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Chapter 7

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Grayson

Sleeping that night was hard. Mostly because my erection wouldn’t go away, but part of it was because I knew she was so painfully close. I’d said something last night that offended her. No woman got up and walked away like that without being upset at something. I replayed the conversation back in my mind. Was she upset that I’d called her crazy? Oh shit. Was she actually crazy? Had Anton employed some sort of crazy person to take care of his house?

After tossing and turning for three solid hours, I got up to make breakfast. As I scrambled the eggs and fried up some bacon, the sun started to come up. The chirping of crickets morphed into the chirping of birds, and as the smell of coffee permeated the house, I heard a small pair of feet pad down the hallway.

I hoped my surprise guest was hungry, because I had made enough for the both of us.

“Morning,” I said, as her feet hit the tiled floor.

“Mmm,” Michelle said.

“I’ve got pancakes, bacon, eggs, coffee, and—”

I turned around to look at her and I was stunned. She stretched her arms up to the sky, revealing those pleasurably-naked thighs of hers. Her milky skin was dotted with small freckles I hadn’t seen in the dim light of the night before. Her shirt stretched so high I could see the mound of excess that dotted her inner thighs.

Just a little more...

“Smells good in here,” she said, as she dropped her arms.

Fuck.

So close.

“Sit down. I’ll make you a plate,” I said.

Yawning, she ran her fingers through her tousled hair and held her face in her hands. She looked adorable, peeking out at me between her fingers with those green eyes of hers. She flopped down into a chair at the kitchen table, her breasts swinging against her body. I clenched my teeth and willed my cock to stay at bay as I fixed her a plate.

“Food and coffee,” I said.

“Cream and sugar?” she asked.

“Yep. Anton’s got plenty of it.”

“I know. He and I took our coffee in much the same way.”

“Then allow me.”

I dumped enough sugar in it to throw a rat into a comatose state before filling the rest of the mug with creamer. I handed her a spoon to stir everything with, then I watched as she brought it to her mouth and curled those plump, juicy lips around the edge of the mug. She hummed her delight as her eyes fluttered closed, and my cock automatically jumped.

Quickly, I made my way back to the stove to cover the thickness of my growing groin.

“So, I want to apologize,” I said.

“For what?” Michelle asked.

“I was a bitter asshole last night and I sort of took it out on you.”

“Everyone has their moments,” she said.

“I mean, I hate this town. But that doesn’t mean everyone else has to as well. I’m glad you’re able to find some sort of good in this rotten place.”

I filled up my plate before slathering my pancakes in syrup.

“It’s fine,” she said. “I don’t know the town well enough to determine its ripeness just yet. My experience comes from being here maybe four or five months.”

I chuckled as I poured myself a cup of black coffee. I took everything over to the kitchen table and sat down across from her. Putting my napkin in my lap, I picked up my fork, then watched as Michelle practically inhaled her fucking food. She moaned and hummed. Chugged her coffee and licked her lips when a droplet of syrup fell on her skin. Holy shit. She had no issues expressing her pleasure at the food I’d cooked for her.

And it did my cock no favors.

“Wow, this is really good. Sorry,” Michelle said.

“Don’t be. Moans of pleasure are the best compliment a chef can get,” I said with a grin.

Her cheeks flushed that beautiful pink and my cock hardened against the zipper of my jeans. Fuck. I had to find a way for this to stop.

It was going to get in the way of me trying to be nice.

“You’re a better cook than Anton,” she said. “He always burned the bacon.”

“Yeah, and he called it ‘extra crispy’. But I called it tinder for the fireplace.”

“And he was terrible at lasagna,” she said. “Oh my gosh. Did he ever make you that lasagna of his?”

“Yep. One time, and I refused to eat it,” I said.

“Though that man made the best french toast. Oh my—mm! So good.”

“Then maybe I’ll make it for you tomorrow morning and we can see how mine measures up,” I said.

“I loved Anton’s cooking,” she said. “And his mannerisms. He was always so kind and considerate.”

Leaning back, I sipped on my coffee as I watched this strange and beautiful woman begin to open up. Suddenly, she was talking. Pouring out a life story I couldn’t pull from her last night no matter how hard I tried.

And her voice. The way it lilted. It was soothing to my ears.

I liked listening to it.

“I never knew my father,” Michelle said. “But by the way my mother talked about him, he wasn’t any good. And my grandfather? He was a mean old son of a bitch. Barely talked to anyone, but had no issues raising his voice. Anton was the first gentleman I’d ever met. The first man who talked to me without yelling and treated me like his equal instead of, I don’t know. Doing anything else.”

I watched tears well in her eyes again.

“Now, there’s that hole. And I don’t know what to do with it. I only knew Anton for a couple of months. Maybe three. He was the first real friend outside of my prior neighbor that I’d ever met. But he made a huge impact on my life. I owe him so much.”

Prior neighbor.

So, she was homeless. At least, that was how it sounded.

“Anton helped me, too. I guess it was in his nature. He was there during a time in my life when I didn’t feel like I had anyone else, and he took me in. I was angry, and he helped me to toss that anger into more productive things.”

I wasn’t about to go into specifics with this woman. I mean, it was nice, her opening up to me about my godfather. But I didn’t make it a habit of opening up to strangers, and I wasn’t going to start with her. No matter how cute and open this stranger was. She didn’t need to hear about how I got mixed up in high school. About how my father was a treacherous son of a bitch who thought beating up on his son could change anything. She didn’t need to know about a mother who was never there for me and essentially left me to defend myself against my own fucking flesh and blood.

Anton knew.

But Michelle didn’t need to.

I was only going to be here for a week, at the most. No time to worry with making new friends. I’d settle Anton’s estate, divvy out his apparent wealth the way he wanted it to be divvied, then get the fuck back to Napa Valley. Back to my world. My comfort zone. Back to my wines and my grapes and my beautiful sunsets off the private balcony of my bedroom.

I didn’t need friends in a place I’d never return to.

“Here, let me get that. You cooked. I clean. It’s only fair.”

Before I could pick up my plate and take it to the sink, Michelle was out of her chair. She gathered everything off the table and took charge of the kitchen. She toppled everything into the sink before she came back for my coffee mug, and I finished the last of it off before I handed it to her. Our fingers brushed, her soft skin sliding against mine. My cock shot to full erection as a shockwave rushed through my system. My eyes watched her hips as she disappeared behind the kitchen island, the veins in my groin pulsing.

Shit.

She was going to think I was some sort of pervert.

I looked down in my lap and saw my fork sitting there. How the fuck did it end up in my lap. I got up from the chair and walked quickly around the kitchen island, trying to toss it over her shoulder. But before I could let it go, she turned around and took it from me.

As she turned, my cock grazed against her ass.

I fumbled backwards, trying to put as much space between us as I could. I dipped my hand into my pants and readjusted myself as she turned around. Her eyes connected with mine and I wanted to take her right then and there. Fist her beautiful hair, bend her over that fucking counter, and slide my rock hard cock right between her legs. Those legs she’d teased me with when she came into the room and stretched for me.

I needed to get out of there.

I needed to get away from her.

“I’ll be out by the morning,” Michelle said.

I furrowed my brow as I watched her eyes fall to her feet.

“What?” I asked.

“I uh, I ran into a surprise snag with my housing. That’s why I’m here. But I’ve got a couple of places I can check out today, so if all goes well I’ll be out early tomorrow.”

Even as I stood there with my cock pulsing against my pelvis, I knew she was lying. I saw the anxiety roll over her features. I caught her reflection in the kitchen window. Her eyes filled with worry. Her lips were pursed with nervous energy. Her back pulled taut and her toes curled into the tiles of the kitchen floor. The longer we stood there, the more tense she became. She scrubbed the dishes harder as she continued to rattle on, and with each word the wavering of her voice grew.

“I mean, I wasn’t going to stay long anyway. Just a few days. But I know Stillsville has a couple of motels and a friend of mine contacted me this morning, saying I could come stay with her. Just until I iron out the kinks with my old place. Which shouldn’t take more than a week.”

It was clear she had nowhere else to go. She put up a good front. She was strong. My interpretation was that she figured I wouldn’t think she was strong if she admitted it. Admitted to not having anywhere to go. And honestly? I didn’t give a shit as to what happened to her prior home. I had no intention of sticking around this town any longer than I had to, which meant the less emotionally invested I could get in this outsider, the better.

But I couldn’t fucking put her out on the street.

Not when I knew she was blatantly lying to me.

“Look, I’m in the process of dividing up Anton’s estate. But while I’m here for the next few days, you’re welcome to stay,” I said.

“It’s fine. Really,” Michelle said. “I had no intentions of staying—”

“Michelle.”

Her body froze. The profile of her face swiveled slowly towards me and I watched her eyes swoop over my body. I prayed she hadn’t seen the bulge in my pants. Fuck me. How embarrassing. We both had shit we were hiding. We both cared about Anton. We both had comforting moments within the walls of his home.

It made no sense for her not to stay.

“You have a room here. Anton made that perfectly clear. And I have no intention of stripping you of that simply because he’s gone,” I said.

She winced, and I immediately regretted my choice of words.

“You can stay as long as you like,” I said.

“That’s kind of you, Gray. Thank you. I’ll make sure to keep out of your way.”

I wanted to correct her. To tell her she could get in my fucking way anytime. But honestly? Seeing less of her was probably for the better. I nodded my head before she got back to washing the dishes, then I strode off to my bathroom. I needed a fucking shower and I needed to force all the thoughts running through my head from my mind. That beautiful woman in the kitchen was getting under my skin, and the last thing I needed was something anchoring me to a place full of nothing but hopelessness and despair.

But as the hot water rushed over my body, my erection didn’t go away.

Fuck me.

It was going to be a long week.