Absolute Zero (34 page)

“Average,” he answered. They were playing some type of strange avoidance game, he realized as they continued to look at each other. Her wary expression probably matched his.

He decided to test the waters…

“And your parents?”

She sat up immediately. “You know, we have an hour left,” she stated almost breathlessly as she turned to regard him. “You’re still fully clothed,” she commented as she swept her eyes down his body.

“Well, yes. I wasn’t planning on…”

“I think it’s only fair that I return the favor…” she stated as she pushed him to his back and immediately began to unbutton his jeans.

“I won’t fight you,” he laughed out as he lifted his hips to help her along.

“Good to know,” she stated before her mouth surrounded him. She ran her tongue down the length of him, satisfied when a sharp intake of breath occurred. “Let’s see if
you
know any Swahili,” she stated and heard the softest laugh come from him. She brought her hands into the mix and his laugh turned to a moan. A satisfied grin formed on her lips before she took him in as far as she possibly could.

*****

“Why does a body
this
small need
this
many clothes?” He asked from behind her as she stood in the middle of the overstuffed walk-in closet searching for her robe.

“They seemed like a good idea at the time,” she mumbled absently before her hand found the fluffy white material. She yanked it off the hanger and immediately wrapped it around herself.

“You’re going to be late,” she breathed out as his arms captured her from behind and held her to him.

“I know. This has to be the worst feeling ever,” he stated truthfully in her ear before kissing it. “Come on, you can walk me to your door.” His hand grabbed hers and she followed much more obediently than she did coming
up
the stairs.

Not a word was spoken as he descended the staircase, or even when he turned to her at the front door. He just gathered her body to his, enveloping her in warmth; rubbing his hands up and down her back. A small groan of frustration rumbled in his throat as he held her. “Last chance to change your mind,” he stated softly before straightening to look at her.

“About what?”

“Coming with me,” he answered with the most sincere expression.

“You know? I honestly think you’re being serious…”

“I am. I’m going to…” he stopped himself before he said ‘
miss you’
- too sappy for someone like Anne. Instead, his eyes fixed on hers in a more intense fashion. “Answer your phone, and when I text you, try your best to respond, eh?” he commanded in a forceful tone.

“Yes sir,” she responded lightly as she reached around him and opened the front door.

“I looove it when you say that,” he stated before walking to the threshold. He grabbed her to him, fixing his lips to hers, opening her mouth and kissing her with all the passion he felt before letting her go quickly. If he kissed her any longer, he would be cancelling yet another flight and rebooking. It just wasn’t possible, unfortunately.

“All right, Annie. I’ll just…”

“No. No ‘Annie’, no nicknames,” she admonished with a scowl on her face.

“You can call me Mac,” he answered back nonchalantly.

“Like the first time I met you?” she gave his chest a little push to ease him through the door.

“What? Some people actually
do
call me Mac. Besides, what’s wrong with Annie? I like it…”
It makes you more…mine
.

“It conjures up visions of some little girl with a red ‘fro and some creepy old guy…no thanks,” she stated in obvious amusement as she gave him one more little push, causing him to clear the door.

“Little Orphan Annie,” he stated absently with a crooked smile.

He watched the look of amusement drain from her face replaced by something far more serious, almost haunted.

He opened his mouth to say something but her words and the tone of her voice stopped him.

“Goodbye, Ian,” she stated almost woodenly as the door closed with a distinct click in front of him. He studied the wood grain on the door in front of his face for a few moments, debating on whether or not to knock.

That was strange.

She went from teasing to aloof in the space of three words. Unfortunately, he had a plane to catch. He took a step back, still watching the door as if it would suddenly open and she would explain herself.

Who was he kidding?

*****

Did he know?

She rested her stricken body against the hard door, hoping he didn’t knock. Her hand reached next to her, turning the lock with shaking fingers as heat seemed to rise from her neck to her head.

It could have been an innocent comment. It
seemed
like it. Besides, if he
did
know, he certainly wouldn’t come anywhere near her…

*****

The car wasn’t there yet, he noticed as he jogged up the drive, minutes later. Or at least, the black town car he ordered wasn’t. A small, easily recognizable compact took up residence near the front of the house, though. His frown of confusion turned up into a smile as he ran the rest of the way up the stairs and through the front door.

*****

“You scared the daylights out of me!” Irene stated almost dropping the phone from her hand.

“Do you always play on your phone while you’re supposed to be cleaning my house?” he answered in mock reprimand, leaning his body against the entry way to his study.

It was then that he noticed the sheen of moisture in her eyes. His smile turned down as concern set in. He pushed from the door immediately and walked across the wide expanse of the room toward her.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked as he neared her. If this was any normal woman, he might have pulled her into a hug. Irene?
Not a hugger
…he placed his hands on his hips instead.

“This,” she stated after blowing out a lengthy breath and holding her phone up.

“What?” he asked as his eyes fixed on the object in her hand.

“Another text. That’s it. No phone calls, just her shitty texts. She thinks I’m going to yell at her,” she stated as she looked at the black screen. “Years ago? Yes. Now? I just want to talk to her,” she stated forlornly before wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

Dawning set in. She was speaking of her daughter, Kelly, he realized. He grabbed one of Irene’s hands and tugged her toward the couch, ignoring the horn that just sounded outside.

“She’ll be back. It’s not like she hasn’t done this before,” he added casually as they sat.

“Not
this
long. She knows she screwed up. I bet she’s using again. I bet that’s why she doesn’t want to speak to me. She knows I’ll know,” Irene said before stuffing the phone in her pocket. “Enough about that. She just pisses me off. Let’s talk about why you’re here,
again
,” she sniffed before swiping the tears from both eyes.

“Work, of course,” he answered. That wasn’t the only reason, but he wouldn’t divulge that to Irene. “Why are you cleaning my house on a Saturday?” he asked, changing the subject.

“I’m booked up all week, now. Economy’s good, everyone has money…besides, Caleb decided he wants to go to college and there isn’t much of George’s money left, so I’m working extra to help him out. I don’t have anything else going on…” she trailed off in a sarcastic tone as the horn sounded again. “What is that?” she asked as her head turned toward the source of the sound.

“My car. I’m flying back today,” he answered, making no attempt to stand up.

“When are you coming back?” she asked.

“No idea,” he answered truthfully. A sense of sadness pricked him thinking of Anne. He would miss her
terribly
.

“You look sad. Are you all right?” Irene asked, shaking him from his thoughts.

“I’m fine. I’d better get going,” he breathed out as he squeezed the small, weathered hand he still held in his.

“Good. It’s much quicker cleaning this house when no one is actually
living
in it,” she squeezed back giving him a slight smile. “Now, if we could just get rid of your tenant down the hill…” she stated, causing his eyes to snap to hers.

“Anne? What do you have against…Ms. Bennett?” he changed to a more appropriate name.

“Nothing, other than her mouth. She talks back to me. I don’t like it,” she grumbled.

“That’s because you’re not used to it. You two are very much alike, you know?”

“Pffft,” she snorted.

“She talks back to me, too,” he confided as the horn sounded again.

“So I heard. Well, at least I only have two more months of her…”

“Ms. Bennett can stay as long as she wants,” he stated absently as his eyes lifted toward the front window. He could see the driver walking around the back side of the car, heading toward the front door.

“Wonderful,” he heard her sarcastic reply before he looked down.

“Gotta go, love. You hang in there, all right? I’ll keep in touch, eh?” He planted a kiss on top of her gray head before straightening once again.

The door bell sounded and he walked unwillingly toward the front hallway.

Never, in all the time he had ever been in America, was he so reluctant to leave.

It had
everything
to do with Ms. Anne Bennett.

*****

“You are so miserably late, ya bawbag,” Lena stated when he appeared in her kitchen hours later. “Oh! And dressed so nicely, too!” She gave him what she hoped was a withering look. He was dressed in faded jeans and a t-shirt. A ball cap was situated on his head.

“I came straight from the airport,” he stated before wandering over and planting a quick kiss to the top of her head. “The place looks great, good turnout. I think every person in this town is here.”

“Aye, well I already have two weddings to book and the Provost has asked if he can hold his council meetings here once a month, what do you think of that?” she asked with pride evident in her tone.

He swept his eyes over the expanse of the remodeled kitchen, approving of everything he saw before his gaze settled on a tray of extremely small, extremely burnt looking puffs of…something sitting on top of the stove.

“What the hell, Lena? This must have been you,” he quipped as he walked over and attempted to pull one off the pan. It was stuck firm.

“Well, I bought them, I wanted to use them. Imagine my surprise when a catering company just up and shows at my door this morning. Complete with a full bar. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?” She placed her hands on her stylishly clad hips and tilted her head.

“You are the worst cook in history, love. I thought I’d help you out. Mrs.Craigh says this caterer is the best. The object is to drum up business, not scare people away, right?” He gave up trying to pull the small object from the pan. “Ya can’t serve ‘em briquettes.”

“Right, but I owe you so much already. This had to cost a fortune…”

“Pish. You owe me nothing.” He answered quickly.

“Wrong. I intend to pay you back, Ian.”

“I won’t take it. It’s my money to give. I don’t want it back. I’m not an investor, Lena. Case closed. No more discussion.” The look he gave her would shut anyone else up. Well, anyone that worked for him, maybe.

“But…”

“No more. I’ve just flown for eight hours, I got absolutely no sleep last night and I don’t feel like arguing with yer stubborn arse right now.”

She opened her mouth, thought better of it from the look on his face and clamped it shut.

They stared at each other for a few moments before she finally huffed out a frustrated breath.

“Fine. So why are you so late? I thought your flight was early?”

“I got a bit…detained,” he answered as his mind wandered to the reason for his tardiness.

He schooled his features into a bland look.

“Detained? That doesn’t sound like you. And what is the reason?” she asked, shooting a pointed look his way.

“Just…never you mind. Why don’t you go check on your guests? I need to use your loo. I’ll shower and change into something more appropriate, eh?”

“Does this have anything to do with your American Girl?” she asked slyly.

“First off, she not a ‘girl’. Second, it’s none of yer concern.”

“Oooo. Well then, that told
me
. Did you see her?” she prodded.

“Of course I saw her. She works for me. How could I not see her? Geez, Lena,” he stated before he blew out a breath. “I don’t ask you about your…whatever.”

“My ‘whatever’ is non-existent. It would be a verra short conversation,” she stated in an amused tone.

“Lena?”

A distinguished looking older gentlemen stood at the entryway to the kitchen causing both sets of eyes to snap to him.