Love's Motive Chapter. 1
A crack of thunder pulled my attention away from the book in my lap. My joints suddenly announced their discomfort, so I stretched while looking out the window. Lightning illuminated the trees dotting my backyard.
I started reading a novel when the sun was still up, enjoying the natural light from my window nook. I looked across the room at the clock. My eyes took a second, adjusting to the change in distance... hours have passed.
A phantom of cold air caressed my exposed skin as a blanket of rain crashed down. Thunder boomed closer. The hair on my arms stood up in response. 'Get away from the windows.' A long-forgotten voice chimed up.
I shook away the thought and stood up, to stretch, not because of anything else...just to stretch. The next strike of lightning elongated my shadow before me. Small droplets of fear rolled down, stopping me mid-stretch.
"Thunk, thunk, thunk." Three heavy raps from the door knocker sounded. I crept quietly toward the front door, trying to dismiss the seemingly irrational fear.
I peered through the peephole to see a man. The rain had left his clothes soaked through, and he trembled slightly. I turned the lock and opened the door slowly.
"Did the storm box you in?" I asked, trying to read the look in his amber eyes. Thunderstorms often brought trees down around these parts. Helping stranded travelers was not unusual.
"Yeah, the storm came out of nowhere. I wasn't prepared." He admitted sheepishly as a hand went to rub the back of his head. He seemed harmless enough, but something in me screamed to stay alert.
"Step in right here and stay, I'll go get some towels." I commanded, walking away before giving him a chance to respond.
I tried to keep my pace smooth, but I walked too quickly into the bathroom. I raked my eyes across my face. It looked... flushed. I swear I could see my heart pounding against my chest.
I splashed some cold water on my face. After drying off the water with a plush towel, I stood up tall. 'Focus on your breath.' My lungs lifted my chest higher as I inhaled. The trapped air escaped slowly, my chest lowering in response.
The guest towels sat neatly folded in the top shelf of my towel closet. I grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that looked like they should fit.
The man was gone, or so it appeared at first. He had not listened but was instead standing in front of my bookshelves; rain drops puddling on the carpet around his feet. My bookshelves took up the walls on either side of the reading nook.
A flash of lightning highlighted his frame. His hair shined like black coffee under the light. "Hey, you're still wet! Away from the books." I ordered ushering him to the bathroom.
"I couldn't help myself. I'm a book lover too, and you've got quite the collection." The words stroked a piece of me I tried to ignore.
I clicked my tongue at his apology. "Bathroom, towel, clothes." I pointed at the open door down the hall where I had just vacated and handed him the things I was holding.
"Thank you, uh... I don't know what to call you." I didn't know which one was worse. His eyes, or that voice. The last part of his sentence came out low, his voice turning gravely. I didn't know what to call myself either.
"Violet." I lied. The word felt foreign coming off my tongue. His hand grasped mine, raising it slowly to his mouth. My eyes were staring into his when his lips made contact with the back of my hand.
"Thank you, Violet." He smirked as if he were in on the lie. The bathroom door shut, and the lock clicked into place. I stood in place, momentarily frozen.
The sound of the shower brought me back to the present. I paced around my living room, trying to get rid of this unease. 'Tea.' The word popped into my head.
After a guest arrives, I help them get dry and then offer them tea. Water sat high in the kettle as I turned the stove top on. Tonight seemed like an extra tea type of night.
Nervous hums fill up the space around me as I locate some peppermint tea bags. Two matching coffee cups were set on the counter; the design was the same, but one was black, and the other was white.
Wind howled ferociously, hiding the sound of the shower shutting off. As the water boiled, I added sugar and some milk to the counter next to the cups.
"You sure know how to make a man feel at home."
His words startled me so badly that I jumped. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" I exclaimed, my right hand clutching my chest as the left held onto the counter.
His chuckle sent a sensual shiver down my spine. "My bad, I didn't realize I was being so quiet." His teeth were the kind of straight you couldn't achieve with braces.
"Mhm." Is all the response I could muster. The kettles whistle broke the tension. I busied myself making the tea, actively avoiding looking in his direction.
"Okay." I said absent mindedly as I finished pouring the boiling water into the cups. The liquid slowly transitioned from clear to brown.
"So what brought you out here at this time of night?" I questioned while adding sugar to my mug. He didn't seem like the fishing or camping type.
"In all honesty, I got lost. GPS went out, and the rest is history." Charming; his words and mannerisms. It almost distracted me enough to not notice he hadn't answered the question.
"Well," I paused to take a sip of the too hot liquid. Then, I added a little bit more sugar. "The storm should pass by morning, and as long as the damage is average, you shouldn't be stuck here long." I rattled off the same sentence I've said a hundred times before.
"Did I do something to offend you?" His brow knitted in concern. As if he cared what I thought about him, I almost scoffed.
Instead, I took another sip of tea and closed my eyes. "It's not you, just the storm." I sighed, trying to get him off this line of questioning.
"Go on." He prodded, taking a seat on one of the bar stools I have next to the counter. "I got lost in a story and wasn't prepared to deal with reality...plus most guests aren't so chatty."
I risked a glance in his direction after my response. He seemed to be digesting my words, unaware of my eyes on him. I took my time letting my eyes trail across every part of his body. The clothes fit him too well.
"Like they were made for me, huh?" He teased, earning a small blush. The dim lighting likely hid the pink rushing to my cheeks, but I turned my head just in case.
"I've got to say, this is one of my favorite meet-cutes." My nose scrunched up at his words. "Do you make it a habit to run into a lot of women?"
His laugh came out soft, but my mind clung to the sound. "I wouldn't say I ran into you." Another killer smile was sent my way.
"Look, Stranger," I paused purposely. "This is not a rom com or an opportunity to add another notch in your belt. Got it?"
My eyes narrowed in his direction, awaiting a response. He stood up and walked around the counter. Stopping closer to me than I would have liked.
"My name is Dominik, but you can call me Dom." He looked down at me with an expression I couldn't place. While I stared, trying to decipher the look, my back hit the countertop.
He had steered me sideways, caging me with the counter and his arms. "Dominik, give me some space. This isn't appropriate." Anger steadied my nerves, and my voice came out firm.
"Okay, okay. I misread the situation." He stepped back with his hands held up. "The way you were looking at me, I thought maybe..." he trailed off, waiting for my reaction.
"The guest bedroom is down the same hallway as the bathroom." I rushed the words out rudely and walked around him to get out of the kitchen.
"Good night." I offered by habit and walked to my bedroom. I locked the door as soon as it was shut. Maybe I should just call the Bowner's to come and help him tomorrow.
The thought of spending any more time with Dominik produced conflicting emotions and thoughts. The man was objectively handsome, and that voice; A symphony condensed into one sound.
But something still didn't feel right. I'm not normally so jumpy around people. Yes, it's still storming... maybe I'll just wait until morning. If the unease is still there, I'll call Al to come down and clear off the roads.
Al and his wife Cheryl lived deeper in the woods than I did and hated dealing with the travelers. What they didn't hate was my baking. A couple of desserts paled in comparison to the way I felt right now.
Fear, arousal, suspicion, anger, and confusion swirled into one entity. Never before had any one person left me reeling like this.
An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. Yet, I couldn't stop hearing his voice replay in my head.
I couldn't help wondering what his large hands would feel like on my waist; in what direction they would roam first.
My body hasn't been touched in so long, three years at least. I avoided romance movies and novels. I-I wasn't prepared to deal with this.
Is that why I feel so uneasy? Things are being stirred up that I've spent so much time repressing.
Either way, I decided I didn't want to deal with him in the morning. I pulled out my cellphone and sent Cheryl a text:
"Hey, Mama. The storm brought in another stray, and I'm feeling a little under the weather. Could y'all help him leave in the morning? When I've got my strength back, I'll bring by some strawberry shortcake and lemon bars."
I turned the screen off and plugged the phone into the charger on my nightstand. If history served correctly, I'd never get a text back, but my guest should be gone before I wake up.
The thought eased my nerves. I strolled into my master bathroom and turned the shower on. The hot water always untangled all the knots of stress I carried in my shoulders.
I found myself locking the bathroom door as well. At this point, I started to get frustrated with myself. The shower was spent analyzing every minute since that man entered my home.
The uneasy feeling had started before he knocked on the door. A premonition or response to the sudden storm? I didn't have the energy to sort it all out in one shower.
My bed beckoned me, begging to finally be laid in. I couldn't sleep the night before. I left bed around 5 a.m. in defeat. It's only been half a day, but it felt like several.
“Beware of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” ― Aesop
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Humans have senses that aren't talked about in the same way the five basic ones are. Even if never discussed, they're there.
The emptiness of my home lulled me back to sleep the first two times I woke up. I didn't even check the clock to see what time it was.
Sunlight streaming through my window kept me warm as I slumbered. The vibrating of an incoming call against the wooden nightstand interrupted my peace.
"Good morning mama, thank you for taking care of the stray." I answered, ending with a soft yawn as if my brain were rebelling against having to speak so soon after waking up.
"Good afternoon, cherub." A light chuckle from Cheryl pulled the ends of my lips up.
"He did most of the work, believe this or not. And such an attractive young man, even with all those piercings." I could picture her face scrunching up and smiled harder. Cheryl and Al are both old-fashioned and don't care for tattoos or piercings.
"I'm glad he didn't cause too much trouble." I offered as I stepped out of bed. I stretched toward the ceiling, I rarely slept in this long.
"Not at all! I invited him over for lunch tomorrow. You're coming too, little one." I exhaled loudly. She was laying it on thick.
"Playing match maker again? I thought we settled this after the last time." I chewed on my bottom lip. They tried setting me up with their nephew last summer.
There was nothing wrong with him, but being so close to the family made the whole thing feel wrong. It didn't help that he was four years younger, either.
"Oh bunny for me, please? He only agreed to come because of you. Just one lunch. Even you have to admit he's easy on the eyes."
I rolled my eyes; she knew I couldn't say no to her. "Fine. Text me what time and I'll be there. I'm not wearing a dress."
Cheryl was likely rolling her eyes right back at me. "You will wear a sundress and be at my door by 11:30, ya hear me?"
"Yes, Mama." I answered with an exaggerated sigh. "I love you, I'll see you then." She'll say something about my attitude tomorrow for sure.
"I love you too, yn." I ended the call and released an annoyed grumble. Tomorrow was going to be unbearable.
Cheryl has become my surrogate mother, and she acted like it. She would absolutely spend the whole time trying to push us together.
While my loneliness wrapped around me like a comfortable blanket, to Cheryl, it looked suffocating.
Nothing I ever said was enough to convince her otherwise. She's convinced that healing the soul took a team. People weren't meant to do it alone.
Ok, what to do with the rest of today. Part of me wanted to lounge around in dread while waiting for the lunch to be over with.
If my stomach hadn't growled abruptly, I probably would have crawled back in bed. So, instead, I hurriedly made my bed, put on some slippers, and walked out to the kitchen.
The kitchen was spotless. Dom had put everything away when I stormed off last night. A folded piece of paper sat on the counter.
My hand reached toward it, but I stopped myself. Food first. I could make some eggs, sausage, and toast... or I could just have cereal.
I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room to look out the huge window. Tree branches littered the yard.
Eggs, sausage, and toast it was. I'm going to be in the yard for at least a few hours and would need the energy.
Speaking of energy, my motivation was flat lining. There was only one thing that could fix this, music.
I connected my phone's Bluetooth to the speaker system I had installed throughout the house. I leaned against the sofa as I scrolled through my playlists.
"Ah, here we are." I smiled as the sound of instruments filled my ears. Music is the most reliable override I have.
My hand cracked an egg autonomously as I danced along to the beat. The smell of breakfast had my mouth watering.
I barely let the food cool down as I ate everything standing up next to the counter. Between the music and full belly, my whole mood changed.
I felt prepared to tackle the word as I walked outside with some headphones on. That feeling dissipated the moment I saw my roof.
A large tree branch had collapsed over part of the roof. The damage didn't look terrible, but there's no telling until I get up there... and I really don't want to get on the roof.
I hate heights. Even the thought of climbing a ladder made my knees weak. I couldn't ask for help with this chore either.
Al would insist on doing it if he heard, but he's too old to be climbing up on a roof. My legs wanted to jump up and down tantrum style.
Fuck me, I didn't want to deal with that. Fuckin storm bringing me problems I don't want to deal with. Dom's face pops into my head.
Nope. "Let's focus on the yard." I say out loud to myself. I was not going to let him occupy my thoughts. But, don't think about a white bear, right?
I turned my music up too loud and started piling up the debris. I tried to focus on the wetness of the bark, the chill still present in the air from the sudden drop in temperature the night before, the music that beat against my ears, anything other than him.
Nothing could keep my mind from being flooded with questions, with thoughts of him.
What would he wear to lunch? What dress should I choose? Would he like the blue or green better? Will I still feel so uneasy? Why can't I get his voice out of my head?
Oddly enough, fixated on thoughts of Dom made the clean-up process blur by. It also left me blissfully unaware of how cold my fingers had gotten.
I walked in through the back door and immediately peeled my clothes off. Being outside for a couple of hours, let the cold sink into my skin and the clothes only made it worse.
After stashing the clothing in the washer, I cranked the showers' hot water all the way up. Yes, it would sting against the cold skin, but it would hurt in such an enjoyable way.
Do I like pain? No more than the average person. Yeah, that's a lie. But it's not an easy thing to explain. Of course, I don't like all types of pain, but there are some that feel so good.
I'm sure someone agrees with me. I mean, when you really think about it, when a person experiences too much pain in their life, they end up in one of two categories.
They either like experiencing pain on their own terms or they like bestowing pain onto others. Personally, I never cared for the bestower role.
I could probably be good at it, though. An image of Dom tied up flashed into my consciousness. Whelp, that's enough with the shower thoughts.
I didn't need things to turn the other way. I wouldn't be able to look at him tomorrow without my face flushing red. Hell, I still might struggle to keep the color off my cheeks.
What is wrong with me? How can I feel things like this about someone so unsettling? Cheryl's words didn't help, but it had to be something else.
Sunlight barely painted the sky blue when I got out of the shower. Night flirted against the sky, casting a pinky hue on the clouds; signaling the last few moments of the day.
I could lean against the window, watching the sky turn colors until the sun disappeared completely. But, I know if I show up to the lunch, empty-handed Mama would have a cow.
Luckily for me, I had a box mix for the lemon bars. Lemon bars didn't always turn out when I made them from scratch. Strawberry shortcake, on the other hand, is one of my favorite desserts to make. I could do it in my sleep.
Cake flour left white freckles on the counter tops, and my tongue held the sweet taste of unbaked batter. I know, I know, but I can't help myself. Getting to lick batter out of the bowl is one of the best parts of baking.
Sometimes, when I'm making brownies, the batter never even makes it into a brownie. There's this one book where a kid eats a chocolate he wasn't supposed to, and then everything he put into his mouth turned into chocolate, even toothpaste or water. He grew miserable, but honestly, I can't relate. Chocolate water? Sign me up.
I stood in front of my closet, unmoving. I've been like this for about ten minutes now. Picking an outfit should be easy. Why am I overthinking this so much?
The peach dress is too low cut, the periwinkle one too modest, the green one seemed like I cared too much. The blue one fit nice, but did the color really look good against my complexion? A thought I've never had before.
"Maybe this one." I shifted some clothes to fully reveal a dress the color of sunset pink clouds. "Obviously, this one." I smiled, holding it against myself in the mirror.
I'm smiling... because of a guy. The note! I ignored it again when I was in the kitchen baking. Earlier, it was easy to ignore, but now I practically ran to the kitchen.
"I'm sorry for last night. You saved my ass, and I repaid you by acting like one. I look forward to seeing you again, YN. PS Island of the Blue Dolphins is one of my favorite books."
The book mentioned in the note sat by the window, forgotten. I should at least move it away from the window, but I stood fast; unable to peel my eyes away from my name written in his handwriting.
I carried the note with me back to my bedroom. All the thoughts about me being foolish and silly were pushed aside as I memorized the angular handwriting.
"I wanted to see you again, touch you, know who you were, see if I would find you identical with the ideal image of you which had remained with me and perhaps shatter my dream with the aid of reality." ―Victor Hugo
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