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I’m laughing hysterically. “That was priceless. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her turned down.” I subconsciously grab his bicep with my hand as we both laugh, crossing the street heading back to the inn. I notice his eyes immediately go to my touch.
“Sorry,” I whisper all breathy, still touching his bicep. Flashes of my dreams flood me. My sex is tingling. I pull my hand back immediately, looking up at him.
“Don’t be. I’m not.” He smiles looking to make eye contact with me. “Seriously, you didn’t cross any lines.” I just nod as we turn the corner and the inn comes into sight.
I see Eric’s car is in the yard. The dread is pooling; I really don’t want to go inside—inside to my life. “Thank you,” I quickly tell him as we near the porch.
“For what?”
“Today! I haven’t enjoyed a Saturday in a long time. Or anyone’s company in a long time. Possibly ever as much as I did today.” I smile as I look at him. “So thank you for lunch and the conversation.” I exhale I as I grab the front porch door.
“Anytime Amelia. I have never had such a relaxing day. Not one I can remember in the company of a female, anyway.” He laughs as he follows me in.
I walk into my private quarters to find Eric. “Where the hell have you been?”
QUINTON
My morning run started on Centre Street and I ran straight, all the way to Atlantic Ave. I know I’ve only run maybe two miles. I look at my shoes, Amelia said the beaches were nice for running. “Lovely” was her exact word, which makes me grin. She’slovely. I can always buy new shoes. I run past the vacant lot that I’m interested in buying. It would make a great location for an outside bar, feet in the sand type of atmosphere. I continue to run to clear my head. Amelia is a married woman. No doubt married to an ass. I heard plenty of their conversation to know he was acting like a son of bitch. I wonderif Eric’sphysically abusive,he definitely is verbally.Regardless, nothing can happen between us. I don’t cross that line. However, I did enjoy our lunch yesterday. She’s quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She’s attentive and giving. I wouldn’t have thought of buying a wedding gift for complete strangers. How did I dream of her before I met her? What the hell does that mean?
I want to see Amelia before breakfast. We won’t have any alone time once the breakfast hour starts. I turn around and head back to the inn. I need to see her before I leave. I stand outside the courtyard, watching as the kitchen window lights are on. The sky is purplish pink from the morning sun waking up. I drop down and do some pushups on the lush ground of the garden, thinking about what I’m going to say to her. I need some reason to talk to her.
I roll on my back and start doing ab crunches. Shit, I have amazing body strength, my muscles are going to be bulging with exhaustion when I see her. I do twenty burpees. I wonder what she’s cooking for breakfast this morning. She’s so beautiful. I do forty pushups to make my morning wood disappear.
Walking inside through the side porch I hear her in the kitchen. The aroma coming from the kitchen makes my mouth water. I slow my walking as I hear Amelia’s voice.
“Stop it,” she hisses, “stop. I am trying to start breakfast.” She’s not laughing. She sounds annoyed.
“I want some attention.” His desire makes my stomach want to convulse. He’s obviously putting the moves on his wife.That’s right Quinton, his wife, I think to myself as I stand outside the kitchen listening.
“Go away.” I steal a glance in the kitchen and she’s quickly running around the island. “I am busy. I mean it. I’m not in the mood for you to bother me, Eric. We have guests in the house.”
He grabs at her, pulling at her dress. She doesn’t like his attention at all. She’s pulling her dress out of his hand. Only he’s a fucktard and not getting the hint. He’s practically man handling her. I jerk back so they don’t see me. She’s whimpering as she shoves him hard.
“What the fuck Amelia?” He laughs. “You going to hit me with that pan?”
“If you don’t stop.” I steal another look, she’s literally holding a pan at him. Her dress strap is broken. Her lips red from unwanted kisses. Her neck has splotches from being groped. I duck back behind the wall,shit. That fucktard needs his ass beat.
“I didn’t marry a fucking nun.”Dude, she doesn’t want you.
“Don’t you dare talk to me about what we married,” I hear her hiss as the pan hit the gas grates. A moment later I hear shuffling and her fussing at him to get off her. She sounds like she’s whimpering, almost panicked sounding.Shit!
I quickly open the screen door and let it slap against the wood. I casually walk by the door and turn like I didn’t expect to see anyone. He’s standing with his back towards the door. His hands are on the end of the island and he’s watching her. She’s wiping her eyes really quick as she looks up and softly smiles at me. Her eyes run over my body.That’s right, I know you like what you see.I quickly cut my eyes to her fucktard husband in an effort to remind her he can see her checking me out. He turns around.
“Oh good morning, Quinton.”Hehas to be bipolar.
“Good morning.” I look at Amelia fiddling with her ruin dress strap. “Do you already have coffee, by chance?”
“Yes.” She smiles as she quickly grabs me a mug and pours my coffee. “How do you take it?” she asks. I’m imagining breaking every bone in Eric’s body.
“Black is fine. Thank you.” I sip it watching them, both are quiet. Amelia is working on breakfast. “What’s the menu?”
“Baked egg cheese pesto cups, oven-baked apple caramel pancake, bacon, sausage, fresh peaches and strawberries. Coffee and juice.”
“Sounds delicious.” I watch as fucktard turns his nose up at her menu. “Check out is eleven?”
“Yes.” Her eyes are pleading. I can see she wants to talk with me, but he has ruined it. I wasn’t expecting him to actually be awake. I cut my eyes towards her husband, with almost a growl on my face. She looks down.
“Is it okay to take my coffee to my room?”
