AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Abandoning the showers and the imprisonment, I’m now shooting for physical exertion. For hours, I’ve been tackling the firewood until the heat of the workout has forced me to go shirtless, even in October. My arms are on fire, my shoulders ache. My chest is starting to spark with pain each time the axe falls to the stump and sends vibrations through the shaft. My waist is stiff.
The intention is to kill my desire along with my muscles.
Despite being coated in sweat, the arrival of an old station wagon tells me I can’t quit it yet. Just the glint of Lizzie’s blonde hair in the passenger seat is enough for heat to stir and my interest to peak. I’ve not worn myself out yet. I need the kind of fatigue that goes bone-deep. The kind that will see me keel over in a faint if the woman so much as smiles at me.
Which she does almost immediately after exiting the car.
“Well,” she says, giving me an appreciative look up and down. “Isn’t this something?”
I straighten and my shoulders pull back. There’s something in Lizzie that causes a very male part of me to… almost preen. Like a panther in the sun, stretching under her pretty light. I’ve never reacted to a woman’s interest like that before.
Wait, hold it, bud. Just because she can appreciate a naked male torso does not mean she’s interested. Remember?
And even if she was interested - you’re not. Remember?
I deliberately turn my attention from Lizzie to Jace.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you?” he’s saying, leaning an arm on the roof of his car. A begging, puppy-dog look is plastered all over his face.
I tense. Can’t tempt her to what?
Lizzie smiles back at him.
“I’m sure,” she says. “As much as I’d love to meet people—and I will, I promise—it’s been a long week and I’m not going to be my best if I go out tonight. I’m gonna stay home this time.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you’re dumping me for this guy?” Jace asks, shoving his thumb in my direction. His tone is one of complete heartbreak.
I frown, surprisingly irritated by Jace’s natural, flirtatious manner. He’s just being Jace. As he always is with women. Maybe it’s because I’m tired but, for some reason it’s particularly annoying today.
Lizzie chuckles and I try not to feel insulted that an evening with me over Jace is obscene enough to make her laugh.
“No,” she says, “I just have a standing appointment with Stephen King and that armchair.” She points to the rocker on the porch and I’m reminded of the hours she’s spent in it this week. Shame curls in my gut. Even though I built the damn thing, I can’t help feeling like that rocking chair is doing a better job of making her feel at home than I am.
I shut out the rest of their conversation, waiting for Jace to get in the damn car and drive away. By the time he does, I’m in a foul mood, and Lizzie’s avoidance of me as she heads inside only stokes it further.
“When do you sign?” I ask, somehow desperate to halt her departure indoors.
“Huh?” she pauses, looking back over her shoulder at me. The evening sunshine glints off a few locks of hair, giving her a golden halo.
“Sign the papers, I mean. For the house. When can we start working on it?”
Trying not to look at her, I focus on the next block of wood and bring the axe head down. Thunk.
“Eager to get rid of me, Mr. Walker?” Lizzie asks. There’s a definite frostiness to her tone that has me wincing.
“No,” I say, setting up another log. “Just wanting to get on with the work. My er…” I pause and then swallow.
For some reason, I feel the urge to tell her exactly why the need for money is so pressing. Why I require a bulk sum of cash in the next seven weeks. Perhaps I feel like I owe her something? Some kind of sacrifice of my privacy to make up for the hospitality until now? Perhaps I’m just too tired to keep up my normal boundaries.
“My mom… I’m moving her to another facility. The kind that needs a fairly sizable deposit.”
“You need the money for a deposit?”
I pause, turn the axe head to the ground, and lean on the end of its handle. I look up at Lizzie, taking in her glorious golden hair, the pretty bones of her shoulders and collarbone, and the small but lush roundness of her breasts. The overalls, I know, are hiding elegant and strong lines of her legs.
“Yeah. It’s due in a few months. That’s all I’m worried about.”
I immediately know I’ve said the wrong thing.
