8

 

Eros paced in the guestroom while he waited for Psyche to come out of the bathroom. He couldn’t wait for her to leave. After seeing her naked, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep his cock in his pants.

Shit! He’d never been as pissed at his best friends as right now. Their plan to throw a smoking hot woman in his path and hope he’d bite, was working. For all he knew, his three friends had instigated the incident in Triton’s garden, too.

They might as well have presented Psyche on a silver platter. What healthy man in his prime could ever resist such a delectable treat? Particularly if that healthy man was absolutely starved for sex.

But he had no intention of giving into temptation and letting his friends win. Nor did he want to make the same mistake twice—the mistake of letting a woman into his heart so she could destroy what was left of it. And that was exactly the reason why Psyche had to leave. Tonight. This instant. Before he did something stupid.

“I’ll quickly pack my bag.”

At the sound of Psyche’s voice Eros spun around. He hadn’t even heard the door opening, too caught up in his own thoughts.

“Of course, sure, take your time,” he mumbled, unable to tear his gaze away from her.

She hadn’t dried her hair, only combed it. She now wore a pair of faded jeans and a tight-fitting white T-shirt. Unfortunately she hadn’t dried herself carefully enough, and now several wet spots on her chest rendered the fabric see-through.

He wanted to groan. Were the gods all turning against him? Had they all made a pact to fill his life with temptations of the female variety so he would do his duty as the god of love again? He should have stayed in Hades’ Underworld and drowned himself in wine and other spirits.

“I’m going to talk to Triton,” Psyche said as she tossed a few T-shirts into a black leather bag.

“Triton? What about?”

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” A pair of trousers followed the T-shirts. “He’s trying to make you into something you’re not. That’s not what friends do. Besides, it never works. People are who they are. You can’t change them. It’s not like they chose to be that way. They just are. It’s nature.” She squeezed a pair of sandals into the bag.

Surprised at her clear understanding of the issue, Eros nodded at her and instinctively approached. “Exactly! I mean, you understand that. And you don’t even know me. But my friends, who’ve known me since forever and a day, don’t get it. They think they can change me. I don’t know how to make them understand.”

Psyche opened a drawer and pulled out a bunch of undergarments and lifted them toward the bag. A bra fell out of the heap and landed on the bed.

Eros couldn’t avert his eyes and swallowed. He could imagine all too vividly what Psyche would look like in this lacy black concoction. Sweat suddenly started to trickle down his neck, making him aware of the heat in the room.

“Sometimes you need to lay yourself bare,” she suddenly said.

“Bare?” All kinds of images exploded in his mind.

“Yes, you know, you have to tell them how you really feel so they understand that they’re hurting you by trying to change you.”

A nervous laugh escaped him. Shit, she wasn’t talking about nudity, but his dirty mind had gone there immediately. “Yeah, I tried that. But they’re not giving up.”

“That’s a shame.” She gave him a pitying smile, then zipped up her bag. “I’ve got everything.”

Eros reached for the bag before she could lift it off the bed. “Let me take that for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I can drive you.”

She walked into the hallway ahead of him. “I’ve got my truck outside.”

He followed her down the stairs, not knowing what else to say. She’d been kind and understanding, and he hadn’t expected that, not after the way he’d treated her at first. He wanted to apologize and thank her, but for the first time in his life he felt tongue-tied.

At the front door, Psyche turned around. “I’m sorry about the mess… I hung the wet towel over the shower and…”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Don’t be sorry for anything. It’s not your fault. I apologize for barging in like that and accusing you of all kinds of things. You must have a terrible impression of me.”

She shook her head and reached for the bag. Reluctantly, he gave it to her. “No, I don’t. This is your house, and you did what any homeowner would do. No need to apologize.” She opened the door.

He smiled at her. “And let me handle Triton. I don’t want you to jeopardize your business relationship with him and Sophia. This is not about you.”

“Alright then.” She started walking down the front steps. “Good night.”

He followed her. “Where are you parked?”

“On the other side of the street.” She pointed to a run-down truck. He recognized it as the same one he’d seen her use two days earlier.

“Good night, Psyche,” he said, as she crossed the street and got into her truck.

She waved at him after settling in the driver’s seat, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine made a laboring sound, but didn’t come on. She tried again, and again the engine made a sound like it was wheezing and on its last leg.

Clearly frustrated, Psyche hit her hand against the steering wheel and cursed. “Come on!”

Eros crossed the street. “It doesn’t sound good.”

She turned her head to him and shrugged. But her next try didn’t yield any better results. The engine was dead.

Eros opened the car door. “Come on, I’ll drive you home in my car.”

“I don’t wanna put you out. I’ve caused you enough trouble.”

“Triton caused me trouble. You didn’t.” He offered her his hand. “Now, get out of the truck and let me drive you home.” It was the least he could do. “And I’ll have my mechanic look at your engine tomorrow to see if he can fix it.”

“But—”

“I insist.”

She sighed, but finally she got out of the truck. “Okay.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Minutes later, Psyche sat in Eros’s convertible, while he confidently navigated through the streets of Charleston. Most restaurants had closed for the evening, and the rest were about to; few pedestrians or cars were about.

She’d given Eros the address, knowing she couldn’t really refuse his offer to drive her home. Her truck had been giving her lots of trouble lately. She sincerely hoped it could be fixed, because she didn’t have the money to get a new one.

“How long have you been doing the landscaping at the Olympus Inn?” Eros asked casually.

“Oh, I just started a little while ago. But I’ve been arranging the flowers inside the inn for about a year now.”

“Very pretty.”

She spun her head to him, her pulse racing. “What?”

He cast her a sideways glance. “The flowers in the B&B. They’re very pretty. I’ve always admired the arrangements, but I’d assumed that Sophia was the one with the green thumb. Guess I was wrong.”

Psyche’s heart slowed a little. For a moment she’d thought that Eros had called her pretty, not the flowers. How juvenile of her! What was wrong with her?

“Sophia did her own flower arrangements before she hired me. And she did a very good job,” she deflected.

“But you’re much better,” Eros insisted. “You have the touch. It’s very comforting to meet somebody who clearly loves their job and takes pride in their work.”

Something in his voice made her look at him. Had she heard sadness? “And you, what do you do for work?”

He glanced at her briefly, then looked back to the street in front of him. He shrugged. “I guess I’m retired.”

“Retired?”

“Well, or between jobs. I just closed a business, and now I’m looking for something new.”

She sighed. “The economy, huh? I hear you. I’ve seen a lot of businesses close lately. What field were you in?”

“Matchmaking.”

“Seriously?” She let her eyes roam his body. Wasn’t matchmaking an entirely female business?

“I know. I get that a lot.” He chuckled. “But I’m done with it now. Have been for about a year.”

“Miss it?”

“Nah, not really. I’m glad to be out of it. The pressure was getting to me.”

“Pressure? What pressure?”

He turned his head to her. “The pressure to put the right people together. What if I made a mistake? I’d be responsible for a bad relationship, a bad marriage.” He let out a heavy sigh. “I just didn’t want to carry that burden anymore.”

She shook her head. “But it’s not your fault when people don’t get along. I mean, it’s the couple’s responsibility to make it work. Not yours. You just make the introductions. You’re not forcing them into a relationship. They can decide if they want to be together or not.”

“People trusted me to find the right person for them. They trusted my judgment. And maybe in the process they relied on it too much and ignored their own gut feelings.”

“Are you saying that a lot of the couples you brought together split up again?”

“Well, some did. And I have the feeling others are still in relationships just because it’s convenient. But are they really happy?”

Psyche thought about her own failed relationships. Had she ever been really happy with anybody? Or had she pretended to be happy, because she wanted to be in a relationship back then? “I don’t know. Some people seem very happy. Take Triton and Sophia. They’re very lovey-dovey whenever I see them together.”

“They’re an exception, for sure. But that’s rare,” Eros claimed. “I doubt many others are as happy as they are.”

“You’re pretty cynical for an ex-matchmaker.”

“Emphasis on the ex.” Eros slowed the car and pointed to the side of the street. “I must have gotten the address wrong. This doesn’t look like an apartment.”

“It’s the right place.”

Eros brought the car to a stop. “But it’s a florist shop.”

“Yes, it’s mine. I’m staying here.”