Bookish (8 page)

We rushed to the kitchen and found her soaking wet with armloads of towels everywhere.

The kitchen sink was spraying water out of the broken faucet, hitting the ceiling and cascading down like a park fountain.

“Help me,” she yelled, “grab a towel and try to stay on top of it.”

“I don’t think that’s going to help,” I said, “there’s too much water!”

I was already soaked, so was Isaac. He stripped his suit jacket off and his white shirt clung to his body, showing me a good view of his bulging muscles and beautiful tattoos.

“Well stop gawking at your boyfriend and do something!” she yelled again.

“Do you have a wrench?” Isaac asked.

“A what? I don’t know!” she yelled.

“Stop yelling,” I told her, “it isn’t helping anything.

“I have a toolbox in the basement, at the bottom of the stairs, to the right.”

Isaac was off like a shot, turned and asked me, “Where’s the basement, love?”

I pointed to the door and threw a couple towels under the table where water was pooling.

He was back in moments, ducked under the sink and started to work. I heard him grunt, admired his straining back muscled and long, thick legs, and the fact that he wasn’t afraid to dive in and help out in a crisis.

I looked over and caught Auntie Abby staring at me. She gave me an approving look and raised her eyebrows at me. It made me feel warm to know that she liked him.

The water stopped all at once and a very wet Isaac pulled himself from underneath.

“Well, that should do it for now,” he said and stood. He grabbed one last dry towel from me and mopped his face dry. “Do you have a good plumber?” he asked Auntie Abby.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have had this happen,” she said.

“Do you have good insurance?” he asked.

She shook her head, “They won’t cover this. The house is too old.”

“I’ve got a guy,” Isaac replied and turned to wink at me.

Great, he just moved into town and already had a guy. I’d been here for years and knew nothing about finding anybody reliable. Just last year we’d hired somebody to fix a leak on the roof, had paid him up front and never heard from him again. I’ll bet that idiot would have never ripped off a man like Isaac.

“That’s good news,” Auntie Abby replied and kept mopping up the water.

Isaac pulled out his phone, which thankfully survived his apparent soaking, and placed a call. When he was finished, he assured us, “He’ll be here in half an hour.”

We all set to mopping water, squeezing towels into the sink and repeating our motions. It was almost midnight by the time Isaac’s guy made it to the house. It was after one in the morning by the time it was all fixed and we had a brand new faucet.

Isaac waved Auntie Abby’s wallet away and told the guy to put it on his tab.

Serious heart breaking material, right there. I wondered if he had been like that with everyone he’d dated, then shoved the thought down before I allowed myself to think about the models and beautiful actresses he’d been with.

My flabby body, their razor sharp edges and perfect bodies. What was I thinking? I couldn’t let him see me naked!

“Are you okay?” he asked and rubbed my back.

“Yeah, just a little tired,” I replied. We were still mopping the kitchen, but it was about ninety nine percent done. My flare up of insecurity was threatening to kick my ass, I must have been more exhausted than I had considered.

“Me too,” he said and nuzzled the back of my neck with his perfect lips. His stubble grazed my sensitive skin and made me shiver. The hairs on my arms stood on end and I felt my nipples harden in response. “What do you say we go back to my place and get some…sleep?”

I turned in his arms and faced him. The insecurity was talking now and I would do anything it took to keep him from seeing my nude form at that moment. “I’m exhausted,” I said, and it was true but I’m sure a night of sensual sex would perk me up, but I wouldn’t let myself give in. “I don’t think it’s going to happen tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said and lifted his thumb to my cheek as if brushing away another eyelash, “I can wait to find out if my wish will come true…all of it.”

I blushed and didn’t have time to reply, he kissed me. Gently at first, then with more insistence, more need. I was completely lost in his kiss, the soft and firm feel of his lips, his hot tongue snaking around mine, the little growls of need he made against my mouth. I didn’t hear Auntie Abby come in until she cleared her throat.

“Ahem,” she said, “this isn’t a brothel I’ll have you know.”

He stepped back but held my hands. “I know,” he replied with a grin, “I’m quite aware of the respectable nature of your fine establishment. I was simply saying good bye.”

“Well you can do it on the front step, or in your car,” she grumbled, but I could see a small smile playing at the edges of her mouth, “you know, like normal folk.”

“Auntie,” I said, “isn’t it time for bed? I’ll finish up in here.” I was trying to give her the hairy eyeball, communicate to her to piss off and let us finish up our goodbyes, but she wasn’t having it.

“I won’t have you rutting on my kitchen table,” she said, “so I’ll stay put until he’s well and gone.”

I went hot and red again, she was so outrageous at times, even if it was meant as a joke.

“It’s okay, love,” Isaac told me and gave me a respectable kiss on the lips, “I don’t think the table could hold us anyways, we’ll need a sturdier surface for what I have in mind.”

He winked at Auntie Abby and grinned when she harrumphed. He really was good with her, and I could see how much she liked him.

“I’ll text you in the morning,” he said, kissed me again, and left.

I heard the front door close, and before going to make sure it was locked, I turned to my grumpy old aunt. She was sitting at the kitchen table surround by cats. She had a mischievous grin on her face and she said, “That’s it, I like him.”

“You wouldn’t know it by the way you talk to him,” I admonished her.

“That’s how I know I like him,” she said, “he gives it as good as he takes it. He’s a keeper.”

I sighed and walked out of the kitchen. “I know,” I said to myself more than anyone.

“It doesn’t hurt that he’s got such a fine, fine ass by the way,” she yelled after me and let out a cackle.

I had to smile as I slid the lock shut and set the alarm code. She was right, he did have a fine, fine ass.

Now if only mine would look half as good once we were naked together, I might have a chance with the hottest man in the world.

Chapter Twelve

“Who Is This Mystery Woman?” was the first thing I read in the morning. Chloe had texted me the link to an article on a well-known gossip site. This was getting bad, we were making our way out of the book world and onto the pages of the celebrity rags.

I hoped Isaac hadn’t seen it. I looked awful in the photograph. We had been caught leaving the restaurant, his hand casually slung across my shoulder and me clutching my handbag like a freaked out parrot. My father’s chin jutted out of my plain face and my hair looked limp and washed out.

At least the camera hadn’t added twenty pounds. Although my head was down and I had a horrid double chin.

I could have curled up in my bed and cried, but I had to get back downstairs and help Auntie Abby.

I splashed some water on my face, pulled on loose pants and a hoodie, and headed to survey the damage in the light of day.

I’d been lucky; she’d let me sleep until ten. Usually under such an extreme situation, she would have had me dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn.

“I made you tea,” she said as I flopped into a kitchen chair, “did visions of fine behinds dance in your head all night long?”

“Ha ha,” I said and reached for my hot drink. She was spot on though, I had dreamt of him and his fine ass…abs…pecs…the delicious V that thrust down into the front of his pants. God I wanted to follow that V, what the hell had I been thinking? I should be in his arms right now, waking up and sliding my body against his.

“You need to stop that,” Auntie Abby said. I looked up and she was staring at me with her scary penetrating gaze, like she could see into my soul.

“What?” I asked and sipped my tea.

“Underestimating your value,” she said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I see it in your eyes. I’m old, but not dead and I know damn well who Mr. Isaac James is. I know you think you’re not good enough. But you are, you’re more than good enough. I’ve seen his picture in a hundred commercials and magazine spreads, but I’ve never seen him look so good as last night.”

“Uh yeah, he was basically giving us a wet shirt show in the kitchen. It doesn’t get much hotter than that,” I laughed.

“Yes, that,” she said and smiled, “but mostly because he was joyous around you. He likes you, Aubrey, he likes you a lot. You’re a beautiful woman and you have to wake up at some point and see that about yourself. Just because your slutty friend does her best to push you into the background, you have to know that you don’t belong in the shadows. You are Isaac’s equal, and you are worthy of him…and any man you choose to grace with your love and attention. Don’t you forget it.”

I’d never really heard such high praise from my aunt. She tended to be more practical and would generally compliment me on my skills in the kitchen or my mean Scrabble abilities. To hear her call me beautiful made me blush a little, but also possibly almost believe it for the first time in my life.

My mother had been a beauty, why not me?

“Thank you,” I managed to say before tearing up. I sipped my tea and munched on the heavily buttered toast she set in front of me. Tea and toast, Auntie Abby’s favourite breakfast.

My phone buzzed and I almost broke a finger grabbing it from the table, I swear. I slid it open and mentally crossed my fingers, praying it was Isaac.

I guess I must have a direct line to God, because it was from Mr. James himself.

“Morning love, did your ark survive the night?”

“Is it him?” Auntie Abby asked me, “never mind, I can tell by your secretive little smile that it is. I will leave you to call him, or chat him, or sext him…whatever you kids are doing these days.”

“It’s just regular texting,” I said and felt a small thrill at the thought of dirty talking with Isaac James.

“Either way,” she said and stood, knocking a couple cats off her lap in the process, and continued, “I’ll leave you to it. I have a hot yoga class to attend in an hour. Not as hot as your boyfriend’s fine behind, but it will do.”

“Nice one,” I said and laughed. In spite of acting more like a grandmother, she was in such great shape for her age; I was convinced she’d live forever. She was probably teaching the class to a bunch of girls my age for all I knew.

“We made it,” I texted back.

“Did you miss me?”

“Of course.”

“I missed you. I wanted to wake with you in my arms.”

“Maybe tonight?” I backspaced, erased my bold suggestion, then typed it again and hit send before I could back out again. For a few long seconds I sat clutching the phone in my hand, staring at the screen, waiting for his response.

It felt like hours before he texted back, “Not tonight, love. I’m on the way to the airport, assignment in LA.”

My heart sunk. Had he been playing me all along? If he knew he was leaving town, why would he have invited me to spend the night? Had he been planning on forcing me to make the walk of shame this morning? That would have been far more humiliating than what the gossip pages were reporting already.

“It just came up,” another text came through. “I didn’t know about it until an hour ago.”

“How long will you be gone?” I texted back.

“Three days. Can I see you Friday? I’ll come from the airport to pick you up.”

“I guess. That might be nice.”

“I’ll bring you back something special.”

“Just bring yourself and I’ll be happy.”

“Take care, love. I’ll talk to you from L.A.”

I smiled and held the phone to my chest, let the weird, warm waves of happiness wash over me. This was so strange, this feeling of complete joy. I wasn’t necessarily an emo type, I’d never cut myself or had an eating disorder, none of the pathologically normal depressed teen things. But I’d always been a little morose. I can’t lie; I tended towards the sad side of things.

I used to say I wasn’t a cynic, I was a realist.

But cynicism has no place when falling in love, and realism doesn’t belong in a world where I want to curl up under my blankets and drift on fantasies of Isaac and I in the morning light.

Unfortunately my daydreams would have to wait; I had a kitchen to tidy up and a few errands to run before work that night. So it seemed being swept up in Isaac’s arms would have to wait.

***

Chloe perched on the tall stool behind the counter at the bookstore I managed. I know, bookstore, bet you saw that one coming.

It was a small, eclectic, ‘Ma and Pop’ place that sold used titles along with the new and had a small spot for open mic nights and the occasional author signing.

She watched me closely as I shuffled through the bargain table, finding the ones that had been there a while and needed further marking down. The orphans of the store, the ones nobody would adopt.

Inevitably I would feel sorry for the books, the authors who wrote them, and the characters trapped inside, being shuffled about without a place to call home. I always ended up taking them back to Auntie Abby’s place and finding somewhere in her overstuffed library for them to reside.

Yes, I also think of books as people. Another shocker, I’m sure.

“There’s something different about you,” Chloe finally stated. She had been studying me with those critical eyes of her and I had been bracing for it.

“I don’t think so,” I replied and shoved a dog-eared copy of The Notebook behind a sad looking early edition of Atlas Shrugged.

“You totally look different,” she said, slitting her eyes like one of those Siamese cats on Lady and the Tramp. I half expected her to break out in song.