Returning to Oliver’s, I closed my suitcase—didn’t even have to pack it—cleaned the cabana, then went into the house. I was pretty sure he had a cleaning service and that they had been there in one of the days while I was at work, but that was the only way I could think of to pay for my stay.
It was a goddamn big house. No wonder my mother’s back, and joints, and even veins were ruined from years of cleaning all those big houses.
I started at the ground floor. The whole place was pretty clean as it was, and I wanted to delay going into the bedrooms above. His bedroom, especially, which had seemed void of dust and disorder, as if time and gravity didn’t apply there.
After the kitchen, I mopped the large living hall. It was easier cleaning this pristine house than it had been cleaning my little apartment that was full of teenage boys’ clutter and mess. I finished with the living room where we’d had chamomile tea just ten days ago by wiping the dust off a large bookcase, reading the titles of the few fiction books’ spines.
“What are you doing?”
I jolted back then banged my elbow on a shelf as I swirled toward the voice. I breathed out, “Oh my God! You scared the living shit out of me!” I held my hand over my chest, as if I were trying to catch my heart before it dropped to my knees.
“Hi. I’m sorry.” He reached toward me, as if to stabilize me, but I wasn’t faltering.
I leaned my back against the bookcase. “Hi. I didn’t know when you were supposed to arrive.” I hoped my tone hid the surprising resentment I felt for Oliver appearing all of a sudden; not so much for startling me, but for being here and looking the way he did in his dark pants and light gray, buttoned-down shirt. I, on the other hand, looked like someone who cleaned a house. My hair was a mess, I was sweaty, and streaks of dust adorned the front of my faded tee.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you cleaning?”
“I … arrived a few days ago and I’m moving out tomorrow, to my sister’s. Thought I’d clean before you came back, whenever that was.”
“The cleaning service was here a few days ago.”
“Oh.” I then added, “Anyway, I pretty much finished this floor.”
“Why?” he insisted on his original question.
“I wanted to pay for the hospitality.”
“I’m glad you moved in. I didn’t want you to pay or clean.”
“Iwanted to,” I said.
“Why aren’t you doing as you’re told?” His face broke into a little smile that soon disappeared. It was like watching the sky brightening one moment then clouding again the next. “Two questions. Which room did you take and why are you moving out?”
“The pool house, and because I can stay with my sister now.”
“Why haven’t you before?”
I bit my upper lip. “Well …”
Oliver pierced me with his green gaze and took a step forward. “Because she has no room for you and because she’s doing you a favor, and you’ll find yourself looking for another place soon. Stay here. There’s room. More room than I need. You will never be asked to leave. You can leave or stay at your own will. And if it helps, I’m away a lot.”
You’d expect that such a speech would be delivered tenderly.Wrong. Oliver’s tone was rigid, dry, and commanding.
I returned his penetrating gaze. “You’re not someone who’s used to living with people, Oliver, am I right?”
“You’re not wrong.”
I could tell. He hadn’t revealed much in our previous conversation, and although it had been years, this man, this beautiful, strong man, was the same in some ways as the beautiful, lonely boy he had once been. Which was why I could see beyond the severe façade.
“Just stay.” Oliver turned and went toward the stairs, where I now noticed he had left a carry-on bag. He picked it up and swerved toward me again. “And stop cleaning.” Then, with a tinge of softness in his voice and on his face, he added, “Please.” With that, Oliver held my gaze for a moment, then made his way up the steps and disappeared from view.
In the not-too-deep part of my brain, I could hear his commands from years ago. “Untie your hair. Take my shirt off.” I almost had to cross my legs to stop the fluttering between them.
Great, January. Just what you need.
Just what I feared.
Torn. Here I had a place I wasinvitedto stay in. Indefinitely. But this man had just wreaked havoc in my panties. And Iknewhe could do the same to my heart, the heart that had accumulated cobwebs and hid under layers of dust for years. Going to my sister’s was the rational thing to do, but it was temporary. Oliver’s was, too, but this house had room for me, and somehow, even with his sternness, he made me feel more welcome and wanted than June had.
