The Stillness Of You(6)

Slowly I drove up the long, meandering driveway and parked the truck, my   eyes on the house, already taking stock of what needed to be done. The   roof and windows needed to be replaced immediately, that was a no   brainer and as Georgia and I walked up the pathway that led to the front   door, I realized the landscaping was going to be a major undertaking  as  well.

"Shit," I murmured, already half in love. My palms itched and I couldn't   wipe the grin off my face as I stood back and surveyed the large  house.  I glanced at the listing in my hands. Six bedrooms, four  fireplaces,  five bathrooms, and two kitchens. It was a family home. A  place to set  down roots and I wanted it.

I was twenty-four, single and loaded. I'm sure a lot of my buddies   expected me to look for a place similar to Matt's, but that wasn't what I   wanted. It wasn't me. In Los Angeles I'd shared an apartment with one   of the other rookies for year and had spent my last two in a condo near   the beach. The view was cool, but I hated being cooped up with no room   to roam.

I guess it was because at heart I was my father's boy. I'd grown up on a   farm outside of Toronto. I was used to space and I was used to  physical  labor. I wasn't bred for a life of clubs and getting my  workout in a  gym. When I wasn't playing hockey on the pond out behind  our barn, or  playing the game indoors at the local arena, I was helping  out with  chores around our farm.

One of the best summers of my life had been spent helping my dad restore   an old cottage on our property. We'd finished it for his mom-my   grandmother-so she could come and live with us after my grandfather's   death.

We worked every day to get it finished in time and I learned a hell of a   lot about carpentry. About drywall and tiling and using a hammer.

I liked to fix things.

"Wow," Georgia said softly and I glanced down at her.

I liked her.

"Yeah," I answered, grabbing her hand. "Let's take a look out back."

The feel of her small hand in mine kinda twisted my gut strangely. She   was soft and pliant and totally feminine. She looked like winter but   smelled like rain.

Okay, I knew I needed to stop with that poet fucking shit, but I couldn't help it.

Where had this girl come from?

The property out back was just as bad as the front, but again, the   potential was amazing. There was an interlocking patio that ran the   length of the home but with weeds sprouting everywhere I was thinking   the entire thing would have to be replaced. A long abandoned pool sat   empty and it was old-concrete-and would have to be replaced. The pool   house was hardly visible by the bushes that surrounded it. A black iron   fence enclosed the space and beyond, overgrown grass that would have to   be re-sodded, stretched for several hundred feet. The perimeter was   lined with birch from the looks of it and oak, maybe?

"Look." Georgia nodded toward an overgrown path that cut through the mess out back and disappeared between the trees.

We picked our way through the tall grass and though she'd taken her hand   from mine, I swear I still felt the heat of her on my skin.

She was wearing a soft blue tank top and the thin pink straps underneath   kept drawing my eyes. Cut off jean shorts showed off trim, runner's   legs, and even though they were respectable-at least an inch or two   below her butt-on Georgia, they looked sexy as hell.

On her feet were plain blue flip flops but she could be wearing a big   ass pair of high tops for all it mattered. Her ankles were incredibly   feminine, delicate even, and I found myself wondering what it would feel   like to run my fingers along the indents working my way up her calves   and then … .

I exhaled a shaky breath because once again, just thinking about the   girl's fucking ankles had me horny as hell, and that in and of itself   was weird because I was an ass man through and through. What the hell   was up with that?

"Oh, Ben, look."

I was looking. I was looking at her.

She'd undone her hair from the loose knot thing at the back of her neck,   and it spilled over her shoulders like wet ink. Her skin was creamy   white, and unlike most of the girls I knew, it hadn't been sprayed with   that fake shit that half the time looked orange. She turned back to me   and the smile on her face was nearly too much.                       
       
           



       

It was pure. It was sweet.

And at the moment it was all for me.

She was unlike anything I'd experienced before. And that wasn't because   I'd never been around pure and sweet before. Heck, my first serious   girlfriend, Joanna, a figure skater, was sweet and it took nearly six   months before I made it to second base.

I never did make it to third and that wasn't for lack of trying. At the   time I thought I was in love with her and that she'd wait for me and as   soon as I made it to the big leagues I'd marry her.

Of course that never happened. I moved away to play Junior A hockey and   then went to University in Ohio on a hockey scholarship, while she   finally let the local Pastor's son make it all the way to home plate.   Last I heard they got married right out of high school and she was   happily pumping out a pack of kids.

Joanna had been pure and she had been sweet, but she hadn't been for me.

But this one here, this girl with the exotic eyes, she was something   special and the fact that she had no idea made her even hotter.

"Isn't it awesome?"

"Yeah," I answered, my feet suddenly blocks of concrete as I came to a   full stop and just took a moment to take all of her in. The sun was   starting to set in the distance and standing there in a beam of light,   she was on fire. My blood was boiling and the need to touch her again   was something fierce.

"What?" she said slowly, a slight frown between her eyebrows.

I found my feet again and took the last few steps that brought me to   within a couple inches of her. That summer scent, the one that lived in   her hair and on her skin, was in the air

"You smell real nice." I spoke without thinking and tried not to wince.   What the hell was wrong with me? You smell real nice? She was going to   think I was some backward hick from the north.

Her eyes widened just a smidge and then she blushed. The girl full-on   blushed. When was the last time I'd made a girl blush? Not in the last   three years that's for sure and I wasn't going to count Sendin's sister,   Eve. First off she was only fifteen so that didn't count and secondly,   she'd sneaked a couple glasses of the rum punch from the King's annual   family Christmas party.

"Well, that's better than the alternative I guess," she said softly.

I didn't answer. I just shook my head like an idiot.

"So what do you think of it?" she prodded.

"Your shampoo?"

"What?"

Okay, her eyebrows were really close together now and she was looking at   me like I was crazy. Which, I probably was, but hell, what could I  say?  This girl had reduced me to a level of idiot that I'd not seen  since I  was fourteen when my mother caught me masturbating in the  shower.

"Have you been smoking weed when I wasn't looking? You're not making sense." She jerked her head. "I'm talking about the barn."

Right. The barn.

What fucking barn?

I turned and saw it. The barn. A barn that was out in the middle of   nowhere and just like the rest of the property it was rundown. But you   wouldn't know it by the look on Georgia's face. She looked like she had   just found buried treasure.

"Come on," she said breathlessly.

She took off at a jog and I followed slowly, enjoying the view because I couldn't take my eyes off her butt. Or her ankles.

By the time I reached the barn she had already yanked open the main   doors and was inside. It smelled musty and even the power of her summer   scent couldn't hide the old, unused air.

I stood beside her and glanced around at nothing. There wasn't anything   inside the barn other than a couple of old pitchforks and a wheelbarrow   that was missing its wheel. There was however a good amount of light   filtering in on account of the gaping holes in some of the walls and the   windows that had no glass. But the roof was good. There was that.

We poked around a bit and then I followed her back outside until we made   it past the trees and stood in the middle of the knee high weeds in   what would one day be an amazing yard.

"What do you think?" I asked, turning to look at her and surprised to find her gaze on me.

For a moment she said nothing, though she didn't need to, her shiny eyes   said it all. "It's perfect. It's more than perfect." She closed her   eyes and whispered. "It's so quiet and … still."