“Is there any room for me in there?”
“Eramus Creed,” he said, extending his hand in greeting.
I could feel the strength in the hand that gripped mine and led me two steps into his yard. The hole had been filled and he was planting roses.
“Eramus,” I repeated. “I’ve never heard that name before.”
“It was my grandfather’s name.”
“That’s nice.”
He hooked one thumb in the waist of his pants, causing them to tug down only slightly. Just enough to reveal a bit more of his well-sculpted hipbone. I rubbed a hand against my lips absently to check for drool.
“How about you, Lucy, were you named after anyone?”
“Yes. I was named after the Bram Stoker character. You know, the one Dracula kills almost as soon as he arrives in London.”
We both laughed, only his sounded natural and mine sounded nervous. His voice was a nice warm baritone that practically vibrated along my spine. Involuntarily I took a step toward him.
“I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself sooner, but you seemed very busy.”
“Yes, I hope I haven’t appeared rude. It’s a storm shelter,” he said, indicating the gigantic patch of ground that was only visible because of the fresh sod.
“Really? Well, that’s a relief. I thought you had a lot of bodies to hide.” Shit. Now my laughter was really nervous. Way to break the ice. Why don’t I go ahead and ask if he’s crazy?
But Eramus laughed at my bad joke like he thought it was really funny.
“I enjoy a sense of humor,” he said. “And since you appear to have one, maybe you’ll like my garden.”
At this I laughed too. “Why, what’s wrong with your garden?”
He indicated the roses behind him and I took a closer look. Some were propped against the fence looking hopeless. Others were larger and more healthy. Judging by their tags, there were all sorts of varieties, climbers, ground cover, bush roses, you name it.
“Looks like you’ve got quite a variety.”
“And I have no clue how to take care of them or where exactly they should go.”
I loved to garden, so I was distracted from his gorgeous body long enough to consider the layout of his yard.
“What are you trying to do?”
“I’d like to make a rose garden over the shelter. You see, I don’t want it to look like an obvious place for a shelter.” He laughed and this time he sounded a bit nervous. “I know that sounds like I’m crazy. My last home was destroyed by storms and I lost some valuables. I’d like a place to store something besides myself in the event of a hurricane and I’d like for it to be safe.”
That made sense and helped to put me at ease.
“Then why tell me?”
His smile was going to give me a heart attack. “Because you already knew it was here. Besides, this place could use a woman’s touch.” The look in his eyes gave away something, I was sure of it. Although I wasn’t quite sure what it gave away. “That is if I’m not imposing. I saw you coming out of your shop the other day and figured out you were a decorator. If this place is ever going to look decent, I’m afraid I’ll need some help.” When I didn’t immediately respond he asked, “Are you up for it?”
“Sure.”
“And you’re positive that your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
That sounded desperate. I could have kicked myself.
Eramus raised a brow. “Then who was the man I saw leaving your house this morning?” He immediately corrected himself. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“It’s all right. That was my friend Ozzy. We’re close, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Good. Then if you have no objections, could you help me decide where the hell to put these roses?”
After about thirty minutes I had it all laid out. Roses would ring the large square above his shelter. Shorter shrub roses were near the middle with climbers along the sides, which I informed him would need trellises. Most of the roses were already two or more years
“Eramus Creed,” he said, extending his hand in greeting.
I could feel the strength in the hand that gripped mine and led me two steps into his yard. The hole had been filled and he was planting roses.
“Eramus,” I repeated. “I’ve never heard that name before.”
“It was my grandfather’s name.”
“That’s nice.”
He hooked one thumb in the waist of his pants, causing them to tug down only slightly. Just enough to reveal a bit more of his well-sculpted hipbone. I rubbed a hand against my lips absently to check for drool.
“How about you, Lucy, were you named after anyone?”
“Yes. I was named after the Bram Stoker character. You know, the one Dracula kills almost as soon as he arrives in London.”
We both laughed, only his sounded natural and mine sounded nervous. His voice was a nice warm baritone that practically vibrated along my spine. Involuntarily I took a step toward him.
“I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself sooner, but you seemed very busy.”
“Yes, I hope I haven’t appeared rude. It’s a storm shelter,” he said, indicating the gigantic patch of ground that was only visible because of the fresh sod.
“Really? Well, that’s a relief. I thought you had a lot of bodies to hide.” Shit. Now my laughter was really nervous. Way to break the ice. Why don’t I go ahead and ask if he’s crazy?
But Eramus laughed at my bad joke like he thought it was really funny.
“I enjoy a sense of humor,” he said. “And since you appear to have one, maybe you’ll like my garden.”
At this I laughed too. “Why, what’s wrong with your garden?”
He indicated the roses behind him and I took a closer look. Some were propped against the fence looking hopeless. Others were larger and more healthy. Judging by their tags, there were all sorts of varieties, climbers, ground cover, bush roses, you name it.
“Looks like you’ve got quite a variety.”
“And I have no clue how to take care of them or where exactly they should go.”
I loved to garden, so I was distracted from his gorgeous body long enough to consider the layout of his yard.
“What are you trying to do?”
“I’d like to make a rose garden over the shelter. You see, I don’t want it to look like an obvious place for a shelter.” He laughed and this time he sounded a bit nervous. “I know that sounds like I’m crazy. My last home was destroyed by storms and I lost some valuables. I’d like a place to store something besides myself in the event of a hurricane and I’d like for it to be safe.”
That made sense and helped to put me at ease.
“Then why tell me?”
His smile was going to give me a heart attack. “Because you already knew it was here. Besides, this place could use a woman’s touch.” The look in his eyes gave away something, I was sure of it. Although I wasn’t quite sure what it gave away. “That is if I’m not imposing. I saw you coming out of your shop the other day and figured out you were a decorator. If this place is ever going to look decent, I’m afraid I’ll need some help.” When I didn’t immediately respond he asked, “Are you up for it?”
“Sure.”
“And you’re positive that your boyfriend won’t mind?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
That sounded desperate. I could have kicked myself.
Eramus raised a brow. “Then who was the man I saw leaving your house this morning?” He immediately corrected himself. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“It’s all right. That was my friend Ozzy. We’re close, but he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Good. Then if you have no objections, could you help me decide where the hell to put these roses?”
After about thirty minutes I had it all laid out. Roses would ring the large square above his shelter. Shorter shrub roses were near the middle with climbers along the sides, which I informed him would need trellises. Most of the roses were already two or more years
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