up one side of those pink, glossy lips. “Wine would be great.”

Gray poured her a glass as promised and watched her throw a couple of chicken breasts into a frying pan after spraying it thoroughly with cooking spray. She put water to boil in a pot and pulled out a box of mac and cheese.

He stood out of her way, leaning against the butcher block as he poured himself a glass.

Anything to keep his mouth busy so he wouldn’t say something idiotic. He’d always been amazed by the way Hayes could charm women. Hell, he’d charmed the chastity belt right off Rachel.

Gray hadn’t even seen it coming. Little did Hayes know, he’d done Gray a favor.