Page 27 of Love At First Fright
She was only wearing her pyjama shorts and an oversizedThe Omenmovie poster T-shirt. But it was after 10p.m., so it was super unlikely anyone would still be downstairs. Rosemary pulled up a pair of fluffy socks and went downstairs. Another crack of lightning splintered across the hallway, making her flinch. For a moment, she thought she heard another person crying, but that must have been her mind playing tricks on her.Dina’s anti-jet-lag muffin magic had probably faded by now, and she was no doubt feeling the effects of the change in time zones.
Rosemary flicked on a switch in the kitchen and puttered over to the pantry, a little cupboard filled with spices, dried herbs, pickles, and various jams. She imagined most of these had been made by Mrs. Fairfax. Rosemary had just noticed a chef’s jar of table salt on one of the higher shelves, reaching up, when she heard the pantry door click shut behind her.
It was an ominous click. She twisted the lock. It didn’t budge. Okay, no big deal. She put the salt down, trying the lock with both hands. When that didn’t work, Rosemary inhaled deeply and threw her weight against the door.Thatfucking hurt.
She couldn’t call anyone; her phone was upstairs. And this was an old house, doors like this were probably rusted and prone to mishap. She could call out, she supposed, but would anyone hear her over the storm?
Rosemary stood back, surveying the pantry. Maybe there was a screwdriver in here, if she was lucky, and she could use it to jimmy the lock. Before she could spend too much time ruminating on breaking out, she heard the telltale sound of footsteps on the marble tiles in the hallway. Someone was coming downstairs.
“Hello? Hello? Is someone there? I need help.”
The footsteps quickened.
“Rosemary?”
Fuck.
“Hi, Ellis.”
“Are you hurt?” He sounded a touch out of breath.
“Not hurt, just stuck. The door locked behind me and I can’t get out.”
“I see.” She heard him rattling the doorknob, but the door remained shut.
“Can I venture to askwhyyou were in the pantry this late to start with?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice.
“Would you believe me if I said I was getting ingredients for midnight margaritas?”
“Try again.”
“Getting salt to line my doors so no ghosts get in?”
“Ha, good one.” Ellis chuckled, and she heard him fiddling with the lock again. “It’s just not budging, so you’re going to stand back for me, alright, love?”
Rosemary wasn’t sure why her entire body flushed with heat, her nerve endings sparking, when he called herlove.It was just that damn British charm again, it meant nothing. Someone ought to tell her body that. She backed away to the other side of the pantry, and with a single deep slam, the door was pushed inwards, slamming against the inner pantry wall. Ellis stood in the open doorway, lit only with the dim kitchen lamplight, his chest heaving from the exertion.
He was topless. She knew this wasn’t the first time she’d seen him topless, what with all his movies and seeing him in the swimming pool. But there was something different about tonight. She was seeing a different kind of Ellis; an Ellis who wasn’t polished for the screen. He was wearing evergreen jogging bottoms, and Rosemary couldn’t help but rove her eyes down the packed muscles of his chest, the swell of his shoulders. A single bead of sweat trailed down his collarbone to his pectorals and, God help her, she wanted to lick it.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime, Rosemary. Aren’t you lucky I happened to be coming down to make myself some liquorice tea?” He grinned at her mischievously.
“Well, it’s good that you get to use those stage muscles for something useful finally,” she shot back, but there was no bite in the insult.
Ellis raised an eyebrow. She was perilously aware that she was only in little pyjama shorts, and her T-shirt, though oversized, wouldn’t hide the fact that her nipples had stiffened to points.
“I’ll have you know, I once lifted a fake fibreglass car on set. It’s hard work doing all that pretend straining.”
A cackle burst out of Rosemary before she had the chance to subdue it.
“Finally, she laughs,” Ellis said. When he was looking at her like that, it was difficult not to imagine impossible things.
“Good night, Ellis. Thanks again.”
“Good night, love.”
Rosemary left him in the pantry, acutely aware of her shorts riding up her thighs. She nearly tugged them down but realised that would only draw attention to her legs. She hurried out of the kitchen, and out of Ellis’s sight.
