Silence. Dead silence. In the sanctity of our shaded alcove, I didn’t even move.
“Holy shit, he’s not right is he?”
I let my handsome employer stew for a moment, saying absolutely nothing as my own grin widened. I could feel his panic growing. His internal alarm.
“No,” I said finally. “I was never a wedding planner.”
Camden exhaled, long and slow through clenched teeth. His shoulders slumped in relief.
“Was he at least close though?” he squinted.
I smiled sweetly. “No hints. Remember?”
“Yeah yeah…”
I tucked my clipboard back beneath one arm and stared up into those gorgeous blue eyes. It would be so easy to make a move right now. So simple, to just close the distance between us and plant my lips on his.
But he was my boss. One of three of them, anyway. And not that it would’ve stopped me if he’d made the move, but for me to make the choice myself… well…
It would be like snubbing the other two.
Not to mention, opening a huge can of worms.
I sighed internally. The can of worms I could deal with. In fact, I was actually looking forward to it. It had been way too fucking long since I’d had any sort of… release.
Besides, I rationalized, the guys had flirted with me off and on for weeks now. Or at least, two of them had. Roderick on the other hand…
“The deal still stands though, right?”
Camden stared down at me, his expression hopeful yet mischievous. His full, beautiful mouth looked so kissable right now I could barely stand it.
It would be so easy. So simple.
“Yes,” I said, choking my way past the lump in my throat. “Of course it still stands. I’m not exactly a woman who goes back on her word.”
It was a deal I’d made on an almost nonsensical whim, after they’d spent half a day rattling off various guesses. But now I only gave one guess per week, for each of them. One chance for my three employers to figure out who I was.
Or rather, who I’d been before this.
“First one of you to guess what I used to do before I came here…” I said slowly, reaching out to run a teasing finger along the outer edge of my Camden’s arm.
His eyes flashed. My lips curled into an even bigger smile.
“Gets to take me bed with him.”
Two
KARISSA
Not only did the key stick in the lock again, but this time the door itself refused to open. I shouldered it, trying to channel Ripley from Aliens, and promptly bounced back into the darkness of my front porch.
The frogs and crickets laughed in chorus from the surrounding woods.
I got up again, this time determined to use mind rather than muscle. The old wood was swollen, the paint flaking. Hell, it was humid enough out here that everything was swollen, including me.
Why in the world did you even take this place?
Because it was cheap, that’s why. I’d driven out to Rhode Island for a fresh start, a new beginning. A beautiful apartment in Newport, maybe even one with a balcony and an Atlantic breeze.
But Newport was way too expensive. Ditto for Middletown, Bristol, and even Ocean Grove. The further north I bounced, the more affordable things got. I ended up north of Swansea, renting an old vacation bungalow on some forgotten lake.
But the realtors were treacherous, and the photos I’d seen had put lipstick on a pig. The place turned out to be a dump, the lake a swamp. Even worse, it was in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I convinced myself that I’d move in temporarily and search for something better, just as I’d convinced myself I would enjoy the solitude.
That was almost a year ago, and neither of those things had panned out. Living out here was lame at best, and downright spooky at its worst. If it weren’t for the reno job keeping me at work twelve hours a day, I’d probably have already packed it in. The pay was solid, the work rewarding. Even better, turned out I was good at it. Real good.
Hey, who would’ve thought?
Right now I had bigger problems though. I was dirty, exhausted, and in need of a shower. If I didn’t get inside soon I’d be likely devoured by mosquitoes swarming in off ‘the lake.’
“Fuck you, door.”
Approaching the knob again, I examined the old lock. My key wasn’t fitting because something was broken off inside it. Something shiny and jagged, like the end of a paperclip.
SHIT.
A chill shot down my spine as I glanced nervously around. Someone had broken in, or at least tried to. Again.
This is bullshit this is bullshit this is bullshi—
I kicked out in frustration, and to my surprise the door swung open. It slammed into the opposite wall with a dull bang, sending a blizzard of paint-chips floating down like snow.
“Hello?”
Even the sound of my own voice seemed scary. In my own home.
“Anyone still here?”
I flipped the switch, and the overhead fluorescents flickered on. One of the bulbs refused to catch though. It sat there fluttering darkly, maybe ten-percent illuminated. The lack of any real light made my kitchen seem even more dreary and depressing than normal.
“You’re probably pretty disappointed,” I called out, still talking to my phantom intruder, “and I can’t blame you. Nothing much to steal here, I’m afraid. Unless you want that stack of bills over on my—”
I whirled into the living room, flipping that switch too. The lights came on. Everything seemed okay.
“If you’re in my bedroom that’s even more disappointing,” I continued, creeping along. “Not much going on in there, either. Unfortunately…”
Halfway through the kitchen I grabbed it: the sawed-off baseball bat I’d found in the crawlspace. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely better than nothing. The tape-wrapped handle felt heavy and reassuring in my hand.
“If you want out by now, I can’t say I blame you. I’ll just step aside, and you’ve got a clear shot to the front door…”
I pushed on the bedroom door, then hugged the wall.
