Bewitching You(21)

“Yeah.”

A bead of sweat dribbled down the middle of his abdomen, into his jeans. She held back the urge to run her finger down the path and farther. To touch the muscles she knew so well.

Another sigh.

She seriously needed to get him out of here before she did something she regretted. Because even if this Rachel chick had crushed his feelings, there was no way he would be over her so quickly. Right?

“I think it’s fixed. Just need to turn the water back on and test it out.”

“Okay. Then I can drive you to your car. Or if you want, there’s an auto-body shop I can take you to about ten miles away, and it has a tow truck.”

“Whichever.” He drank down the rest of the water and stooped to turn the sink valve.

“Super.” She swallowed the rising disappointment building in her throat.

It wasn’t as if she didn’t enjoy his company. She did, so much so that she knew she would miss him when he was gone. Nevertheless, getting him away from her was for the best. For now.

Who knew? Maybe after his heart healed, he would come back to her and his reasons would be pure, less convoluted. She allowed herself one eye roll for that thought.

Yep, she was saving herself some serious heartbreak by saying goodbye, indefinitely.





Chapter Nine



“Always remember that I love you, okay?” Hayes showed himself to Rachel as he stood over the bed. His gorgeous body was still bare of any clothes. Just the way she liked him.

Rachel was ecstatic to actually see him. While they’d been making love, she’d blindly felt every inch of him. She’d had nothing but memories to sustain her.

“I love you too.” She sat up and wrapped the sheet around her. “Do you have to go?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry. Your mom is on the way up, and I have to check on some things with Gray.”

“Can you come back?” Rachel sounded desperate even to her own ears, but she didn’t care. She wanted to spend as much time with him as possible before he left her for good.

“I want to, more than you know, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

“But—” The doorbell rang.

“I’ll try, but don’t be sad if I can’t. You’ll find true love. I promise.” He began to fade. “I love you, Rachel.”

Then he was gone, before Rachel could tell him he’d be the only true love in her life. Before she could promise he’d be the last man to ever touch her body. She was certain of it. There’d be no other man. Ever.

The doorbell rang again, and Rachel threw on a robe. Her mother was the last person on heaven and Earth she wanted to talk to, but she needed to get this over with.

“Hi, Mom,” Rachel said, opening the door.

“Oh, wonderful. You’ve been crying,” Nora said, looking exasperated. “What can I expect this means?”

Not in the mood for a drawn out lecture, Rachel proceeded to what she thought really mattered to her mother. “I’ll repay you for the wedding. The dress, the flowers, everything. Don’t worry.”

“I wouldn’t be so hasty, dear. We can work this out.” Nora pulled a lock of stiff auburn hair away from her Botox-enhanced forehead. “What is it? Is he having cold feet? Men always do that before a wedding. It’s practically required.”

“The wedding’s not going to happen, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s a mere few days away. To cancel now would be a crime against social etiquette. Now, you know better than that, don’t you, dear? Think about all the people you’ll disappoint.”

Rachel’s head throbbed. “I need to be alone, Mom. Could you please leave?”

“Here.” Nora reached into her handbag and pulled out an envelope. “Show him these. He’ll change his mind.”

Rachel took the envelope. Anything to get the woman to leave. Stepping forward she backed her mom out into the hallway then clutched the doorknob.

“I’ll wait for your answer. Don’t fret, dear. He’ll come around.”

Rachel shut and locked the door after her mother left. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Better yet, why did she naturally assume it was Gray who was stopping the wedding? That he was the one with cold feet? She paced the living room until she remembered the envelope in her hand.

Probably was a bill from Olga the German dressmaking-monger. She opened it and pulled out two airline tickets with a sticky note attached. For your honeymoon! was written in her mother’s handwriting, and right under it read I already made reservations at Hotel Le Bristol. Grayson will love it!

“Oh, Lord. Does she ever stop?”

Two tickets to Paris. Rachel hoped they were refundable, because how in the world would she pay her parents back for this? On top of the wedding that was not going to happen?

~ * ~

Gray followed Sofia out to her little blue hatchback. The paint was peeling, and one of the headlights was dislocated, hanging on by a few wires. The car had to be at least twenty years old. A literal death trap. Shit.

The driver’s door creaked out a nasty sound as she hefted it open.

Hell, if he was going to get in a car like this, then he wanted to be in control. “Why don’t you let me drive?” he suggested. “I know where my car is parked.”

She tilted her head, smiling. “No. I’ll drive. Just tell me where to go.” She sank down in the driver’s seat, happy as can be.

“I don’t mind at all.” He bent over her and checked out the interior. Warped. Springs sticking out of the upholstery. No detectable airbags. And no shoulder straps on the seatbelts.

Seriously?

She shoved him away. “You’re not one of those guys who’s uncomfortable with women drivers, are you?”

“Me?” He tsked. “Not at all.” Fuck. Apparently having no other choice, he walked around the death-mobile and got in on the passenger side.

Her eyes twinkled with triumph as she gave him a sweet, innocent smile and started the engine. It died right away. Of course. What else would he have expected from this thing? She tried it again. Same thing.

“Crap. What’s wrong with my baby?” She ran her fingers over the dashboard.

“Your baby? This thing is older than you are.”

“No wonder he won’t start—with all the negative energy vibes you’re sending out.”

“Tell me you’re kidding.”

She laughed and slapped his thigh. “Had you scared after seeing all that voodoo stuff in the shed, huh?”

The woman needed to be spanked. By him. “Why don’t you pop the hood? I’ll check it out.”

“You are such the manly-man today, aren’t you?”

Gray grunted overdramatically, and she laughed again.

He couldn’t hold back a chuckle at how easy it was to make her laugh.

At the front of the car, he pulled the latch and lifted the hood. Surprisingly, it was pretty clean. The belts were all intact. The battery looked new. There didn’t appear to be any fluids leaking anywhere.

Sofia stepped beside him. “See anything wrong?”

“Not yet. Did you have it serviced recently?”

“I have a friend who helps me out with that stuff. We do favors for each other all the time.”

“A friend? Favors?” He didn’t like the sound of that at all. Some * was probably trying to get in her pants. Before Gray could.

“Yeah, favors.” She winked, swatted his butt, and laughed again. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It is funny, actually.” Her hands planted on her curvy hips. “My friend’s name is Madeleine. I paint pretty pictures for her apartment, and she keeps my car in tune.”

“Oh.” So he wasn’t scoring any points in the charming department. What was new? He stuck his head under the hood again and poked around at a few things. “So you paint?” he asked, evidently too late. He turned to see Sofia walking up the porch steps and into the house.

Fantastic job, Gray. Way to woo the lady. Oh, well. At least he could attempt to fix her car and get out of her hair. For now, anyway.

~ * ~

After fixing lunch, Sofia peeked out the window. “He’s still at it, Sam.” She looked down at the cat who lazily purred at her feet. “I have a strange feeling you’ll be sleeping with a hunk again tonight, you little traitor.”

Sam sashayed through Sofia’s legs and dashed out of the kitchen.

Gray had been working on her car all morning, only taking water and bathroom breaks. The poor man had to be exhausted and hungry.

“Hey, lunch is ready,” she called out the window, and let the curtains fall.

Seconds later he walked through the door and into the kitchen. His hair was a mess and grease was smeared on his hands and t-shirt. He heaved out a breath, looking like he was ready to blow a gasket.