It was early afternoon when we finally left the bedroom.
William dressed with an amused grin on his face. “I’m starving.” He laughed, as though he had made a joke.
I walked over, kissed his chest and rested my hands on his hips. “I’d offer to feed you, but I like you way too much to poison you with my cooking.”
He shrugged. “I’ll cook.”
Startled, I followed him into my kitchen and watched as he began to survey the contents of my refrigerator and pantry. “You cook?” I shook my head and giggled. “Of course you do.” I leaned against the counter and watched him pull things out of the fridge. “I can just see you as a little boy hanging out in the kitchen watching your mom bake cookies.”
He looked up at me with a mysterious little smile. “My mother doesn’t bake.” He placed a carton of eggs on the counter. “I have some cheese and a green pepper. How do you feel about omelets?”
“Yummy.”
“Brilliant. I’ll just go…”
“How about you get started and I’ll go grab the cheese and pepper?”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nope.” I grinned. “I can totally handle retrieval. Where are your keys?”
“The door is unlocked.” I must have looked surprised, because he gave me a sheepish grin and continued. “I certainly didn’t expect to be spending the night here.”
I rolled my eyes and slid on the flip-flops I’d left near my front door. The rain had stopped, but it was still gloomy outside. I heard waves crashing and looked down to see a startlingly tumultuous ocean. I stepped tentatively around puddles and the occasional fallen branch, reminders of last night’s main event. I tried to shake the unease that always remained in the air after a truly big storm. My stomach growled; I hurried up William’s steps and into his kitchen.
I opened his refrigerator and laughed out loud. He might as well have labeled the shelves. Every item was carefully wrapped and placed in its proper location. It made me wonder if he thought my fridge was a mess, with my meager supply of groceries shoved carelessly on a single shelf. It also made me curious about the rest of his space. I scanned the kitchen and found it spotless. The man didn’t have a single cup in the sink. He’d been drunk when he’d shown up at my place the night before, but it appeared he’d taken the time to wash his glass before heading out into the rain.
I couldn’t help myself; I stalked over to his bedroom and took a peek at his closet. It was tidy all right, and also the most depressing wardrobe I’ve ever seen. Four pairs of apparently, identical khaki pants hung beside several white and pale blue button-down shirts and a tired looking brown moleskin jacket. Next to those was a garment bag, which held a charcoal grey suit, and a blue silk tie. That was it. Shock spurred me to become an official stalker. I poked through his drawers to find a single pair of dark blue swimming trunks, a stack of mostly white t-shirts, two very worn looking sweat suits, several pair of grey boxer briefs, tan and white socks and one pair of jeans. One pair of jeans! Who lives like this?
I collected the cheese and pepper in a daze and headed back to my cottage.
William laughed as I opened the door. “There you are. I was about to alert a search party. Did you have trouble finding the pepper? I should have mentioned that it was in the drawer at the bottom.”
“I snooped in your closet.” That’s right, I told him. I might be a stalker, but I’m an honest one.
He laughed. “Why?”
Handing him the pepper, I shrugged. “I wanted to see if it was as neat as your fridge.”
“And was it?”
I nodded. “Tell me those aren’t all your clothes.”
He frowned. His eyebrows came together and bottom lip jutted just slightly more than a grown man’s should. He’s adorable. “I keep some items in the dresser.”
“I mean, are you like a travel light kind of guy, but you have a full closet at home or is that really it?”
His shoulders slumped, and I knew I had upset him. He sighed. “I told you, I live wherever I am writing. I really don’t have a more permanent address. My mother keeps a room for me our family home, and if necessary I have things sent there, but I…”
“Travel, okay, that’s cool.” I was feeling guilty so I responded quickly. “I guess I would try to keep things simple too if I was always traveling, but…a little color maybe?”
He looked down at the counter. “If my clothing bothers you, I can purchase something else.”
I felt like a heel. “It doesn’t bother me. I’m sorry, don’t—”
“Clearly it does. I know that I’m not—I am overly thin, I have dreadfully curly hair, and I wear glasses. Changing my clothes will not change those things. It will not make me taller or broader. I am what I am, Buffy. I’m past the age of trying to pretend otherwise.”
Whoa. I had managed to stumble upon a load of insecurity. I could almost see him putting up walls between us. Stepping closer, I placed my hands on his arm. “First off, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
He turned slightly to look at me. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have been poking about my closet.”
I felt my cheeks heat up. William’s stern voice made me feel like a naughty eight-year-old. It had to be the accent. I swallowed hard. “There’s that too, but that’s not the important part.”
“It’s not.”
“Nope.”
His lips twitched like he was hiding a smile. “And what, pray tell is the important part?”
“I don’t want you to be taller or wider or anything else different than you are. I already told you, you’re gorgeous. Weren’t you listening?”
He smiled, but shook his head. “You’re being kind, it is not—”
“I’m not. Seriously, I don’t know why this is such news to you. You are a good-looking guy. Period. And there’s nothing really wrong with your clothes except they’re kind of…boring and all the same. Also, most of it seems too big for you.”
He shrugged as though it were hopeless. “As I said, I am quite thin.”
“This means you need to buy smaller clothes or they won’t fit.”
William looked horrified.
I gave a small laugh. “If your clothes fit better, you wouldn’t look like you were swimming in them. Clothes that are too big actually make a guy look scrawnier. ”I saw disbelief and hurt wash across his face; I hurried to continue. “You’re just thin, not too thin; you look great naked, so you should look almost as hot in clothes…if the clothes are right for you.”
He was still frowning, but looked less likely to run away. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I read Cosmo when I’m on the treadmill and I TiVo episodes of What Not to Wear so I can watch them when I get writer’s block.”
“Oh.” He clearly had no idea what I was talking about.
“I like clothes.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, if you ever want help finding a pair of pants that do justice to that super cute ass of yours, I’m your girl. If you don’t, that’s cool too.” I gave him a big smile. “In the meantime, I am really hoping you will still make breakfast.”
He gave me a little smile and a nod. “Coming right up.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Toast?”
I laughed at the question in his tone. “Probably.”
Ten minutes later, we were sitting at the little table enjoying delicious omelets with toast that was only slightly burnt. I scooped a piece of warm cheese covered egg into my mouth and moaned in delight.
“Shall I assume that means you like it?”
“Like it? This is perfection. I could hire you as my own personal chef.” I grinned. “How do you feel about wearing an apron?”
“I don’t normally, but—”
“I mean just an apron?”
He laughed. “Are you on again about my clothes?”
“Nope. I’m on again about your cute butt.”
William tilted his head to the side and pretended to consider the idea. “If I am wearing nothing but an apron, what would you be wearing?”
“Ooh-I don’t know. What does a woman wear to boss around a pretty naked chef? Heels— definitely—maybe a suit. You know, very powerful business woman.”
“Perhaps that swimming costume you purchased the other day.”
I giggled. “Oh-cause I’m like a lady of leisure in this scenario. I spend my days lounging at the pool drinking vodka tonics and ordering elaborate culinary treats from my scantily clad kitchen boy. Would you double as the pool boy?”
He leaned closer and dropped a quick kiss on my mouth. “You have a fantastic and creative mind.”
“You sound like my grade school teachers.” I adopted my perky third grade teacher voice and recited, “Buffy is a bright girl with a big imagination. She could easily get all A’s if she focused more on her class work and less on chatting with her neighbor.”
“So you make it a habit to chat up your neighbors then?”
“She meant the girl or boy whose desk was next to mine; I talked to whoever she sat me next to. Once I got in trouble for talking to Fred the turtle, our class pet. I’ll bet you were an angel in class.” I shook my head in mock disgust.
“I was rather studious.”
I pictured him as a shy little boy and nearly awed out loud. “I’ll bet.” The urge to simply walk over and straddle him then and there was only narrowly beat out by my stomach’s plan to finish the yummy omelet. “Did you have any plans for today, or more accurately what’s left of today?”
He shook his head. “Nothing important, I was thinking we might want to do a bit of beach combing. After the storm last night, I’d expect the shore is quite littered with shells and the like.”
I tried to hide my surprise. He wanted to hang out more. He wanted to take a romantic walk on the beach.
He must have misunderstood my pause. “Unless, you already have plans, do you?”
I shook my head. “Nope-I want to go collect shells.”
William smiled. “Brilliant.”
“Yup.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to SanityFair for her4 awesome beta-reading! Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing.
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