"It really is impossible, Honey. I have my piano lessons and you have … well, you have whatever you have and it just won't work. I don't have houseguests and I especially don't have houseguests that are members of a biker gang," Elle continued to carry the one-sided conversation as she walked around the kitchen, "I think I have an old bottle of sherry somewhere. Hold on let me look."
She dug through the cabinets, finally finding the dusty bottle and cracked open the twist off lid before pouring a glass for Honey. Elle looked down at the bottle, then finally shrugged. She could use something a little stronger herself, come to think of it. Dealing with Honey was never easy, and especially not after what had happened between them. After pouring a splash into another glass, Elle carried them over to where Honey was still sitting on the couch.
Only, he wasn't sitting anymore, but was lying stretched out, taking up the whole couch but even still his feet hung off of one end. And he was fast asleep. With a sigh, she set down the glasses on the coffee table, grabbed the knit blanket from the back of a nearby chair and draped it over him.
Elle stared down at his sleeping form for a long moment before giving herself a shake, and taking herself to bed. She found she was suddenly exhausted too. She would just have to deal with Honey in the morning.
Chapter 15
Elle felt warmth. Heat. As she curled over onto her side, snuggling deeper in the spicy smelling blanket wrapped around her she couldn't help but let out a little sigh of contentment as sleep slowly released her. She almost didn't want to get out of bed, but she knew she had work to do at the farm today. And she'd given her word to Carla. No more ditching.
But as she turned, the blanket tightened around her, growling something at her back. Wait a minute, why would her blanket be growling at her? Her eyes popped open just as the breath hit the back of her neck, sending chills racing down her body.
"Good morning, baby," Honey whispered roughly, sleep making his voice low and gravelly in a way that her body instantly responded to. "If you keep pushing against me like that I'm going to start thinking that you actually like me."
Elle jumped out of bed, her breath billowing out of her lungs like a steam engine as she turned to face him, pulling her nightie tighter around her body as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"Just what do you presume to be doing?" Elle forced the question out. She knew her voice sounded prim and proper. Her ‘teacher voice' as Honey called it. But her heart was beating so fast she had to take several deep breaths to try and calm it.
"I presume to be sleeping. At least trying to. That couch is damned uncomfortable." Honey rolled over onto his back, his naked chest peeking at her from under the sheets as he let out an unconcerned yawn.
"You're in my bed," Elle said, her mind blank and still befuddled with sleep. And waking up next to a naked Honey certainly wasn't helping her mental faculties any.
"I know," he grinned lazily at her and she had to stop herself from sticking her tongue out at him. Knowing Honey, it would only encourage him.
"You are infuriating and … and presumptive!"
"Yeah, I got that one already," his grin just widened, her words rolling off him like water on an oil slick. Elle's eyes widened as she stared at his impressive form, trying to convince herself that her sudden shortness of breath was the direct cause of her irritation with him. Yep. That was it. She was just irritated. She definitely did not just imagine how good it would feel to run her fingertips over his pecs, or lower across his hard abs, or even lower.
With a silent curse at her own foolishness, she turned on her heel and stomped towards the door at the far end of the room. It led to her closet, a four foot by four foot room lined with dresses and sweater hanging neatly in order and a shelf up top with alphabetically organized boxes.
Elle reached out, angrily flipping through hanger after hanger and it was a long moment before she realized she wasn't alone. She didn't need to look over her shoulder to see Honey leaning insolently against the door of the closet, or to know that the only thing he was wearing were the same skin tight boxers she'd seen him in last night when she'd been patching up his injuries from the fight.
"I like that one. The dark red one. It brings out the blush in your cheeks," Honey said softly from behind her. She didn't look around as she answered.
"I'm not wearing that one," Elle bit off shortly, her words terse as she reached past the dress he'd spoken off to a neatly creased and folded pair of worn jeans that Carla had lent her and a matching blouse and cardigan before turning around. "And I do not blush."
"Oh yes, you do," Honey snorted as he watched her, "You're blushing right now."
"No, I'm not," Elle argued, even though she could feel the evidence of her lie in the burning heat that spread across her cheeks, just like he said. "Look, will you just go? Give me some privacy so I can get dressed."
Honey tilted his head to one side, examining her like a puzzle but that damned lop sided grin was still tugging up one corner of his mouth. Elle glanced around the small, cramped space as Honey still refused to budge. She could feel it creeping in around the edges. Anxiety. The claustrophobia.
"What's the matter, Elle?" Honey asked in that same rough, whispered voice, "Why are you acting so nervous? It isn't like we haven't been much, much closer. And besides, I've already seen you naked – "
"That's not the point!" Elle shouted, the words exploding from her as her lungs suddenly burned for air. She couldn't get enough oxygen. Dizziness settled over her as she tried to take a stumbling step, the already small closet closing in around her, "Let me out!"
"Just tell me the truth, Elle. That's all I ever want from you."
"The truth?" she spat out, "The truth is that … that sleeping with you was a mistake. This is all a mistake. You shouldn't be here. I can't – I can't – ." She heaved in another deep breath but it was like there was a weight on her chest, pressing down, not letting any of the air she so desperately needed inside.
"A mistake," Honey said slowly, the grin gone as if it had never been, before he turned and walked out of the room without another word.
Elle rushed out after him, stopping just outside the door as she inhaled the sweet air, the claustrophobia receding and a sick, greasy feeling of guilt taking its place. She could still see the injured look in Honey's eyes as she'd said the words and instantly regretted it. But it was too late to take them back. He was already gone.
***
Honey watched her. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her no matter how hard he tried. No matter how hard he focused on the task in front of him, his gaze was drawn to her again and again. Elle had her back to him. Luck had them both working in the greenhouse that day. Luck. Yeah. Right. That wasn't exactly the word he would have used. Torture. Now, that was much more accurate.
She bent over in those damned jeans and all the air rushed out of his lungs. Again. It had been happening all morning. Shit, to tell the truth it had been happening for the past three days. Three days that they had been working together on the farm, living together in her small, quaint little cottage house. Three days since she'd said that sleeping with him had been a mistake.
Honey shook his head as the memory slice through him. Elle was wrong. It hadn't been a mistake. It had been one of the best things that had ever happened to him. But now there was a tension between them, a new tension underlying the ever present desire and need that pulsed like a living thing whenever they were in the same room.
He just didn't understand. He knew that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He could see it in the way she stared at him when she thought he wasn't looking, and the way her breath would hitch in her throat whenever their eyes actually met. Which hadn't been often the past few days. Elle had done her best to avoid him but it was impossible since they were essentially spending twenty-four hours a day with each other.
That was another thing. She hadn't made him leave yet. Every day he expected her to come up to him, point her finger and lecture to him in that prim way she had about all the reasons it was impossible for him to stay at her home. But she hadn't.
What she had done was relegate him to the couch, and he hadn't been lying, it really was damned uncomfortable. Honey swept a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing at the sore muscles and the permanent knot that had formed. He was worried that he would never be able to loosen it.
He cast another sideways glance at her. She was still bending over some trough full of tiny seedlings just starting to sprout. The worn denim molded around her lush ass in a way that made him clear his throat roughly and force his gaze away as his body rose to attention at the delectable sight. Casting about for anything to distract himself he glanced at the big, grime covered clock that hung over the door.