Reckless Promise

Tara

Kellen knocks on my door as the sun turns the sky pink and red and I’m thinking about cooking dinner. My TV’s on mute and I’m sitting on my easy chair reading a paperback book, some random romance novel with more steam than plot, which is how I like them. I frown at the door and squint at it like I might make Kellen disappear with my mind.

I know it’s him out there. I mean, I don’t have proof—but nobody else comes to my cottage after hours. Only Kellen would bother, and I can’t help but reflect on how much worse my life’s going to be with him around.

Somehow worse than it was when his father was alive.

But he doesn’t go away and eventually I pull it open. “What do you want?”

He holds up a bottle of wine. “Truce.”

“I’m not interested.” I go to close the door, but he doesn’t let me.

“That wasn’t a request.” He barges into my cottage, pushing past me and into the little living room.

“What the hell is your problem?”

But he laughs as he looks around. “Holy shit, Tara. This place is a wreck.”

My cheeks turn red with anger and embarrassment. “It’s just cluttered.” I glance at the clothes and shoes piled in a corner, at the dishes in the sink, at the crafting junk I have scattered on the couches from when I got really into crocheting. I could probably put it all away, but why bother? It’s my mess and nobody else ever comes in here. Until now.

“Cluttered? This is full-on hoarder territory.”

“No, it’s not, asshole.”

“Seriously, I knew you were a little messy, but this?”

“Get out.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll stop.” He’s giving me that infuriating grin as he walks into my kitchen and starts rifling through the drawers. “What do you do with yourself in this place anyway? You don’t have a car that I know about and the city is about a half-hour away. You’re sort of stuck in this little house all the time.”

I clench my jaw. “Thank you for reminding me.”

“Aren’t you bored?”

“I like my job.”

“You like cutting my dad’s grass?”

“Your dad’s dead and I don’t mow the lawn. I’m the gardener.” I hesitate and cross my arms. “Okay, mowing and watering the grass is one part of my job, but there’s more to it than that.”

“Right.” He pulls a wine opener from a drawer with a triumphant smile, opens the bottle, and pours two glasses. “Come on, have a drink. You need to loosen up.”

“If you go away, I’ll happily unwind. I’m not drinking with you.”

“What else were you doing? Sitting around contemplating your spinsterhood?” He holds the glasses up, grinning. “Come on, Tara. Drink with me.”

“Kellen.”

“Right, sorry, you plan on masturbating to extremely kinky online porn and can’t wait to rush me out.”

“Kellen!”

“I’ll gladly stay and watch if that’s what you’re into. As much as I hate you, time has been very kind.” His eyebrows raise and I’m distantly aware of my very short shorts and tight tank top. I cross my arms over my chest to cover my breasts.

I turn pink again and want to kick him square in the testicles a few times. Maybe he’ll even let me if I say that’s my kink.

“I was reading, okay? And I plan on going back to reading when you’re gone. Then I was going to cook dinner and go to bed early so I can get up when it’s still a reasonable temperature outside and get some work done.”