I was finding it hard to deal with silence. “Do you have horses?” I asked.
“One. Stable two for my neighbors in exchange for them feeding, watering and exercising mine when I’m in town which is most of the time,” he replied in a way that didn’t invite further questions.
He walked right up to the house hand wrapped around mine and opened the unlocked door.
“You don’t lock your house?” I asked, shocked. Vance, security expert, didn’t lock his own house. He was in the middle of nowhere but stil .
“Got nothin’ to steal,” he said.
We walked in and he flipped on a light and with one look around I realized he was right. He indeed had nothing to steal.
He dropped my hand, closed the door and walked through the house, leaving me at the door and disappearing down a dark hal . Then a light came on from there.
I looked around more, came forward and took my blazer off, wrapping it around the back of a chair.
It could be cute, his cabin, definitely cozy. The wal s were made of wel -sealed logs. The floors were wood with some rugs thrown over them, mostly multi-colored and braided, not tatty but not designer-cabin-chic either. The front room was one biggish room incorporating the dining room, living room and kitchen. There was a big stone hearth on the side wal of the living room, a smal er one on the opposite side, next to the dining table.
To the right was the living room. He had a couch, over it thrown a colorful Native American blanket. A coffee table in front, cluttered with books, some opened and placed face down, some stacked even on the floor and under the table.
A floor lamp made of a twisted branch was beside the couch, buffalos dancing across the shade. The back of a beat up leather armchair faced the dining room/kitchen area.
And that was it. No television, no stereo, no pictures, nothing.
The kitchen was a u-shape, back and side wal s had top and bottom cabinets, a counter delineating it from the dining area with only bottom cabinets. The cabinets were made of a fantastic knotty-pine. They’d look great refinished and with a gleam to them especial y if granite or concrete counter tops replaced the old worn brown one he had. A coffeemaker and a toaster were the only things on the counter except for a stack of mail. The dining area held an old, round, oak four-seater. Like everything else it was in good condition but worn, maybe bought secondhand because it was old enough to pre-date Vance’s ownership and too worn for stuff that had little use if he wasn’t home very often.
Vance came back into the room and I looked at him.
He stopped in the entryway to the hal and leaned a shoulder against it, eyes on me.
“If you don’t stay here very often, where do you stay when you’re in town?” I’d asked out of curiosity not able to help myself mostly because I wanted to know.
It wasn’t a good decision.
He stayed silent for a beat after my question then his face changed and not in a good way.
“You wanna talk now?” he asked, voice low. “Get to know me a little better?”
Um.
Not good.
Someone was not in a happy mood.
“Crowe, I’m just trying to make conversation,” I said quietly, deciding not to spit in the eye of the tiger at this juncture.
He pushed away from the wal and started toward me. “I don’t wanna have a conversation. I wanna fuck.” My body prepared to flee but my mind stopped it and I held my ground. “I’m beginning to hate it when you say it like that,” I said sharply.
I didn’t real y hate it, not before. It was kind of a turn on.
But I did hate it now especial y the way he just said it which was not nice.
He stopped in front of me and just at the edge of my space. The whole time he approached me, his eyes were on mine.
“I work when I’m in town. If I need to sleep, I sleep on the couch in the down room. If I need to shower, I use the shower there. I keep clothes in my locker. A lot of the time I’m out hunting and not in town at al . I come up here when I have time off which isn’t very often,” he answered my question.
“Why do you work so much?” I asked but wished I hadn’t.
Again I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted to know.
“It’s what I do,” he replied.
“But why?”
He stared at me a second, leaned forward and took my hand. “Question time is over.”
Oh crap.
Then he turned and pul ed me across the room and down the hal .
It was undignified to struggle especial y in high heels and a little black dress. So I didn’t but my bel y flutter, coupled with the stomach twist, made me feel a little queasy.