Midnight Rose (completed)

Chapter 11

After I dropped Kendra off at her house, my intention was to go to Wes', but the other night on the pier, with Elijah, was still spinning in my head. I didn't even know him, so going to his house was probably one of the dumbest ideas I've ever had, but I needed to know why he felt I was in danger, especially after last night's peculiar encounter with Wes. If Elijah was going to hurt me, he had every chance on the pier. We were alone and hanging over a large body of water. Accidents happened. I shuttered at the thought of how easily something could have happened, but I was trusting my instincts and right now they were telling me Elijah wasn't a threat.

Thirty minutes later, my Jeep was bouncing on the gravel road that led to Elijah's house in Bayview. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I parked. This was crazy. I should turn around and go home. I looked around, seriously considering it, but I didn't. It didn't look like anyone was home anyway, so being brave was a little bit easier.

"It's now or never."

I took a deep breath, killed the engine, and stepped into the rain. I dashed to the front porch and peeked into the sidelights. A flicker of light danced behind the frosted glass. It could have been a fire, but it was hard to tell. I raised my hand to knock, but then dropped it. Maybe it was smarter to walk around the house first and see what I was getting myself into. I zipped up my grandpa's jacket and ducked my head to shield it from the downpour as I stomped my way through the muddy gravel to the other windows. Curtains were pulled closed, obstructing my view, but I caught a strong aroma wafting around the house, so someone was definitely home. Instead of going back to the front door to knock, I ventured around to the back of the house.

The view from the back of the house was stunning. The lake rippled under the pressure of the raindrops, the waves catching glimmers of light from lit houses.

"Can I help you?"

Hairs on my neck rose. I was scared to take a breath. I turned slowly to face Elijah. He was standing on the back patio, wearing an apron and holding a ladle. I was at a loss for words. I expected to see glaring eyes and possibly a knife in his hand. Was that—I took a deep breath. Chili?

"You can stand in the rain, or you're welcome to come in. I need to get back to the stove, though."

We all had choices, but not all of them were good. This was going down as a bad one. A very bad one, but I stepped onto the patio anyway, shaking off the water on my jacket and ringing out my hair.

"I think it's going to take a little more than that to get you dry. Come on." He moved aside for me.

Nervously, I shuffled sideways, keeping my eyes on him. His lips rose in a smug grin, followed by a chuckle as I moved past him. Once I was inside, he closed the door and headed to the stove, stirring the pot. He lifted the ladle to his lips and took a taste.

"Mmm. Perfect. Would you like to try?" He held the ladle out for me.

"No. I'm good." What in the world was going on?

His crooked smile was mischievously seductive. He put the ladle down and closed in on me. My body began to tremble, and I flinched when he slid behind me, his body close enough for strands of loose hair to shift on my shoulder.

"Let me put your jacket in the dryer," he offered softly, his voice carrying from closely behind my neck. I sucked in a deep breath as he slid off my jacket, disappearing quickly with it, giving me a moment to regain my composure. I wasn't sure if I was scared or something else entirely. Elijah still hadn't reappeared, so I strolled over to the stove to check out the chili. My stomach grumbled loudly. It had been hours since Mom's French toast.

I spun around and scanned the room.  His house was remarkable. The kitchen was gorgeous with antiqued white cabinets and traditional farm-style appliances. It was an open floor plan so the kitchen spilled into the living space, which was absent of personal touches. Aside from a portrait that hung over the fireplace, the room looked cold.