Emily snuggled into Justin’s side. He hugged her with one arm and nuzzled the top of her head. Tilting her face up, she kissed his lips. The frantic need from earlier had seeped away and she was boneless and sated, enjoying the way he held her close as if he couldn’t bear to be parted from her. Using his chest as a pillow, she rubbed her cheek against his rough hair and smiled. Happiness fizzed through her, bubbling up her throat and emerging as a joyful laugh.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, the vibrations tickling her ear.
“Nothing,” she replied, smiling. “I’m just happy.”
“Me, too,” he agreed. “You make me happy.” A moment later, he added, “I can’t believe you seduced me. Sweet little Emily Parker. No one would ever believe it.”
“Not so sweet,” she said, “and I haven’t been little in years.”
“You’re little compared to me.”
“Everyone is little compared to you.”
Justin chuckled. She loved the deep, throaty sound of it. He didn’t laugh often enough for her liking. If he let her, she’d make him laugh every day for the rest of his life. Not that she’d let on yet how much he meant to her. For all she knew, she could be a rebound to him.
“Can’t argue with that,” he said.
His stomach growled loudly, and Emily patted it. “Um, I think it might be time to feed you.”
“Nah, I want to snuggle.” He rolled them onto their sides, spooning her, making her feel cherished and protected. The way she felt right then, she’d do anything for him.
His stomach growled again. Violently.
“You need food,” she said firmly. “I’ll heat up dinner. Stay here.”
Extricating herself from him, which took a little effort since he refused to cooperate, she padded out to the kitchen naked. After all, out here in the country, surrounded by trees, no one could see her. She dished up two bowls of pasta bake and heated them in the microwave, then returned to Justin’s bedroom. One of the cats—Dan, she thought—had curled into a ball on Justin’s stomach. She placed the bowls on a cupboard, lifted the cat off, handed Justin a bowl and slid under the covers next to him.
“Smells good,” Justin said, eating with gusto.
Emily watched the fork fly from bowl to mouth and back in amazement. In less than two minutes, the bowl was empty.
“Would you like more?” she asked. Thankfully, the recipe was intended to serve four.
“There’s more?” he asked like an eager puppy.
She nodded. “In the fridge.”
“I’ll sort it out,” he said, pushing the blankets back. “You eat.”
By the time he came back, Emily had consumed enough that she was no longer hungry, so she set her bowl aside. She didn’t want to stuff herself because then she wouldn’t be prepared for round two of sex. And provided Justin was game, she was keen for round two.
After he’d munched down his second bowl, he crawled over her body and settled between her legs. “Time for dessert.”
“Yes,” she agreed. And she wasn’t talking about the chocolates.
The next morning, Justin slept deeply, not waking when Emily dressed and made coffee, or when she left a steaming mug on his bedside cabinet. She strolled through the house, exploring, though there wasn’t much to explore. Everywhere she went, she encountered the same soul-crushing monochromatic color scheme.
She opened the curtains to let light into the house, except for in the bedroom where Justin was dozing. The light that filtered through the windows was weak, as they were covered by a film of dust. Searching in the laundry cupboards, she found a cloth and glass cleaner and wiped down the windows in the living room, kitchen, and bathroom so early morning sun illuminated the rooms. Hands on hips, she studied her work, then smiled. This had to brighten Justin’s day. Sunlight was the primary source of vitamin D, which recent studies had linked to positive mood. More vitamin D equaled a better mood. It was science.
Unfortunately, the sun highlighted speckles of dust on the coffee table, vanity and kitchen bench. She searched for a clean cloth to clear off the dust, then fetched a few items she’d brought over from the shop last night out of her car. Collecting them in her arms, she staggered inside and laid them on the couch. Amongst the items were a green glass vase, which she’d thought would suit Justin’s preference for the outdoors, a bouquet of wildflowers, two buttery yellow cushions for the sofa, and lastly, a wall hanging depicting a mountainous landscape against a brilliant blue sky.
Choosing the right things to perk up Justin’s house had been difficult, and she hoped she hadn’t messed up, but if she had, she could always take the rejects to her own home and try again. What was most important was that his home felt right to him.
She wondered how he’d react when he noticed her additions. Hopefully, it would be a pleasant surprise. Something to bring a smile to his face. Being the kind of guy he was, Justin probably had no clue how to make the most of his living space. Fortunately for him, she was an expert.
She peeled the plastic wrapping from the bouquet, filled the bottom of the vase with water, and slotted the flowers into it before placing the vase in the center of the coffee table. Then, in a stroke of genius, she arranged wrapped chocolate pralines in a circle around the base of the vase. She plumped the cushions on the sofa and searched for somewhere to hang the mountain scene. A nail extended from the wall a couple of yards to the left of the TV so she hung it from that. Better to make use of the existing nail, which she assumed had previously held some kind of artwork, than to hammer in a new one and wake Justin up.
Gazing around, she weighed her efforts. She’d only added a few touches of color, but already the atmosphere had lightened. It actually looked like someone lived here, and the cave-like darkness had receded. She nodded to herself. She’d done well.
Detouring to the bedroom, she bent to kiss Justin’s cheek. His muscles were slack with sleep, but he mumbled something as she kissed him.
“I’m going now,” she whispered. “I’ve got to open the shop.”
“Come back tonight,” he said, eyes still closed. “Promise.”
“I will,” she agreed, and then left, feeling lighter than air, as if she could stretch her arms and fly. She already wanted to see him again. The day couldn’t pass quickly enough.
Justin’s first clue that something was off was when he wandered from the bedroom into the living room, rubbed his bleary eyes, and froze at the sight of an enormous white and blue picture occupying the wall opposite the hall. The space where the photo of him and Chloe taken on the day of their engagement used to hang. He peered at the picture through narrowed eyes. Where had it come from? The damn thing had to be four feet tall and just as wide. It dominated the wall, detracting attention from the TV. Unfortunately, it also reminded him of Chloe, simply by virtue of its location. In a moment of clarity, he realized where it had come from. Emily. Almost as though she’d zeroed in on a vulnerable spot and tried to make it her own.
Looking away from the painting on the wall, Justin’s gaze landed on a pair of yellow cushions on the sofa which he’d certainly not put there. Purple and white flowers graced the coffee table. Cold sliced through him. Emily meant well, he knew she did. But hell, she’d spent one night with him and already she was trying to change his home. Change him. That didn’t bode well for the future. He sucked in a deep breath and released it. He could handle this. He liked Emily, and they were combustible between the sheets.
Don’t panic.
He had a woman in his life again. Adjustments were necessary. He could adapt. It was only a couple of minor changes. No biggie.
After another satisfying night spent tangled in the sheets with his woman, Justin stretched, opened his eyes, and jerked back at the sight of a rustic wooden clock on the wall facing the bed. A clock that hadn’t been there the previous night. It looked like a slice taken from a tree trunk with grooves etched into it to represent the hours and two simple black hands.
He considered the clock. It suited his style. If he’d wanted a clock, he may well have chosen this one for himself, but the fact was, he intentionally didn’t have a clock in his bedroom because he didn’t want to feel rushed in the morning. Sure, he usually rose early—by his standards, if not Emily’s—but if he decided to engage in a leisurely sleep-in, he preferred not to be reminded of the time passing. The bedroom was a place to relax.
Apparently, Emily didn’t get that.
He closed his eyes, dug the heel of his palms into his eye sockets, and groaned. Was this her way of hinting that he should be getting up earlier? Making more of his day? Who the hell knew? What he did know was that he couldn’t tolerate this change, so he dragged himself out of bed, lifted the clock from the wall and took it to the living room, where he placed it on the windowsill.
Once again, he noticed that the curtains had been opened and the glass cleaned. He couldn’t decide whether he appreciated Emily’s efforts, or resented them.
“She means well,” he repeated to himself. He’d have to talk to her about it sometime. Just, not right now. For a little while longer, he wanted to revel in their budding relationship. In the way she felt in his arms. So perfect. So right.
Emily woke with a muscular arm draped over her waist, curled beneath the front of her hip. She smiled a blissful smile and snuggled back into Justin’s chest. His arm tightened around her and he nuzzled the nape of her neck.
“Good morning,” she murmured, enjoying the warmth of him wrapped around her.
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he rumbled, his voice raspy with sleep.
She wriggled and felt him harden against her butt. Her eyes flew open. Uh-oh. She tried to extricate herself from him, but he only held tighter.
“Don’t start something you’re not prepared to finish,” he said, his palm skimming up her side to cup her breast.
“I need to get to work,” she replied, breathless. Although maybe-kinda-sorta she wouldn’t mind him making her late. But he sighed heavily and released her. She slid out from the bed, dressed—she’d shower at her place on the way—and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then the tip of his nose, and finally his forehead. A surge of affection welled in her heart. She already felt so much for her gorgeous, grumpy man.
She glanced up at the wall to check the time but noticed the clock she’d hung had been moved. That didn’t dishearten her. Quite the contrary, it demonstrated that Justin was okay with the other changes she’d made around the place. Clearly, he wouldn’t hesitate to make it known if she crossed a line. She’d made a mistake with the clock. That was okay. Mistakes happened. She hummed as she unloaded her latest acquisitions, wondering what he’d think. They certainly made her feel more at home. Five minutes later, she departed with a satisfied smile on her face
Justin could tear his hair out.
Each time Emily visited, something new appeared in his house. A painting of Lake Itirangi on the wall. A jar of cookies on the bench. A ‘welcome home’ mat on the front doorstep. He’d tolerated it all with nothing more than a raised eyebrow, then whisked her into the bedroom. None of it had been worth starting an argument over. The clock had been easy enough to move, and he’d seen how she could imagine he’d like it, but this time she’d gone too far.
He had stepped into the bathroom, lifted the seat on the toilet—which he didn’t mind doing, for the record—only to glance down and notice the pink fluff that squished between his toes.
Pink. Fluff.
Emily had installed a fluffy pink mat at the foot of his toilet, and when he lowered the lid to flush, he noticed a matching cover on the cistern.
Fuck no.
He was a man, damn it. He couldn’t have fluffy pink covers on his toilet. Not for anyone, not even Emily. And what was she thinking, bringing it here? They may be seeing each other, but they hadn’t discussed their relationship status—which meant, as far as he was concerned, that she had no place decking out his place in pink stuff. She had no right to try to change his house or try to change him.
What a mess.
He raked a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends. Everything had spiraled rapidly out of control, and it was his own stupid fault. He’d been caught up in being with Emily, and not doing anything to put her off, but he needed to look at the facts.
Fact: he didn’t need to be changed.
Fact: he definitely didn’t need a fluffy pink mat in the bathroom.
Fact: Emily was making changes in his life that he hadn’t asked for and didn’t want.
Fact: he needed to nip the problem in the bud. Immediately.