Excerpt
Heavy footsteps roused me from my stupor. I don’t know how long exactly I’d
been sitting in the bathtub, staring off at nothing, pondering the catastrophe my life
had become. Couldn’t have been too long since sunlight still lit the room.
The footsteps came closer and closer. And then they entered the room. Oh,
shit. I froze, not even daring to breathe. There was a loud yawn, followed by the
cracking of joints. Then a large hand reached in beside the closed shower curtain
and turned on the tap. A torrent of ice cold water poured down. It was like a billion
itty-bitty knives stabbing at my skin. All of the scratches and raw patches from
earlier stung like shit. I gritted my teeth, shoulders hiked up to around my ears as if
that would provide any protection.
Yep, I sat there, all huddled up, listening to the man take a leak.
Awesome. Just plain awesome.
Wasn’t like I could jump out and interrupt the man midflow. And say what? I
knew this was not a good situation to get caught in.
1. I’d basically broken into this guy’s house.
2. And had then gone on making myself right at home, having a messy
emotional breakdown in his bathtub.
Normal, rational people didn’t do this sort of thing. I didn’t even have a
criminal record, had never particularly done anything outlandish or interesting until
now. This was all Chris’s fault, the bastard. I’d just have to make the best of it and
hope this guy had a sense of humor.
Just as the water began to warm, he flushed the john and freezing cold water
drenched me anew. I’d been about to open my mouth and announce my presence,
but that put an end to that. Needles of icy cold water pelted down on my skin. I
fucking froze. Teeth gritted, I suppressed a squeal of pain and rage.
Then the shower curtain flew back.
“Shit!” The man was very tall, very naked, and very surprised. He stumbled
back a step, a hand clutching at the bench behind him, eyes furious and wide.
“What the hell?”
Good question.
I opened my mouth, closed it. Language skills had apparently abandoned me.
In total silence, the man and I stared at each other.
Even with no clothing to take cues from, the dude was clearly the epitome of
cool. He looked about my age, or maybe a little older. He had longish red-blond
hair, dark blue eyes set in an angular face, a lean but muscular torso covered in
tattoos, and a rather large cock. Not that I meant to check him out, it’s just kind of
hard to ignore a penis and scrotum when they’re dangling right in front of your
face. I tilted my head, trying to get some perspective. Every viewpoint, however,
was equally shocking. There was dick as far as the eye could see.
And I should stop ogling him. Right.
“Hi.” With a calm I didn’t even vaguely feel, I reached up and turned off the
tap. Much better. His monster penis had momentarily derailed me, but I was back
on track now. Time to talk myself out of this mess. “Hey.”
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” he asked flatly.
“Right. Well . . .” I neatly tucked my dripping-wet shoulder-length blond hair
back behind my ears. As if that would help. My winged eyeliner and false lashes
were probably halfway down my cheeks. “I, um, I . . .”
“You what?”
“I’m Lydia,” I said, the first thing to come to mind.
No reply. His handsome face, however, took on a distinctly pissy expression.
Even his strawberry-blond hair seemed a fiery hue. Fine, so we weren’t swapping
names and getting cozy. Fair enough. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was,
keeping my eyes on his face. The struggle was real. It might have been due to my
not seeing one in so long, but his dick seemed almost hypnotic. The thing had
magical powers, I swear. It was so big and mobile, subtly swaying every time he
moved. My gaze kept darting down despite my best efforts.
Finally he put me out of my misery, grabbing a towel off a nearby rack and
wrapping it around his waist. It made for quite the hot-looking miniskirt. Not just
any man could have pulled off such a look.
But back to my explanations.
“Ah, firstly, I’d just like to say sorry about this.” I waved a hand at him and
his bathroom and, well everything, really. “For any inconvenience I might have
caused here in your bathroom.”
The guy stood tall, looming over me with his hands on hips. Tattoos covered
his arms to his wrists. Still, he had a whole lot of sinew on show. Definitely not the
kind of man you’d want to mess with. Dude could probably snap me in half in a
second. I bet he was a tattoo model, or a biker, or a pirate, or something.
Something a lot hot and more than a little scary.
Shit. I really should have chosen another house.
“I don’t normally break into people’s places and hide out in their tub,” I
babbled, on the verge of incoherency. “So I’m really sorry. Seriously. So very
sorry. But you’ve got a lovely home.”
“That so?”
“Not that, I mean, that’s not why I’m here. I just . . .” Fucking hell, my mind
was a disaster. I took a deep breath, letting it out nice and slow, before trying again.
“I love the old Arts and Crafts bungalows, don’t you? They have such soul.”
His brows drew tight. “Are you high? What the fuck are you on?”
“Nothing!”
“You haven’t been popping any pills or snorting something?”
“No, I swear.”
“Nothing to drink?”
“I haven’t had anything,” I said, but the suspicion and anger still lined his
face. Paired with the stubble on his chin and the shadows beneath his eyes, my
unwilling host was one tired, cranky man. Couldn’t really blame him.
“So you’re completely sober,” he said.
“Completely.”
A pause.
“You’re thinking I’m bat-shit crazy now, aren’t you?” I asked, despite the
answer sitting plain as day on his pretty face.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Oh, god. “I’m not. I’m sane.”
“You sure about that?” He looked down the long line of his nose at me,
distinctly unimpressed. “Seen a lot of weird shit in my years. Stuff like you
wouldn’t believe. But I got to tell you, right now, this . . . you, are taking the cake.”
“Great.” And I was so definitely probably going to jail. Someone ought to
give me a cookie. My ability to take a bad situation and make it worse today was
amazing.
“You touch any of my stuff?” he asked. “Take anything?”
“Yes, your sofa is cunningly hidden down the front of my dress. You won’t
believe where I fit the TV.”
Again, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Between you and me, probably not
the time to be funny, babe.”
Crap. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. You have every right to be mad.”
“Damn right, I do.”
I nodded, contrite. “I haven’t touched any of your things.”
The dude just stood there, staring. Lots going on behind his eyes. None of
which I could read.
A stray tear trickled down my face. It must have saved itself up just for the
occasion. Gah. How pathetic. I sniffled, brushing it off hurriedly with the back of
my hand.
“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
“I really am sorry about this. The truth is, I just needed somewhere to hide
for a little while. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
He sighed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Lydia?”
“Yes?” Despite my best efforts, my voice trembled slightly.
“Look at me.”
I did so. He still looked cranky and crazy cool while I remained a hot mess.
“I’m Vaughan,” he said.
“Hi.”
He tipped his chin and silence fell between us once more.
With the tip of his tongue rubbing at his upper lip, he looked at the wide open
window, and then back at me. Yep, that’s how I’d gotten in. Houdini had nothing
on my mad skills.
“What are you doing in my house, Lydia? The truth.”
“It’s kind of a long story, actually.” Along with being excruciatingly
embarrassing. But then, what wasn’t about this day?
Vaughan crossed his arms over his wide chest and waited me out while I
fussed with my ruined skirts and tried to come up with a way to spin the story to
not make me look a complete fool. Christ, the holes in my stockings were huge. On
one side, my entire foot stuck out. So screwed.
Vaughan crouched by the side of the tub, resting his arms on the side. Up
close the shadows under his eyes seemed even bigger and darker against his pale
skin. And there were bags big enough to use as carry-ons. Despite the strong lines
of his lean face, the man looked done-in. Ready to sleep for a hundred years.
I knew that feeling.
“Looks like a wedding dress,” he said quietly.
“Yes, it is. I was going to get married today.” I took a deep breath, wiping
my face with my hands. Just as expected, my palms came away smeared with black
eye makeup. “Ah, boy. I must look a wreck.”
Without comment, Vaughan reached out and grabbed a towel, handing it to
me. It was sort of threadbare, old. Dated like the rest of the house. I hadn’t seen
more than one room, but real estate agents got a feel for these sort of things.
Minimal upkeep for the past five or so years would have been my guess. Perhaps
it’d even been left empty. Bushes out front hid the house from view, so I’d never
gotten a good look at it before.
“Thank you.” I patted myself dry with the towel as best I could. What
remained of my beautiful dress was a sopping wet ruin. “I’m sorry I broke into
your house, Vaughan. I swear I don’t normally do this sort of thing.”
“No,” he said, his voice deep. “Figured as much. Where’d you come from?”
“The big house at the back.”
His brow wrinkled. “You climbed over the fence?”
“Yes.”
Tired, red-tinged eyes appraised me anew. “That’s a tall fence. Must have
been one hell of an emergency.”
“It was a disaster.”
For a long moment he studied me, deep in thought. Then he sighed yet again,
climbing to his feet.
“Are you going to call the cops on me?” I asked, my throat tight with
tension. “I know you have every right to, I’m not disputing that. I’d just, I’d like to
know. Mental preparation and all that.”
“No. I’m not.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.” My whole body sagged in relief.
Then he clapped his hands together, startling the crap out of me. “Okay,
Lydia. Here’s what we’re going to do.”
“Yes?”
“I arrived late this morning, have only had a few hours sleep. If I don’t get
some coffee soon, things are going to get ugly. And you probably need to get dried
off.” With no fuss, he held out his hand. “Let’s get shit sorted out. Then we can sit
down and you can tell me the long story of how the hell you ended up in my house.
Agreed?”
“Agreed,” I said, voice lightening.
He pulled me up. Then, with strong hands on my waist, lifted me out of the
tub. Immediately water started dripping off of my saturated dress, pooling on the
scuffed wooden flooring at my feet. Chris would have been distinctly unimpressed.
Chris didn’t like messes. But as Vaughan didn’t seem to care, neither did I.
“You’re really not going to call the police?” I asked.
“No. Hold still,” he said, carefully plucking a fake eyelash from my cheek.
“Thank you.”
“Your dress is kind of fucked.” He looked me over from top to toe.
“I know,” I said sadly.
“I’ll leave you to get changed.”
“Wait. Please. I can’t get out of it on my own.”
More frowning.
“It’s vintage,” I explained with a grim face. “There’s no zip, just a line of little
buttons up the back.”
“’Course there is.” Without another word, he turned me around and got
started in on said buttons. As he worked, he hummed beneath his breath, the song
vaguely familiar.
“Aren’t you still mad?” I asked, perplexed.
“Nuh.”
“But I broke into your house.”
“Window was open.”
“I still trespassed.”
Busy fingers kept working on undoing the dress. “You sat in the tub and
cried because some dickhead fucked you over.”
That shut me up.
“Or that’s what I’m assuming, given the dress and all. I take it he’s the one
that gave you that shiner on your cheek?”
“No. No one hit me. And yes, you assumed right about the being fucked
over.” I tried to look back at him, but I couldn’t see a thing beyond my wild-ass
hair. Impressive how it’d survived the shower. The stylist clearly knew her shit.
“You sure no one hit you?” He did not sound convinced.
“Yes. I lost my grip and hit the floor when I was climbing in the window. My
home invasion skills need work.”
“I’d suggest you try a different career.” He finished with the buttons and
took a step back, scratching his head. “You okay with the dress now?”
“Yes, thank you,” I told his reflection in the mirror. “For everything, I mean.”
“Sure.” He almost smiled and gave a small shake of the head as if he
couldn’t quite believe what was going on. Or maybe it was disbelief that he wasn’t
kicking me straight back out the window through whence I’d come.
Lord knows, it’d shocked the shit out of me.
He turned toward the door. “See you out there.”
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