Reaper's Stand(15)

Don’t be a dork, I told myself. You’ve cleaned hundreds of strangers’ rooms over the years and it’s no big deal.


“I need to get my supplies,” I said, chickening out. I’d look at his bedroom later, after I got the rest of the house whipped into shape. Thankfully it shouldn’t be that hard a job—there might be a lot of dust, but the place wasn’t filthy. I got the impression he didn’t spend much time there at all, which had to limit the mess.

“You need help carrying anything?” he asked, trailing me to the door.

“Nope. In fact, it will be easier for me if you go away for a couple hours.”

He studied me speculatively, and I rolled my eyes.

“What do you think I’m going to do—steal your guns? I don’t even like guns. It’s going to be noisy and dusty and you’ll be in my way.”

Hayes gave a startled snort, and I realized he was holding back a laugh. Okay. That was better than him menacing me.

“I’ll be out in the shop,” he said. “Come find me if you have any questions.”

“Sure thing,” I replied, taking another quick look around.

The sooner I got this done the better.

Nearly three hours later I’d scrubbed, dusted, wiped, and washed the entire house. Not deep cleaning—no windows—but the surfaces were dirt-free and sanitized, the carpets were vacuumed, and the dust bunnies had been executed for crimes against humanity.

Now all that remained was the back addition where he slept, which I’d saved for last. Why? I have no idea. I guess it just felt too intimate, and I didn’t want to get any closer to him than I needed to. This was crazy, because I’d cleaned bedrooms through the years and never felt more than mild curiosity about their residents.

Get over yourself.

Walking into his room was like entering a different world. It was all new construction, so that was a big contrast right there, but the place was sparse and barren, too. Modern furniture, and not much of it. A dresser and an entertainment center with a giant flatscreen on it. Mirrored panels covering big double closet doors. A slider opened out the back, hung with heavy, dark curtains that weren’t quite black but weren’t quite anything else, either.

And the bed? Wowza.

Reese Hayes had a bed big enough for six people, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had that many in here a time or two. The image of him lying back on it, naked and beckoning took my breath away for an instant. Down, hormones! Silky black sheets covered it, another modern touch deeply out of sync with the rest of the house. It felt like some sort of dark den, which I supposed it was. He’d obviously erased any hints that his wife had ever slept in here.

“Now that’s depressing,” I muttered softly to myself.

“What’s depressing?”

I jumped, adrenaline spiking as I whirled to find the man himself watching me. He leaned against the door frame, his big arms crossed, which flexed the muscles in a way that sent a thrill down my spine.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Hayes cocked a brow, and I realized I’d yelled at him.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, remembering how he’d responded to Jessica’s blowup. I didn’t have any reason to believe he’d be dangerous, at least not under these circumstances. That didn’t mean I should feel comfy and safe around him, though.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quietly. “But what did you mean by that comment?”

Love that deer-in-the-headlights feeling. I tried to think, come up with some kind of safe lie, but the truth came out instead and it was horrible.

“It’s depressing because it’s obvious that you removed every trace of Heather from your room.”

He froze, and for the first time I saw something like real emotion on his face. He looked … stunned. Like he couldn’t believe I’d actually said that.

Fair enough. I couldn’t quite believe it, either.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Well played, London. Kick the widower in the emotional balls. Classy. What the hell was wrong with me?

I turned back and set down my supply bucket. Might as well get to work, because there was no way I’d be leaving this room any time soon. I didn’t think I’d be able to face him for a while … I walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light, looking around. Oh, dear God. It was disgusting. Not moldy or anything, but really obvious that it hadn’t seen a good cleaning in weeks, maybe even months. Much worse than the bathroom upstairs had been, but I guess that made sense. Nobody lived up there anymore.

He’d have plenty of time to forgive me before I’d get out of here, I realized. My phone buzzed.

JESSICA: Getting done an hour early and need ride.



I rubbed my temple, frustrated. I’d never finish this in one shot, and now I had even less time, unless I made Jess walk home from the community center. Knowing my luck, she’d pick up a bunch of new friends along the way and bring them back to the house for a party …

Wonderful.

President Friendly and I would need to schedule at least one more session, which meant more time spent with him than I’d ever imagined when we struck our deal. And that was before I insulted him about his dead wife in their bedroom.