The Innocent Liar (5 page)

Chapter Nine

T
he damn shack that sat behind the warehouse was fast becoming Fiona’s most hated place in the world, aside from her own home. She shivered again all night, even after pulling on extra socks from her large tote purse and tucking her chin down into the parka to keep her face warm. She was dirty again, she was freezing, and by the time the sun came up, her stomach was growling.

She spent a few hours in the same coffee shop she’d visited a few days before, and this time she splurged on a large, hot cinnamon roll that she saw as a necessary source of fuel. She used to avoid carbs like the plague, convinced they would destroy her figure. Now, she’d take any carb she could get her hands on.

She had to kill time until three thirty that afternoon, and she had absolutely nothing to do. She ended up at the library, reading a book she knew she couldn’t check out, and come three o’clock, she reluctantly placed it back on the shelf, only a third read. The smut level had been high, and even she appreciated it. Her cheeks blushed as she read, and she kept scanning the library to see if anyone had noticed the shit-eating grin on her face. It was blessedly quiet in there, and when she finally left, it was with plans to return the next day. Until she could afford a shitty little apartment or hotel room, this might just end up being her home away from home.

The workshop was buzzing with sounds, and after checking to see if Eli was in his office and finding it empty, she started cleaning the restrooms. The workshop was silent within an hour, and she spent her time brushing off the work surfaces and then sweeping. The massive vacuums were amazing, and they routed the vast majority of sawdust from almost every piece of equipment in the room, but it was still incredible just how much gritty, powdery sawdust still coated almost every surface. After sweeping, she used cheesecloth to clean around the smaller details of the equipment, picking up the bits of residual wood particles that she hadn’t been able to brush off. She collected the scraps from the bins by the different equipment and tossed them in the central scrap bin to be looked at by Aaron. He was in charge of deciding what scraps were salvageable and which were not. Once she emptied the garbage cans, she sat down for a while. It was completely silent in the large old warehouse, and it was nearing ten.

She was only expected to stay until ten, and after a short break, she finished her night by washing the windows of Eli’s office and hers. His office was as empty as it had been when she arrived, and she’d not seen him the entire day. She hadn’t expected that, and she also wasn’t sure why it was a bit disappointing. She’d actually enjoyed his company the night before—surprising to say the least. She’d been far too tired after her scare from the night before and a night on the streets to fully enjoy herself, but being with him in the warmth of the warehouse had been nice—almost nice enough to make her feel like a real human again.

When the janitorial closet door at the hotel had suddenly been pushed open, she’d panicked and shot up from her sleeping place on the floor. Her hair was still damp from her mop-bucket-sink hair wash, and she’d bolted, almost missing the straps of her tote bag as she darted by the startled clerk. He’d hollered after her, and she’d kept her feet moving forward, hoping he’d not seen her face. She ran, and she ran, and she thanked God she was fit enough to get her ass a couple miles away fairly quickly.

She listened for sirens, hoping the night would stay quiet. She had a horrifying fear that they’d call the police and dust for prints. It seemed like a stretch, but what the fuck did she know? And after panicking for too long and letting the paranoia consume her, she’d used a payphone outside a laundromat, and she broke the rules.

“Girl, what did I tell you about calling me? I know how to reach you, and when and if I need to, I will. Please tell me this is an emergency.”

“I don’t know! Sam, I might have fucked up.” She rattled off her tale, and he listened, but the moment she was done telling him what happened, and she launched into her paranoid rambling, he stopped her.

“Now listen, that hotel doesn’t likely care that some poor scared woman was hiding in their supply closet. They might change the locks and check the supply rooms a bit closer, but they’re not likely going to bother calling the police, and even if they did, the chances that the police are going to fingerprint a supply closet that is used by multiple people when there’s nothing of any real value missing is slim to none. Settle down. Had I known you were so broke you couldn’t even afford a cheap hotel room, I’d have sent you away from Salt Lake City with some cash. Why didn’t you tell me you needed money? I can’t wire you any without busting your identity. The most I can do is send you some cash in the mail to the workshop.”

“I think I’ll be paid soon, so I wouldn’t bother.” She was hoping at least. She wasn’t sure she could do this for much longer. She hadn’t worried about hopping a bus to Jackson without any remaining money left because she’d thought the job with Hunter’s was a given. It had turned out to be more of a struggle than she’d assumed.

“Then, chill. We’ll talk soon, but no more payphones.”

They had disconnected quickly after that.

Now, she was warm, dreading going back out into the cold and seriously contemplating sleeping in the break room. Instead, she wandered into the men’s room, stared at the shower, and contemplated something else. It had been days since she’d had a real shower, and she was going into a weekend where she’d have no place to sleep, bathe, or eat. She stared for a few minutes. Her nerves were on edge, but her desire for a hot shower, the kind she’d not had for longer than she could recall, was stronger than her worry.

She stripped down, stashing her dirty clothes in her tote. She pulled her last clean pair of underwear, pants, and shirt from the bag and grabbed her toothbrush. She stood naked at the sink, brushing her teeth, and stared at herself. She barely recognized herself anymore. How had this become her life? She had nice clothes once, and she remembered having friends when she was younger too. She’d gone to movies, out to dinner, she’d laughed, been carefree, she’d had a life. She’d liked men once too. She’d liked the thrill of a first date. She’d liked the first touch even more. She’d been so completely normal.

She stuck her tongue out at herself before she sighed at the tired eyes that stared back. Her skin was sallow, and she’d only been able to fight off the exhaustion with a pot of strong coffee. Now, she wasn’t even sure she could stand through a shower. The idea of returning to the small shack was painful, and as she watched herself in the mirror, her eyes teared as the dread crept into her mind. She just wanted warmth and sleep. She’d taken it for granted once, but at the moment, she might be willing to part with a limb for a good night’s sleep.

She sniffed back the tears, grabbed a towel from the shelf that sat just inside the locker room door, and she headed toward the showers. The large shower room was like any other she’d ever seen in a locker room. A bank of lockers lined a wall with a long bench that ran in front, and there was a large, wide entrance into the expansive, tiled shower room that had four shower heads along the two longest walls. She hung her towel on the wall rack just outside the shower room and turned on the nearest shower. As she waited for the water to heat up, she swayed slightly on her feet. She was likely far too tired to be doing this, but she was going to fucking get clean even if she did fall asleep on the shower floor for a while.

There were automatic shampoo and soap dispensers between the showers, which was good considering she had none of either, and as she stepped into the hot jets of the shower, she moaned loudly. It almost sounded erotic or aroused, and she wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t. She reached for the shampoo dispenser and then scrubbed her hair vigorously. She rinsed and repeated the whole process to get her hair as stripped down clean as possible, and then she used her hand to wash her body with the soap. Her hand moved over her skin, and she had to brace herself with her other against the wall just to stay upright. When she was convinced she was as clean as she could possibly be, she placed both hands against the wall and let her chin sink down to her chest. Her eyes closed, and she locked one knee as she took the weight off her other foot. She could nearly fall asleep like this, and when she opened her eyes moments, if not minutes, later, she wasn’t at all sure she hadn’t.

“If you stay any longer you’ll turn into a prune.” Eli’s deep voice invaded the silence, and she spun around to face him, nearly toppling over as she had to regain her balance. Her long, soaking hair whipped across her face, sticking to her cheeks and catching in her eyelashes. She gaped at him as he stood in front of her, casually leaning against the shower entryway with his arms crossed on his chest. He didn’t even attempt to disguise the trail his eyes ran over her body, and he took his time letting his attention move from her eyes down to her breasts, and then farther down along her stomach to settle over her groin. His nostrils flared, and she stood frozen like a statue, letting him examine her.

“Eli…” His name was breathed out as she panicked and he moved toward her. He reached around her body, smacking the shower knob off, and then he was back to studying her. His dark eyes focused on hers, and when she started panting as her fear mounted, his focus shifted down to her chest as it rose and fell quickly.

“Are you afraid of me?” His attention moved back up to her eyes, and she nodded rather than try to speak around her lurching breath. She was terrified. There was no sense denying it. What she was doing was wrong, and he couldn’t possibly have missed that fact. He was not a man afraid of hurting her feelings, and if he was pissed she was showering in his locker room, there was little chance he’d be biting his tongue for her benefit.

“Towel…” Her voice was again whisper quiet. Only after he studied her eyes for many more long and uncomfortable seconds did he turn from her, walk from the shower, and grab her towel from the hook. He held it out to her but refused to close the space between them. She walked on shaky legs to him as he watched her, and when she was standing naked in front of him, he wrapped the towel around her shoulders rather than handing it to her. He was gentle, even oddly kind, and in her overly exhausted stupor, it was enough emotion to leave her desperate soul crumbling.

Her eyes flooded with tears, and she let out a sob before she could stop it, and as she started to fall apart in front of him, he scooped her up in his arms. He sat on the bench, holding her in his lap and wrapping the towel around her. He shushed her as she cried quietly against his chest. Her breathing eventually slowed, and she drifted off to the warm scent of his body.

Chapter Ten

S
he was stunning—absolutely stunning. Eli’s lap was damp from Fiona’s wet bottom sitting on his thighs, but he didn’t even think of disturbing her for a good fifteen minutes. He hadn’t expected to find her in the showers, but when he entered the workshop to see the lights still on, he was relieved she was still there. He wanted to get out of his meeting earlier in the day, but the owners of the company in Cody wanting to contract him for the furnishings in three newly built contemporary rental cabins had already rescheduled on him once, and he didn’t want to turn around and do the same to them. The drive was five damn hours, two of which were spent crawling at twenty miles an hour through Yellowstone, trying to avoid the wandering bison, not to mention the wandering tourists that were just as annoying as the wildlife, but it was still the fastest route to Cody. What he hadn’t expected was to find her standing naked in the shower.

He’d studied her for at least ten minutes. She was far too focused on her shower to notice him gawking, and that’s exactly what he did. He let his eyes study every inch of her skin. Pale skin was unforgiving, and it did nothing to hide imperfections, but he found out quickly she had absolutely none, barring what appeared to be the letters LK scarred or branded into her upper right buttock. He’d studied the letters, trying to figure out how they were made. Were they her initials? A lovers? Either made sense, though the way they’d been inflicted made none. A tattoo was logical, but this was no tattoo. The scars were pink against her pale, creamy skin, but regardless of that added mystery, he’d easily become side tracked by the shape of her bottom.

Her cheeks were round, firm, and completely squeezable. In fact, the moment he took in the shape, his dick was instantly hard, and he could think of nothing but gripping those cheeks harshly as he pistoned his hips between her parted legs. He’d been struggling against a most unwelcome attraction to her, and seeing her so exposed in front of him was torturing his already intense need. Her legs were toned and strong, and her waist was small. She had perfect curves, and he wanted to run his hands over her shape so much he’d struggled to keep himself from panting as he watched her.

She’d not turned around to face him until he’d spoken to her, and even then, speaking was only his attempt to put a stop to his own reckless behavior. It did not stop him from taking his time looking at her front side. She had round breasts that were large and perky. Her nipples were small and pink against her supple skin, and when he finally let his eyes glance down to her sex, he stopped breathing. He had no idea if she noticed or not because he was too busy staring at her pussy. She was lightly haired, but she kept her hair trimmed short, and he could see the cleft of her lips. All he could think about was sliding his tongue between them and tasting her. He wanted to feel her wriggling under his mouth, and regardless of the desperate situation he knew she must be in, it didn’t seem to stop his mind from wanting her body. That was until she nearly collapsed against him.

As he held her on his lap and she breathed quietly against him, he felt like a shit. Whatever it was that was happening to this woman, it wasn’t good, and his attraction to her didn’t help in any way. Odd how much he suddenly wanted to help her. In truth, he’d never been opposed to helping her. He wasn’t such a prick that he found philanthropy a waste of his time, even if he acted like a dick most of the time. But he didn’t like the secrecy that came with helping her, and he hadn’t been handling it well. He still wasn’t. He was too much of a control freak to think he shouldn’t know everything he wanted to know about his damsel in distress.

When she suddenly sucked in a quick breath and her body came alive again, he tightened his hold on her and shushed her with his lips against her temple. “You’re fine.”

“You’re being oddly nice to me.”

His lips pulled up against the soft skin on the side of her face, and he chuckled. He really was being a bit of a softy at the moment.

“It’s hard to be rude to a naked woman in your shower.” He felt her laugh in the slight movement of her body against his. “You don’t have anywhere to stay do you?”

She stilled for a moment at his question, and then he felt her shake her head. “No.”

He could barely hear the word.

He pulled back from her slightly, and she looked up at him nervously. The movement pulled her breasts away from his chest. It had been hard enough to concentrate with her rock-hard nipples pressed to his chest through his thin T-shirt. Now it was downright impossible, and before he could stop himself, he glanced down to the tight, pink peaks that touched and tickled his shirt.

“How about you get dressed? This is a bit distracting for me.” And God he was hoping she couldn’t feel his raging hard-on that was sandwiched tight against her hip. Or maybe he did want her to feel it.

He waited outside the restroom for her, and ten minutes later she emerged dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Her hair was twisted into a loose bun at the back of her head, and it was wavy within the spirals of her bun. She looked so tired he was exhausted just seeing it on her face. Her eyes weren’t bright and open, and her shoulders were slumped.

“Come on.” He took her bag from her and led her through the shop, flipping off light switches as they moved through the building. His SUV was at the curb, and he helped her in. He was almost expecting an argument. She was a bit stubborn, after all, and God knew he was, but she didn’t say a word. She sank into the seat, and he rounded to the driver’s door and pulled away. “Are you hungry?”

“I don’t know. I’m just so tired.” She was looking out the window, and they were silent until he pulled into his driveway ten minutes later. “Where are we?” She looked over to him.

“My home.”

Her brow flinched for a moment, but she followed him up the steps to his front door. As they entered, she looked around and he moved to the kitchen counter, grabbing the partial bottle of wine he’d started and then abandoned the night before. He offered her a glass, and she accepted before he led her to the sofa in his living room. It was nearly midnight, and it was snowing outside again. He finally felt at peace, and he knew it was because he could stop worrying about her now. Eli was an incessant worrier—about his business, about his designs, about his money. But he wasn’t one to get close enough to others to worry about them, and it felt odd. It shouldn’t. It should be normal, and he knew that, but it wasn’t for him.

“Eli…” She didn’t seem very sure of what she wanted to say to him, but he kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to figure it out. “Thanks…and sorry.” His eyebrows shot up before he could temper his reaction to her words, and she needed no other encouragement. “I can’t be making your already difficult decision to hire me any easier for you, but I do appreciate it.” Her lips pursed as she waited for his response.

He made her terribly nervous; he could see it on her face, and he wasn’t surprised. He had that effect on people, but she was also surprisingly good at holding her own with him in her own way.

“I’m learning to deal with it.” He smirked. His half-smile was the most he could offer to calm her nerves. “You know, I’m not as big of a jerk as I sometimes seem.” He was actually, but he didn’t really want her thinking so.

She studied him for a moment, and he could see her deciding whether she wanted to respond to that. He wanted her to, and she rose to the occasion even in her tired and weary state. “I don’t think you’re a jerk.”

“Yes, you do.”

She was silent then as she sipped the wine. He offered her some crackers, and she snacked as she drank, and soon her eyes looked heavy again, and he started to wonder if perhaps she might fall asleep with her glass in her hand. He led her back to one of the spare bedrooms in his sprawling house and left her there. When he checked on her half an hour later, she was sound asleep with the bedside lamp on. He watched her for a moment before going to bed.

He’d had plenty of sex dreams in his life, but that night he was quite certain his dream was one long and tormenting erotic journey. He woke himself moaning her name. His cock was hard, his mind was flashing images of her naked body, and he was desperate for a release he wasn’t going to be indulging in. Seeing her naked was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it was taunting to see something he wanted to have but was going to be denying. But, on the other hand, who the hell could regret seeing something like that? He ended up walking around his house aimlessly when he couldn’t sleep, peeking in on her, and then walking around some more. She was wearing only a tank top and underwear. The cargo pants and shirt she’d had on were lying in a chair that sat next to the dresser.

He had no business touching her belongings, but he did anyway. He pulled her clothes out of the bag as she slept. He found a wallet and held it in his hands for a minute before putting it back unopened. He wanted to open it so much it was almost impossible to set it down, but at the last moment, he shook his head and returned it to her bag. Perhaps he could solve his mystery by opening it up, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t like what he found. As he glanced at her, he was hit with a pang of guilt. Why? Her clothes were dirty, and he was going to wash them. It should be reason enough, but he knew it wouldn’t be for her. Little else was in her bag—a few tampons, a small makeup bag that had nothing but lotion in it, mascara, lip gloss, and a toothbrush with a small travel size tube of toothpaste. Her bag was otherwise empty aside from the wallet that was taunting him. But he managed to keep his hands off it. He collected the laundry silently. He checked the pockets quickly before tossing her clothes in the washing machine with some of his own.

Her bag had held three pair of jeans, all size five, three long sleeve shirts, a fleece zip up, four pair of socks, five pair of underwear, and two bras. Her shirts were either small or medium, and her bras were a very generous thirty-two C cup. Nothing of what he pulled out told him anything about her except her body size, and he already knew it was perfectly curvy and perfectly fuckable. There was little doubt in his mind everything she owned or at the very least everything she had with her was in that damn ridiculously large purse, and after he started the wash, he collapsed on the sofa in the living room, finishing the bottle of Shiraz he’d left abandoned on the coffee table. He closed his eyes, waiting for the washing machine to finish.

When Eli opened his eyes, Fiona was sitting beside him at his hip, wrapped in sheets. It was the most perfect morning after look he’d ever seen. Sadly, it was nothing more than the morning after she’d slept in one of his guest rooms alone, and he’d stolen her clothes to wash for her. Not nearly as sexy as the alternative.

“It’s odd. I could have sworn I had clothes.” She tried for a small smile, and he sat up next to her.

“Fuck.” He muttered, and she mistook it as offense as he watched her face fall. “I meant to get them dry for you before you woke. I’ll toss them in the dryer now. How about I make some coffee, and you take a bath? The bathtub in the master is a Jacuzzi if you’d like to use that one.”

She nodded. “It’s been a while.”

“I assumed as much.” He stood. It was still early, dawn was only starting to break over the mountains in the distance. His house overlooked the protected land, which was a vast plane of dry and dead grass this time of year. But there was a herd of mule deer out there now, and as she stood hugging the sheet around her, she stared out the expansive wall of windows to the distant plain. She looked perfectly at home in his personal space, though he doubted she felt that way. As he watched her for a moment, the same images returned that had woken him in the middle of the night. He knew what he’d find if he pulled that sheet from her body, stripped the tank top over her head, and pulled her underwear down her legs. He could nearly imagine what she’d feel like. He knew without having ever touched her skin that it would be smooth as silk and warm. He also knew she’d pop with goose bumps at his touch. She was just nervous that way, and he wanted to feel those nerves as his fingers brushed over her skin.

But he walked away, started the coffee, switched the laundry to the dryer, and then showed her to his master bath. Her eyes looked at his bed as they walked through his bedroom. She scanned the room, taking everything in as they moved, and he suddenly felt guilty. He’d worked hard for the home he had, but while he didn’t know her story, he was guessing she’d lost everything she’d ever had, and he didn’t like that. He also didn’t like that he didn’t like
that
. He’d prefer to not think about such things, but she seemed to force her human life on him.

He set out a towel for her, started the faucet in the overlarge bathtub, grabbed some shampoo from his shower, and then found a disposable razor in his linen closet. She blushed as he held up the razor, offering it to her, and she nodded.

“I’ll bring you some coffee when it’s ready, and I’ll leave your clothes on my bed when they’re finished drying.” He watched her for a moment, and she bit her lower lip. It was sexy but not intentional. She was uneasy, and it was just her reaction, but all he could think about were her lips.

He excused himself quickly and ended up standing in his kitchen staring at the coffee machine. He liked her. He didn’t like much of anyone. Maybe he just wanted to fuck her. Either way, it wasn’t good. And at the same time…it was a bit incredible. It had been a long time since he’d wanted something this much.