The pull to come here had been stronger than ever before. I wanted to feel linked to something, something other than the job—something other than death. Something that was mine and no one else’s. That was why I should have stayed away. It was an assault to my already confused senses. My only excuse was that being around Frankie was seriously messing with my head.
And with my heart.
I reached up and rubbed the spot in the center of my chest where the organ that pumped blood throughout my body lay just below my ribs. It felt weird. Almost like it hurt.
I dropped my hand and rummaged around through the kitchen cabinets, looking for the antacid tablets. It was probably just heartburn.
Crunching on the chalky tablets, I glanced at the clock. It was afternoon, still too early for dinner, which was a good thing because I wasn’t hungry and I didn’t feel like cooking. Frankie was still out of sight, likely off snooping through the house. I hadn’t seen her since she told me she thought about us beyond a temporary annoying relationship.
The words caught me off guard. I knew she was attracted to me; her body responded every time I touched her and the pounding of her heart did not fall on deaf ears. Still, hearing she even considered anything more was just unsettling.
She wasn’t the first girl to ever have feelings for me or imagine a future together. It happened all the time, because I wanted it to. Making a woman fall in love with me or so close to it was my job. It’s what I did. Hell, a couple times I’d gone so far as to propose marriage. But those times were different. This was different.
I never tried to make Frankie feel anything other than hate for me.
But she did. She admitted as much.
I was just too charming for my own good.
I moved away from the kitchen and into the great room, where I knelt in front of the stone fireplace and lit the kindling already laid out in the hearth. It wasn’t cold here, but it was chilly, and after coming from L.A. the extra warmth was needed.
I didn’t want feelings between Frankie and me. I didn’t want anything from her other than for her to stay out of my business.
That’s not true,something inside me whispered.
I rubbed at my chest again. Those damn pills weren’t helping.
I accepted my solitary existence. It suited me. Trying for anything more would just end badly.
I heard her soft footfalls coming toward me and the muscles in my body tightened, getting ready to face her anger.
“Is there a path or road that will lead down toward the coast?”
She was asking me about a walking path? She didn’t want to yell at me? I stood away from the fire and looked at her. She wasn’t scowling. She didn’t look like she was going to throw something at my head. She was calm.
Well, this was different.
“Yeah, it might be a bit overgrown. It’s a couple miles, though, to get down by the water.”
“That’s okay. I feel like walking.”
“I should probably go with you. The ground is a bit uneven and if the path is overgrown, you might get lost.”
She looked slightly alarmed at the mention of me tagging along, but she covered up the look very quickly. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want to have to come looking for you when you get lost,” I growled, irritation running rampant through my veins. Was I that easy to get over, then? Did my rebuff not affect her at all?
“I won’t get lost with this giant house to use as my reference.”
“Fine. Go.” Time away from her would likely do me some good anyway. “The path starts behind the house.”
She nodded and left without another word.
I picked up a book written by Mark Twain and sat down, determined not to think about her anymore.
An hour later, a heavy rainstorm seemed to appear out of nowhere. The blue in the sky was taken over by angry dark clouds and swirling winds.
I smirked at the idea of her getting rained on even as my ears listened for her retreat back into the house.
