I chuckled as I watched him. He was singing along with the music playing over the speakers I could see attached to the corners where the kitchen transitioned into the front of the house of the restaurant. Watching the movement of his muscles under his clothes had me smiling in spite of the Christmas songs which normally pissed me off — reminding me of what I didn’t have.
A sigh escaped my mouth.
“What’s a pretty thing like you so upset about?” The deep voice caused a shiver to radiate up and down my spine.
Slowly raising my head I fell into deep pools of luminous brown. His gaze twinkled with humor and his wicked smile caused my knees to go weak. I clung to the counter in front of me as it was the only thing keeping me on my feet.
“Your pizza will be done in a couple of minutes.” His grin widened and he reached out to stroke a finger over the back of my hand— “I promise.”
“Eli,” a woman snapped from a doorway at the side of the kitchen area. “Those pizzas aren’t going to make themselves.”
“Mia—”
“They’ll be here in twenty minutes,” she interrupted.
With a sigh, he headed back to his pizza board. “Just providing good customer service, Mia,” he shouted as she turned on her heel and disappeared.
Shit, a player, I mumbled as I closed myself and breathed deeply to recenter and find my balance.
“Here you go” — the man’s voice was only inches away and I jumped in surprise — “Your pizza.”
“Th...Than... “ — I cleared my throat with irritation. I didn’t have time for this. “Thank you.”
I reached out to take the pizza and he smirked as he held on to it for longer than necessary. He made a show of caressing his fingers over my own.
“Name’s Eli.”
“Well, Eli, I already tipped when I paid.” I snatched the pizza and turned for the door as the bell over it jangled.
Cold air swirled inside along with a darkly dressed individual. It wasn’t until he turned and shook out his hat that I saw his badge gleam on his chest. A cop. I gulped down the fear that tried to surge inside of me. Mrs. Jenkins wouldn’t send a cop after me for the back rent.
“Eli?” He called into the back of the restaurant.
“Larry!” Eli returned the greeting. “You’re early. I’ll have the pies done in another fifteen minutes.”
“I’m not here for the pizza,” the officer replied. “Eli Angelo, I need you to come down to the station with me.”
“Why are you taking me in this time, Officer Jones?” The pizza-tossing Eli’s demeanor changed at the news and he emphasized the officer’s name with a bit of sarcasm.
“Indecent exposure.”
“For?”
“Streaking through the Holiday Hotel lobby last night.”
“I wasn’t there… I was out with Lance… I think.” Eli stammered. “What day is it?”
“Thursday. Last night was the Baptist’s church service.” The cop glared at the pizza-man with disapproval.
“Lance and I were just hanging out—”
“Doing?” The officer stopped him mid-sentence.
“Just a few drinks. I don’t remember leaving… oh… oh… oh shit! But, I was drunk!” He wailed as the cop stepped forward and went through the motions of cuffing his suspect.
He began reciting the man’s rights as he pulled him from the restaurant.
“You’re always drunk,” An older man who appeared behind the counter sighed sadly.
Throughout Eli Angelo’s arrest, I stood in stunned silence until that last statement. There were a few moments while I watched the man toss pizzas and sing Christmas carols that I began to think what-if. During mom’s illness and after her death I’d always had an excuse why I couldn’t date — this was the first time I thought it might not be too bad.
Then I’d seen the woman’s reaction to him, he’d gotten arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct — streaking a church service of all things — and that last sighed comment had locked down my thoughts of giving actual living a chance. Keeping to myself kept me safe. Kept me from being hurt. I was okay with being alone. Really, I was.
I rushed to my car and settled in to eat my pizza. Flipping back the lid, a smile awaited me — one made out of pepperoni. My heart squeezed at the thoughtfulness. I knew he’d done it because he’d noted my stress.
Eli Angelo was a player, a troublemaker, and I knew I should stay away from him. But, damn did he tempt me to take a chance.
Chapter Three
My piece-of-shit car rattled as I drove down a long driveway. The drive wasn’t much better than the road I’d turned off, both were covered in a thin layer of gravel which did nothing to keep my tires from slamming into potholes that I feared would break an axle. Back in Las Vegas, the roads were bad but not this bad.
Gripping the steering wheel I rounded a bend. A two-story white-washed farmhouse stood in a large square of grass. A tree line separates the grass from the empty fields that lay beyond.
The home was secluded and far off of the road. I’d only caught glimpses through the trees as I approached from the road. During the growing season, the farm was probably even more hidden. I parked in a larger gravel area near a garage and took several moments to take in the house.
There were black shutters, a wraparound porch, a large red barn behind the house, and a few other outbuildings. I could just make out where someone had landscaped around the edges of the porch and created a small garden or flower bed directly in front of a large bay window.
In the center of the garden was a sign on a post. The sign said ‘Ohio Century Farm’ and had a small plaque which dangled beneath it which read – ‘Wood
