Inseparable Strangers Page 7

  When I got up from sitting on the floor, the muscles in my back and neck screamed at me for holding them in one position for so long. The sun was shining through the slits in my curtains, creating white streaks across the hardwood floor. It was now a decent and safe hour to leave my room so I headed downstairs to find bags for my items.

  I was hoping to avoid the man of my dreams, (pun intended) until I’d had at least two cups of coffee. Aaron was sitting at the bar with a steaming cup of java, staring off into space. When he heard me step into the kitchen his eyes captured mine. My heart flip-flopped around in my chest. Stop it, dammit. He’s homeless. Remember how disgusting he was. He’s a leech. He might’ve killed someone once. I had to remind myself of the person he really was and not the breathtaking man sitting in my house, drinking my coffee, and sleeping in my spare bed.

  He lowered his head, releasing the hold he had on me. “Morning,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. “I hope you didn’t mind, but I made some coffee. Finding all the things I needed, I assumed you drank the addictive stuff too,” he smiled.

  This was the first time I was able to see his smile and it was beautiful. His lips formed a perfect curve, and he had one dimple that formed at the top of his cheek, right below his left eye. What an odd spot for a dimple, I thought to myself. Nonetheless, it was a cute flaw and it fit perfectly on his handsome face.

  “No, not at all. It’s nice to wake up to the smell of fresh ground goodness,” I said, pouring me a cup of the warm, brown liquid.

  He nodded then stared back down into his cup before taking another sip.

  The silence was stifling, and it disturbed me how I was allowing a dream to overtake my emotions. I had to get control of myself before he ended up taking the reins. I’d always had a handle on my life and I wasn’t about to stop that now.

  Taking the bull by the horns, I decided to test him. “So, how did you sleep last night?”

  I caught him mid yawn with my question.

  “Well, from the way it looks, not well, but really, it was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks.”

  Dammit. That answer could be interpreted a hundred different ways.

  “How about you?” he asked, catching me completely off guard.

  “Well…um…good. It was good. I had a crazy dream, but other than that it was just like any other night.”

  “What kind of crazy dream? Bad? Good? Scary?”

  Was he challenging me? This was getting very bizarre. I didn’t like the idea of him molesting me in my sleep, even if it did feel incredible, if that was what happened. But, it didn’t happen. He was sleeping. I have proof. I saw him myself.

  “You know, I’m not sure. Have you ever had a dream that you knew was strange, but you couldn’t remember what it was about?”

  He nodded.

  “That’s how it is for me.”

  There was no way in hell I was giving up the details of my dream to this chunk of hunk. Oh, my God. What am I thinking? Stop. Just stop.

  “Maybe it will come back to you later. Who knows, you might be lucky enough to repeat the same dream.”

  “I never said it was a good one, just a strange one, so I’m not sure I want to repeat it.”

  “Huh,” he shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

  This conversation was wearing out its welcome. I was ready to move on to a subject I’d been curious about since they day I had found him.

  “So, how are you feeling this morning? How are the ribs coming along?”

  “They’re still very sore, but I’m able to maneuver a little better than yesterday. I guess it’s just going to be one of those ‘dealing with it one day at a time’ sort of things.”

  “How about the lacerations you had on your shins? One of them was pretty deep. I don’t know a lot about first aid and shit, but I swear that one gash could’ve used a few stitches.”

  “Nah, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. After I cleaned it up, and put a butterfly stitch on it, it looks as if it’s healing nicely now.”

  “That’s good to hear. I guess when you begged for me not to take you to the hospital you knew what you were doing.”

  He raised an eyebrow with amusement. “I begged?” Then he lowered it, pulling both eyebrows together. “I never beg,” he deadpanned.

  “Well, I guess you didn’t necessarily beg, but you were very persistent about it.”

  He nodded.

  His nodding was starting to wear on my nerves.

  Time for the next question. Hopefully this one will be more successful.

  “So, has any memory of what happened came back yet?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  And that was it. That was the extent of our morning conversation. Afterwards, I fixed myself a bowl of cereal then showered before taking my closet leftovers to the consignment shop. I left Aaron to himself the rest of the day. I didn’t like the positive vibe he was administering to my body.

  Chapter 8

  According to my newest reliable nursing assistant, WebMD, Aaron’s ribs should still have a few more weeks left to heal, but the way he moved, you would think he had miraculously healed. It amazed me when I would walk by his door and hear him huffing as he did push-ups, sit-ups and who knows what other type of exercises. For the next couple of weeks, the erotic and sometimes terrifying dreams continued. I wouldn’t have the dreams every night, but they did visit me at least two to three times a week.

  Not only were the dreams becoming a normal routine, the conversations and coffee with Aaron in the morning was turning into a daily ritual too. The time to send him packing was closing in, but after spending day in and out with him, I was beginning to dread that moment. He was growing on me like fungus on an old piece of bread. You could scrape it off, but it would just grow right back. There was something enticing about him. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake it off.

  During the day, I would give him the run of the house with the rule of staying on the main level still enforced. After the first week of eating my food, and using the utilities in my house, Aaron explained he was a Jack-of-All-Trades and wanted to earn his stay until he was well enough to leave.

  He didn’t understand I had a housekeeper and a groundsman to keep my home inside and out in pristine condition. I tried explaining this to him, but he was determined to repay me in some sort of way. I wanted to tell him he’d already helped when he somewhat saved my life that day my tire blew out. That was a topic I still hadn’t brought up and he hadn’t either. Every morning while we sat at the bar and enjoyed our cup of coffee together, the question hung on the tip of my tongue. This time, I could no longer bite it off.

  “Talk to me, Aaron. You remember more than you’re leading on,” I said, standing in front of the kitchen sink. After finishing his coffee, he always washed his cup and any other dirty dish in the sink. He wasn’t avoiding the topic any longer.

  He cocked an eyebrow up. “Are you implying I’m lying to you?”

  “Not exactly, but I do think you’re withholding information.” I folded my arms across my chest to let him know I planned on staying in this exact spot for a while. “You can’t expect me to bring you, a complete stranger, into my home, house you, feed you, and take care of you all the while I have no idea what kind of person you might be. What if you are a murderer?” He didn’t need to know I had actually thought that in the beginning.

  He stared long and hard at me. His beautiful green eyes pierced right through me. I had him cornered, and I don’t think he liked it. He sighed then sat down on the bar stool. “Fine. What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice giving signs he was irritated.

  “I want to know why those guys were beating you up. I want to know if you recognized me when I found you. I want to know who you really are. Where you’re really from, and what secrets you are hiding.”

  He nodded then swallowed. Scratching his neck, he stared off in space as he started to talk. “First, let’s get this straight, I’m not a murderer. I’ve
never hurt anyone intentionally, nor will I ever. Second, I don’t know who those guys were or why they were beating me up. Guys like me are an easy target for thugs. Third, yes, I recognized you, but not immediately. Fourth and fifth, I’m Aaron Nichols, the son of Lewis and Judy Nichols. I was born and raised fifteen minutes away from here, but moved away when my life took a turn that was out of my control. I think from the way I looked when we first met, you can kind of figure out how the rest of my story goes.” He looked me in the eye as soon as he finished.

  Wow.

  I nodded with satisfaction. He didn’t tell me details, but the info he did give was a start. There was always tomorrow or the next day to dig up more.

  ~~~

  After spending the day at the spa, I came home around dinner time and found Aaron busying himself in my kitchen. The rich smell of spicy seasonings whirled throughout the house. “Are you cooking?” I asked as I sat down a bag of men’s clothing I’d picked up while I was by the strip mall. Again, another endeavor I’d never expected to find myself doing. I would be lying if I said I was tired of looking at his beautiful body in sweat pants and plain white t-shirts. Not that I’d actually seen his body, but if it was anything like what I’d dreamed about, then it was gorgeous. And it sure as hell was too sexy to hide underneath unflattering garb.

  He craned his head around and shot me a crooked grin. “Uh… yeah. I hope you don’t mind,” he said spooning out a dark reddish sauce onto something in a casserole dish. “I thought I’d make enchiladas for dinner.” With a damn smile like that, how could I be upset? Now that I had a better look, I saw the rolled up tortillas stacked nicely in a perfect row.

  “Do you actually know how to cook?” It was a stupid question, but I asked it anyway. I could blatantly see he knew what he was doing in the kitchen by the way he moved about around the stove. After living on his own, I guess he was pretty self-sufficient. He took a tortilla, placed it in the casserole dish, filled it with meat and cheese, and then rolled it up nice and neat. He continued at a steady pace until he’d used up all the ingredients. The timer on the oven went off right about the time he picked up the dish to place it inside.

  After he closed the oven door, he turned around to face me with that damn charming smile, framed by a five o’clock shadow I was growing a little too fond of. I busted out into a fit of giggles when I noticed he was wearing the apron that Zoila usually wore — a pink apron trimmed in purple lace with unicorns printed all over it.

  “Are you laughing at me?” His eyebrows were knitted together, trying to act serious, but I could see the pull of a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. Tasty lips I remember leaving a heated trail over my body. I had to constantly remind myself that it was only dreams, but they somehow felt so damn real.

  My breath caught and I nodded, “Yes. If only you could see yourself right now.”

  “What?” His forehead wrinkled in confusion until he glanced down at what I was looking at and noticed the unicorns dancing across his chest. “Oh. Ha ha. What can I say,” he shrugged as if it didn’t faze him, “I’m infatuated with fictional animals.”

  He’s killing me! I mean, one hundred percent melting the panties right off of my ass. How am I attracted to a damn homeless man? Think of him the day he helped you in the rain, Lennox. I need to keep telling myself that. I need the constant reminder. I’m supporting him. He’s living with me. I don’t take care of men; they take care of me. They support me.

  Quickly changing the subject, I picked up the bag I’d brought in with me. “I bought you a few things while I was out today,” I said, holding the bag out to him.

  The suave smile he’d had just moments ago, fell in disappointment. He cocked his head to the side and inhaled deeply followed by a loud sigh. “Lennox, I can’t accept it so you might as well take it back.”

  I was slightly offended. Did he not understand that I never buy anything for anyone unless it was a holiday or a very special occasion? “You don’t even know what I bought you.”

  “It doesn’t matter, you’ve done so much for me already, and I already feel like a burden. Anything more than giving me a place to stay while I heal is just…well, too much,” he replied untying the cute apron from behind his back. He then pulled it over his head and a hint of skin showed below the hem of his shirt. My eyes feasted on the treasure trail I wanted to follow, a trail that would lead me to the big grand prize. Stop! Stop! Stop!

  Quickly, I forced myself to look away from him. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he had no clue how stubborn I could be, or how I didn’t understand the meaning to the word no.

  He turned away from me without saying a word and walked down the hall. I was about to follow him until I heard the bathroom door close. He did it purposely. That was the only room I couldn’t follow him in.

  After waiting for about five minutes, I figured he was either hiding from me or doing things I preferred to not think about. I snatched up the bag and trotted in his room, er, the spare room. While he was playing chicken shit in the bathroom, I took the shirts, pants and underwear I’d bought, ripped the tags off, and then placed them in the drawers. He’d been using whatever he found in them that fit, so these shouldn’t be a problem. I’d show him. If I lowered my standards to buy for a fucking homeless man then by God, he was going to wear the damn shit.

  If someone had told me a month ago that I would be housing a stranger who lived lower than the poverty line, and not only considered him a newfound friend, but was also physically attracted to him, I would’ve called them the biggest damn liar on the face of the earth. Did I say physically attracted? Okay, sexually attracted too. But I blame that strictly on the dreams.

  When I heard the doorknob to the bathroom rattle, I jetted out of the room and back into the kitchen.

  Aaron walked back in the kitchen complacently as if he’d won the battle of the clothes. I turned my head so he couldn’t see the massive grin I was fighting. “Feel better now?”

  When I turned back around, his lively green’s eyed me curiously. “That’s a loaded question. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

  It then hit me just how many different ways that could come off. “I meant you’re short, well, not short, but extensive bathroom break.”

  “Are you seriously asking me in an ambiguous way if I just took a shit?” he asked with his chin tucked in toward his chest, looking at me from the top of his eyelids.

  I felt warmth crawl over my face. It wasn’t hot in the house. Was I having a hot flash? I was far too young to start having hot flashes. Was I getting sick? Something funky was going on with my body and it was freaking me the fuck out.

  Aaron grabbed my attention by snickering every few minutes. I caught him sneaking a peek at me before averting his eyes in the other direction. He was trying to act nonchalant, but he was sucking at it.

  “Is something funny? Are you laughing at me?” Could he not see I was in the middle of a self-imposed crisis?

  “Sorry. It’s just you’ve never struck me as the type of person to get embarrassed, but your pretty face is saying otherwise.”

  Holy shit! I’m blushing. Now he’s pointed it out to me, I’m blushing even more. My face feels like it’s about to engulf in flames. He just said I was pretty. That is the first time he had verbally given me a compliment. Normally it was just his stares that told me he found me pleasant to look at. And what did he mean I didn’t strike him as the type to get embarrassed? I asked him that too.

  “What kind of person do you see me as?” My curiosity was piqued. And the sad part was, I think I secretly wanted him to like me. Who the hell am I and what the hell did somebody do with the real me? Wanting some freak to be attracted to me was hitting an all-time low.

  He smirked, “Another time, another day.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “One of these days I’ll answer that question but today is not the day,” he said matter of factly.

  After he leaves we probably won�
��t ever cross paths again. I needed to know now. Dancing over to him, I grabbed his arm, and his rigid bicep flexed underneath my grip. I didn’t let go. “Tell me,” I whined.

  A playful smile played across his lips. He shook his head while he cleaned up the counter. My hold on his arm didn’t seem to bother him, in fact, he didn’t even pull it away. The more I tugged, the more he flexed. The more his muscles tightened under my fingertips, the more it turned me on. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was flirting with me…or maybe I was flirting with him. Either way, I secretly liked it.

  I wasn’t giving in, though. A little begging gets you far, or at least it did with my daddy. “Please?” I pleaded with my bottom lip stuck out. He turned to look at me, but his eyes never made their way to mine; they stopped on my mouth instead. His breathing grew heavy, and I could feel his muscles tense underneath my grip.

  “Why do I have this feeling nobody ever tells you no?” His brown lashes fanned around his eyes making the green stand out vividly. For a second, I forgot what I was going to say. He captivated me. He had this eccentric control over me. There were so many times when I looked in his eyes, like, really looked into them, and became powerless. When he realized he had me captivated, he held onto me tightly.

  Silence echoed around us.

  Until he broke it.

  Without ever taking his eyes off of me his voice dropped low and seductive. “Your icy exterior is only paper thin. Beneath that bitchy persona you try to portray, I know there’s a kind and loving heart beating. You’ve just not met the right person to crack the facade.” He pulled away from my grasp and started to walk down the hall. When he was about two steps in, he turned back around, walked up to me, bent his head down toward my ear and whispered, “Be careful, I will melt you.” Then he retreated back to his room leaving me standing with my mouth open.

  I became mute.