Bedroom Secrets. Michelle Celmer
He liked too much that he could make her that happy so easily. It shouldn’t have mattered how she felt.
At least he seemed to be over his initial anxiety. As long as he didn’t get too close to her he should be okay. But man, she was pretty. And vulnerable.
What the hell was he doing?
“Thank you Mr.—I mean, Ty. Thank you so much for giving me a chance. You won’t be sorry.”
He almost laughed. He was sorry already.
Tina gazed up at the brick bungalow that matched the address on the slip of paper Ty had given her. It had taken her a long time to find it in the unfamiliar city. So long it was already growing dark. Icy wind whipped around her, penetrating her denim pants and thin nylon jacket and sending leaves scurrying down the street. She was cold and exhausted and ached for a restful night of sleep. And a hot shower would be heaven. She hadn’t showered in days, only cleaned herself up as best as a person could in a bus station restroom. Which wasn’t all that great. Her skin felt grimy and her hair dirty and her scalp was itching like crazy.
She couldn’t believe what she was considering doing.
It wasn’t exactly breaking and entering, because she had a key. And it would be for only one night. Tomorrow she would have money for a motel. And a meal. And, of course, she would go back to the diner and pay Mae. If it wasn’t for the kind old woman, Tina wouldn’t have a place to sleep tonight. Or food in her belly.
And Tyler, well, she hadn’t quite figured him out yet. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was afraid of her. Which didn’t make any sense at all. A man so physically beautiful couldn’t possibly be insecure. Everything about him screamed all-American hero.
Lord knows, he was her hero.
And how would he feel if he knew she was seriously thinking about crashing in his rental house? She would be violating his trust.
Well, not exactly, because technically he never said she couldn’t sleep here tonight. And what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Right? This way, she could get an early start on the cleaning and have it done in plenty of time. Then he would be more likely to give her another building to clean.
She had to make up her mind soon, or people would start to notice her standing there and get suspicious.
Sleep on the street in a box somewhere in the freezing cold, or in a warm house? Wow. That was a tough one. She took the key from her pocket and started up the cement walk to the front door.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she’d slipped the key into the lock, turned the knob, opened the door and stepped inside.
The room smelled of latex paint and new carpet and the air was chilly. With the blinds closed, it was dark, so she felt along the wall where she thought the light switches might be until she found one. She blinked against the sudden bright light and looked around. Beige walls, beige carpet. Small, but cute. It was so clean, she wondered what it was she was expected to do. But when she looked more closely she noticed the blinds were coated with a thick layer of greasy dust. She suspected the windows could use a good polishing.
No problem.
An archway to the right led into a tiny kitchen and nook. In the corner sat all the supplies she would need. Cleaning solvents, buckets, rolls of paper towels and scrub brushes.
The floor in here definitely needed a thorough scrubbing and a coat of wax. The stove was crusted with baked-on food and grease. She pulled the fridge open and the rank odor seeping out nearly singed the skin off her face. Eew!
She slammed the door shut. That would need a major disinfecting and some serious airing-out.
Her bladder full to bursting, she decided her next stop would be the bathroom. She found it down the hall, next to two small bedrooms. Thank goodness, someone had left toilet paper on the roll and a bar of soap by the sink. But the room reeked of mildew. She pulled back the shower curtain and immediately realized why. Halfway up the tile wall the grout was black with it. She definitely had her work cut out for her. But she hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d told Ty she liked cleaning. As cooking and caring for her aunt had, it gave her tremendous satisfaction.
Her cousin Ray had wanted her to take care of him, too. In an altogether different way, she thought with a shudder of disgust. She wondered how long he’d spent sprawled and unconscious on the kitchen floor. And what his reaction had been when he’d realized she was gone. The memory of his meaty hands groping her, his rank breath on her face, turned her stomach.
That was all behind her now. She would find her father and start a new life somewhere. Maybe right here in Chapel.
She found the thermostat and cranked the heat up to a balmy seventy-five degrees. By the time she finished showering it was warm enough in the house to walk around in only a T-shirt. She threw what few clothes she had in the washing machine in the basement and settled into one of the bedrooms. She shut the light off and, using her backpack as a pillow, stretched out on the carpet. Her entire body sighed with fatigue. She couldn’t have lain there for more than five minutes before she was sound asleep.
Until she heard something.
She bolted upright, heart pounding, disoriented in the dark. She wasn’t even sure what had woken her, but she knew something wasn’t right. After years of caring for her elderly aunt, she’d trained herself to sleep lightly, to wake at the slightest hint of trouble, the faintest sound. She groped for the watch hooked on her backpack and lit the tiny face. Almost midnight. Then she heard it again. Footsteps.
Someone was in the house.
For a second she was frozen with fear, then instinct snapped in and she scrambled up, grabbed her backpack and headed for the closet. She pulled the door closed and it shut with a loud snap. She cursed silently, hoping the intruder hadn’t heard. It wouldn’t take them long to realize the house was empty and there was nothing to steal. Unless stealing wasn’t what they had in mind. Maybe someone had seen her enter earlier and knew she was here alone and defenseless. Had she even locked the door before she’d fallen asleep?
Heart sinking, hands trembling, she dug through the pack for her pepper spray. She closed her fingers around the small canister and flattened herself against the back wall. Through the cracks around the door, she could see the light come on and her heart seized, then restarted triple-time. She stood frozen with fear, finger on the trigger, ready to fire. The footsteps were closer, and a shadow fell over the door, then the door swung open—
Tina closed her eyes tight and shoved her finger down on the trigger, letting the pepper spray rip.
“Son of a—!”
Uh-oh. She recognized that voice.
She opened her eyes and the pepper spray dropped from her hand.
Spitting out a stream of curses, Tyler Douglas stood in the middle of the room wrestling a black leather jacket off his arms. He flung it to the carpet and clawed at his shirt. Buttons flew in all directions as he ripped it open and tore it off. The skin underneath was beet-red. That’s when she realized she must have sprayed him not in the face, but in the chest. Not surprising, considering he was at least a foot taller than her and she’d never thought to aim up.
“Damn, that burns,” he groaned.
She could see he was in agony, and snapped out of her shocked state when she saw him lifting his hands to his eyes. “Don’t touch your face! It’s pepper spray.”
“Pepper spray? What the hell—”
“The bathroom,” she said, leaping from the closet and grabbing his arm. “We have to wash it off you!”
She dragged him down the hall to the bathroom. Flinging back the shower curtain, she turned the cold water on full-blast and shoved him under it—clothes and all.
Ty gasped as the icy water nailed him in the chest, but at least it eased the burning sensation on his skin and the constricting ache in his lungs. His eyes were beginning to burn