Pieces of Rhys Page 11

  Good grief. I must be soaked.

  "You know you're not a doctor," I said as he started down the porch steps.

  He turned around and grinned at me. "No, but it's a game I like to play."

  I watched with an open mouth as he walked away.

  Ignacio was the first person my dad hired to help me get my property in order. He was the son of a family friend, eight years my senior, and a million degrees hotter than any other male within a thousand mile radius. When I first saw him, I fell off the back porch. What a first impression.

  "You know you can't walk on air, right?" He had said before pulling me to my feet.

  Well. No one could challenge Rhys's hold on my heart, but as far as eye candy went, Ignacio was going to do just fine.

  That was early January and we were now rolling into June. My mini farm was looking good, thanks to the back breaking work of me and my handful of workers. It wasn't easy at first, a lot did not go right. Ignacio kept saying to be patient, but I was finding it difficult to be patient.

  "I dropped everything to move here and do this," I whined after another minor failure. "Maybe I made a mistake."

  "Your only mistake is that you're not being patient," he had said. "These things happen. If in two years everything is horrible, then you can give it up. It's too soon to give up now, so get back to work."

  "I thought I was the boss."

  "Get back to work, boss," he laughed and walked away.

  So, I learned patience, and it paid off. The little store was already open, selling the few things I was already able to harvest, and other items like milk, eggs, bread, other produce I got from a supplier, small snacks and baked goods my mom and grandma made. There were also some plants and flowers for sale in the little green house. It wasn't a huge operation, but I was proud of all we had accomplished in so little time.

  And the important thing is that I began to heal from the inside out.

  Rhys was still very much in my daily thoughts, and my heart still ached whenever anyone back on the east coast spoke about him. The last time I saw him was the day before I moved in mid December.

  "I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," he had said softly.

  We were standing in the middle of my empty living room. Professional movers had packed most of my belongings and were already on a trek across the country.

  I had not talked to Rhys since my first day in Cali. When I returned, he was conveniently working in another office for a couple of weeks. I didn't announce my departure for about a week, and by the time it got to him, I was almost ready to go. I preferred it that way. Less distractions.

  "Phil told me he's buying the house," he said when I didn't have anything to say to his goodbye comment.

  "Yeah," I nodded and smiled fondly. "I guess knocking up your girlfriend makes a guy domesticated."

  Rhys smiled, and it made me sad, because it was still so perfect.

  "Muriel's been in love with him since she was like seven. I can't believe it took him so long to figure it out."

  "I'm happy for them. I'm glad they're moving in here," I sighed and looked around the empty space with both bitterness and fondness. The bad memories mingled with the pleasant ones.

  "Why are you leaving?" Rhys asked.

  I looked at his face. Like mine, he had wounded eyes. Even though the work in my parents back yard brought me back to life, I wasn't really living. My appetite had not returned and I was losing sleep to nights of tears and self pity. My clothes didn't hug my curves (and fat) like they used to. My eyes were dull, as if all of the life had been sucked out of them. I looked as broken as I felt.

  I gained no satisfaction to see Rhys look broken, too. There was a time when I thought such a thing could not happen. Not the bright, carefree, the glass is half full Rhys.

  "There's nothing left here for me," I answered softly.

  "Is that a jab at me?" He gave a sad smile.

  "Of course not. Not really," I sighed. "There's no husband, no boyfriend, and no children or family to speak of."

  "Friends?"

  "I love my friends, but that's not enough."

  He looked like he was thinking carefully before speaking again.

  "Would you still be leaving if we were together?"

  I looked at the floor. "Probably not. You were enough..."

  He sighed heavily. When I sensed him moving towards me, my head snapped up and I moved away.

  "Please don't," I said, holding up my hands.

  "Lindsey, I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again," he said.

  "Rhys, it will only hurt me more," I said shaking my head. "It's just going to make it harder to forget."

  He considered my words, but I could tell he had a difference of opinion about it.

  "Please," I begged quietly.

  Reluctantly, he took a few steps away from me.

  "I'm sorry," he said. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

  "I forgave you immediately."

  He stood up a little straighter. Something a little like hope sparked in his eyes, but I didn't understand why. This was clearly over, done with, kaput.

  "Take care of yourself out there," he said with an encouraging smile. "I hope everything works out for you. I hope you find some happiness."

  I managed a small smile and nodded. "Take care of Fat Joe, okay?"

  He smiled, shook his head and then left me standing there alone.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  It was dusk by the time Ignacio finished working. Rita, the woman who took care of the store, had just left for the day. It was just me and the sexy Italian.

  "I made you dinner," I said when he walked into the kitchen.

  "Did you do that sitting down?" He smirked.

  I looked over at him, ready to argue my position, and froze. Ignacio had taken his shirt off. He was dirty and sweaty, but it was so freaking hot. I stared at his body as if I had not just seen the same sight the day before.

  "I'm sorry," he said, smiling a little. "I should have a shirt on in your kitchen. My mother would kick my ass if she saw me being so disrespectful."

  "Umm...no, it's okay," I pulled my eyes away from his body and went back to slicing cucumbers for a salad. "I don't mind it at all."

  "You should stop making me dinner," Nacio said. He came over next to where I was standing to use the sink to wash his hands. "You're my boss."

  "Yes, you keep reminding me," I said dryly. "Do you not like my cooking?"

  "I love your cooking." He looked down at me. His face was fine, very fine, but his eyes were crazy. Even though they were blue, they reflected heat.

  The sexual tension between us was almost suffocating. It had been building from that very first day when I fell off of the porch. I didn't want his heart, I just wanted him to fuck the living daylights out of me.

  "How's your ankle?" Nacio asked, his voice low and husky.

  "Hardly hurts at all," I answered, just above a whisper.

  "Sit down so I can have a look at it."

  Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! He was going to touch me again!

  I immediately complied, abandoning the salad at the counter, and sat down at the kitchen table. Nacio kneeled before me and gently lifted my foot. His fingers began to caress my ankle.

  "Any pain?" He asked, looking up at me.

  I shook my head.

  His finger grazed the top of my foot, down to my toes.

  "Any pain?"

  Again I shook my head.

  He kneeded the instep of my foot, and I almost combusted. It seemed to have a direct line to my vagina.

  I squirmed in my seat and let out a small gasp. Ignacio smiled an evil, sexy smile and slowly began to stroke his hands up my calf. When his hands began to go under the hem of the little sundress I was wearing, he paused and looked at me questiongly. When I didn't object, his hands slipped under my dress, and within seconds, he was rubbing me through my panties.

  I gasped and nearly fell out of the chair. He pulled his hand a
way and put two fingers to my lips.

  "Suck," he gently commanded.

  I took his fingers into my mouth and began to suck. He watched with fascination as his fingers slipped in and out of my mouth. When he pulled them out, they were wet with my own saliva.

  "Open." He tapped my knee.

  I opened my legs wide. He pushed my underwear aside and slid in the two fingers I just had in my mouth.

  I groaned and held onto the bottom of the seat to keep from falling. I closed my eyes and grinded my hips against his hand. I was so close to an orgasm, but then he stopped.

  My eyes flew open just as he put three fingers to my lips, including the two that were just inside of me. I opened my mouth and accepted, tasting myself on his fingers.

  "You really are a dirty girl," he whispered.

  He pulled his fingers out and thrust all three inside of me.

  "Come on my hand, sweetie," he demanded as his fingers slammed into me repeatedly.

  I was almost at the top of Mt. Orgasmo. I was just about there, my scream building in my throat, and then my phone rang.

  Phones ring during sex. No big deal. Most of the time the call is ignored and orgasms commence, but it was the song that played that sent me tumbling off the mountain.

  The song blasting from my phone was 1 Thing by Amerie. I had not heard the tune since Rhys called me at my parent's back in November.

  I picked it up without thinking. And without pushing Ignacio away. Stupid.

  "Hello?" I was breathless from my near orgasm.

  "Lindsey?" Rhys's voice hit me harder than I could ever have expected. Just saying my name nearly brought me to tears.

  Seeing the change in me, Ignacio immediately withdrew. I all but forgot about him and my orgasm as I listened intently.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Rhys is coming. Rhys is coming. Oh my goodness, Rhys is coming.

  I paced the length of my porch two days after the phone call and my failed orgasm. If you have not guessed it, Rhys was coming. And I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up.

  He had some vacation time saved up. After he smoothly deduced that I was single, he suggested a visit.

  "I hear you're doing really well," he said in his sexy voice. "I would like to see what everyone is raving about."

  I giggled nervously. "It's really not a huge operation. Kit makes it seem like I'm running some big farm."

  "Phil and Muriel were equally impressed. So what do you think? I should come see for myself."

  "Yeah," I said, breathless. "Definitely. Whenever you want."

  "Good. While I have you on the phone, I'll book a flight."

  That was only two days ago, and now I was pacing the porch like a mad woman, trying to keep the vomit down.

  "If you fall off of the porch again, this time I'm leaving you there," Ignacio said as he walked by.

  I apologized profusely to him the night of the failed orgasm.By the time I hung up with Rhys, I still wanted an orgasm, but not from Ignacio. He was extremely good about it.

  "Don't worry about it," he smiled. "It just wasn't meant to be, I guess."

  It probably wasn't a good idea for me to sleep with the help anyway.

  I had dressed carefully for Rhys's arrival. I put on that very same polka dot dress that I wore the night of my party. I was barefoot though. I couldn't find the shoes. My hair was down and I didn't put on any makeup.

  I started thinking maybe I should put on some shoes. Maybe I should do something with my hair and put on some lipstick. I probably looked too country. What would he think of me? All I needed was a toilet sitting in the grass and a pet possum.

  I turned to go inside when a car pulled into the back yard. It was Rhys. The engine had not even died down and he was already out of the car and strolling towards the porch.

  He was sexier than I remembered. He bought another grey Aeropostale tee and it fit him better than the last one. He had on sunglasses, but he took them off to inspect me better.

  "Hi," I smiled down at him.

  "Hi." He walked up the porch steps and without any hesitation embraced me. I held onto him and shrieked as he lifted me off of my feet and spun me around.

  "Damn you look great," he said after putting me down. He still held me close, one hand on the small of my back and the other on my hip. "The last time I saw this dress it was on your bedroom floor."

  My face turned bright red and I had to look away from his mischievous smile and burning eyes.

  He pulled me closer and whispered in my ear. "I just made you pee yourself a little, didn't I?"

  I smiled, embarrassed. "Maybe a little."

  He tucked my hair behind my ear, gave me a lingering kiss on my forehead and released me.

  Damn. I needed a panty change.

  "I brought someone with me," Rhys said with a sly smile before descending the steps.

  "Where are they? In your trunk?" I asked, confused. I didn't see anyone else in the car.

  He opened the back door and an angry fat, furry, gray cat bounded from the car.

  "Fat Joe!" I cried and hurried down the steps.

  Rhys picked the fatty up and put him in my arms.

  "Oh, you fat ass furball!" I hugged him tight and left kisses all over his face.

  He meowed in protest, but didn't try to leap away.

  To my surprise, I found myself blinking back tears. What the hell?

  "I'm so glad you brought him," I said, seriously trying not to cry.

  "The cat got a better welcome than I did," Rhys said, clearly offended.

  Ignoring him, I carried the fat boy up the steps. "You probably had a horrible trip, Fatty. You smell a little funky. I'll give you a good wipe down. How's that sound, Fatty?"

  "And stop calling my cat fat!"

  "You did this on purpose," I accused Rhys late that night.

  "I swear I didn't!" He said, hands up defensively, but he couldn't help laughing.

  "You purposely didn't pack a toothbrush or pick one up at the store!"

  "Lindsey, I promise you, it was a complete oversight."

  I gave him the "You've got to be fucking kidding me" stare.

  "Listen, your mouth was the last one I kissed," he said. "So, this won't be any different from before."

  I tried not to react to what he said, but there must have made some minor change to my face, because he caught it. Rhys's face grew serious.

  "But my mouth wasn't the last you've kissed," he said with realization. "Oh."

  Okay. So. Maybe I decieved you some. Maybe you were under the impression that the other night with Ignacio was my first time being touched by anyone since Rhys, or even my first time with Nacio. If that's what you thought, boy did I fool you.

  The first time I slept with Ignacio was about a month and a half after he started working for me. It wasn't lust or love, it was comfort. I was lonely, depressed, scared, heart broken, homesick, and I felt like I had made a mistake moving to California. I only wanted to feel better, and afterward I did.

  It happened a few more times, but I had to put the kabash on it, feeling like it was interfering with our work, and it just didn't feel right to sleep with someone that worked for me.

  What almost happened the night Rhys called was just a random thing, and the first time in a couple of months. I didn't even think I'd ever see Rhys again, or at least I never thought I'd find myself standing in my bathroom arguing over his usage of my toothbrush.

  "It's that Ignacio guy, isn't it?" Rhys asked.

  I lowered my eyes.

  "I knew it, by the way he looked at you."

  "It wasn't serious," I said.

  "It was for him."

  I looked up at him. "No, he was just being...helpful...I was broken...he was just...I mean he got something out of it, too, but...it was just physical."

  "Lindsey, Lindsey," he said, shaking his head and smiling a little. "You never give yourself enough credit. That guy loves you."

  "No," I adamantly shook my head.


  "Yes, baby, he does," Rhys said, and it sounded sympathetic.

  I looked at him with heavy doubt, before opening a drawer and thrusting a new toothbrush at him.

  "Do you love him?" Rhys asked a few minutes later after brushing his teeth.

  "I can't believe we're having this conversation," I sighed, exasperated, and walked out of the bathroom. I started to go into my room, but turned around suddenly and ran right into Rhys. "You just got here a few hours ago!"

  "Okay, calm your ass down," he said with his easy, sexy smile. "It was just a question."

  I sighed, trying to look angry, but as my eyes raked over his bare chest and arms, my anger was disipating.

  "I'm going to bed," I whispered, still staring at his chest. He had a tattoo there that he had not had when I last saw him.

  Without being fully aware of what I was doing, I reached out and touched the tattoo. It was a heart, wrapped in a heavy chain. The links in the chain were frayed, broken, and bloodied in some places where the heart seemed to be bursting free of it's bonds.

  The heart itself was bleeding, cracked in some areas, pieces missing in others, but despite it's flaws, it appeared strong and desperate to be released from the chains that threatened to suffocate it.

  The sight of it made me want to cry, not the whimpy tears like when I saw Fat Joe again, but real, sobbing, explosive crying.

  Rhys's eyes were on my own newly aquired chestular ink. In a big way, it was similar to his.

  My tattoo was also of a heart, bleeding, broken, bloodied and chained, but there was a gaping, ragged hole in the heart and the links broken where a slightly mangled, bruised, and injured butterfly had burst through and taken flight. However, the poor thing was still attached to the broken heart by one small chain, weighing the butterfly down, not allowing for it's complete escape from it's source of pain.

  Deep.

  Even deeper was the similarities in our tattoos, and the fact that we got them done around the same time.

  "Come on, I'll sit with you until you fall asleep," Rhys said after a minute or so and I allowed him to lead me into my bedroom.

  Fat Joe was already on my bed, which brought a smile to my face. I never cared for cats before him, but for some reason I loved him. Maybe it was because he was Rhys's cat. Maybe it was because he was fat. Maybe it was because he had an awesome personality.