With Everything I Am (The Three #2)(15)

It wasn’t until after she’d discovered the three bags on the countertop had her favorite shampoo, conditioner, bath wash, lotion, and perfume as well her brand of razor and a variety of her cosmetics with the exact right shades and included brushes.

It wasn’t until after she’d perused what was in the ten shopping bags and found a variety of girlie outdoor gear. Corduroys, jeans, belts, long-sleeved thermals, long-sleeved tees, henleys, sweaters, fleeces, poofy vests and thick socks that were all in her exact sizes. But not her colors. She usually wore white, black, gray or silver. There was none of that and, of course, she never wore outdoor gear and hadn’t in thirty-one years.

It wasn’t until after she’d found sexy, lacy, satiny, silky lingerie for sleeping in and even sexier lacy, satiny, silky underwear for wearing (and not a piece of it her usual classic, but utilitarian, undergarments) were also in the bags.

It wasn’t until after she’d lotioned, spritzed perfume, gunked smoothing elixir into her hair and put on a light coat of makeup.

It was when was blow-drying her hair with a blow dryer she found in the cabinet. She was doing it while standing in front of the mirror in a demi bra made of pale green-yellow silk topped with beige lace and matching Brazilian cut panties. Neither of which she’d even glance at in a store, but, she had to admit, they were beautiful and made her feel a little bit saucy. It was then that her mind shuffled logically through last night and this morning and everything that had happened.

Last night, while she was innocently sleeping (for all they knew), men invaded her house.

They grabbed her, scared her nearly to death and discussed raping her.

Then Callum came in and, obviously, saved the day.

However, afterward, he did not phone the police.

She did not wake up in a hospital bed or shaken by a uniformed officer.

Most importantly, she was not introduced by a proper authority to Callum as the man who just happened to be walking past her house and heard her scream (which, she also noted, she never screamed so how on earth had he known to come in at all!). Therefore, upon hearing her scream, he gallantly burst forth to wrest her from the clutches of evil.

This morning, when she’d woken thinking she was in a dream, he had not informed her firmly that she was not, indeed, dreaming. And Callum, she also noted, could be very firm.

Instead, he’d not acted like a gentleman and he’d taken advantage of her obvious confusion and vulnerability and kissed her and other things as well.

Now she found out that he knew her preferences for toiletries and her size.

He’d been prepared for this.

Very prepared.

She knew why and she thought it was a cruel, cosmic joke that the man outside splitting logs (she could hear the axe and the logs dropping into the snow), looked like her dream man.

It was a sadistic maneuver for that jerk to bring her here.

She’d figured that out too.

Because Gregor, for some demented reason, had systematically removed every hint of her mother and father and the life she had with them. Except her stuffed wolf and the Christmas decorations, but only because she’d thrown an almighty, six-year-old fit.

He’d obviously gotten rid of the cabin too and didn’t have the courage to tell her he’d sold it.

After she got away from Callum, she was finally going to demand some answers from Gregor. Then she was going to tell his son Yuri once and for all that she was not going to sleep with him and definitely not going to marry him. Last, she was never speaking to another man again until the day… she… died!

Except, of course, Gregor, after she forgave him because, even though he was remote, she still loved him. And Yuri, after she forgave him too, because, even though she knew he thought differently, she’d always thought of him kind of like a brother and she loved him too.

She put on a pair of fawn colored low rider cords which she was not going to think were cute (even though they were). She added a brown leather belt with daisies stamped into the leather which was something else that she determined was not cute (even though it was). Then she donned a bright pink, long sleeved henley that had a ribbon with flowers sewn down the buttoned slit at the collar which didn’t fit her like it was made for her, wasn’t surprisingly the perfect color for her and didn’t make her look really good even though she’d never have guessed it (even though it did all that).

She also tugged on a pair of thick socks that were not warm and snugly (even though they were).

She found there were no shoes but she didn’t need shoes.

Yet.

She walked out of the bathroom and grabbed the bags (taking three trips) and carted them back into the big room.

She made the bed (angrily) as she heard Callum chop, chop, chopping outside. Sometimes, she’d hear him stop and approach the house and she’d get tense but he did it only to stack the logs on the back porch because he never came inside.

She found coffee, poured herself a cup and yanked open the refrigerator to find Callum had stocked it only with full-fat milk.

Of course.

He knew her clothing size but he didn’t know she religiously had to drink skim in order to fit in it.

Jerk!

She made breakfast for the both of them and surprisingly she heard the backdoor open the minute she was done.

She heard his boots on the floor as she was busily taking the plates from warming in the oven.

He stopped at the mouth of the u-shaped kitchen.