Page 29 of Twisted Fate

“Delilah,” he pleaded, and I lifted my gaze from where he held me to his startling blue eyes shimmering with concern. “It’s terrible out there. It took me over an hour to get home. I had to take a totally different route. Some of the roads are completely covered with water, and you can’t see five feet in front of you. You really shouldn’t go out in this storm.”

Just then a crack of thunder reverberated through the house, punctuating his warning. Startling, he dropped my arm and took a step back, and I instantly missed the connection. I absently rubbed the skin that now tingled with the ghost of his touch.

28

Delilah

“You can spend the night here,”Vance said, and I felt the air grow thick and heavy around us. Or perhaps I was imagining it. His eyes briefly flashed down my body. It was quick, but I caught it. Maybe I was wrong about why he’d been avoiding me.

He cleared his throat and took another step back. “I’m going to grab something to eat, then I’ll make up the spare room for you.”

“Okay,” I croaked through my suddenly dry throat.

The last time I stayed here, I had no idea what was going on since I fell asleep on the couch. I didn’t know I was sleeping down the hall from Vance, something I was acutely aware of this time around. Did he wear those lounge pants to bed, or did he sleep in the nude? Would he shower before slipping between the sheets? Would he think of me while he did? My mind was running wild with possibilities. I needed to get a hold of myself before I did something stupid.

While Vance ate his dinner, I helped Charlie get ready for bed. She climbed into her bed and looked up at me with her big doe eyes. “Will you read me a bedtime story?” she asked sweetly.

“Of course,” I replied, giving her a gentle smile. I settled in next to her with a book, and she leaned into my side much like she had earlier on the couch. She was yawning and rubbing her eyes by the time the story was finished and asked me to read it again. I, of course, obliged. This time, she was asleep before I read “the end.”

“She loves that story.” I glanced up to find Vance leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. I had no idea how long he’d been there, but my cheeks warmed at the thought of him listening to me doing all the different characters’ voices.

Careful not to disturb Charlie, I slipped out of her bed, gently laying her head on the pillow and headed for the door.

“The guest room is ready,” he said, nodding across the hall.

“Thank you.” He tipped his head in acknowledgment and stepped aside to let me out.

“I’m going to be in my office catching up on work if you need anything. The TV is all yours if you’re not ready for bed.”

“Okay,” I replied, trying not to let my disappointment show. I didn’t know why I thought he would want to hang out with me. At some point, I’d begun to crave his presence and was dying to spend more time with him and get to know him better. Naively, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity. Clearly, he hadn’t shared the sentiment.

I followed him downstairs, splitting off to head to the family room while he closed himself inside his office. Turning on the TV, I returned to the show I’d been watching earlier and found where I left off when I fell asleep with Charlie. I watched a couple more episodes, leaving the volume down low not wanting to disturb Vance in case he could hear it in his office. I listened for him to head to bed, but I never heard him come out of his office.

It was nearing midnight when I finally called it a night and headed to the guest room. I was surprised to find an oversized t-shirt draped across the duvet. I hadn’t considered what I’d wear to bed (although I’d thought about what Vance would wear several times), but he’d been thoughtful enough to find me something comfortable to sleep in. A slow smile curled my lips as I picked it up and rubbed the soft, worn cotton between my fingers. It was definitely a men’s shirt, and I was instantly thankful he’d provided me with a piece of his clothing and not Sarah’s. That would have been far too strange and honestly a little uncomfortable.

I found myself wondering what he’d done with her clothes. Had he kept them hanging in their closet as though she would come back to them one day, donated them to charity, stored them away in the attic? I wasn’t curious enough to ask, and it wasn’t really any of my business, but I hoped he’d kept some special pieces for Charlie at least.

After a quick trip to the restroom where I found the extra toothbrush Vance left for me, I returned to the guest room and changed into the t-shirt before slipping into bed. The sheets were freshly laundered, cocooning me in the scent of spring flowers. I laid there for a long time, willing myself to go to sleep. I tossed and turned, fluffed and re-fluffed my pillow, but I was restless. The nap I’d taken earlier probably wasn’t helping either. Letting out a long, frustrated huff, I sat up and checked the time. It was after one in the morning. I’d wrestled around in the bed so much, I’d built up a thirst.

Climbing out of bed, I silently padded across the room and into the hallway. I didn’t want to risk waking anyone, especially Vance since he would have to work in the morning.

I quietly crept down the stairs and went to the kitchen. Opening the cabinet, I winced when the hinges squeaked. Grabbing a glass, I closed the cabinet door softly then filled it with water before taking several long gulps. With my thirst quenched, I gently placed the glass in the sink, a subtle clinking the only sound in the room.

“You don’t have to be quiet on my account,” a voice said from behind me, and I jumped. I turned toward the sound, my hand pressed to my chest, only to find Vance sitting at the kitchen table, his face hidden in shadows. His long fingers gripped the rim of a tumbler, swirling the amber liquid inside. My chest heaved with each ragged breath I took. He startled me, sending my pulse into a gallop.

“I’m sorry,” I said, unsure what I was apologizing for. “I didn’t realize you were in here.”

“Clearly,” he deadpanned before draining his drink. He stood and stepped into the moonlight, highlighting the hollow, haunted look in his eyes. I’d never seen him like this before. His features twisted with guilt and uncertainty as though a war was being waged within him. He was hurting. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to soothe him somehow, but I stood still, waiting for his next move. He slowly stalked toward me, and I tilted my head back to hold his gaze as he approached.

“I see you found the shirt I left for you.”

“I-I did. Thank you.”

“I shouldn’t like seeing you in it as much as I do,” he breathed, and he was close enough I could smell the whiskey on his breath. He’d been down here drinking alone. Before I could read too much into that, he reached for the hem of my shirt, plucking the cotton between his fingers. I sucked in a breath when his fingertips brushed the tops of my thighs.

“Why can’t I stop thinking about you?” he asked quietly, as though speaking to himself, his gaze fixed on the material he held up for inspection. Cool air whispered across the exposed skin of my thighs and lower belly. If I hadn’t kept my underwear on, I would’ve been completely bare to him.

I pressed my thighs together as a wave of desire rolled through me. His eyes flashed to mine, and I realized I let out a little moan at the thought of being naked from the waist down with his hands so close to my exposed skin. I had only a split second to take in the heat in his eyes before he struck.

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