is reserved,” I whispered.
“Niles is an ass,” he returned and my brows
drew together.
“You don’t know him.”
“I know men and I know he’s not reserved,
he’s an ass.”
I pulled my head together, my hand from his
and snapped, “Yes? And how do you know that?”
“Because I’ve seen you naked, I’ve seen you
sweet, I’ve seen you unsure and I’ve seen you riled and, seein’ all
that, I know, you were half a world away from me, I’d fuckin’
phone.”
“Perhaps that’s not the kind of relationship
Niles and I have,” I suggested snottily but his words hit me
somewhere deep, somewhere I didn’t know I had.
“You on a timeout?”
“What?”
“ If you told me you needed a timeout,
first, I wouldn’t fuckin’ let you have one, second, I wouldn’t give
you reason to fuckin’ want one, last, you took off anyway, I’d fuckin’
phone.”
My head tilted to the side and I felt my
body start warming up not, this time, with fever.
“ You wouldn’t let me have one?”
“Fuck no.”
“ Ergo, you would not be my man .”
“Ergo?”
“It’s Latin, it means ‘therefore’.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, “I gotta go.”
“ Hang on,” I snapped. “You may think you know me but I was
delirious. I didn’t get to know you .”
“You will.”
“I won’t.”
“So you think you’re leavin’?” He switched
the subject.
“ I am leaving,” I declared, happy to be on this
subject.
He stuck his hand in his front jeans pocket,
pulled out the keys to the rental, dangled them in front of me for
a brief flash then his hand closed around them and he shoved them
back into his pocket.
“Be hard gettin’ down the mountain on foot,
carryin’ that huge-ass suitcase of yours, which weighs a goddamned
ton, your overnight bag, your purse and a shitload of groceries,”
he informed me.
“Give me those keys,” I snapped.
“I’d tell you to go for them, honey, but
don’t have time to play.”
At his words, my mouth dropped open again,
he grinned, chucked me gently under the chin with the side of his
fist (yes, I will repeat, he chucked me under the chin ) and then he walked away.
I stood staring at the space he used to be
in then, when I heard the front door open, I ran to the
railing.
“Max!” I shouted.
“Later, Duchess,” he called, a hand up, two
fingers flicking out, he didn’t even look back.
Becca looked back though, and up. She gave
me a wince-I’m-sorry-face and a finger wave and I knew she heard
everything. I’d totally forgotten she was there.
Then I watched Max throw his now black
leather jacketed arm around her shoulders and I wondered who Becca
was and what she was to Max who was just upstairs, semi-fighting
with me and also, if I wasn’t wrong, and I didn’t think I was,
flirting with me in a rough, macho, mountain man kind of way
They talked for a few seconds at the side of
her car then they separated. Becca got in her sporty, red,
mini-SUV. Max got in his black Cherokee. They both drove away.
I looked down at the bottom floor and saw my
cranberry juice, my coffee and my untouched oatmeal all sitting on
the bar.
Then I looked out the window at the
wilderness.
The internet advertisement for the A-Frame
said it was fifteen miles away from the nearest town, secluded,
quiet, the perfect holiday destination for a calm, relaxing,
peaceful getaway.
The Nightmare Holiday Destination if you had
to walk fifteen miles to town carrying a suitcase, an overnight
bag, a purse and a shitload of groceries.
Tackle a problem
prepared, Charlie
advised in my head and I nodded like he was there with
me.
Then I walked downstairs, heated up my
oatmeal, warmed up my coffee and sat at the stool, preparing to
tackle my problem.
Chapter Three
Buffalo Burgers
After I ate, I did my dishes, Max’s dishes,
wiped down the counters, found the extra sheets in the closet and
made the bed. Then I found the utility room around the corner from
the recess in the
Learning to Kill: Stories