Szot, JC - The South Window (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Read Free Page B

can eat this anytime—breakfast, dessert.” He turned to Allie. “Right? Who cares?” He shrugged.
    Marty brought everything to the rectangular oak table. The back of his hair was still damp, a water spot visible on the back of his white muscle tee.
    His eyes looked darker than they had through the binoculars, now a rich, cocoa brown.
    “Sit, Allie, please.” He waved her to the table.
    Allie sat while he poured their coffee. He returned the pot to the warmer then turned on a small overhead light above his stove. Marty sliced two thick slabs of the cake, handing Allie hers.
    “So, um, I guess your guy’s off again on business, huh?” He stirred his coffee, glancing up at her intermittently.
    “Yeah, he had to go to Chicago.” Allie stared out the bay window, noticing his workshop out back. “So what are you planning on doing with all that wood?” Allie pointed out back, attempting to keep the conversation moving, not wanting to elaborate on Dan’s high-powered schedule.
    “Well, I’m hoping to finish my chest of drawers. I’ve been working on it for almost a year. It’s just about done. I only need a few more pieces.” He looked at her over the rim of his mug, sipping his coffee.
    “So… you build your own furniture?” Allie’s eyes returned to his.
    “Yeah, it’s a hobby of sorts.” Marty leaned on the table.
    Allie chuckled, hearing that word again, and twice in one day.
    “I’ve sold a few pieces, but I can’t build on demand, you know.” He laughed. “Whenever someone asks for something in particular, I clam up, sort of like a writer’s block, I guess.”
    His smile revealed two front teeth that had a slight gap in them. His face was seasonally creased due to years of hard work, but strikingly handsome.
    “Dan mentioned that you’re an artist. What’s your specialty?” Marty cut himself another piece of cake.
    “I do greeting cards for a company in Missouri.”
    “Wow, interesting.”
    The room grew quiet for a moment. Allie glanced into the living room, a ceiling fan was spinning. Two brass sconces glowed on either side of Tess’s front door, her house amply seen through Marty’s living room window.
    “So your friend asked me over to her place for dinner tomorrow. Will you be there?” His brows lifted in question.
    “Oh, no.” Allie laughed, thinking of how Tess would love the idea of her tagging along to dinner.
    “Any heads-up you can give me on that front?” Marty laughed, shaking his head.
    Allie knew he was fishing. She wondered if Marty was laughing directly at Tess or just laughing, a restless nervousness maybe. Tess could be intimidating.
    “Oh, not really.” Allie didn’t want to say anything wrong, so she chose to play it safe. “She’s divorced, I think. I don’t know.” She waved her hand dismissingly. “It’s been pending for so long.”
    “Allie, you ever work with furniture, like stenciling or antiquing?” Marty pushed his mug away.
    “I’ve stenciled, but only on Sheetrock, not wood. Why?”
    “I have a bench that I wanted to paint vines on for the front porch. Would you look at it for me?” Marty raked his hands through his hair. “I can’t see myself doing that kind of painting, even with an instructional kit. You mind?”
    “No, not at all.”
    Allie now felt that she had something to contribute to the life of her new neighbor. Marty pushed his chair back.
    “Let’s get more coffee and go out to the workshop so you can take a look.”
    “Great.” Allie stood, waiting for Marty to top off their mugs. She followed him out the back door. They stepped over the large, flat stones that lined a path out back to his workshop.
    Marty had a frayed tear in the back of his jeans. With every stride Allie could see his white boxer briefs. He stepped gingerly over the stones in his bare feet then slipped on a pair of old sneakers that were outside near the door. He pulled a chain that hung from the ceiling. A blinding, white light flooded the