Determined to run away from her failed marriage, Cartier Davenport, finds herself escaping failure by secluding herself in a seaside village hidden away in the rolling hills of the English countryside.
Surrounded by her books, paints, and large over...
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c a r t i e r
Crashing through the deck two nights ago has left me sore in places I didn't know even existed.
I've been on a constant concoction of Advil and Tylenol and even been praying to the God above that I won't need stitches for one of the deep gashes. Thankfully, band-aids seem to be working along with Neosporin.
My shin looks as if it went through a meat grinder so thank goodness I don't have to worry about trying to impress anyone.
The only other person here is Noah and he's kept his distance the last few days and has also been eerily quiet.
Dressed in a pair of copper-orange flutter shorts and a linen cream blouse I relax on the sofa getting close to finishing the novel.
The summer heat has yet made it's way inside, however I know tonight I'll be melting in my bed when the heat of the day seeps inside. So for now, I relish the cool air this house seems to keep like a cave and keep off my leg and continue to read.
My ears train to the sound of the backdoor opening and my eyes shoot up from the second to last page of my book.
"Ms. Davenport! I'm going out to order the thatch reeds, I need money!"
I fold the page and stand from the sofa careful to not bump my semi-sore leg then scoot around the furniture and enter the kitchen as Noah is digging through my fridge.
Oh...
My...
Jesus...
He's shirtless, why is he not wearing a shirt?
Noah throws the fridge door shut, his muscles flexed and taunt and shining with sweat and turns gracing my eyes with the most beautiful body I've ever seen.
He is long and his muscles cut. My eyes dance around everywhere from his pecks to his veined arms, to his abs, to his broad shoulders, then down to the 'V' almost in full view from his track pants hanging so, so low.
Noah's chuckle breaks the spell I'm under and I fill with embarrassment I cloak with agitation, "W-what do you need?" I turn and start picking up and moving random objects from the counter only to put them down a few inches where I got it.
He gulps down the water behind me then speaks, "Money."
Right, money.
I twist around and cross the kitchen reaching the junk drawer where my checkbook sits, "My checks are in here, you can use them, I'll sign a few so you can take them as you need. I just need a receipt-."
"Erm, bad idea. I'll come to you every time I need to order something and you can write out the check one at a time."
I close the drawer with my hip and turn to face him with my checkbook and pen in my hands, "It'll be easier for you to come in take a check, and go."
