Authors: Sara Humphreys
“I couldn’t agree more,” William murmured and looked pointedly at Layla.
Layla ignored him, picked up a loaf of olive bread, and popped it into the basket that dangled from William’s hand. He kept his gaze on her as she perused various concoctions behind the glass of the deli case. Her springy curls fell over her shoulders as she gathered a jar of something yellow, and the wave of red practically swallowed her delicate form.
He wanted to tangle his fingers in those silky locks in the most urgent way. He cleared his throat in an effort to steel his resolve and stuffed his other hand in his pocket to keep from touching her. Layla looked up at him, and he must’ve looked as uncomfortable as he felt, because her brow furrowed with worry.
“You okay, counselor?” she asked in a voice tinged with genuine concern.
Before he could answer her, a high-pitched feminine shriek pierced the calm of the store. A short, rotund woman came barreling down the aisle toward them with her arms wide open. She grabbed Layla and hugged her with vigor.
“Well, hell’s bells,” she shrilled and rocked her back and forth. “I am so happy to see you.” Layla smiled and glanced briefly at William over the eager woman’s shoulder.
“For heaven’s sake, Ginny. Let the poor girl go. I don’t see how she can breathe with you squeezing her like that,” Ralph said with a pat on her arm. He shook his head and turned his attention to William. “I swear this woman is the biggest drama queen around.”
Ginny shot Ralph a look of disapproval, but quickly looked back at Layla. “Oh shut up, you old bugger.” She pushed Layla away and held her at arm’s length. “You are just as cute as ever.” She grabbed a handful of red curls, and William couldn’t help but be jealous. “Still have this gorgeous head of hair. When did you get back into town?” She released Layla from her grasp and crossed her arms under her large breasts as she continued her inquisition.
“Just got back today, actually.” Layla smiled and let out a slow breath. “It’s really good to see you guys.” She laughed. “How’s Anna? Is she still in town, or did Hollywood finally call her away?”
Ralph pulled Ginny into the crook of his arm. They were quite a sight. He was as tall and skinny as she was short and fat.
“No way! You think we’d let our little girl run off to Hollywood?” Ralph shook his head adamantly. “Hell no!”
“Oh Ralph, stop it.” Ginny elbowed him playfully in the ribs and giggled. “She’s doin’ great. Got married last year and is expecting a baby next month. Our first grandchild, can you believe it?” She giggled and clapped her hands but stopped abruptly when her gaze landed on William.
She’d been so wrapped up in her greeting with Layla that she’d barely registered his presence. William was wondering how long he would stand there before she said something. Her eyes grew wide as her gaze flicked from William to Layla. She smoothed her brown hair, tucking the stray hairs back into her bun.
“Well, my stars. Who is this big fella?”
Layla blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I um—should’ve introduced you—um… this is…”
William watched her fumble over her words, clearly unsure about how to introduce him. He smirked, and for a moment, considered letting her flounder. Part of him was quite curious as to how she would explain who he was, but he decided to let her off the hook.
“I am William Fleury, an old friend of the family,” he said with the most charming smile he could muster. “I’m an attorney, and I’m in town handling some business for Rosie.”
“Really?” Ginny’s eyes grew wider still, and her voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Oh, are you here to handle the sale of the farm?”
Layla’s face screwed up tightly with confusion, and her energy waves shot off in rapid fire. “What are you talking about?” Her startled gaze flew from Ginny to Ralph and back again. “Rosie’s not selling the farm. She can’t! She wouldn’t,” she sputtered.
“Oh honey, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, as her plump hand went to her chest dramatically. “It was just a rumor that I’d been hearing around town. I wouldn’t have said anything, but when William said he was a lawyer…” She sighed. “Well, I just assumed that’s what he was here in town helping her with.” Her apologetic eyes rimmed with tears, and she wrung her hands nervously. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
William could see that Layla was trying to keep her fear at bay. He was surprised at his reaction to her discomfort, and he had an intense urge to wrap her in his arms and console her. He would’ve tried, if he thought she’d accept it, but that was hoping for far too much.
He subtly shifted his body closer and reached out with soothing energy waves. Her concerned green eyes flew to his, and recognition flickered briefly over her features. She sensed his efforts to help her and didn’t kick him in the shin. It was a small victory, but he’d take it.
Layla took a deep breath and turned her attention back to Ginny. She shrugged in an attempt to play off her concerns. It was ridiculous to take her frustration out on Ginny. “No worries. I overreacted,” she added quickly.
Ralph let out a loud grunt. “Now you see, woman? You know what they say about assuming things. It makes an ass out of you and me!” He squeezed her tightly, made a tsking sound, and tossed the dish towel over his other shoulder. “Well, truth be told, you just made an ass out of you.” He winked at Layla.
Ginny’s round cheeks tinged with red. “Oh, now hush,” she simpered. “Everyone knows that Frank Clark has been trying to get Rosie to sell that place for years.” She looked up at William, obviously attempting to fill him in, but lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “Frank has been buying up old farms in the area and turning them into housing developments.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not getting Rosie’s place. That’s for damn sure. He’s not turning our home into more of his suburban sprawl.”
Without thinking about it, William inched closer and placed one hand on the small of her back. She stiffened briefly, but to his surprise, did not move away from him. He stroked the curve of her back with his thumb and sent her subtle, steady pulses of reassuring energy.
I’m sure Rosie would’ve told you if she were planning on selling the farm, Layla.
Her body relaxed, and that sweet voice slipped into his mind with an odd familiarity.
I
know, but why do I have the sinking feeling that there’s some truth to this?
His breath caught in his throat as she completed the telepathic connection. William knew it had been a risk to try and speak with her this way, but he
had
to. The desire to be linked with her in mind, body, and spirit had become an all-consuming need, and he was as dumbfounded by it as anyone. He glanced down at her for some further reassurance, but she kept her attention fixed on the older couple.
Ginny patted her arm sympathetically. “I’m sure it will all work out.” She gave William a polite smile. He could tell she didn’t quite know what to make of him. This woman was a gossip and likely had her nose in everyone’s business. He had a sinking suspicion that before the day was over, everyone in town would know about his presence.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Fleury. I don’t know how I could be so rude and just ramble on like that.” Her eyes narrowed a bit. “You’re an old friend, you say?” she asked on another fishing expedition.
Layla smiled tightly and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans, her tense reaction confirmed William’s suspicions. His fingers fluttered along her back and wandered to the edge of her jeans. The tails of her shirt that stuck out from under the short sweater were riding up, and without meaning to, his thumb slid along the strip of exposed flesh. A sizzle of electricity flared through him, and his heart beat like a jack hammer in his chest from that one stroke of skin-to-skin contact. Layla sucked in a deep breath and threw him a scolding look
. Easy there, big guy, you’re walking a fine line between being supportive and being a creeper.
William quickly put his hand in the pocket of his own jeans. Never in his life had he exhibited such lack of self-control. He cast a contrite look to Layla, expecting her to give him the look of death. To his delight, her lips curved into a smile as she turned her attention back to Ginny.
“Yup,” Layla said with a nod to William. “Old friend from New York. We worked together on some projects a few years ago,” she said casually and with such ease that William almost believed it.
“Well, any friend of Layla’s is a friend of ours,” Ginny said with a glance to her husband. “Right, Ralph?”
“That’s the ticket,” Ralph said with a wink. “Now, did you need something from the deli counter, or did you just come in here to see my handsome face?”
Before Layla could answer him, the bell at the front of the store rang impatiently. Ginny grunted a sound of displeasure. “Oh, for goodness sake, I have to get back up front. I’ll tell Anna you’re home. She’s going to be positively tickled.” The bell shrilled with impatience, and Ginny let out a huff. “Oh, I’m coming. Keep your panties on,” she shouted abruptly and marched down the aisle.
William watched her short, round form disappear and had a momentary pang of sympathy for whoever was ringing that bell. Something told him that she was going to give them an earful for interrupting her reunion with Layla and her interrogation of him.
“That woman is so excited about being a grandmother, she can’t contain it,” Ralph said quietly. He laughed and shook his head as he slipped behind the counter. “Now, what can I get for you, young lady?”
They finished their shopping quickly, and when they got to the counter, Layla didn’t dawdle. She clearly didn’t want to get peppered with more questions from Ginny. As they piled the groceries into the backseat, he looked across the way and watched Layla. The wind blew her curls off her face, and he noticed how young she looked.
Her skin was free of lines. Based on her complexion, he doubted that she spent much time in the sun. He imagined she’d burn easily. She was a natural beauty and didn’t wear a speck of makeup. She didn’t need it. Thick, dark red lashes framed those huge green eyes in a strikingly beautiful way.
Layla shoved the last package into place and leveled her gaze to William. He held it. She pushed her windblown hair back self-consciously. “What are you looking at?” she asked with a short laugh.
“You, I’m looking at
you
, Layla.” She stilled as his penetrating stare wandered slowly over every visible inch of her. William concentrated on keeping his eyes from shifting; he didn’t want to do anything to spook her or send that defensive wall back up. He took his time, committing every freckle to memory. Finally, after several minutes, his dark eyes locked with hers once again. “You are exquisite,” he said softly.
Was it possible to have an orgasm simply by having a man look at you? No. Not just look.
Devour.
He was devouring her with his eyes, and it was, without a doubt, the biggest turn on of her life. His fierce gaze locked onto hers with a piercing intensity that impacted every inch of her being.
For most of her life she’d worked hard at being invisible and flying under the radar. She loved being behind the camera and taking pictures of the beautiful and unusual, but
she
never wanted to be either. Layla avoided male attention like the plague, so as a result, her high school boyfriend and a couple of lovers over the years were the sum total of her adventures with men.
However, when William looked at her, it turned her on more than anyone ever had. No one had ever looked at her so intimately. It was as if he stripped her bare, saw straight to her very soul, and cut through all of her bullshit, which unnerved and fascinated her.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she held his powerful stare and nibbled on her lower lip. Those dark brown, almost black eyes, looked back at her unwaveringly. His skin was fair, not as fair as hers, but most people weren’t. Long strands of his unusual whitish-blond and brown hair blew free from the confines of his ponytail and danced around that insanely handsome face.
He didn’t move, didn’t flinch or try to brush them back, but kept his attention fully focused on her. His massive frame looked poised and ready to pounce on her at any moment. She was grateful that there was a Jeep between them, because if he’d been within reach, she probably would’ve tangled her fingers in that long hair.
“
Oh-my-Gawd!”
Another familiar shrill voice came from behind and split the air, bringing Layla back to reality with irritating speed. William, clearly annoyed at the interruption, looked past her for the source of the outburst. Layla cringed and gave the old Jeep tire a kick. She’d know that fingernails-on-a-chalkboard voice anywhere. Sylvia Clark. She was the only child of Frank Clark and the town’s mean girl. Layla hadn’t seen her in a few years, and their last encounter hadn’t exactly been a pleasant exchange.
Layla grit her teeth and turned to face her, all the while hoping she’d gotten really fat. However, the moment she latched eyes on her, all hopes were dashed. Nope. Still tall, blond, gorgeous, and dressed to the nines.
Where the hell was the justice in that?
The woman was like a walking Barbie doll—if Barbie had an evil twin. A flowing black wrap was draped dramatically over what was undoubtedly a designer, top-of-the-line ensemble. Shopping bags were dangling over both arms, and she looked like she’d just come from the beauty parlor. Hair done. Makeup perfect. She may be a bitch, but she was undeniably gorgeous. All these years later, Layla still felt second-rate around her.
To Layla’s surprise, Sylvia grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her the double-air kiss on both cheeks. She took her hands away quickly, as though she might get dirty if she touched her for too long.
“Well, my, my, my,” she breathed. “Don’t you just look exactly the same as you did last time I saw you?” This was obviously not meant as a compliment.
Sylvia removed her large black sunglasses and flicked her light blue eyes over Layla from head to toe. She smirked briefly, before turning her sights on William. Her eyes grew wide, and a smile slithered over her preserved face. “Well, this is new,” she simpered. “And who might you be, handsome?”
William stepped around the Jeep and moved in next to Layla. Sylvia didn’t take her eyes off him. Layla couldn’t read her mind, but she could read her energy, and it screamed sex.
Sylvia wanted to fuck William’s brains out.
Anger, jealousy, and an instinctive urge to protect what was hers flashed through her brutally. She clenched her fists and froze. What was hers? What the hell? She didn’t want him. He wasn’t hers. He was a stranger. Why should it matter how any woman looked at him?
Dammit.
Layla took her aviators out of her pocket and shoved them on, afraid her eyes would shift. She crossed her arms under her breasts and wrestled with the urge to punch Sylvia’s lights out and throw her in the nearest body of water.
William shook Sylvia’s hand and politely introduced himself. “I am William Fleury,” he said as he draped his arm casually over Layla’s shoulders. “I’m an old friend,” he said with a warm look in her direction.
Layla’s heart flip-flopped. He didn’t look at Sylvia that way. He looked at
her
.
She stilled as he pulled her against his warm body. She should’ve been pissed that he took such liberties, but frankly, she was having too much fun watching Sylvia get snubbed. This rich, beautiful woman, her entire life, had been playing with men and having them fall at her feet, including her brother, Raife. The bitch had toyed with him and teased him all the way to the altar, before she dumped him.
William, however, barely paid her any mind. She’d have to be sure to thank him for putting on such a good show, and it
was
just for show, she reminded herself.
“Old friends,” Sylvia asked suspiciously. Her gaze moved suspiciously from Layla to William as she nibbled on the end of her sunglasses. “Well, we’re old friends too. Aren’t we, Layla? Yes, sir. We go way back.” Her big blue eyes sparkled with something that would’ve looked like mischief on a nice person, but on her it screamed troublemaker. Her bright red lips curved into a phony smile. “You know, you two should come on over to the Rustic Inn tomorrow night. Tyler’s band is playing, and you’ll have a chance to see old friends.” She winked at William. “And make new ones.”
Layla shrugged. “I don’t know if we can. We just—”
“We’d love to,” William said, cutting her off.
Her face heated with anger, and William just lost any points he’d earned. The man was so damn bossy she wanted to scream. She didn’t want to go anywhere that Sylvia was going to be, but she didn’t want to have a fight with William and give her any fuel for her fire. So instead of screaming,
hell
no
, she plastered on a tight smile and managed to squeak out, “Sure. We can probably come by for a little while.”
Sylvia laughed and slid her oversized sunglasses back on. “Well, that’s just fabulous.” Then quicker than a snake, she slipped over and planted a kiss on William’s cheek. “It was very nice to meet you, handsome.” Then she turned on her heels and flounced away. “See y’all tomorrow evening,” she shouted as she disappeared around the corner. “Eight thirty sharp.”
Once Sylvia was out of sight, Layla shoved William away from her and muttered several unflattering comments about him as she got into the Jeep and slammed the door. She watched as William calmly got into the passenger seat.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Layla snapped as she started the engine.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he said in that all-too-calm tone.
She shook her head and backed out of the space. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” she muttered and pulled onto the street.
“What doesn’t matter?” William shouted above the din of traffic.
“Human or Amoveo.” Layla shot him a look, shook her head, and threw it into high gear. “Men are dense.”
They drove back to the farm in silence. She knew that he wanted to talk and fix things, but she wasn’t in the mood. The truth was that she was as confused as he was, and on top of everything else, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Ginny had said about Rosie selling the farm.
When they got home, Layla didn’t say more than a word or two to William. Rosie was nowhere in sight, so she dropped the groceries in the kitchen, mumbled vague directions about where to put things, and went upstairs. All she wanted to do was to take a hot bath and be alone. She needed time to clear her head and think.
Ever since William had come around, everything was all topsy-turvy. Nothing made sense. She couldn’t think straight because her hormones kept getting in the way and muddying up the waters. A nice hot soak in the tub could cure almost any ill, and right now, that ill was a six-foot-two-inch hunk of bossy hotness.
Layla went into her room and closed the door. She leaned against the cool painted wood and shut her eyes. She savored the familiar smell of her childhood bedroom, a combination of cedar chips, clean cotton sheets, and a hint of jasmine, all of which conjured up feelings of peace, comfort, and safety.
Layla glanced at the clock and realized that it was almost dinnertime, but she was too tired to eat. A long hot bath was first, and then maybe a chat with Rosie. She’d sensed something going on with Rosie when she’d gotten home earlier today. She, Raife, and Tati had always made a concerted effort to respect Rosie’s privacy, but sometimes her energy was so strong, she couldn’t block it out.
Layla had gotten a whiff of concern and worry from Rosie when she got home, which she originally chalked up to Rosie’s concern for her—but not anymore. She knew that there was some truth to what Ginny said, and she was damn well going to find out.
Layla shed her clothes and wrapped herself up in a soft white towel. She sat on the edge of the old claw-foot tub as it filled with piping hot water, and generously poured in her favorite bath salts. Within seconds, the scent of gardenias filled the steamy bathroom.
Layla removed the towel and caught a glimpse of herself in the fogged up mirror. She wiped at the slick surface so she could better see her reflection and clipped her hair up off her neck. She inspected her naked body with a woman’s typically critical eye and went down the laundry list of things she didn’t like about herself… too thin, breasts are too small, and way too many freckles.
Layla sighed audibly as the steam gratefully fogged up the mirror and obscured her reflection once again. “Not exactly a Barbie,” she mumbled. “More like Raggedy Ann.”
She submerged her body in the soothing, fragrant water and laid her head back on the bath pillow as her mind wandered to William. She hated to admit it, but he was beginning to grow on her, and it had definitely impressed her the way he jumped right in with Ginny and Ralph. The man didn’t miss a beat.
She’d been cold to him from the moment he’d found her. She wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d let her fumble through that introduction, but he didn’t. He even came to her rescue. She giggled and lathered up the bar of soap between her hands… he’d rescued her from a socially awkward moment.
She ran the slippery bar up her arms and thought about the way he did it again when Sylvia showed up. Her brow furrowed. It was a rescue up until the point he’d agreed to go to the Rustic tomorrow.
Layla tensed at the memory of the way Sylvia looked at William. That trollop wanted to sink her claws into him and have him for dinner. She figured that William, like every other man she’d ever known, would fall all over himself to impress her, but he didn’t. In fact, he barely paid her any attention and kept his focus on her,
not
on Sylvia.
Layla ran the slippery bar of soap over her breasts and down her belly. She closed her eyes and couldn’t help but picture William and his broad shoulders, strong arms… and that face. Sweet Jesus, that handsome face could melt butter… just like Rosie said.
Her eyes tingled and shifted harshly. Her heart raced, and for the first time, she allowed herself to feel it… to feel the rush of desire that the mere thought of him provoked.
She wanted him.
There was simply no denying that her body craved his. A contented sigh escaped her lips as she pictured him there washing her body with his strong hands. Trailing those long, nimble fingers over her breasts, down her stomach, and finally finding her most sensitive flesh, and…
I
like
to
think
of
myself
as
a
gentleman.
His gruff, seductive voice rushed into her mind with zero warning.
Layla shot up to a sitting position as water sloshed out of the tub. She covered her naked breasts and looked wildly around the empty bathroom. He wasn’t physically there, but his mind was firmly linked to hers, so at this point… it was just geography… for all intents and purposes he was in there with her.
His voice dropped low and tickled her intimately.
However, if you keep this up, Firefly, I’m going to come in there and actually do all of the things you’re thinking about.
Layla let out a shuddering breath.
Stay
out
of
my
head.
She waited for his response. The seconds ticked by loudly from the antique clock on the wall. His voice, softer, laced with disappointment, floated gently into her mind.
As
you
wish.
Silence followed, but so did something else that was completely unexpected… emptiness. When he withdrew his mind from hers, it was as though he had disappeared, but she knew he hadn’t. He was still here on the farm, yet his connection with her had been severed, leaving a horrible void where his energy signature had been only moments ago.
Layla’s heart sank, and tears pricked at the back of her now human eyes. Tears? She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. What the hell was going on? William had some serious explaining to do.
Layla got out of the bath and into her pajamas. What she needed now, more than ever, was familiarity and some alone time.
She knew that she had to talk to Rosie and that she would be expected downstairs for dinner, but she had to lie down and close her eyes. Just for a little while. Maybe a nap would help her get her bearings back, she thought as she snuggled under the soft, familiar quilt that covered her bed. Her eyes fluttered closed, and as she was gently shrouded by sleep, she mumbled, “Lots of explaining to do, William.”
The hint of a smile played at her lips as his voice drifted into her mind.
See
you
soon, Firefly.
***
Immediately after they’d returned from the store, Layla had escaped up to her bedroom. He knew she was upset with him, and he wasn’t exactly sure why, but suspected it had something to do with the woman they’d met earlier, Sylvia Clark. Based on Layla’s reaction, he deduced there was a rather cantankerous history between the two women, and now he felt stupid for not realizing it earlier. He let out a loud sigh of frustration and ran his hands over his face.