“To get away,” James completes.
“Yeah. Exactly.” I put out some candles that I find and situate them on the counter. We trade a look that lingers. I want to be truly annoyed that he’s here, invading my planned sanctuary space, but I can’t stop looking at him. Believe me, I tried. I keep trying.
Something about James sparks something deep within me. I can’t deny it. I don’t think I ever once looked at Mark the way I’m looking at this man now.
I don’t even know him. I don’t want him to stay, and I don’t want him to go. Not before I find out how those thick arms of his would feel around me.
“What about you?” I ask. “Seven days…that’s a long time to get away by yourself.”
“I’m a cop,” he explains. “Was a cop. Maybe.”
“You maybe are a cop?” I tilt my head, confused.
“I don’t know if I will be much longer. The last case I worked…” He slowly shakes his head, shifting his gaze toward the fireplace. “It got to my head. I needed a break.”
Oh. Damn. Now I feel bad. This whole time I’ve been wrapped up in why I needed to be here, I didn’t once wonder why James was here.
I cross the room, folding my knees under me as I sit down next to him. “I’m so sorry, James.”
His eyes go soft when he looks at me. “Tell you one thing, Alexi. That douchebag who cheated on you?” He reaches for me, curling a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Total fucking idiot,” James says.
I fiercely blush. I was right, his brown hair does look silky soft now that it’s almost dry. I want to reach to him too, and feel it for myself as I sweep those locks off his brow.
“You think so?”
“I know so, kitten.”
There’s that kitten again. Ugh. Those eyes though. Come to think of it I’m pretty sure Marky never looked at me the way James is looking right now. Like he sees me.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“For saying he’s an idiot.”
James laughs. I stand up.
“And, for giving me something to write about.”
James
Alexi fires up her laptop and her fingers hit the keys, typing furiously for a solid half hour. It’s dizzying. I’m not sure I can think that fast, let alone type.
I’m not on any kind of deadline like she is, although a decision does weigh in the balance. I can’t think of that right now. I shouldn’t anyhow. I need to treat this time off like a real sabbatical even if it’s only seven days.
On occasion she leans back in her chair, her eyes scanning the page. She does this thing where she folds her bottom lip between her thumb and index finger as she thinks. She drains the last of her coffee and I fill up a new one.
I like Alexi in work mode. I like her in every mode I’ve seen so far, in fact. A lot. I try to stay out of her way, give her space to concentrate. I wonder what she’s writing about.
I resist the urge to ask her.
But I stand firm, I am not going anywhere with that storm getting more severe. And it’s almost late. It wouldn’t be wise to leave this kitten all alone up here when the lights go out. Which, they inevitably will.
We found the lighter earlier, but just in case, I dig through some of the kitchenette drawers in search of matches. Alexi issues a feral-sounding groan, as if she’s part mountain lion instead of a cute, curvy human girl.
“Everything alright?” I ask, cautiously.
“Do you have to be so loud?”
Fishing out the matchbox, I gingerly slide the drawer closed. “No?” I whisper, very, very quietly.
“Very funny,” she rolls her eyes. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus like this,” she heaves a sigh. “I needed to be alone,” she says. “No offense.”
I screw up my face. If that wasn’t Alexi focusing…I’m almost afraid to know what is. Suicidally, maybe, I cross the room over to her. “Maybe alone isn’t what you really need. Maybe you need inspiration.”
“Ya think,” she deadpans. I crack a smile she doesn’t see, because the lights flicker off and on, off, and on again. Her eyes get big as her laptop reboots. “That can’t be good.”
The wind howls louder on cue, knocking the power out again. Her laptop screen blanks. We wait in silence, our breaths held.
This time, the dark remains, the only light the glow of the fire.
“No no no,” Alexi softly cries. “Shit shit shit!”
“I’ll burn some candles.”
“Alright.” Alexi takes a few more deep breaths, then, resigned, she pushes back from the table and goes to sit by the fire. Wise choice. It’ll get cold in here pretty quick. I light one of the candles in case someone needs to use the restroom. From the hall closet, I grab a couple of soft, warm fleece blankets.
I drape one across her shoulders. She looks up at me, smiling. “Thanks.”
I sidle in close to her. She lets me. “Were you able to save your work?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s not that. I was on a roll,” she says, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “The words were finally…flowing.”
I pull a face. “Thought you said I was distracting you?”
“You were.”
“I see.” Lie. I’ve met enough women in my lifetime to know I shouldn’t try to understand it now. It makes sense to her, I suppose.
“Glad you made that last pot of coffee.” Alexi holds up the glass mug.
“Did it help?”
“Tons,” she says, draining the last few drops. We sit in silence for a minute, staring into the flames. “I think it’s admirable,” Alexi says eventually.
“What is?”
“You,” she says, “giving yourself a break.”
“I needed it. Not just the time off. The distance too. I need to think about if retiring’s the next step for me.”
“You’re going to retire?” She sends me a look.
“Maybe.” I shrug.
“How old are you?”
“Forty-two.”
“I’m twenty-six,” Alexi says.
I chuckle. “Sorry, babe. Guess I can’t sleep with you.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” she counters, laughing. She whips her head to look at me, defensively. “And, why not?” Her tone is sharp. Playful, and not playful at all.
“You’ve heard of the half-plus-seven rule?”
“Hm-mm.” She shakes her head.
“My age in half, plus seven.” I lean back on my hands. I proffer a smirk. “You’d need to be at least twenty-eight to ride this ride.”
“Whatever!” She cuffs my chest, and her cheeks flush. Dammit, she’s sexy. It’ll be alright. I’m not a great rule-follower. I keep that part a secret, for now.
Her beautiful hazel eyes study mine for a beat. “You said I needed inspiration.”
“Can’t hurt.”
“What kind of inspiration?”
“Any kind.”
“Where do I get it?”
“Right here, kitten.”
“Alexi,” she says.
“Alexi.” I grin.