Words of Seduction (4 page)

S
uzanne pulled up into her driveway and stared at the lawn in dismay. It needed to be mowed—desperately. Unfortunately, she’d have to do it herself. It didn’t matter that she’d never mowed in her life or that grass cuttings made her eyes water. The house was beginning to look like a neglected relic and she knew image was everything. She remembered the days when the gardeners would come once a week to make sure that the bushes were trimmed and the grass was the right height—two inches. Her mother would use a ruler to make sure. Four hundred and sixty-eight Trellis Court always looked perfect and pristine. Not anymore. Dandelions and onion grass sprouted boldly through the soil and the lawn stood at an unruly height of over two inches.

Resigned, Suzanne went to the old shed out back and pulled on a pair of faded overalls over her brightly colored orange tank top and grabbed a disposable paper mask from off the shelf. Initially she tried to work the riding mower, but it wouldn’t start so she had to use the gasoline powered one. When she discovered that the mower was empty, Suzanne made a quick trip to the gas station and filled up. It was late afternoon before she got started.

After three attempts to get it started, Suzanne smiled with satisfaction when the mower finally roared to life, and began to cut the grass. She ignored her watering eyes and the fact that her lungs had began to feel tight. All she had to do was the front lawn. She imagined how good it would look when she was done. But after a half hour the mower started to smoke and shake.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rick’s angry voice demanded. He pushed her aside and turned the machine off. “Do you know how dangerous that is? This thing is a time bomb.”

“Dangerous what is?” Suzanne wheezed, surprised she could still talk.

He stared at her for a moment before suddenly swinging her up in his arms.

She gasped then began to cough. “What are you doing?” she eventually managed to say.

He didn’t reply. Instead he took her back inside the house and laid her on the couch. He removed her mask and threw it on the ground. “Why the h—” He took a deep breath before speaking, his tone losing some of its edge. “Why were you mowing the lawn when it’s obvious you’re allergic to grass cuttings?”

“I—”

He shook his head and swore. “Never mind. Don’t talk. I have to take care of you first. Your eyes are swelling shut and your breathing’s bad. Let me get you some ice.”

Suzanne lay on the couch trying to figure out what was happening. What was he doing there? He remembered that she was always teary-eyed around grass cuttings, but how did he know she was allergic? She had never been diagnosed. Her father had just thought it was her excuse to stay inside and avoid outdoor parties she didn’t want to attend. The thought that she was allergic surprised her. But before she could think about it any more Rick returned.

Suzanne felt the shift of the cushions as he sat down. He lifted her head and placed it on his lap. She didn’t have the energy to fight him or the comforting feeling that followed his touch. Soon she felt the cool sensation of an ice cube against her lips. “Swallow this to help with the inflammation,” he said.

She didn’t argue, she was in too much pain and could hardly see him. She didn’t want to imagine what she looked like. After a while she didn’t care as she felt his large, warm hands on her forehead and another ice cube in her mouth. Soon she let the weight of her exhaustion overcome her and drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, the room was eerily still. She saw the setting sun cast rays of light through the blinds. She sat up and looked outside and saw Rick’s car in the driveway, but she didn’t see him. She was about to turn and look for him when she noticed the lawn and her mouth fell open. It was completely mowed. Even the bushes had been trimmed. For an instant she was in the
past when Trellis Court was at its full glory. In the background she could hear her mother humming as she arranged a bouquet, and hear her father barking orders over the phone, and smell fresh bread seeping through the kitchen as Neena prepared the evening meal.

“Good, you’re up.”

Suzanne turned around and saw Rick standing in the doorway wearing only his jeans. His feet and chest were bare as he dried his hair with one of her towels. When she continued to stare at him, he frowned. “Are you upset because I used your shower?”

She pointed out the window. “Did you do that?” she asked, her voice still weak.

He nodded.

“Who did you hire? How much did they cost?”

He looked at her confused. “It was free. I did it myself.”

She widened her eyes. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

Suzanne returned her gaze to the window and rested her chin on her hands. She gazed out at the sight, her eyes filling with tears. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

Rick sat down beside her and smiled in disbelief. “You’re being polite.” When she wiped a tear away, his smile fell. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” The men in her life always had others do their work. Not that she minded. That was the way things were done. If you wanted the lawn mowed you hired someone. You always hired someone else to work for you. Even John, her agent, had flowers delivered instead of buying them himself. Rick didn’t come from that
world. No matter how much money he’d made he’d be blue collar to the core. She thought of the hours it must have taken him and her heart was filled with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” he said, a little embarrassed. “I’m glad to see you’re looking better.”

“I probably look worse than I feel.”

His eyes clung to hers and for the first time they weren’t glinting with humor or anger or pride, but something tender, genuine and real. “You always look good.”

“Now you’re the one being polite,” she teased, her heart picking up speed.

“I’ve never been accused of that before.”

“There’s a first for everything.”

“Yea, you scared the sh—stuffing out of me.”

Suzanne laughed. “The stuffing?”

“I’m trying to be polite and remember you’re a lady not used to raw language.”

“I don’t mind if you swear.”

His teasing tone grew serious. “Because you expect it?”

“No, because most times I want to swear myself.”

His gaze intensified. “I see.”

Suzanne lowered her gaze, unable to look at him any longer, but it landed on his chest, which wasn’t a safe place to look, especially when he smelled fresh from a shower. She watched a wayward drop of water flow down over his muscles and her fingers itched to do the same. If she moved just a little closer she could touch him and bask in the warmth of his body. She quickly lowered her gaze to her lap and gripped her hands. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’d prefer something to eat.”

“Oh.” She stood and grabbed her handbag. She pretended to look at the money in her wallet, although there wasn’t much there. “What are you in the mood for?”

He stood. “Let’s see what’s in your kitchen.”

She stared at him alarmed. He wanted to eat
in?
“I’m not much of a cook.”

“I bet you don’t cook at all.”

“I learned to cook some,” she said defensively.

“I guess some things do change.”

“A lot of things change.”

“I know,” he said with a sly smile, and then he walked into the kitchen. She followed him and saw him opening the cupboards.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief at the bare items. “Is this how you keep your girlish figure? By starving yourself?”

“I haven’t had a chance to shop.” She didn’t have the money, either, and preferred to stay out of town. “What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, hoping to divert his attention.

Rick opened the fridge and shook his head in disgust by the lack of choices. “I came to look at the house again in a different light.”

“Would you like me to show you around?”

He bent down to look farther into the fridge. “Let’s eat first.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I am.” He straightened and turned to her with a pained expression. “Do you know how much lawn you have?”

She licked her lips, feeling guilty. “I’m really grateful. There’s a deli—”

“We’re eating here.” He pulled out items from the fridge. “Set the table.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You know how to set the table, right? Or do you usually have someone do that for you?”

She frowned. “Of course I can set a table. I learned at the age of three.”

“I only learned last year. You think I’m kidding?” Rick said, noticing her smirk. “When we were ready for dinner at my house we just pulled back the plastic on the TV dinner.”

Suzanne got the plates and utensils and placed them on the table. “That’s a lie. Your mother knows how to cook. I tried out her oatmeal cookies at a bake sale.”

“That’s the only thing she knows how to make. That and a tequila sunrise.”

“Then how did you learn to cook?” she asked as she watched the ease in which he moved about in the kitchen.

“Didn’t have a choice. Fast food adds up and frozen dinners can start to taste the same. Besides, you wouldn’t believe how much you can make with a can of beans and some rice.”

“Oh, yes I remember when…” She stopped.

He turned to her. “You remember what?”

“You probably won’t remember.”

“I remember a lot of things,” he said in a deep voice that stirred the hairs on the back of her neck. “Try me.”

“It’s nothing.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged. “Fine.”

She watched Rick cook. He looked remarkably comfortable in her kitchen, although he shouldn’t have. She
studied him as he moved, captivated by the symmetry of his body as his muscles constricted and relaxed with each motion. She saw the scar on his left shoulder and another on his right side and felt a twinge of pain as though they were new and fresh. She remembered when he’d told her about the first one in a low flat voice that chilled her, and she recalled how he’d gotten the second one. They’d both come from his father. She turned her gaze away and studied the plates. “I’m sorry what I said before about your father.”

He shrugged. “I’d forgotten about it.” He said the words with a studied nonchalance, but the ease of his shoulders told her that her apology meant something to him.

Minutes later he placed a bowl of basil tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich in front of her.

Suzanne stared at the food, amazed by what he’d been able to create with her meager grocery items. “You’re a magician.”

Rick sat down in front of her. “No. I just know how to make do.”

She took a bite. “Delicious.”

“Hmm.”

Suzanne tried to start a conversation, but his monosyllabic answers forced her to stop. Chitchat was never a talent of his and part of her was glad. Empty conversations bored her so she didn’t mind the silence and focused on her food. She hadn’t eaten this well in days and planned to enjoy it. When they were through she offered to wash the dishes and he offered to dry. She didn’t need his help, but sensed he didn’t plan to leave, at least not yet.

“So you’re really interested in buying the house?” she asked as she handed him a plate.

Rick sent her an odd look. “Yes.” He dried the plate then set it down and rested his hands on the counter. “Either you don’t believe me or you’re so used to men lying to you that you
can’t
believe me.” His gaze searched hers. “Not all men are liars and I’ve never lied to you, have I?”

Suzanne cleared her throat and handed him a cup, hoping to break his gaze. “No.”

He didn’t take the cup from her. “Then why would I start now?”

“Right. I’m sorry. I just don’t see you living here.”

His jaw twitched. “Because it’s too grand for me?”

“No, it’s too ordinary.”

He grasped the cup, his fingers brushing hers. “There’s nothing wrong with ordinary.”

“No, but now you’re anything but.”

He grinned. “I’ve changed.” His grin slowly widened. “But I can see you don’t believe that, either, and I’m not going to try and convince you.”

She handed him the last item then dried her hands. “I can show you the house again if you want. I don’t believe I showed you the attic last time.”

Rick was silent for a moment, studying her in a way that made her feel vulnerable. She wondered what he saw, then he said, “Lead the way.”

Suzanne showed him the house again. This time she included areas she hadn’t bothered to point out before. She proudly showed him the window seat under the bay window in a little alcove off the kitchen, and the extra-large pantry in the basement. Her grandparents were survivors of the Depression, and out of habit, kept a stockpile of nonperishable food items that could feed
an entire village. Rick was impressed with the music studio off her father’s study and the guest bedroom, with its own bathroom and minikitchenette that her parents had planned on using as a mother-in-law apartment for her grandmother when she was alive. Suzanne saved the attic for last. It was her favorite spot because it had the best view and had always been a place of solace. “Mom used it as an alcove.” She pointed to the window. “And just look at that view.”

Rick ran his hand along a beam. “So this is it.”

“What?”

“Where you came to hide. You said you had to practice up here, but you also used it as a place to get away.” When she looked at him in surprise, he laughed. “I told you I had a good memory.”

“Yes.”

He picked up the violin case sitting in the corner. “Do you still play?”

She stiffened. “No.”

“Why not?”

Suzanne shrugged, not wanting to explain. “So that’s it. You’ve seen the entire house twice.” She glanced around, not knowing what else to say and fully aware of how cramped the quarters were. The attic had seemed large when she was a child, but now it felt stiflingly small. Or perhaps Rick made every space seem small. Nervously she began to squeeze by him to head down the stairs. “I’ve shown you everything you wanted to see.”

He blocked her path. “No, you haven’t.”

“I haven’t?”

“No, because I want to see you stop avoiding my
touch. I want to see you stop pretending we’re strangers and I want to see you remember this.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. Suzanne wanted to struggle against him and resist, but she didn’t. She let herself indulge in the wild, punishing sweetness of his lips, the hands that held her soft curves into his hard form and that was all he needed. He deepened the kiss and she felt her body become fire. That’s when she knew she was in danger and pulled away.