Marguerite's voice lowered. "You know enough about my world, the one beyond Tea Leaves, to understand what he is, right? What Lyda is?"
Those blue eyes were measuring her response, trying to make sure she could handle whatever this was. Gen knew without asking she could withdraw her agreement, that Marguerite would handle things for her. She didn't like that idea, though. Not after she'd said she could handle it.
"Yes. I'm not sure. Does he need...anything different?"
"No." Marguerite's expression showed gentle amusement, but not in a way that made Gen feel foolish. "If you feel uncertain about anything, simply ask him. He will tell you the absolute truth. Otherwise, he's a houseguest helping you tile your floor and paint your walls. He's very much like Brendan in that way."
"Just don't get him wet, let bright light touch him, or give him food after midnight."
That bright interjection came from Chloe, of course. The other member of the Tea Leaves staff delivered the comment while hanging up her purse on the coat rack. Chloe was barely five feet tall, with sharp blue eyes and a lovely cap of brown hair currently dyed with a blue streak. She also had a figure like a pocket Venus. She gave Gen her usual morning hug and Marguerite a smile that could compete with the sun. "Oh my God, Gen, you get Noah for a few days. I'm so jealous. I saw Lyda at the end of the street and she said she was loaning him to you."
Chloe turned her attention to the male in question. Bounding across the room, she plopped herself in his lap and hugged him. As he disappeared behind the clasp of her lush body, his arms circled her. Obviously, Noah knew Chloe well.
"Better?" Marguerite asked Gen.
Gen gave her a rueful look, but she couldn't help but smile. All the worries she could harbor about such an unexpected turn of events couldn't hold against Chloe's infusion of normalcy into a far-from-normal situation.
"Will Lyda be coming by to see him? Or coming to pick him up?" And why did the thought fluster her so?
Marguerite's attention sharpened on her. Her boss missed very little. "I expect she's already worked that out with Noah. He doesn't have a car, but he knows how to get where he needs to be. Disappointed?"
"No." Yes. "I mean, it doesn't matter. Whatever's easiest. I can drop him off at her place. Maybe get some plants for the yard."
Though Gen turned away as more customers arrived, she felt Marguerite's attention. She could handle that, at least better than the lingering feel of Lyda's hand on her scalp. As if that wasn't distracting enough, Lyda's lithe body, the way denim creased with the movement of her ass as she walked away, stayed with Gen throughout most of the day as well, mixing with the memory of Noah's eyes and lips, the touch of his hands. What had she gotten herself into?
*
As Marguerite had indicated, Noah returned at closing time. He came from his sailing class with damp hair and the smell of sea water. He'd also changed from his earlier clothes into a dark ribbed tank and worn blue jeans.
When he volunteered to do whatever they needed, closing became a half-the-time affair. Marguerite had shocked her by allowing Noah to do the hand washing of the cups, something she was so particular about that Gen and Chloe considered it a sacred act.
While cleaning the brewing equipment, Gen was dangerously entranced, watching his long fingers swish the disposable cloth into each cup, the way he placed the delicate porcelain in the dish drainer, his attention never leaving his task. Except once.
He stopped, his fingers tented on a cup, eyes swiveling back to meet hers. He held her gaze, acknowledging he knew she was watching him, then he returned to the task, not another word spoken. A tremor went through her fingers.
The closer they came to going home together, just the two of them, the more his slightest gesture sent sexual signals to her. That was wrong. He was Lyda's. But it was too late to back out. Or was she just unwilling to do so?
He offered to drive her car on the way home, giving her a break from Tampa traffic. She was agreeable to that. As they maneuvered out of the older downtown area of Tampa and headed for the suburbs, they morphed from a relaxed chat about their respective workdays into Gen looking for more information about him. Yes, she trusted Marguerite, but she took care of herself. She wanted some more info about the person who was going to be spending time in her home.
"So why don't you have a car?" she asked.
"I don't have a driver's license."
She blinked. "Guess I should have asked you that before you took the wheel. But you obviously know how to drive." He negotiated the Tampa rush-hour traffic far more capably than she ever had.
She found that wry curl of his lip very appealing. "Sorry. I should have qualified that. I've had one, you know, when I was first old enough to drive. Just haven't been back to renew it. I don't do a lot of paperwork stuff."
"Okay."
She didn't press on that one, but it made her think of Chloe's cryptic comment when the two of them had taken some supplies back to the storeroom.
"Did Marguerite tell you much about how Noah is?" The girl rolled her eyes, answering her own question before Gen could. "Of course not. She'd consider basic information being overly chatty."
"I know he's a...submissive. Like Brendan?"
"Like Brendan, but not. They're all so different." Chloe considered. "It probably doesn't matter. You're not going to be relating to him that way anyway."
"He's helping me with my kitchen. I don't need to know private things about him, Chloe." But she mental