Love You Always (5 page)

“Oh my God, have you been watching me? Keeping tabs on my every move? Should I look for a camera in the toilet?” Of course I’m kidding, and although I should feel a little weirded-out by her watchful eye, I’m not. She has no human contact other than her brother, so she’s apt to be a bit curious about other people—which is only me at the moment.

“Don’t worry, I’m not fond of watching people take a pee,” She laughs. “I hope you’re not offended. Basically, when I could see my brother’s attraction to you, I wanted to make sure that you were good enough for him. Forgive me, but that’s my way of protecting him, since that’s the most he’ll let me do for him,” she says.

“He put you up to spying on me?” I ask, my eyes widen in surprise.

“Of course not. That’s my own doing. But he’ll probably ask me about you when he returns.”

“I don’t know what to say. I guess I should feel honored that you approve of me, but somehow I feel awkward.”

“Sorry about that. I do hope you take it as a compliment, because I surely meant it that way.”

I eye her curiously.

“You really think he’s attracted to me, huh?” I ask for reassurance. There’s my self-esteem issue again. Why can’t I just believe this can happen to me?

“You betcha. I can’t wait for my brother to return. Not only for me, but for you too.” She shines me a beautiful smile.

Oh my God. Now I’m going to be nervous as hell, and will be counting the days when Marcus returns.

Angela seems so excited for me. She gives me a hug.

“I’ve always wanted a sister,” she tells me.

“Hey, let’s take it slow, girlfriend.”

“Oh, don’t be such a scaredy cat. Live a little.”

“Talking about ‘living a little’ . . . will you let me help you with your agoraphobia?”

Her eyes go wide and she gulps.

~* Marcus *~

“I’m back,” I yell out as I enter the foyer. I put my bags down and close the door. It’s sure good to be home.

There’s music blaring in the background and no one to be found. I follow my ears and they soon lead me to the kitchen. I don’t walk in yet, but stand on the side of the entrance as I watch Angela and Laura struttin’ their stuff, while what looks like preparing to bake something. Flour is all around the countertop, in their hair, and smudged on their faces.

Angela rolls out dough on a cutting board, while Laura goes to the pantry, wiggling her cute little ass as she dances to the music, taking out a large can of some sort.

At the chorus, they both belt out in unison, singing their hearts out. Laura’s not bad, actually, but I’m afraid Angela can’t sing for beans. Our family was never musically inclined, unfortunately.

They haven’t seen me yet, so I stand here, leaning my shoulder against the entrance’s molding with a big smile on my face as they entertain me.

Laura turns around and spots me. Startled, she lets out a squeal. Angela turns to look at her, and when her eyes follow Laura’s stare, a huge smile curves my sister’s lips.

“Marcus!” she yells, and drops what she’s doing, runs over to me, and gives me a big hug. I don’t stop her even though she’s just transferred a dusting of white powder all over my suit.

“Hey, sis,” I say as I squeeze her tightly.

Laura turns the music down.

As Angela pulls away from me, she says, “You’re early. You aren’t supposed to be home for another three hours.” Her eyes look at me disappointingly. “We were going to surprise you with our special dessert. We’re making it just for you.”

I glance over at the mess they’ve made.

“Hmm. Looks to me like the process was getting out of control,” I say with a laugh.

She slaps me on the shoulder, sending a puff of flour into the air, along with her handprint on my suit. I wiggle my nose as the powdery substance tickles it.

“Is that all you can say after we’re going through all this trouble? How ungrateful,” my sis admonishes me with comical outrage. She puts her hands on her hips and stands defiantly before me.

“I’m grateful. I’m grateful,” I surrender, holding my hands up, hoping to redeem favor with her again.

It works. She gives me a smile that sets her pretty face aglow. I turn my attention to Laura and hold my hand up in a motionless wave. She reciprocates the gesture and sends a brilliant smile my way. My heart thumps hard as I gaze upon her, standing across the way, looking gorgeous even with all the powder all over her.

“Shall I leave and come back in three hours?” I ask, looking back at my sis.

“Of course not. Go unpack and clean yourself up, and by the time you get back down here, we may be finished.”

“It’s not going to take me three hours to do all that,” I tell her.

“It’s not going to take us three hours to finish this dessert, so don’t worry about it. Come down when you’re ready, silly.” She shakes her head.

“Well, I might just take a short nap, so it may be about three hours.” I look at the messy kitchen island they’ve been concocting their creation on. “Hmm, I’m not going to have to call in the fire department, am I?”

“Oh, shut up! Get,” Angela says as she grabs my hand and pulls me away from the wall, and then pushes me on my way.

“You’ve not only made a mess of the kitchen, but look at my suit,” I tell her.

“It’ll live to see another day,” she sasses back.

“Yeah, but maybe you won’t.” I reach out and tickle her as I did when we were kids.

She screams and wriggles, yelling, “Stop! Stop!” as I back her up against the wall.

Seeing that she’s probably had enough, I back off and I gaze over at Laura—she’s laughing, enjoying our playfulness.

“See you ladies in a few hours.” Before I leave, I glance at the mess. “And try to keep some of the ingredients
in
the dessert.”

“Go!” my sister commands, pointing the way out.

I laugh and leave them to their devices.

* * *

That one-hour nap did me good. I feel well rested and refreshed. I head downstairs to see how the women are doing with their project. Mmm, the aroma of freshly baked pastries permeates the air. My mouth salivates and my nostrils flare as I inhale the enticing smell.

Like a sailor drawn to the allurement of sea nymphs, but in this case, through my nose and not my ears, once again I end up in the kitchen. This time, Angela and her accomplice sit at the breakfast nook enjoying a cup of coffee.

“Hey, are you guys already eating the surprise meant for me?” They’re snacking on pieces of . . . of . . . whatever it is they made. It doesn’t look like pie—I can’t make out what it is.

Angela’s nibbling on a piece and says, “We had left over ingredients, but not enough to make a full second pie, so we made these tarts.”

I pour myself a mug of coffee and join them at the table.

“Well, it sure smells good,” I say. “Do I dare try one?” I tease.

“We haven’t keeled over yet, have we?” Angela retorts. She gazes at Laura and rolls her eyes. Laura chuckles.

“How long have you been eating them? Maybe I should wait a few more minutes just in case.” I pick one of the tanned pastries and examine it. The flaky shell’s not too hot, but I hold it by the crimped edges, so that area has probably cooled off. These are pretty fancy for scraps.

“You touch it, you eat it,” my sis tells me.

I scrunch my eyebrows at her and tweak up the corner of my mouth.

“Here goes,” I say.

Angela starts to say, “Hey, you should . . .” but before she can finish, I pop the tiny pastry shell in my mouth. My teeth chomp into it and hot sticky filling bursts out like molten lava, and damn!—it burns the roof of my mouth and tongue.

“Yeow!” I exclaim.

“Serves you right for popping the entire thing in one bite.” Man, my sis is in a scolding mood today.

“I didn’t know what was in it,” I defend. “You should’ve told me it was filled with goo. That sucker sticks to the roof of the mouth.”

I can tell the two women want to laugh, but they hold back because I’m in pain. Not that it’s life-threatening kind of pain, so I can see the humor in it.

“Now I’m not going to be able to enjoy the main dessert you made, because I’ve got no skin or taste buds left in my mouth.”

“I tried to warn you, but you were too fast.” She looks at me sternly. “And that’ll teach you not to tease us about our baking. We did this just for you, and you went and made fun of it.”

Laura continues to be amused by our sibling banter.

Did I mention it’s good to be home?

“How did your business trip go?” Angela asks as she sips her coffee.

“It went well. But I don’t want to talk about that. How did things go for you gals?” At least they seem to be getting along nicely from what I witnessed earlier.

“We had a blast,” Angela replies.

Laura hasn’t yet said a word. I wonder what’s going on with her. She seems nervous again, like when she came over for the interview. Hmm, do I make her nervous?

“Laura, my sister didn’t run you ragged I hope.” I try to get her to talk.

“Oh, no, Angela was wonderful. I really enjoyed being here the last two weeks. Wish I could stay longer,” she says. Her expression abruptly changes as if she said something she shouldn’t have and wants to recant her words.

“Marcus, Laura’s trying to help me with my agoraphobia. I’d like to keep her on if we can. Can we?” My sister looks at me with those puppy dog eyes that I normally can’t say no to.

I gaze at Laura and she immediately lowers her eyes, as if in modesty, not wanting to look me in the eyes. She sips her coffee.

I’d love to have this woman stay around longer. And not only for Angela, but for me too—I want to get to know her better. Angela seems to like her a lot, and I trust her judgment about people. She warned me about Sheryl, but I didn’t listen until my heart got burned. Some things, however, you have to find out for yourself. I wouldn’t have dumped Sheryl just because Angela didn’t like her. Back then, when my sis was a teenager, she didn’t approve of any girl I showed interest in. I think she felt I wouldn’t be the same brother to her if I was preoccupied by a love interest. She’s a different girl now, a mature woman, and I know she wants me to find someone to love. She’s often told me I should go out on more dates, but it’s hard to do that when she’s home alone, unable to enjoy the same things.

It breaks my heart to see her struggle with her disorder, to be unable to meet men, or anyone else for that matter. I know she misses going shopping, to the movies, and all the other things she used to do before the accident.

I do hope Laura can help her. This is one thing that not even I, the big brother who she’s always come to for help, can budge her with. So, just having her mention wanting Laura’s help is a huge step. Laura’s definitely got something special about her—she’s sure got me beguiled.

“It’s fine by me. If Laura wants to stay on, she’s welcome to do so.”

Laura gazes across the table at Angela. My sis gives her a single nod and a wide, almost mischievous grin crosses her face. I eye her suspiciously. I turn my attention back to Laura, and she now looks at me.

“I’d love to,” she says with a blush to her cheeks. Hmm, there’s something going on between these two. The way Angela smiled at her, and the look on Laura’s face, her blush—it’s as if they’re in some sort of scheme together. Just what are they conspiring? I cock my eyebrow as I look back and forth between the two.

Women
, I think to myself as I pop another tart into my mouth.

~* Laura *~

Although I feel a little uncomfortable about Angela playing matchmaker with her brother and me, a small part of me . . . wait, whom am I kidding?—a BIG part of me is excited to see where it will lead. I’ve already stated I’m attracted to Marcus, and according to Angela, he’s attracted to me. That thought makes my stomach twist in knots along with massive amounts of butterflies.

After my fallout with Keith, I am so ready to explore a new relationship. It’s been a little over a year since our break up, so it’s time to move on. Marcus seems to be making it easy for me to do that, even if nothing’s happened yet between us, except for a few sparks of chemistry flying about. I’m glad he’s agreed to keep me on here because I’m really enjoying Angela’s friendship, and of course, being around him.

“Marcus, why don’t you take Laura out on the lake today. You haven’t been out in the rowboat in years, so you can probably use the outing yourself, huh?” Angela says to her brother as she spreads butter on her toast, looking innocent of her underlying matchmaking plot.

Marcus, looking oh so handsome—but really, when doesn’t he?—in his mint green polo shirt, gazes out the bay window of the breakfast nook. “It sure is a beautiful day, so that sounds real tempting.” He turns to me. “You game, Laura?”

I look at Angela. I know she’s pushing Marcus and me to do something alone together, but I feel bad that she won’t be able to come with us. My face must give away my feelings, because she smiles and says, “Go, I’ll be just fine. Before you came, I did spend time alone, you know. Besides, I want you both out of my hair today. I’ve got things I want to do without being interrupted.”

“You heard the lady,” Marcus says, shining his pearlies at me. “She’s making you an offer you can’t refuse.” He mimics Brando.

I chuckle at his 3.5-star imitation.

“Well, okay then. But I’m only agreeing because I don’t want to wake up with a dead horse’s head in my bed.”

“It’s the dead fish you have to worry about. The smell sticks with you for days,” Marcus says to me, his eyes crinkling a smile.

I make a face as though I’m actually smelling the stinky stench. Marcus belts out a roaring laugh. I suddenly feel self-conscious of what my face must’ve looked like. Was it that goofy? Oh well, serves me right for trying to be funny.

“Good!” Angela says with a triumphant smile. “I’ll pack you guys a lunch.”

My eyes widen with horror. “Oh, please, please,” I plead, “no stinking fish sticks!”

* * *

With a small picnic basket in Marcus’ hand, we walk through a colorful and maintained rose garden, and then along a path to the lake. They have a gardener taking care of the landscape around their property once a week. Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen the man with his two sons (Angela told me who they were) tending to the outdoor chores each Wednesday.