The door bursts open, and a stream of light comes in. Heaving in and out, Ocean’s by my side in an instant.
“I’m here.” Warm and calloused, his hand grips mine and the creeping up my spine eases. Concern floods his eyes, but his voice, hot and smooth like liquid gold, reassures my shattered nerves.
My body softens instantly.
“I h-hate the dark.” I pray this simple statement explains my freaking out.
Leaning down, Ocean switches on the side lamp which I could have done myself if I wasn’t being so dramatic. “Oh, I’m an i-idiot.” Rolling my eyes, Ocean whole-heartedly smiles making my insides slump into a mush of goo and my lady-bits, hell I sound like a sixty-year-old woman, tingle with desire. How can someone so menacing make me finally come out of my introverted ways?
“I should have realized after last night but when I returned from the shops in the daylight you were still fast asleep, then I got busy making us dinner.”
“You c-cook too?” Slapping my hand over my mouth, he bursts out laughing and I cringe at my stupidity once again.
“As opposed to killing dirtbags and picking up damsels in distress?”
That’s exactly what I mean but I cannot say that out loud, although I don’t know why not, I’ve already put my foot in my mouth. “Perhaps.” Bowing my head down, I look up through my lashes.
“I don’t think you’re as innocent as you make out, Bluebell.”
“Maybe, m-maybe not. But that’s s-something you will have to work out f-for yourself.”
“I think I’m going to enjoy working you out.” Piercing me with his stare and smile, my body zings alive like a match on a wick of dynamite ready to explode. I can’t disagree with him.
“You must be starving, sleeping through lunch and now it’s late. I’ve made some homestyle lasagna if you feel up to it.”
Food’s been the last thing on my mind after the scones, but now there’s talk of it, the emptiness in my stomach could fit a horse in it. “Sounds perfect. I’ll freshen up and come out.”
“I bought you a few pairs of stretchy pants and sweatshirts that are more to your size, they’re in the bathroom.”
Removing his body from the bed, he’s gone before I can say thank you once again. I’m going to have to show him I’m thankful ‘cause he’s going to get sick of hearing it.
Damn, what am I saying? Heat swamps my face and I know I’m as red as a beetroot. Stringing two words together is an effort, how will I, an inexperienced twenty-six-year-old florist show him? Ocean is a guy who has witnessed and lived through many diversities of life. His own words describing illegal acts he’s been a part of. Any sane person would be running a mile from him, yet he’s taken me in, with my life-threatening problem and made me feel safe and not as alone as what I would be back in my apartment waiting for my brother to come and kill me. He’s been a true gentleman and my savior. No other man comes close to Ocean and what he has done for me.
My eyes search the room for my small crossbody bag I had on me when I fell locating it on the floor on top of my pile of washed clothes. Shaking my head, I wonder why is this man being so good to me? Picking it up, I take out my phone and there’s no surprise, no one has tried calling me. That sums up my life to a tee. Clicking on Google, I search for crime syndicates in LA. I scroll through image after image and there’s none there of Ocean. Page two and three of images are the same. A small picture of a guy in handcuffs catches my attention on page four. Hitting the photo, it enlarges and there’s Ocean with longer hair falling across his left eye, cops hold his arm, yet his face looks calm and relaxed. The caption ‘Savages Strike Again,’ heads the top of the page. Scrolling quickly through the words: slay, caught, murder, casino, brutal, strippers are highlighted in fluorescent yellow in my mind. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to breathe.
My mind races but even after two days, I know there is another side to Ocean that someone hasn’t been able to penetrate. He’s still the guy that has treated me kindly and gently since being in his care. As a client once told me, don’t believe everything you read or see on the internet. Putting my cell back in my purse, I’ve wasted enough time. I need to shower and go and work on how I’m going to thank this man for what he is doing for me.
“Lasagna will be on the table in five minutes.” My legs move swiftly to the bathroom.
“I won’t be long.” Showering in less than two minutes, I towel dry my hair and wish I had my hairdryer, makeup, and more than sweatpants and sweatshirt to put on. My fingers rake through my hair, lucky it’s short and I try to make it look appealing, but it hangs there.
“Crap.” Looking in the mirror, I look like the frightened young girl I did years ago, except I have larger boobs and a bigger butt. Holding my chin up high, I take one last glance and put a smile on my face. A devilish handsome man has made me tea. I’m going to enjoy tonight like never before. To be truthful, it won’t be hard, ‘cause I haven’t been on a date with a guy in forever. So whatever happens, I’ll savor the sexy company and heavenly smelling food.
Odette Hunt was an incredible cook before alcohol consumed her life. In fairness, Mom tried hard to hold on to everything, but my father’s business took precedence over everything, including his family. Melody and I were mere figures who inhabited the palatial palace Dad bought with his money he made from capital ventures after he shipped his children off to summer camp when I was sixteen and Melody was fourteen. Mother was like a love-struck fool trying to gain Dad’s attention any way she could. Her children didn’t exist, dresses got shorter, makeup applied heavier, haircuts and change of colors every few weeks, parties galore and when none of it made a difference, alcohol became her husband. It made her feel good and it was always there.
“Gosh, that s-smells divine.” My hairs raise on my arms listening to each syllable.
“An old recipe my mother taught me.” Placing the dish on the table, I look up and her smile captures me completely. I grab the chair to steady my legs as a slow smile spreads on my lips and I usher for her to sit down.
“I can’t w-wait to try it.” Her shoulders stay square and her eyes stay on mine. “But you didn’t h-have to go to this m-much trouble.”
Sitting down opposite her, I look at the array of drinks I have set up on the table, in hindsight I guess the five different drinks were a little overkill.
“I didn’t know what you drank, so I went for a few options.” Shrugging my shoulders because it really is no big deal, we both burst out laughing as Bluebell runs her hands over the cocktail glass with a bottle of prepared espresso martini near it, there’s a cola can, a champagne glass with white wine in it and then a red wine goblet as well.
“I t-think you have most things covered here.”
My pulse thunders watching her wide eyes and contagious smile.
“I have a beer and cider in the fridge too if you’d prefer those or juice and of course water.”
“You’ve thought of e-everything.”
Her sincere look draws my eyes and when her hand clasps over mine, my insides explode like a supernova. Vibrant colors take over my vision and with it all sense of reality seconds before the blast. I’m drifting in a galaxy unknown to me.