Build a Love (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) (3 page)

Finally, one day he broke into my house. He raped, stabbed, and bashed me. He would have killed me if Vince and Andy had not turned up. They heard my screaming and rang the police before they raced into the house. They are both large muscular men—they wrestled with him and had almost managed to overcome him when the police turned up. He was running out the door when he ran into the arms of the officers.

I remember little of what happened after that. I was rushed to hospital, the doctors thought I would die, but amazingly I survived. My attacker was sent to gaol, where he still is.

The next few years I had counselling. Trying to come to terms with what had happened and with the fact that I would also never be able to have children. In the end, I decided I didn’t want to do any more. My parents passed away and I sold my old house and theirs, used the money to buy where I am now and build the original studio. I tried to move on with my life and in all but one aspect I was successful.

I threw all my energies into my work. I won a few major competitions with both my portraits and my nudes, and slowly I became an artist of note. I was at a point now where I could command rather high prices for my commissions, I was sought after for my work and things were very good.

The only downside was I was too scared to get involved with anyone. When I wanted sex, I usually did a little bar trolling and picked up someone. Mind you, it was not very often, in fact I hadn’t done it for almost two years. Usually I made do with my plastic friend. For me, if I did pick up a man, it was a quick fuck—solve my itch and no involvement. I never saw the same person a second time. Never let them kiss me. Never told them my name or where I lived.

Vince and Andy had lectured me on how dangerous that was but it was the only way I could have sex without emotional entanglement. Still, their words and concern made me realise how scary it was and I stopped. So now my only sexual relief was with a battery toy.

Still, the point was, I was so terrified of getting involved, of letting my guard down in case it all happened again. I view every male I met as a potential assailant.

I knew Vince was right. I just needed to get up the courage to take a risk but so far I hadn’t been able to. But for the first time in twelve years, I was actually tempted to let a bit of my guard down.

Well, if I did, it wouldn’t be happening with Bryan Garrett, not after the stupid way I had reacted. Sadly, he would be steering well clear of me.

Getting back to my feet, I went into the studio. I needed to clear away as much as possible before Monday.

The next few hours were spent with me moving things into the family room and spare bedroom. Piling up canvases, rolls of paper, and anything else I could move by myself, until all that was left in the studio was my huge work desk, my draftsman chair, easels, the map cabinet, and the chaise longue. I stood and looked at the family room. It looked as if a bomb had gone off but I told myself it was only for a few months.

I felt tired and dirty, and my muscles were tight. So after a quick meal, I grabbed a book and took myself off to soak and read in the bathtub before I went to bed.

The next morning I rang Mr. Black to tell him he could collect Muffy’s portrait on Saturday morning. He was all gushy and excited. I would be so glad to hand the piece over and not deal with him again.

When he arrived, with Muffy I might add, he was ecstatic. He loved the work and assured me Muffy did also. He was more than happy to write my cheque and as he handed it to me, he whispered that he had added a little extra as he was so happy with the work and would be telling all his friends to have their pets’ portraits painted.

I glanced at the cheque when he handed it over and thanked him profusely. He left and I stood waving him off, hoping I would never see him again despite the very generous tip. He had added a thousand dollars to my fee, I felt like doing a happy dance.

I spent the rest of the day completing a small set of illustrations for a children’s book before I changed for Andy’s birthday party. He and Vince had been my best friends for the past seventeen years. Vince had become my agent when I started making a name for myself and I knew I owed a lot to the pair of them.

For a birthday present, I had painted a portrait of the two of them together. Vince had been a sitter but we had worked around Andy’s part by using photographs. I wanted the painting to be a surprise and so even Vince had not seen it. It had turned out fabulous, I knew they would both love it.

When I arrived, the party was in full swing. They had many friends, both well respected in the art world and the finance world. Andy was an investment manager. They swooped down on me when I arrived and I was wrapped in a double bear hug, these guys were both over 6’ and both heavily muscled. When I managed to escape, I handed over the painting.

There was a moment’s silence and I thought perhaps they didn’t like it until I saw Andy’s eyes sparkle with tears. He couldn’t speak, he just hugged me and kissed my cheeks. Vince kissed me, thanking me for both of them. They propped the piece up on the mantelpiece in their living room, inviting everyone to admire it. I was embarrassed by all the praise and escaped into the kitchen as soon as I could to grab a drink.

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. We all ate, dance, drank, and laughed until the small hours of the morning. Finally, around three I couldn’t handle any more. I kissed them both goodnight and promised I would ring on Monday and let them know if the work had started.

They walked with me to the cab I had ordered.

“Sweetie, promise you’ll stop playing with plastic rodents and take a chance on some genuine happiness.”

Vince was serious and Andy nodded his head in agreement.

“We worry about you. Please, Harry.”

“I know you worry. I like my rabbit. Anyway I’ll honestly think about it.” I kissed them both. “Love you.”

I climbed into the cab and waved goodbye to them both. Tired and slightly drunk, I crawled into bed once home and slept until eleven in the morning.

The remainder of Sunday was spent in household chores and washing clothes. I was nervous about tomorrow, wondering how Bryan would react when we met and how I would feel. Finally, around ten I went to bed, setting my alarm for seven the next morning.

I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, taking extra care with my hair. I looked in the mirror, wondering how I look to someone else. Andy and Vince had always told me I was beautiful, I could never see that. I was 5’8”, I had waist length auburn hair that tended to be curly and have a mind of its own, green eyes and, although I was carrying extra weight, it looked good on me. I was big busted and big hipped. I consider my hair and my eyes my best features. Oh well, I guess it didn’t matter what I thought, other people saw me in different ways.

I went to the kitchen and dropped a coffee pod into my machine, and while I was frothing milk, I heard a car door slam.

My heart rose to my throat and I felt all tingly and nervous. I walked to the front door as the bell rang. Opening it, I was expecting to see Bryan but instead it was a stranger.

“Ms. Kempton?” I nodded.

“Hi, I’m George. The rest of the team will be here any minute. We will be pulling down the fence and getting started on the foundations. Just call me if you have any questions.”

“Thanks, George. I appreciate it.”

He walked off to the side of the house and I went back inside to finish making my coffee.

I was disappointed.

Silly I know, but I was expecting Bryan and instead got George. Maybe he didn’t want to see me again after the way I had reacted. Let’s be honest, I had practically kicked him out and screamed like some mad woman. Yes, that had to be it. He was no longer interested in me. I scared him off, so I guessed that solved all my problems now.

So why was I feeling so upset?

I moped around all morning, Vince rang close to midday. When I told him Bryan had not turned up, he just laughed.

“Thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with him? Sounds like you miss him.”

“I was worried about how he’d react. I wasn’t interested in him but I guess I just don’t need to concern myself now.”

I could hear his cackle down the phone, “Keep telling yourself that, sweetie, you might believe it, but I don’t. You have the hots for your hunky builder.”

I said goodbye and hung up with his smirking giggle in my ear. I tried to ignore what he said but deep inside I know I was more than a little interested in Bryan and hoping to see him again today.

That night, as I lay in bed, I took stock. Try as I might, I could not ignore the fact that I was sexually attracted to Bryan. But not only that, surprisingly, I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to know what his favourite food was, what made him laugh, did he love playing in the rain like me? Did he read books like me? What movies did he enjoy?

Well, it looked like it was not going to happen so I may as well get used to it. By his no-show it was obvious Mr. Bryan Garrett was steering well clear of me.

* * * *

That week and the start of the next fell into a routine. The builders would arrive around eight, I would make a coffee and then really mope once I saw that Bryan was not amongst them. Each day I would tell myself I wasn’t interested and each day I would peer out as the workmen arrived, hoping to catch a glimpse of the one person who was always missing.

In the beginning of the work, George had arranged for a big orange plastic sheet to be fixed on the wall that was partly demolished. That way there was no chance of too much dust coming into the studio. I had my work set out on the desk and had managed to get a fair amount done, despite the noise. I just stuck my headphones on and listened to my iPod all day.

Things were moving well. The foundations had been dug and checked, they had poured concrete. The framework for the walls, floor, and roof had gone up.

George had come in a few minutes ago to tell me they were going to rip out the walls to finish attaching the framework to the existing house so the brickwork could start. He said he thought it would be wise to pack up the work on my worktable and try to find somewhere else to work.

I had slid one of my easels into the family room. It was so crowded in there but I thought if I push the other easel into the spare bedroom I used as a library and office, I could work in there. The easel was one that I could lay horizontal, so it would work, although it would be jammed tight in there. I went back to collect my palette and paints, managing to spill half of them on the workroom floor before carrying them into the library.

I went back in with a rag, mopping up the spill and gathering the paints I had dropped when I saw a pair of work boots in front of me. Thinking it was George, I held a hand up and said. “Can you pull me up, please?”

A hand grabbed mine and tugged.

I let out a gasp of surprise. It was Bryan. He was dressed in jeans and an open shirt, his head covered in a bandana. He still had hold of my hand and we stood very close together. When I am nervous, I tend to chew my bottom lip, and I knew I was doing it now.

He looked down, his eyes going straight to my heart. My stomach did a flip as he grinned at me.

“Hello, Ms. Kempton.”

“Oh. Um…hi.”

I licked my bottom lip, his eyes were watching, and then I chewed my lip. My breathing increased.

“I…you…er…”

Oh my god, I was so flustered, I could not even string two words together. I dropped the paints in my hand again. Bryan bent and picked them up.

“Where would you like me to put them?”

“I…I…” I took a breath and tried to compose myself. “In the bedroom please.”

His eyebrow quirked at that and I got flustered again.

“Not my bedroom, I mean, it’s a bedroom, but I don’t do anything in there. I use it as a library.”

“That’s a shame you don’t do anything there.”

I felt myself redden, seems I couldn’t speak without making it sound like sex when he was around. I turned to walk back to the room. Bryan followed me. It was crowded in there, with him, the bookcases, easel, a big sofa, a small computer desk, a filing cabinet, and me. He leant passed me and put the paints on the desk, his arm accidently brushing against my breast. My nipple went
boing,
springing to attention and hardening instantly.

I just looked at him.

He smiled. He apologised and told me he had unexpectedly been interstate for the past week and a half. I gave a tiny sigh, it meant he had not been avoiding me. Bryan lifted his hand and I felt his fingers brush a stray hair from my face. I think I might have closed my eyes at his touch. I do know I leaned slightly toward him.

“We need to talk about the other day, Harriet. I have to apologise.”

“Harry, people call me Harry.”

He grinned. “We need to talk, Harry.”

I just looked at him, biting my lip.

He reached out and ran one finger cross it. I swear my panties were soaked with that single touch. So many emotions were running through my head.

“It was wrong of me to take advantage like that. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Oh.”

He looked a little embarrassed. “Harry, I’m really attracted to you. I know you’re attracted to me also.”

He looked into my eyes, his voice earnest. “I want to learn all about you. I don’t want a quick fling, Harry, this is more than that. I really am sorry about the other day, maybe I scared you, but surely you feel it, too.”

I looked at the ground. What to do? I could say no and he would walk away or I could say yes. But by saying yes I was opening myself up to something that I had not experienced for over twelve years. I didn’t know what to do.

I felt an arm go around me while the other lifted my chin to look at me.

“Harry?”

I shook my head. I was scared. I was too afraid to answer one way or another. Could I do this?

Could I open myself up, let my heart finally thaw out?

My mind was in turmoil.