Chapter 18: Chapter 18
Ben stood in front of the old red brick Italianate home on Jones Street with his work tools in a bag slung over his shoulder as he admired the best-looking house on his route. “Jesus, I hope those lucky bastards moving in here love you as much as I do.”
The new residents of the old Parker house were arriving in the morning, so he had to make sure all the storm damage from last night was repaired as soon as possible. Not that he minded at all. He loved this house from the first moment he saw it a year ago.
His fingers wrapped around the cast iron handrail of the stairway, and his nose wrinkled at the cracked paint he noticed on the doorway. “How in the Sam Hill did I miss that?” He twisted the key in the lock, and it jiggled from the door. “I guess I’ll start with you.”
The first scent of the house was always the best, so when he closed the door behind him, he collapsed against it and closed his eyes. He breathed in the warm scent of apple pie that lingered in the stale air, then followed it up the stairs.
He knew a man like him didn’t belong in a mansion, but it always smelled like home to him.
Moving through the house, he pulled the sheets off the furniture and opened the windows as a burn rose up in his throat, knowing he’d never return. Wealthy people like the Parkers likely had their own staff and wouldn’t need him anymore. He did his best anyway, hoping they might keep him on if he did a good job.
He came to the room at the end of the hall, and sank onto the bed, then wrapped the apple-scented quilt around him. It was familiar and comforting and one of the few things that brought any joy at all to his miserable, empty existence. He loved this room the most of all, but it always left him feeling empty and sad when he left.
“I hope those rich assholes appreciate you the way I do.” It was pointless to torture himself like this, so he made the bed and stopped at the door to give it one last look. “Time to get to work.”
Yesterday’s storm knocked down a tree and broke out a few panes of a window, and the glazier was due to deliver the new glass sometime today. Ben was using the opportunity to spruce up the home before the owners arrived.
He sat on the porch, finishing the paint touch-up, while an uptight-looking blonde man with a disapproving smirk interrupted him. “Hello, I’m Aster, Parker’s butler. And you are, sir?”
With one eye closed to the hot Georgia sun, Ben wrinkled his nose and looked up at the man standing over him. “Ben Logan. I’m the Order’s caretaker.”
Aster offered him a tight-lipped smile, but the way his eyes traveled over Ben screamed arrogance. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Logan.”
He was used to the condescending looks and attitudes from the Order’s wealthy elite, and he laughed it off as he tapped off his paintbrush. Living amongst them for the last year, he’d learned many of their secrets and witnessed their shabby behavior. He was proud to be a man unlike them. “The windows haven’t been delivered yet. I’ll have to come back in the morning to put them in.”
The butler wiped Ben off his hands and surveyed the entryway. “Very good. The Carolinas will arrive around noon tomorrow, so please try to have that done before they arrive. Is the rest of the work finished?”
“Yeah, just the windows left.” His hand grasped the handrail as his knees lifted him with the cracks and creaks of a working man. He carried the paint can and brush to the mudroom, cleaned them up, and then stacked them on the shelf. As he walked through the kitchen, he nodded to Aster. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Without even giving him another look, the butler threw up his hand. “Take care, Mr. Logan.”
Sleep didn’t come easily for Ben. The thought of another night spent tossing and turning made him rub at the ache in his chest.
Every night, it was the same dream about a beautiful woman lying next to him, and every morning when he opened his eyes, she was gone. He felt her in his fingertips and looked for her face in every woman he passed on the street.
The sun spread through his room the next morning and bathed his face, and he reached out across the bed with his hand. “Where are you?” After he dressed, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and pushed his wavy black hair back off his face as he replayed his dream in his head. “Just once, tell me where to look, and I’ll find you. I won’t ever stop looking.”
He sniffed his tears away and blew the desperation out through his mouth. “Ugh! Stop it, Ben.” His head shook, and he hated himself for saying it already. “She’s not real.”
He wished he could go back to bed a bit longer, but his dream woman would have to wait until tonight. Before he closed his bedroom door, his eyes fell to the floor, and he spoke to the ghost behind him. “I’ll see you after work, Baby.”
Narrowing his eyes to the sun already beating down on the park, Ben stepped out onto the street and saw the movers bringing trunks into the Parker house. As the glazier struggled to take the windowpanes off the truck, Ben ran over to help him. “Let me give you a hand with that.”
Like with everything he did in that home, he took great care as he installed the windows. He measured and filed and sanded as if it belonged to him.
His eyes lost focus as Ben’s thoughts trailed off to the woman from his dreams, as they always did, and he sliced into his finger with the sharp file. He gritted his teeth as the blood dripped on the worktable. “Fuck!” While he mouthed the wound to stop the bleeding, Ben looked at the blood, and a flash of a dark-haired woman lying in a pool of it came across his vision. Each day, the images got clearer, and he closed his eyes tight and shook his head. “Stop. Don’t see it.”
After one last jiggle on the window frame to make sure it was secure, Ben’s eyes scanned the hall one more time, then slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out the door as a sleek black car pulled up to the gate. Ben slowed his pace when a tall man with dark hair appeared from the car’s far side and locked eyes with him. He could smell the familiar scent of crisp Autumn apples, and he turned his head slightly while he looked the man over.
“My God!” Thorin could tell from the look on Ben’s face and how he blinked around in front of him, he was struggling to recall who he was. He wrapped his hand around the passenger door handle and opened it, hoping that seeing her face again would make it all clear.
With his eyes still on his brother-in-law, Thorin offered his hand to Imara, and she tugged on it as she stood. “Thank you, Thorin. I’m so happy to be back home again.”
He heard Ben gasp and saw how his face drained of all color and nodded. “Yes, Sweet Girl, so am I.”
Time stopped moving as the woman from Ben’s dreams straightened out her dress. The clicks of her heels on the brick stopped after a few paces when he caught her eye. Her cherry red lips matched her cheeks as she grinned at him and leaned into Thorin’s ear. “Oh, Thorin, he’s so handsome. Is he for me?”
Thorin chuckled at Imara’s forwardness because he knew Ben’s wolf ears heard everything. “Yes, my dear. I believe he is.”
A perfect, toothy grin welcomed Ben as he shook his hand when they approached him on the walk. “Good morning, sir. I’m Thorin Parker.”
Ben nodded as he reluctantly glanced away from Imara. “Ben Logan, I’m the caretaker.” Motioning back towards the home, he licked his lips. “Was just finishing some work on the house.”
Thorin laughed out loud as Ben introduced himself, and he bit down on his lip to hold it back. He’d spent the last year tip-toeing around the truth with Imara, and he was hoping Ben wouldn’t be so stubborn. “Yes, of course, Mr. Logan. This beautiful woman beside me is my sister. Imara, say hello to the gentleman.”
As soon as their fingers met, a shiver rushed through Ben’s body, and it was like Thorin wasn’t even standing there anymore watching them as he brought her hand to his lips. “Imara. That’s a beautiful name. I knew it would be”
“Thank you.” While he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, Imara inched a little closer. “My pleasure to meet you, Ben.” Even if she wouldn’t let the memories of her past into her mind, she couldn’t forget the feeling of Ben’s hands on her body. Every cell called out for her mate.
A hand pressed into her back as Thorin nudged her towards the front door. “Imara, my dear, why don’t you go settle in. Perhaps I could convince Ben here to help me with the bags.”
Rubbing her scent across his mouth to catch one more breath of her, Ben nodded. He’d do any measly task asked of him if he meant he could stay a little longer. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”
While he followed Thorin down the walk, Ben glanced back over his shoulder and found her still standing there watching him, and he nearly fell over the fence when he ran into it. “Dammit!”
A snorty laugh came from Thorin as he slapped Ben’s back and tipped his head to the car. “Come on, Loverboy. You can stare at her later. I don’t want to carry all this inside by myself.”
He jingled the keys in his hand for a moment before he shoved one in the trunk’s lock. Ben waited for him to open it, and when he hesitated, their eyes met again. “You don’t remember anything either, do you?”