Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 10

have a pretty good instinct when it comes to people."
    "All right then. I promise I won't murder or rob you while you sleep."
    Riley grinned. "I'd appreciate that." He straightened up with a whisper of starched shirt. "I'll show you your room. I suppose Harry told you my mom used to run this place as a bed and breakfast."
    "He did."
    He walked up the broad staircase and I followed. I couldn't help but admire his well-shaped ass, accentuated by those tight-fitting jeans. The connections between my eyes and my dick awoke for the first time in months.
    "It's a big house. Do you live here alone?"
    "Yeah. My ranch hand, Jaime, lives in the old bunk house with his wife. But that's about it."
    It seemed way too big a house for one person, a supposition confirmed by the number of doors leading off the upstairs corridor. The rain and the dark wood-paneled walls added to the sad, Victorian gloom of the place. The only source of natural light came from a tall sash window at the end of the corridor. It was splattered with rain. Lightning flickered against a darkening sky.
    "Looks like this storm's going to hang around a while." Riley opened a door. "Here you go. I gave it a bit of an airing after you called."
    The window was still open. Curtains flapped in the rainy breeze. All I could hear was the steady whisper of rain and a low roll of thunder. The bed was covered in a quilt beyond which rose one of those brass bed-heads. Only the small television sitting on a big old dresser delivered the room to the present. The rest remained in another time, a pale-green candlewick bedspread, and heavy curtains the color of the pines outside.
    "Bathroom's in here." Riley opened another door and stepped aside.
    I peered past him into a decent little bathroom, complete with a deep claw-foot tub. A couple of towels rested on the curled rim. "Very nice."
    "Sorry there's no coffee maker in here or anything like that. Mom was pretty old-fashioned. There's always coffee on the stove. I get up early to work."
    "That's all right."
    Riley glanced at his watch. He looked less like a rancher without his hat. His dark brown hair was fairly short, with a hint of rebellious curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. "You hungry? I have a pot of chili on the go down in the kitchen."
    I remembered the sad, soggy tuna salad sandwich I'd stopped for in Superior. "I'm hungry."
    "Well, get yourself settled and come down when you're ready." He headed back toward the door and paused. "And don't worry about paying. I'm not really taking in guests at the moment so I'm not geared up for anything hospitable."
    "I won't argue. My bank account isn't too healthy at the moment. Thank you."
    He left me alone in the cool, grey room with the constant murmur of the rain.
    ****
    I found Riley in the kitchen. He stood at the stove stirring something in a large pot. The aroma of cumin, tomatoes and other spices drifted across the room. A basket filled with brilliant golden squares of cornbread rested at the centre of the table, along with bowls of grated cheese, scallions and sour cream.
    "Hope you're hungry." Riley reached into the fridge and handed me a beer. "There's plenty here."
    "I am." The bottle was cold in my hand. Beads of condensation trickled down the smooth glass. I took a wedge of lime from a bowl and wedged it into the top.
    He raised his drink. "Take a seat and I'll dish up."
    I sat and watched my host ladle chili into a large, deep bowl. He set it on the table in front of me.
    "Dig in. It's not too spicy…I hope." The juniper-lemon scent of his aftershave warred with the aroma rising from the dish.
    "I don't mind if it is. I've spent the last six months working in a Mexican restaurant. I'm used to spicy." My stomach rumbled in anticipation.
    He grinned and sat down with his bowl. The chair scraped across the linoleum. "You a cook?" His eyes gleamed in the soft light of the kitchen.
    "Not by choice. I just take jobs where I can find them these days." I sprinkled cheese onto the chili and added a glob of sour cream. I don't know whether it was Riley or the house, but it felt right to be there…comfortable.
    "So you're not living anywhere permanent?"
    I took a sip of beer, surprised by the whole Twenty Questions thing. I looked at him and decided I really didn't mind. I couldn't really remember the last time I was able to just sit down and talk with someone who seemed to want to listen. "I was living in LA. My…partner and I broke up after five years. I