Out of This World

Chapter 3

As Kel and I stood there in the kitchen looking at each other, still a bit shell-shocked, the back door opened, and in walked a woman.

She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, like me, and she was of average height and weight, but that was where her averageness ended.

She looked Native Alaskan and gorgeous; shiny black hair to the middle of her back, matching eyes and flawless, exotic features combined to leave me speechless, so I could only imagine what it would to do a red-blooded man.

I took a quick look at Kellan.

Yep, his mouth was agape, as if maybe he was planning on catching some flies. Any second he was going to start drooling.

Men. Poor, stupid, helpless creatures, completely led around by their penises.

“Um…hi,” the woman said, clearly surprised at the sight of us, but holding it together with a grace and elegance I could only admire, because I hadn’t been given either grace or elegance at birth.

She held a small flowerpot in her hands, and she set it in the sink. “Who are you?”

“Rachel Wood,” I said. “I-”

“Inherited. I heard.” She dismissed me fairly quickly, then eyeballed Kellan with those midnight-black eyes.

Kellan stood up a little straighter, while I rolled my eyes, because I figured his chances of scoring with this woman lay somewhere between zero and fat chance.

Marilee moved with that beautiful ease of someone who had no doubt about how good she looked at all times, grabbing a glass and heading to the refrigerator. Meanwhile, I tried to see Kel as she did. He still had that perpetually messed-up caramel hair, a good part of it stabbing into his eyes, hiding their gorgeous color from the general public. Not “artfully” mussed, but neglectfully mussed. Tall and gangly, he carried himself with no grace or ease.

Right now, for example, his shirt was wrinkled from traveling, and also a little on the shabby side, as if maybe he’d had it since the nineties. Knowing Kellan, he had. Not that he was frugal. He was the opposite, actually. He happened to be one of the most generous people I knew, giving time and money he didn’t always have to his causes, but fashion was not one of them.

Which meant he didn’t always put his best foot forward when it came to first impressions.

Still, in the manner of clueless men everywhere, he smiled at the woman, one of those inherently goofy smiles men got when they were pathetically hopeful about getting sex in the current millennium, but of course didn’t really have a chance in hell of actually getting it.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t a catch. Truthfully, I’d secretly always thought he’d make a hell of a boyfriend because he’d been raised by women and knew them inside and out in a way most guys did not. Kel would never, for instance, send a mother screaming into the night, fearful for her daughter.

The thought of Kellan being an asshole in any way made me want to smile. Nope, he didn’t have a bad bone in his mellow, easygoing body. Not a single one.

A damn shame, let me tell you.

Apparently the stunning woman in front of us didn’t go for the absentminded-professor thing any more than I ever had, because she dismissed Kel as fast as she had me, filling her glass with ice cubes, while my gaze locked on something in the still-open freezer.

Two boxes of Girl Scout Cookies. Specifically, Thin Mints.

Oh. My. God.

My absolute favorite thing on the entire planet. I’d run over my own mother for a box. Hell, I’d do unspeakable things for two boxes, and just looking at them, my mouth began to water.

Oblivious as usual, Kellan held out his hand to the woman, who shut the freezer, damn it. “Kellan McInty,” he said, adding his most charming smile.

Nada. No return smile, no sexual energy aimed at him, nothing. She did thrust her hand out, though. “Marilee. Cook and housekeeper.”

“Both? That’s a tough job,” Kellan said in sympathy, still hopeful, because he was a man, and hope sprang eternal for men.

At least, between their legs.

Poor guy. He was heading directly toward Shot Down Alley, and we all knew it. At least, the two females in the room did.

A part of me knew that I should be wishing for him to get lucky. He was currently in the middle of a long dry spell sex-wise, which had left him feeling a little down and a lot restless.

Yep, the friend in me should want him to get laid.

But oddly enough, my belly twitched at the thought. I had no idea what that meant, because I did want the best for Kellan. I really did. He deserved it. Knowing that, I even forced myself to picture it-Kellan and this woman, arms and legs entwined…mouths doing the tango…bodies writhing…

They’d look good, this exotic woman and the man who would be a most amazing lover because he was passionate, tender and eager to please-

Something in my stomach pinched now. Odd, but the thought of Kellan having wild, up-against-the-wall animal sex physically hurt.

What the hell was that about?

But I couldn’t dispel the picture of him having gotta-have-you-or-die sex, don’t-hold-back-until-you-scream sex. Only suddenly, the woman I was picturing with her head back, mouth open, panting Kel’s name was…

Me.

My face heated. Other parts of me did as well, and I had to let out a low, careful breath and remind myself that traveling made me light-headed. I really should eat something.

Like cookies.

Marilee moved to the stove, giving Kellan a quick second look-see, and I had to fight the ridiculous urge to step between the two of them to block her view.

Kellan smiled at Marilee, and I knew that smile. It held a unique combination of careful caution and checked desire, giving out the message that he’d expect little because it would be a fantasy come true if anyone actually wanted to sleep with him.

Damn it, Kel, have some pride!

“My new creation,” Marilee said, lifting the lid off a simmering pot on the stove. With a smile that seemed to dazzle and daze Kel, she offered him a taste from a wooden spoon.

Of course he leaned in, tongue practically wagging.

“It’s sauce for tonight,” Marilee murmured in a musical voice. “Assuming you brought the pasta I need from Jack.”

“That we most definitely did.” Kellan opened his mouth for Marilee to slip the spoon between his lips. Her own lips were curved in a confident little smile that said, Yeah, I know how beautiful I am, but try to concentrate on my food.

Kel’s eyes roamed over her gorgeous features, practically soaking her up, and I shook my head. Note to self: Men are easy.

Kellan swallowed the sauce. It took a second, but his eyes bugged out and he lost all the color in his skin, going from a pleasant tan to a sort of pasty white-green. A sound escaped him, the noise a half-choke, half-gag.

Marilee lifted her gaze to his, and he quickly sucked it up, even managing a smile, though definitely a weak one.

“Well?” she demanded, hand on her hip. “Good? Great? What?”

“Um,” Kellan said, more green than white now. “Delicious?” he said with a straight face that was pretty admirable, considering that the moment Marilee turned her back, he gagged again.

Men. Jeez, you wouldn’t catch a woman faking a damn thing-

Okay, so you wouldn’t catch a woman faking this, though maybe sometimes we did fake other things.

“Glad you like it,” Marilee said with a composed smile. “I’ll make sure you get extra tonight at dinner.”

“Oh. Great.” Behind her back, Kel looked at me in horror.

Like I said, men.

“Would you like to see the rest of the house?” Marilee asked.

“Please,” Kellan answered quickly, clearly terrified that if we stayed, she’d want him to taste something else. He practically shoved her out of the kitchen, following her like the puppy he really was.

I pretended to follow, but instead executed an about-face and headed straight for the freezer.

I wanted a cookie.

Ah, who was I kidding? I wanted an entire box, all to myself, right now, now, now. I opened the freezer.

Damn.

Neither box had been opened yet. Now what, Sherlock?

For a moment I stood there, wrestling with my conscience. What was the likelihood that the owner of said cookies would remember he or she hadn’t opened a box?

You are not that desperate, I told myself.

But I was. I so was.

I reached for the box, ripped it open and shoved not one, but two cookies in my mouth. Frozen. Chocolate. Mint. “Oh my God,” I moaned, and added another, just as the kitchen door opened again.

I whirled around, mouth closed tightly over the remains of the two cookies.

Kellan raised a brow. “What are you doing?”

I shook my head. Nothing. See me doing nothing?

His eyes narrowed. “What are you eating?”

I sighed. “Cookies,” I admitted around the mouthful.

He laughed. “You stole cookies? That’s pretty desperate, Rach.”

“Oh really? You want to talk about desperate, lover boy? Delicious,” I said, imitating him. “Please have sex with me, Marilee.”

He frowned. “I didn’t say that.”

“You might as well have.” I shoved one more cookie in.

“Stop,” he said.

“Easy for you to say. You’re a damn geeky bastard who doesn’t understand stress in the slightest.”

“Damn geeky bastard?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.”

He shook his head. “You can finish insulting me later. She’s waiting to show us around.”

I gave one last, fond look at the freezer.

“Rach.”

“Fine.” I followed him out of the kitchen.

Marilee was waiting to give us a tour of Hideaway, standing in the foyer rearranging wildflowers in a vase there.

On the other side of the reception room was a great room, with an air hockey table and darts and a jukebox. “Keeps people from going stir-crazy in the winter,” Marilee explained, and showed us a small library and a laundry room.

From there we went upstairs, where we viewed four guest bedrooms on the second floor, then four more bedrooms on the third floor, which was reserved for staff. Each of the rooms had been decorated rustically, in a sort of country style, with pine furniture and four-poster beds. The floors were scarred hardwood, covered with a variety of throw rugs in different shapes and sizes. The place was in decent shape, each room sporting thick bedding, which Marilee assured us we’d need in extreme weather, and pictures on the walls that provided proof of said extreme weather. I looked at one photo of the inn, with snow up past the first floor, and gulped. “Yikes.”

Marilee just smiled grimly. “It isn’t the Bahamas,” she said.

All the rooms were empty. No sign of the two faces I’d seen earlier. I looked out the window and saw a small guesthouse.

“It’s Gert’s place,” Marilee said, and took us out there. She stood on the tiny porch, long hair shiny, eyes fathomless, as she peered in. “Here you go.”

I gestured her in ahead of me, but she shook her head.

“Oh, no thanks.”

I walked in. Gert had the place stuffed to the gills with Victorian furniture and lace, lace, lace everywhere. Looking at it all, I gulped at a new thought.

Who was going to clean all this out?

Kellan followed me, and sneezed, his allergies coming to life from the weeks of dust.

Marilee still stood just outside. She hadn’t moved or said a word, and yet her anxiety was palpable.

This, in turn, brought back my goose bumps. “What?” I whispered.

“You’re going to have to deal with her things,” Marilee whispered back, and entwined her fingers until the knuckles turned white.

“Why are we whispering?” Kellan asked both of us.

Marilee just tightened her lips and looked around uneasily, as if the ghost of Great-Great-Aunt Gertrude was watching us from above.

Or from wherever she’d landed.

“Seriously, this is silly,” I said, gesturing for Marilee to come inside. “Come in.”

“Oh no. I…couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m…busy.” Marilee stayed firmly put on the threshold, and given the stubborn set to her jaw, nothing short of an apocalypse was going to budge her. If that. “Besides, Gert never invited us in.”

“Never?” I asked.

“Never.”

Wow. That seemed pretty harsh. It wasn’t as if the staff had a lot of places to go, which brought me to another question.

What did people do out here when they weren’t working?

“She’s gone,” I pointed out, purposely speaking in a regular voice, though I had to admit, I felt a little spooked. “Surely now that’s she’s gone-”

Marilee vehemently shook her head, her long, gorgeous hair flying around her face. “You’re on your own.”

“Okay.” I looked around, uneasy myself. “No problem.”

Yeah right, no problem.

Kellan ran a finger over the huge wooden snowshoes on the wall. “How did she get all this stuff up here?”

“Gertrude had a thing going with Jack’s grandfather.”

“A thing?” Kellan asked. “As in…”

“They were doing it,” Marilee said. “Right up until he kicked the bucket last year. Gertrude would order stuff from catalogs, but no one would deliver way out here. So she got Jack to bring her a piece every time he came up here. It took a while.”

Looking at the room, which was so stuffed that pieces were literally on top of each other, I could well imagine it’d taken a while. Years.

Now I had to decide what to do with it all.

Suddenly it felt so overwhelming. All of it. I had no guests, bills that had to be paid, probably a mortgage of some kind…and no revenue.

“Do you know a good Realtor?” I asked Marilee, thinking, Who am I kidding? I’d be lucky if she knew any Realtor, much less a good one. Who’d be crazy enough to come all the way out here?

More importantly, who would be crazy enough to buy Hideaway?

Marilee turned to me, her eyes no longer unreadable but now filled with shock. “You’re selling?”

“I’m just going over my options-”

“But Gertrude told us you’d never sell. That you loved her so much, you’d keep everything status quo. That’s why she left the place to you. You weren’t supposed to even think about selling.”

Um, okay. Except I hadn’t “loved” Gertrude, as Marilee thought. I hadn’t even known her. She’d never shown the slightest bit of interest at all in me or my life.

There was a six-pack of water on the coffee table, and since my throat had suddenly become parched, I grabbed one. Only I was still shaking a bit, and the bottle hadn’t been perforated correctly, so with a frustrated sound I handed it to Kellan, who had no luck opening it either.

“Look,” I said as gently as I could. “I don’t know how I can possibly afford to keep up with everything this place requires.”

“It’s not hard.”

Seriously, she had no idea. This place was so far out of my realm, not to mention that it probably required organization and planning skills, neither of which was part of my repertoire.

Plus, Gertrude and I had spoken exactly twice in my lifetime. Once had been at my high school graduation, where she’d handed me a card with five bucks in it, then demanded to know what I was going to do with my loot. The second time had been at my father’s funeral, after he’d died from a fall off a building he’d been painting.

Great-Great-Aunt Gertrude had stood by his casket at his funeral and tutted, then looked over at me. “You an artist, too?”

Unable to speak for the grief, I’d nodded.

“Well, that’s a damn waste,” she’d said.

Yeah, family closeness at its finest. Needless to say, that she’d left me the inn still had me speechless.

But now Marilee was looking at me, waiting for reassurances that I didn’t have. I dug up a small smile. “Looks like I have a lot to think about.”

Marilee seemed as if she might argue with that, but in the end, she only nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just…tired after this whole day. I need a few minutes to freshen up, rest a little bit. Do you mind?”

“No.” Ever the hostess, Marilee bowed her head briefly, expertly masking any emotions, as if she’d never had them. “Of course I don’t mind. This is your home while you’re here. You do as you please.”

Kellan looked at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Nodding, he turned to Marilee. “I’ll help you get all the supplies inside.” He sent me a look over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

Yep, with your tail dragging, I thought. Ah hell, Kel, don’t get hurt.

But of course he would, poor bastard.

“Oh.” Marilee hesitated. “It’s Friday afternoon.”

“Yeah.” I waited for more, but she just looked at me expectantly. “What about it?”

Marilee blinked. “You…don’t know?”

“I don’t know what?”

Another long, assessing gaze, but she didn’t answer.

Earth to Marilee…

“Nothing,” she finally said. “Just…be careful.”

Okaaay.

“And, uh, you should stay close,” she added.

As opposed to what-walking back to civilization? “I can do close.”

After she left, with Kellan following her-exuding that eternal hope only a man can summon-I stood there, in the doorway of Gertrude’s place, not belonging inside and definitely not belonging outside.

Belonging nowhere.

With the late-afternoon air came a cool breeze that felt crisp and refreshing against my heated skin. I could see a path that wound its way into the woods.

Stay close.

The words echoed in my head. I’d stay really close, and right on the trail, but the scenery drew me. I wanted-needed-to soak it in for a minute. Then tonight, maybe I’d spend some time drawing, to soothe my nerves.

I’d gone about twenty yards when four deer appeared, silent and watchful. They looked shaggier and darker than I’d imagined they would be. But then again, my deer experience was pretty much limited to the movie Bambi. Still, they were beautiful in an awesome sort of way, and I stood still.

So did they.

After a moment, at some invisible sign I didn’t catch, they all bounded back into the woods, vanishing as quickly as they’d appeared.

I let out a long breath, feeling…changed somehow, and kept going. It was gorgeous out here, I had to admit. Gorgeous but foreign, in another-world kind of way. There were so many trees and bushes and growth that I couldn’t see farther than a few yards in any one direction. Yet when I lifted my eyes, I was surrounded by a three hundred sixty-degree vista of jagged, granite mountain peaks that looked like something right out of a book. My artist’s soul ached, it was all so beautiful, and my fingers itched for paints.

Maybe my next mural would be of these mountains. You know, when I was back safe and sound in the city.

In less than three minutes, I was completely swallowed by the forest, and I stopped, a little unnerved by how quickly that had happened, and by how isolated I was. I couldn’t be more than a football field’s length away from the B &B.

Right?

And then I realized something: The temp had dropped. I looked up, and gasped.

The sky had changed from a stunning blue to a dark, swirling mass of black and gray. A storm was brewing, and I hadn’t even seen it coming. This storm wasn’t like anything L.A. ever saw either. I was talking a big, badass storm.

Adding to the sense of urgency was the utter and astonishing silence. It was as if even the insects had stopped breathing. And then…

Plop. A single raindrop landed on my head, making the only sound in the entire world.

And then another.

Plop.

The sudden and overwhelming urge to turn back and run like hell to the inn nearly overcame me, but one, I never run, and two, my mother always warned me about running in a storm.

“Rachel!”

I nearly collapsed in relief at the sound of Kellan’s voice. He was coming…down the path? I couldn’t see him. Why couldn’t I see him?

“Rach!”

I whipped around in a circle, but I still couldn’t see him. “I’m here!” I yelled.

“Rach?”

He’d sounded so close a moment ago, but now-now he could have been calling to me from another country. Hell, another planet.

“Rachel, where are you?”

I circled again, panic racing up my spine, blocking my throat.

Why couldn’t I see him?

“Right here! Kel? Kel, I’m right here!”

“Rachel!”

It was like he couldn’t hear me, and the hair rose on the back of my neck, the way it did every time he forced me to go see whatever the latest horror flick was at the movies.

There I’d spend the entire two hours with my face pressed into his neck, listening to him occasionally laugh softly at me, but he was still always there to comfort me.

Damn it, I wanted his neck right now!

And then I thought, to hell with the moratorium on running. It’s okay to be terrified bone-deep and to act on that terror. So I took off like a bat out of hell.

Only I didn’t get very far before I was abruptly and rudely stopped cold by the loudest, most resounding, most terrifying CRACK I’d ever heard-

And then nothing, as my world faded to black.