“Though that man made the best french toast. Oh my—mm! So good.”
“Then maybe I’ll make it for you tomor
row morning and we can see how mine measures up,” I said.
“I loved Anton’s cooking,” she said. “And his mannerisms. He was always so kind and considerate.”
Leaning back, I sipped on my coffee as I watched this strange and beautiful woman begin to open up. Suddenly, she was talking. Pouring out a life story I couldn’t pull from her last night no matter how hard I tried.
And her voice. The way it lilted. It was soothing to my ears.
I liked listening to it.
“I never knew my father,” Michelle said. “But by the way my mother talked about him, he wasn’t any good. And my grandfather? He was a mean old son of a bitch. Barely talked to anyone, but had no issues raising his voice. Anton was the first gentleman I’d ever met. The first man who talked to me without yelling and treated me like his equal instead of, I don’t know. Doing anything else.”
I watched tears well in her eyes again.
“Now, there’s that hole. And I don’t know what to do with it. I only knew Anton for a couple of months. Maybe three. He was the first real friend outside of my prior neighbor that I’d ever met. But he made a huge impact on my life. I owe him so much.”
Prior neighbor.
So, she was homeless. At least, that was how it sounded.
“Anton helped me, too. I guess it was in his nature. He was there during a time in my life when I didn’t feel like I had anyone else, and he took me in. I was angry, and he helped me to toss that anger into more productive things.”
I wasn’t about to go into specifics with this woman. I mean, it was nice, her opening up to me about my godfather. But I didn’t make it a habit of opening up to strangers, and I wasn’t going to start with her. No matter how cute and open this stranger was. She didn’t need to hear about how I got mixed up in high school. About how my father was a treacherous son of a bitch who thought beating up on his son could change anything. She didn’t need to know about a mother who was never there for me and essentially left me to defend myself against my own fucking flesh and blood.
Anton knew.
But Michelle didn’t need to.
I was only going to be here for a week, at the most. No time to worry with making new friends. I’d settle Anton’s estate, divvy out his apparent wealth the way he wanted it to be divvied, then get the fuck back to Napa Valley. Back to my world. My comfort zone. Back to my wines and my grapes and my beautiful sunsets off the private balcony of my bedroom.
I didn’t need friends in a place I’d never return to.
“Here, let me get that. You cooked. I clean. It’s only fair.”
Before I could pick up my plate and take it to the sink, Michelle was out of her chair. She gathered everything off the table and took charge of the kitchen. She toppled everything into the sink before she came back for my coffee mug, and I finished the last of it off before I handed it to her. Our fingers brushed, her soft skin sliding against mine. My cock shot to full erection as a shockwave rushed through my system. My eyes watched her hips as she disappeared behind the kitchen island, the veins in my groin pulsing.
Shit.
She was going to think I was some sort of pervert.
I looked down in my lap and saw my fork sitting there. How the fuck did it end up in my lap. I got up from the chair and walked quickly around the kitchen island, trying to toss it over her shoulder. But before I could let it go, she turned around and took it from me.
As she turned, my cock grazed against her ass.
I fumbled backwards, trying to put as much space between us as I could. I dipped my hand into my pants and readjusted myself as she turned around. Her eyes connected with mine and I wanted to take her right then and there. Fist her beautiful hair, bend her over that fucking counter, and slide my rock hard cock right between her legs. Those legs she’d teased me with when she came into the room and stretched for me.
I needed to get out of there.
I needed to get away from her.
“I’ll be out by the morning,” Michelle said.
I furrowed my brow as I watched her eyes fall to her feet.
“What?” I asked.