Chance(39)
Chapter 34
There's something wickedly decadent about shutting yourself off from the world. I've only been alone in the house for a few hours and I can sense the pull that Asher felt. Once he left, I'd called Clive to tell him that I wouldn't be back to the office until Wednesday. I shot off a short text message to Graham after that telling him to expect me back at home until mid-week and then I'd turned off my phone and tablet and buried them in a drawer in the guest room. I have my pick of rooms since the house is completely vacant but the familiarity of that room called to me. I had unpacked the few items I brought with me last night and had fallen asleep in that bed.
I break off a large chunk of bread before slicing some cheese and placing it all on a small, square plate. I pour myself a half a glass of the deep bodied red wine I bought yesterday. It's lunch for me and as soon as I'm done indulging my hunger, my plan is to head down to the beach to lie in the sun.
I take my snack outside to the large table that has always inhabited the west corner of the Foster's yard. We'd gather around this spot when we were children to wait for the dinners that the cook prepared for us. Miles and I were always hesitant to try new things, given the fact that our mother never ventured far off the baked chicken path. It was here, in this spot, that I found my love for fresh shucked oysters and charcoal grilled corn on the cob.
I sit in silence as I eat, pulling the clean air into my lungs. Sipping the wine slowly, not wanting to slip into the edges of feeling lightheaded or sleepy. I want to embrace the day and enjoy it.
"Rowan Bell?" A man's voice carries through the silence. "That's not you, is it?"
It's me but right now I wish it wasn't. I can feel eyes peering over the fence at me. I know who lives next door. It's Ian Handler. He was Caleb's best friend for years. He lived in the city too and each summer he'd catch a ride with the Fosters out to his family home here. I look to the left knowing that it's a move I'm going to inevitably regret. Apparently the universe is determined to spare me the luxury of having any time to myself this weekend.
"It is you." He smiles at me and his top teeth instantly pop into view. I remember vividly the way his two front teeth subtly overlap each other. There was one summer, when I must have been either thirteen or fourteen-years-old when I found his smile alluring. To be honest, I found everything about him appealing for a brief span of time. I see why when I look at him now. His face is still ruggedly handsome and his hair is now shorter, but still the same rich black that it was back then.
"Ian." I know I should stand but I don't. That would be a silent invitation for him to engage me in a conversation I don't want to have. "How are you?"
"I'm great." He pops out of view and I cringe. I know what it means. He's on his way to the gate that separates the two yards.
I finish the last mouthful of wine in my glass before I lick my lips, sweeping up any wayward droplets. I slide the linen napkin I found in the kitchen over my mouth and I ready myself for the bear hug I know is just seconds away.
"Rowan." As if on cue, he's standing no more than three feet away from me. "Come here and give me a hug."
I stand slowly, biding my time until I embrace him. I scratch the back of my neck before I pull on the hem of the short sundress I have on.
His arms are around me in an instant. I'm consumed with the scent of his skin. It's cologne inspired by the outdoors. He smells like a walk in the forest. It's strangely pleasant.
"You look exactly like I remember you." His voice is deep and gruff.
"You do too, Ian."
"Are you here with Asher?" He looks over my shoulder to the empty plate and wineglass sitting atop the dining table. "When I saw him yesterday he didn't say anything about you coming up."
It's an out that I know I shouldn't take but given the fact that I can feel the beginnings of an erection through the thin swim trunks he's wearing, I'm going to use his assumptions to my own advantage. "I surprised him. I arrived last night."
"I bet he's happy to see you." He leans back and my eyes involuntarily fall to the overwhelming bulge that seems to keep growing and growing. I pull my gaze back up quickly but not before he notices. "You're almost as hot as I remember you."
Thank you, I think?
"Speaking of hot," I begin before I let out a raucous fake laugh.
He doesn't even crack a smile.
""Speaking of hot," I repeat with a lot less enthusiasm this time. "I'm heading back inside. I'm not used to the sun."
"I'll come by later with some beers." He squeezes my arms. "It's so good to see you, Rowan."
"Good to see you too," I mumble under my breath as I make a beeline for the patio doors and the quiet serenity of the empty house.
Chapter 35
I smooth some of the scented lotion that Graham tossed into my suitcase over my legs. I'd soaked my body in a hot bath for more than an hour. The water may have been chilled by the time I got out, but the stress it pulled from me made it worth the discomfort.
I wrap the thin robe I found in the closet in my room around my body. The temperature dips when night falls in this part of the state, but even though I'm tempted to turn up the thermostat to blast some warm air into the space, I know that I'll sleep more soundly if I don't. I may even crack open a window in my bedroom so I can drift off listening to the silence that is never present in Manhattan.