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And what, exactly, could he do about it?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Pixie was immediately charmed by Doug’s cottage.
Despite the mental picture he’d drawn earlier, the place was in far better shape than she’d imagined. She could see, in the glow from her headlights when she pulled in, that he’d replaced some shingles on the front, and when she got out, the smell of fresh pine hitting her nose indicated he’d been even busier than that. But it was too hard to see, with darkness blanketing the woods.
Luckily, he had electricity, even though he said the panel would need to be updated for all the new appliances and systems he wanted to install.Andhe’d told her the place had cold running water, which was really good, considering…bathroom usage.
Right now, walking in, with only the few table-lamps he was turning on to throw warm light around the space, it looked…cozy.
Doug told her to feel free snooping around while he showered, and once he disappeared, she took him at his word, finding the place livable, and even partially furnished. He’d obviously picked up some second-hand stuff for his living room,but the pair of overstuffed chairs and the well-loved sofa fit the space, perfectly.
She poked her head into the kitchen and laughed. It was…sparse. There were holes where the stove and refrigerator had once been, with a dorm-sized fridge taking up very little space. Doug was also, quite obviously, using sawhorses and planks for a table and chairs. But Pixie had vision, and she could see how the room could be made charming. She ran her hand over the large, antique farmer’s sink in appreciation. She’d have to ask Doug what he had planned, and hope he asked her opinion. The nearly empty room had pictures of a finished kitchen springing to life within her head; colors and surfaces. And wasn’t that odd? She’d never once considered herself interested in decorating. Her bedroom at home was virtually the same as it had been when she was a teenager. But this…
She could envision the changes she would make if it were hers.
Which it wasn’t.
Shut it down, Pixie.
Leaving the kitchen with a sigh, she went back into the living room, then meandered down the one hallway which headed toward the back. She avoided the bathroom where the water now ran for Doug’s shower, but continued to the next door down and pushed it open.
Oh, my.
Pixie’s mouth dropped open. She’d entered a pretty decent sized room with wooden floors and white plaster walls, but…it was the bed that really caught her eye. The wrought iron frame held the biggest mattress she’d ever seen. Was it larger than a king? Pixie wasn’t sure, but it was clearly a new piece of furniture, piled high with a colorful array of quilts and blankets. The whole thing made her want to dive right in and burrow under the heap she knew would hold Doug’s woodsy scent.
She pulled her brain back out of her ass, chastising herself for thinking in terms of anything intimate with Doug, and firmly walked backwards, closing the door behind her. There would be no burrowing. No smelling. Doug had made that abundantly clear. And even though he’d barely scratched the surface of the “story” he’d promised to tell her about his past, she knew from the little he’d revealed, that his distrust of women was not misplaced. Imagine, his bitch of a mother allowing her ten-year-old son to run drugs for her and her friends.
Pixie didn’t know if the woman was still alive—even though Doug spoke of her in the present tense—but if she was, Pixie would like nothing more than to find her, confront her, and bitch-slap her into next week.
Realigning her thoughts back to the house, Pixie wandered to the next door in the hallway and found a room that was clearly being used as Doug’s staging area for repairs. There was a crudely put-together workbench, scraps of this and that, and…tools everywhere. She giggled. So much for the fastidious Doug he’d let her see so far. She was now getting a glimpse of his creative, slightly out of control side. And what a lovely jumble.
Coming out of his work area, Pixie spotted a back door to the hallway, and when she peeked out the glass which made up the entire upper half, even in the dark she saw there was a back porch of sorts. It was covered, and its steps led down to a body of water she could see because the moon glinted off its surface. She hoped she’d get to ogle that view in the daylight, but that was yet to be determined.
Walking back to the living room, she plunked herself down onto the comfy sofa and immediately her phone began vibrating. She pulled it out of her pocket.
It was a text. From Talia.
Hey Pix. How are my two girls doing?
Pixie grinned. Hersecondgirl was obviously May.
Actually, I’m not home right now,Pixie enlightened her. But she’s good. Doug fed her earlier tonight. It’s been a busy and messed up day.
How would her sister respond to that?
Wait. Doug? STFU!! What’s he doing hanging around? Last I knew, he ghosted you.
Pixie’s fingers danced over the screen.
He did, but apparently a twittering, interfering little birdie told him I’d be at her house this weekend, so he just happened to make himself my designated protector.
Hell, yes!!!!Talia was heavy on the exclamation points.So why aren’t you there with him, trying to get under his skin a little deeper? Hmmm?
This part would blow her sister’s mind.
We’re actually at his place in Newport?Pixie wasn’t sure why she added the question mark.
