Followed me in my memory,
Enamoured me…
Your name echoes in the silent parts of my mind,
You have become my obsession,
Of which I will never tire.
― ANSA Reads
I’ve almost forgotten why I came to Middleton—I’ve been so caught up with the town and its residents—peculiar people, except for one, and that would be Andie Simpson.
She’s captivated and enchanted me and though we’ve spent the day looking at houses, I’ve actually spent most of it looking at Andie.
She’s absolutely beautiful and intriguing and despite my usual reserved nature, I’m obsessed with her.
I know this sounds like a paean of praise in honour of her but I can’t think of anyone more deserving.
I mean we spent the whole day searching for a short term rental and found nothng, so here we are back at her house enjoying the sunset from her back porch—and did I mention—drinking lemonade?
She’s truly been a garden of sensual delight and now my senses are overwhelmed with images and scents of her burnt into my mind.
If I’m honest I’d have to declare I’m super-saturated with her essence and simmply can’t absorb any more of her beauty.
“This is big sky country,” she tells me, “and when the sun sets, the sky is on fire with colour.”
I had to agree—they say the world will end with fire, and I couldn’t imagine a more spectacular funeral pyre.
“I think I exhausted you today,” she smiled at me compassionately.
“It was a Golden Day—I wouldn’t trade it for anything, including a short term rental. I’ll get a room in the local Hilton."
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” she protested adamantly, “you can stay here with me.”
It was a lovely thought, but it was a small town and people love to talk.
“Don’t worry about gossip,” she admonished, once again reading my mind, “You’re worn slap out and I don’t give a damn about what the neighbours will say.”
“I guess that settles the matter,” I smiled.
“I have a guest room that’s never been used, mainly because I’ve never wanted anyone to spend the night—but don’t let it go to your head and try to take liberties with me. I have my standards.”
“Don’t doubt that one bit,” I grinned.
“O, you’re a charmer,” she sighed, “Too bad you sold your soul to Malachi Bane—otherwise, I’d be intereested.”
My ears perked up when she mentioned the name.
“Malachi Bane is just a legend to me—I’ve never met him.”
“Really? Then how’d you wrangle a job with the Firm? it’s by invitation only.”
I shrugged. “I have no idea—Hardy Ames just chose me. Said I wasn’t button-downed like the rest and was solid and dependable.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And you have no idea what that means?”
“None,” I said, staring at her innocently.
She shook her head in mild awe. “Boy, thee is mad.”
I felt like I had bumblebees in my brain—nothing she said made any sense to me.
“Aw, shoot!” She exclaimed. “I’ll take you on a real tour tomorrow and let you see what you signed up for.”
“C’mon Darling,” she said, extending her hand, and pulled me up to eye-level with her, and suddenly kissed me.
It was warm and sweet and I didn’t want it to end, but she placed her hands on my chest to halt me. “That’s all,” she said, and softly caressed my cheek. “I may be crazy, but I believe you. I just hope I don’t regret it.”
“I’m being straight with you,” I told her.
She shook her head slowly and chuckled, “I know, Sugar Pie, and that’s what make it so damn difficult.”
She showed me to the room and I swear would have tucked me in, but she forced herself to leave me.
I was too tired to protest, and fell right to sleep with images of her illumining the darkness and the memory of her kiss replaying in my mind.