Chapter 18

Ophelia watched him go, feeling more embarrassed by what happened with her father than ever before.  She'd seen the hurt on Ian's face when her dad said those things to him, and she had an almost uncontrollable urge to slap her father's presumptuous mouth.  Bart Masters had a lot of nerve, coming all the way down here to tell her who she could date.  For that alone, she'd been tempted to throw herself around Ian in her office and kiss the breath out of him.  Almost, mind you.

As Ian and Joey entered the coffee shop, her eyes roved over to the front windows, and she saw Mira with her nose pressed to the glass.  But the young girl wasn't looking at her.  She was gazing intently up to the second floor of the bookstore.  Ophelia frowned and stepped into the gutter to look up at Noah's apartment.  What was that idiot doing now?

What she didn't expect was her cousin to be standing in front of the large plate glass windows of his home, butt naked and drying his body off with a white towel, as though he just emerged from the shower.  Ophelia glanced back at Mira, who noticed her staring at her, jumped, and inched away into the shadows of the coffee shop.

Thoroughly confused, Ophelia studied her cousin again, now dressing a clean pair of jeans that he left unsnapped, and her head whipped back to the shop across the street.  Oh, my Lord!  Mira's been ogling her cousin, and he's been showering and putting on a show for her.  How long had this been going on?  Her mind raced back to the time she noticed Noah's change in appearance.  It happened right after Ian and Mira first bombarded on the bookstore.

Ophelia smiled and went inside the store.  How stupid could two people be?  Noah couldn't get up the nerve to approach Mira, and the blonde was obviously interested in what she'd been seeing.  Even though they'd never met officially, they plainly liked each other.  Maybe she could do something about that.  At least, if Noah was dating someone, he'd stop bothering her...and maybe Mira would quit the pestering as well.

***** 

When Mira barged into the bookstore the next morning, Ophelia was ready for her.  She smiled pleasantly at the girl, who stopped in her tracks and frowned.  “What?  You're looking at me like I did something wrong.”

“Oh, I'm just fine, Mira.  How's work?  Washing a lot of windows lately?”

The lightly tanned skin on Mira's cheeks suddenly turned rosy pink.  “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes.  “Okay, here's my conditions.  You leave me alone about your uncle, and I won't say a word about your new bird watching hobby.”

Mira licked her lips.  Her eyes traveled upward to scan the ceiling and the direction of Noah's apartment, and she sighed.  “Fine.  I'll not encourage you to go on another date with Uncle Ian, but you know that's not going to stop him.”

“I'll deal with Uncle Ian,” Ophelia said.  “Now, about my cousin...do you want to meet him, or would you rather continue this game the two of you are playing?”

“Game?”

The look on Mira's face was priceless.  She really had no idea.  “Do you honestly believe he likes taking ten showers a day?”

Mira's eyes widened as she finally understood...then her cheeks reddened to the point of spontaneous combustion.  “Uh...he knows?”

“I'm sure of it,” Ophelia said, stacking a load of books to the side of the counter.  “Noah's never been prone to personal hygiene until you came along.”

“His name is Noah?”

Ophelia peeked at her.  “Yes.  Is there something wrong with the name Noah?”

Mira smiled a little.  “No...it kind of suits him actually.”  Then she grinned and sauntered forward.  “He's known all along?  What did he say about me?”

Good grief.  This was like high school all over again.  “Ask him yourself,” she said.  “He's standing right behind you.”

If the shock on Mira's face was anything to judge on, Noah's expression centered on plain astonishment.  He entered through the back storeroom about the time Mira commented on his name.  Both of them stared at one another with pure embarrassment and red faces.  Tandy rushed through the door in a yellow sequined top and black tights hugging his/her square hips. 

“Sorry, I'm late,” her employee said, not noticing the other two people in the room.  Tandy brushed by Noah on the way to the back, and still they blinked at each other when he/she returned.  “So, what's up?”

Ophelia checked her watch.  She planned to go see Ian today about his modeling proposition, and now seemed like the perfect time.  “I have a meeting to go to,” she answered.  “Watch the shop for a while, and just...don't bother those two.”  She nodded toward Noah and Mira, and then shook her head at her newly acquired, very life-like statues standing on opposites ends of the room from each other.

“What are they doing?” Tandy whispered.

Ophelia chuckled.  “Getting to know one another.”

“Hmm,” Tandy replied.  “Doesn't that usually require speaking?”

Ophelia laughed again as she grabbed her purse.  “Not with these two.  I'll be back in about an hour.”

“Yeah, sure.  Will I need to feed them or anything?”

She didn't answer that.  Outside in the morning sunlight, she smiled broadly and walked briskly to the metered parking lot where she kept her car while she worked.  Just as she reached the corner, a familiar bark sounded next to her.  This time when she smiled, she closed her eyes and hung her head with amazement.

“You really do have a sixth sense, don't you?” she asked Ian.

“So, you were thinking about me,” he replied, grinning at her.  “Joey thought I was crazy.”

“You are crazy,” she teased him, not knowing why she was in such a good mood today.  After her father's visit yesterday and seeing how Noah and Mira circled each other through window glass, she should be contrary to a good mood.  But she wasn't.

After going home last night, Tiki showed up for her nightly visit, and Ophelia related all that happened that day.  Her friend grew disgusted when she told her about her father's visit, intrigued about Noah and Mira, and not-so-oddly upset about Ian's proposal.  “You wouldn't even let me paint you,” she complained.  “Now, you're considering modeling for him?”

“Imitation is the highest form of flattery,” Ophelia commented vaguely, getting a little giddy at the prospect of becoming memorialized in wood.  No other man that she'd ever met asked to carve her likeness into anything...not even their hearts.  Ophelia felt worshiped.  That had never happened before.

“I suppose so,” Tiki resigned.  “Are you going to do it?”

“I don't know.  Should I?”

Tiki pursed her lips.  “He'll want to put his hands on you.”

Feeling happier than she had all day, Ophelia laughed.  “He's been wanting to do that anyway.  At least, this way I get paid for it.”

Tiki rolled her eyes and grinned.  “When did you turn into a whore?”

The rest of the night proceeded with a bottle of wine for her, a beer for Tiki, and a marathon of Monty Python re-runs.  So, this morning, she woke with a splitting headache and a smile on her lips.  She turned to the sexy, charming man next to her and grinned.

“What brings you out this way?  Stalking me again?”

His lips twitched.  “I was taking Joey out for his morning walk, hoping to bug Mira into a free cup of coffee and some breakfast, and then maybe convince you to accompany me to the park.  No stalking, I promise.”

“Of course not,” she said.  “Unfortunately, your niece is otherwise occupied, but since I was coming to see you, we can take that walk in the park.”

“I'd like that very much,” he said, shifting to cross the street with her.  On the other side, he asked, “And what is my niece doing that's so important?  Or did you stuff her in a cardboard box?”

Ophelia laughed.  “No.  And I promised not to speak of it ever again, so you'll have to ask her yourself.”

Entering the small park by the river, Ian let Joey off his harness and he offered his arm to her.  “Care to escort me to the nearest bench?”

She enjoyed his good-naturedness today.  “Not playing on my heartstrings, are you?  I know perfectly well you can navigate most places on your own.”

“But where's the fun in that?”

“I'm sure you find ways to amuse yourself,” she murmured, but she looped her hand around his elbow and guided him to a park bench underneath a stand of pine trees.  They settled down on the wooden seat, and Ophelia felt content.  This was the kind of day she dreamed of...sharing the beautiful spring morning with a devoted, handsome man beside her.  If only she were open to dating him...

“So, what did you want to see me about?  Have you decided to let me idolize you?”

Ophelia shifted on the bench to study him.  Gracious, she could never get over how good-looking he was.  She barely noticed his handicap anymore.  He seemed to see everything, regardless of that physical deficient.  In such a short time, he'd become a friend to her.  A single-minded friend, but nonetheless.  How he stood calmly in front of her father yesterday still hadn't ceased to amaze her.  Steve would have been shaking in his shoes.

“I have a few terms concerning that,” she said. 

He smiled and said, “I didn't expect anything less.  What's on your mind, Ophelia?”

But before she could stake her conditions, another thought popped into her head.  “Why do you always call me Ophelia?  Most everybody I know calls me Phe-phe, or just Phe?”

He tilted his head down to her.  “I honestly didn't think you wanted me to call you by your nickname.  Was I wrong?”

“No, no,” she said hastily.  “Actually, I never notice what people call me, but with you, it's like you're afraid I might get upset about it.”

“I'll call you anything you wish,” he replied in a husky timbre.  “But I do like Ophelia.  It rolls off the tongue...sweet, beautiful, precious...kind of like you are.  And if you'd ever let me kiss you, I'd show you how magical your name feels on my tongue.”

Ophelia gulped.  He really knew how to sweet-talk a woman, didn't he?  “I don't think that's necessary,” she moaned.  He sighed, shrugged and said, “Too bad.  You might enjoy it.  I know I would.”

“Are you always such a gentleman?”

“I try to be.  Now, about those terms...”

“Uh...right, the terms.  That's kind of one of them,” she said.  “If I do this, I don't want you to hound me every second to go out with you...or kiss you...or anything else beyond the lines of normal friendship.”

Ian nodded instantly.  “Fine by me, but I make no such concessions once the work clock stops ticking.  I want you, Ophelia, and I'll never stop trying to get you.”

She stared at him.  “Why exactly do you want me so much?  I'm not that interesting.”

“I see you differently.”

“You can't see me at all,” she pointed out, and immediately wished she bit her tongue at her insensitivity.  But Ian only smirked and said, “You're starting to sound like Mira.  Now, you're second condition?”

“Well...that's kind of all of it,” she admitted.  “I wanted this to be a business agreement only, but now I see that you'll still be persistent outside of the agreement, so...”

“Ah, since I refuse to give up on how wonderful I think the two of us will be, you're not going to do it?  Is that it?  I kind of thought you had more moxie in your spine, Ophelia.”

And just like that, her good mood evaporated.  “I have plenty of moxie,” she declared.  “I'll agree to your terms, and I'll let you put your hands all over me--”  He grinned at that.  “-- but don't for one instant think this changes the way I feel about you.”

“And how do you feel about me, Ophelia?”  His throaty question surely intended to garner a heated response out of her.  Well, he succeeded.   She had a mind to tell him exactly how she felt about him, but half of it would be a downright lie, and she never liked being rude for any reason.  So, she settled for huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“When do you need me?” she asked with irritation.  Ian grinned.  “All the damn time,” he replied, then added, “but for my sculptures?  How about we get started this evening when you close the store?  Say seven o'clock?”

“Fine.”  She stood up.  “I'll see you at your studio then.  I take it you can find your way back?”

“Like you said, I'm more than capable,” he replied, and she stomped away.