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Chapter Twenty
Chris tooka shower in Agatha’s bathroom as he waited for her to come home from her mom’s house. Though he knew where she was and how to get there, she hadn’t invited him over. It was up to her to introduce him to her family. There was no way he was going to barge in again on her family time, especially after Violet had let slip that his being there once had caused Agatha to fight with her sister. He didn’t want to be the reason she fought with anyone.
After the shower, he waited in her bedroom for her. Even after removing half a dozen pillows, he smiled at the pile still on the bed. There was still evidence of fluff on the comforter, and every once in a while, he’d see some land on the dresser or in the carpet. No matter how much cleaning up they had done that morning, there was just no way to contain the fluff. The problem with cleaning it up might have been his inability to keep his hands off her as they worked. They’d turned it into another round of seeing if he could get her to break another one. So far, no, but there was always tonight.
Now that he had touched her, he couldn’t seem to stop. If she was close, he needed her closer. Not even just for sex, which had been what all his previous relationships had been about. With Agatha, he wanted to see the world through her eyes. Not just to hear her jokes and to make her laugh, but to know what made her sad so that he could make her world right again.
Being in her room was where he wanted to be when she returned home, so he figured he might as well just wait for her there. Not that he was opposed to having sex in other parts of the house, but he liked her here best.
Once all the pillows were on a pile on the floor, he sat down on her bed and pulled out his phone. With nothing to do, he searched for interesting football stuff. Nothing much happening despite the season starting. He had thought that even if he was busy with the house, he would still think about football and all that he had lost. Instead, all his concentration had been focused on trying to fix his house … and Agatha. She had taken up a good portion of his mind, even when he was working on the house.
Trying to not think about Agatha Lovely, he typed in the name he searched for every so often, but never found anything: Chris or Christie Lovely. The name never came up on social media. Never on any websites. Never even as a phone number. Nothing.
It felt wrong looking for information on another woman in Agatha’s bed, but it wasn’t like he was interested in Chris. Though they had sex more than once, he wasn’t interested in her for that. He just wanted to apologize to her. It seemed he was destined to be a dick to one woman, and she was it.
He was so used to nothing coming up that when he typed in her name, he was surprised to get results. Books. Quite a few books written for children, but still books. Could they be by the same woman? The Chris he remembered had been an artsy girl. Looking deeper, he found no information about the author but decided he would buy her books one day and see if they gave any clues as to who the author was. Books usually had author bios in them, after all.
Hearing the front door open and close, he quickly turned off his phone and put it on the bedside table. All his focus was going to be on this Lovely, pushing the other one from his mind completely when he saw her walk into the bedroom. Her eyes landed on him and then looked away quickly, focusing on the other side of the room.
“Oh, I didn’t think you would be here,” she said from the doorway. She didn’t seem happy to see him in her bedroom.
“No place I would rather be.” He climbed out of bed.
“Your house isn’t fixed yet?” She leaned against the doorjamb as he walked toward her.
“Doesn’t matter. I still want to be here more than over there.” He reached her and ran his hands over her face, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “I missed you.”
“Okay,” she said, her body rigid.
“How was your day?” he asked, wondering if her sisters had done or said something to upset her. Had they talked to her about him?
He didn’t move any closer, just close enough to touch her, knowing that she wasn’t going to be pushed. She needed to be the one to accept him being there.
“It was okay.”
“Just okay? Did you have fun with your family? Did they say something about me?” He didn’t want to ask but needed to know.
“No, they don’t actually know about you,” she admitted with a shrug.
“Are you going to tell them?” he asked, hoping she was going to tell them one day, that she wanted to tell them. He wanted to be important enough for her to tell others.
“One day, but today was not that day.” The smile she gave him was small and seemed apologetic.
“When you are ready.” He saw her shoulders relax as she stood in front of him.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and her eyes fluttered closed.
It seemed that sleeping together hadn’t changed Agatha at all. “No wounds?” He ran a finger over the scar on her forehead.
Her cheeks pinkened, and she shook her head. “No, not today. Harper’s husband kept her under control. He’s the only thing that controls her. She was only left with bossing me around.”
“Do you listen?” he questioned, knowing she didn’t like to be bossed around.
“No, not even when I’m working for her.” She smiled at her admission, her body relaxing a little.
“What do you do for her?” He tucked her hair dark behind her ears, loving the silky softness of it.
“I’m a waiter for her catering company.” She leaned toward him a little.
“Do you like it?” He ran his fingers down the back of her neck, which caused her to shiver slightly.
She sighed and said quietly, “No, I hate it. But I love my sisters, so I do it. How was your contractor?”
“Good, I think it’ll work great. He didn’t even tell me I was killing my house, unlike some noisy neighbor.” He ran his fingers down her arms until he took both her hands in his.
“I can’t believe Nelly is like that,” she said with a chuckle, her own hands squeezing his.
“I can’t either, Agatha. Who would ever do that?” Hesitantly, he started backing her toward the bed. She followed, all her hesitance gone. Just as the back of her legs hit the bed, he kissed her, and she kissed him back. His Agatha was back.
