And poor Debbie. Good thing that child molesting asshole was already dead or he’d kill him. He actually wished that he was alive so that he could torture the bastard and THEN kill him. Beast popped his neck and several prisoners were unsure of what to make of the giant, scarred, guard that smirked one minute and scowled the next. One thing was for certain; the sight of him alone assured that none of them would be stepping out of line.
That night Christopher stopped at the grocers. He could take Ashleigh out…but why do that when he could have her all to himself if he cooked dinner for her? He picked out the things he wanted to make and then he went home and dusted although he was fairly neat due to his military training.
That night when he got on the treadmill, it wasn’t the mountains that he saw but the sway of Ashleigh’s hips when she walked and the smile that she easily flashed. God, he knew he had it bad for her. He had it so bad that he even contemplated leaving the subbasement just to say hi to her when she lingered in the cafeteria or went for a break. He was the cool guy, right? Well if he was so cool then why didn’t he feel like it?
Ashleigh spent her evening shopping for new underwear that wouldn’t fall down around her ankles. And then she wondered what Christopher would think of white lace, or did he prefer black translucent nylon? She couldn’t believe that she was thinking like this about her friend!
But then again she could. She remembered being cradled in his arms half in and out of consciousness and some man had called him Beast. He’d said Beast take care of her, or something in that vein.
Ashleigh stared grimly into space. Once upon a time she only cared about how someone looked, how good she looked, how good they looked together. Ashleigh knew the truth; when it’s all said and done it wasn’t Christopher that was the Beast, it was her.
He was just a beautiful man waiting for someone to see past his outer wrapping.
~***~
The plan was for Ashleigh to meet Christopher at his place Saturday evening. He wanted time to make a good dinner and not to just whip something up after work so he opted for Saturday. He wouldn’t tell Ashleigh what was on the menu and reminded her that she was the one that had said she liked ALL food.
“Well if you can cook the way that you can whip up a smoothie than I’m not worried.”
He had just given her a mysterious smile. “I do fair to middlin’ in the kitchen.”
Her brow quirked up in humor. “Um…I don’t know what middlin’ means. Is that another country phrase like, ‘I’m fixin to’, or ‘over yonder’?” She hid a grin.
“Oh pardon me. I forgot I was talking to a city girl,” he said while watching the stop watch. “Time.” And they began their next set; jumping jacks. It was the set he most looked forward to, and anguished over. The way her body parts moved beneath her clothing as she jumped caused him to worry about her seeing certain of his body parts becoming ‘happy.’
But then he began thinking about the camera and how many of the guys were becoming ‘happy’ as they watched her ample breasts and rear-end bouncing up and down. She was definitely losing weight, but her ass was not going anywhere, and that thought made him want to smash the camera. He would have to tell her about the camera. Once, when he’d turned his back he’d caught her briefly adjusting her bra and he almost lost it at the idea of someone else perving her while she was doing that.
After he called time and they waited the thirty seconds for the next set he decided to casually mention the camera.
“Hey, did you know that there is a camera in here?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t so casual.
Her face took on a surprised look. “What? Where?” She looked around.
Christopher gestured to the ceiling and she saw the little black ball no bigger than a golf ball nestled into the ceiling tiles. “They’re all over…and some you can’t even see.” He decided that he would not tell her that the only reason he had mentioned it was in case she wanted to put her boob back into her bra after jumping jacks when she thought no one was watching. Somehow he thought that might freak her out.
“Christopher! There aren’t cameras in the lockers are there?!”
“Time.” He said and paused in the workout since it didn’t appear that she was interested in them at this moment. “No, there are no cameras in lockers or restrooms, that’s prohibited actually.”
She searched his eyes. “Promise?”
A brief look of surprise crossed his face. “Of course.” As if he would allow someone to watch her in the bathroom and locker room!
She seemed satisfied. He didn’t mention that pretty much everything else was open to them including the outside circumference of the two federal buildings. The private offices did not have security cameras; like Ashleigh’s, but the SSA and TAC offices had them. She did not look very happy as she glanced at the camera.
“Don’t worry,” he said after they resumed the set. “There’s…probably no one even watching. I mean…it’s a security camera and they know I’m down here so no need to watch.” He was surprised that he was even able to say that lie so convincingly. But he didn’t like seeing her anxious about it.
“That’s true,” she responded, relaxing again.
~***~
Saturday seemed to take forever to come. Ashleigh always dressed very upscale for work and so this time chose to dress casually for her date. Date. She beamed. What was it about Christopher that made her feel so happy? Well for starters she felt very attracted to him. He was so gentle and soft spoken and yet there was something powerful about him. She felt safe with him. She somehow knew that he would always have her back. But in regards to the attraction; she’d never met anyone so perfectly put together.
She slipped on jeans that hugged her butt. Next was a polo shirt and she liked the way it made her look like she had a waistline…wait, she DID have a waistline now! Ashleigh giggled and checked her hair and makeup, and then she hurried to Christopher’s house.
She knew the area that he lived but used her GPS to find his house. She pulled into the driveway of a single story ranch style house. It was very well maintained; the lawn was completely weed-free and perfectly green. His shrubs didn’t have a leaf out of place. He even had a neat flower bed with huge hydrangeas and Ashleigh tried to picture him on his hands and knees planting and weeding. It was just too weird imagining him out of the subbasement.
She rang the bell and not five seconds later the door opened. Her eyes drank him in as his swept over her. He wore jeans and a USMC shirt that showcased his huge arms. One thing she appreciated about Christopher is that while he was tall and well muscled, he wasn’t some ‘roided-out’ looking monstrosity.
“Hi Ashleigh.” His broad smile almost made her melt.
“Hi.” He stepped aside and let her in. She inhaled deeply in appreciation.
“Oh my god. Something smells great.”
“Ah…yes, we’ll get to that in a moment. You didn’t have any problems finding my house did you?”
“Nope. Garmin Nuvi got me here safely and soundly,” She said referring to her GPS device. She looked around in amazement. He did not live in some bachelor’s pad. Christopher’s house was warm and welcoming. Music that she didn’t recognize played softly over the stereo. He had hardwood floors with a huge area rug that made her want to kick off her shoes and sink her toes into it. An orange tabby walked over to her and when she bent down to pat it it darted away.
“She’s shy,” he explained. “I’ll show you around.” He led her from one well decorated room to the next. He showed her a bathroom that was huge and had the biggest tub she’d ever seen.
“I had to special order that.” He said. She looked up at the ceiling. There was a skylight. “I put that in.” He said.
She looked at him, impressed. “You did that? That’s really nice looking.”
“Thanks, but it was easy. It came in a kit.” Still, she could barely change her own light bulbs. Lord forbid if a fuse tripped or a pilot light went out. Then she’d be screaming for DeA
ngelo. Well, she’d have to learn to be more self sufficient. Maybe Christopher would show her some home improvement tricks.
He led her back into the hall and pointed out a room that had been converted into a gym. There were free weights, treadmill, mats and a 42 inch wall mounted flat panel television.
“Nice.”
The next room was his bedroom. There was a King sized bed which didn’t surprise her, but the pretty decorations did; matching comforter and curtains, artsy portraits on the wall, and nice, huge furniture with simple lines and uncluttered surfaces.
“Are you an interior designer in your spare time?” She asked, only half joking.
He smiled and shook his head. “No…I just have a lot of spare time on my hands. You should see this place at Christmas.” He actually planned out how the tree would be decorated months in advance. Every year he did something different; either purple and gold, red and silver and once he did nothing but white. He also loved putting out lights and carving pumpkins at Halloween. He always had plenty of visitors during the holidays with his big family but…it wasn’t the same as having his own.
Last was the kitchen. Ashleigh gasped. “Christopher…” She took in everything from the metal finish on the appliances, to the granite counters and dark wood cabinets. He even had a six burner, gas stove with a grill!
There was a kitchen eating nook beside a wonderful bay window…and she just wanted to stay forever! She looked out the window into a large wooded back yard with a deck and simple but nice furniture.
“You have a great house. I really love it.” Her condo was pretty but it was also staged. Her place wasn’t meant to make people feel warm and fuzzy but to impress. She had expensive white furniture that had to be cleaned professionally twice a year because wearing certain colors could easily mar the fabric. There was lots of glass and silver…and coldness.
“I’m happy. I want you to be comfortable.” A shiver ran up her spine and she smiled shyly. He watched her for a moment and then led her into the kitchen.
“So. Are we ready to eat?”
“Yes!” Was her enthusiastic response. And she was pretty sure that she had guessed what he had cooked. It smelled like…Thanksgiving dinner.
He opened the oven and closed it back. “The cornbread needs a few more minutes.” He lifted the aluminum foil that covered a Dutch oven and she saw 4 perfectly roasted Cornish hens.
“Four?”
He smirked. “I figured you’d eat one, right?” She nodded. “And I’ll eat three.”
She gave him a surprised look. Oh, yeah he was HUGE.
“Wild rice stuffing.”
“Yum.”
“Baked sweet potatoes.” He lifted the lid from a simmering pot and she saw collard greens. Her brow went up.
“You know how to cook collard greens?”
“Yep.” He picked up a slotted spoon and stirred them. “I know how to grow ‘em, pick ‘em, clean ‘em, cook ‘em…” He winked at her, “and eat ‘em. Remember, I grew up in the country.” She wasn’t likely to forget with that sexy accent of his.
“Soul food is no different than country food,” she said.
“I don’t know if I agree with that.”
“Really?”
“Unless you eat muskrat and raccoon.”
“Uh…can’t say that I have, you have?”
“Yep, ate it often when I was a kid; muskrat with gravy and rice. It was good. Raccoon…eh…you had to boil the hell out of it and get every bit of fat and glands off of it. More trouble than it’s worth and it still had a…funky taste. Not too bad with beans, though.” He went to the fridge as she listened aptly. And then she found herself checking out his butt in his jeans. Running the treadmill everyday sure made for a fine ass…
“What would you like to drink? I got diet soda.” He’d picked it up with her diabetes in mind. “Unsweetened tea.” Though he preferred his sweetened. “Beer, and bottled water.”
“Bottled water.” He grabbed two and a stick of butter. He picked up a potholder and then pulled a black skillet from the oven. Golden brown cornbread sent an unbelievable aroma through the air.
“My Mama uses an iron skillet to make cornbread, too!” She said.
“This is the only way to do it, Sweetheart.” He liberally buttered the top of the cornbread. She hid a grin when he said Sweetheart. She liked hearing it coming from him, it gave her the warm and fuzzies.
“I’m hungry, Christopher.” She said while staring at the cornbread.
He reached into a cabinet for plates and passed her one. “Dig in.” He didn’t have to tell her twice. His plate was piled high with food so she didn’t feel bad about placing an entire Cornish hen on her plate with loads of greens and a butter and brown sugar topped sweet potato. Christopher sliced the cornbread and heaped it onto a separate plate and placed it on the table along with hot sauce, salt and pepper. Ashleigh grinned at the sight of the table. Damn, he ate like her family.
They didn’t talk, they just ate. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. She wanted to kick off her shoes and tuck her foot under her.
“You make greens better than me.” She admitted, her cheek bulging with food as she carefully spoke. “And that’s not Jiffy cornbread mix.”
“Jiffy is good for desert with some butter and jam, but when its dinnertime there ain’t nothing like white cornmeal cornbread.”
After dinner he quickly put away the food while she watched him. He had warned her not to expect desert and she said that she didn’t have room for another bite.
“Thanks for dinner.” She said shyly. “You are a really good cook.”
“I like to eat and if I wanted to eat good I had to learn to cook. Good food to me is food I grew up on. Can’t get that from McDonald’s.” His low country voice did something to her. She just loved the sound of it.
“Can I help you with dishes?”
“Nah, I’ll load up the dishwasher in the morning.” He led her into the living room. “What do you want to do? Watch TV, listen to music…I can play some guitar for you.”
“I’ve been wanting to hear you play!” She sat down on the couch and he moved to the stereo and turned off the music. A guitar was tucked almost behind the entertainment center and she hadn’t seen it before. He sat down next to her.
“What do you want me to play?”
“You’re good enough to take requests?”
“I don’t normally take requests.” Each week he selected two songs to play at the Madd Crab each Friday and if someone really wanted to hear something special he’d do a third.
He strummed, nothing in particular but it still sounded really good. She tried to think of a song, but wasn’t sure of his ability.
“Did you play as a kid?” He nodded. “I bet it made you super popular.”
“Nobody heard me play but family. And I was not super popular. I was like that creepy kid in the movies. Remember that movie called My Bodyguard?”
She nodded. “I know every eighties movie ever made—well at least the ones with a teen cast.”
He gave her a half smile. “I was like the big kid that everybody avoided and was afraid to talk to. Only thing is that he wasn’t really all that scary in the end.” A brief frown passed his face before he chuckled. “I would have much rather been a character in a John Hughes film. At least the underdog always got the girl.”
Her heart leaped in her chest as her eyes grew big. “Ducky didn’t get the girl.”
“He did in the way that John Hughes had meant for it to be made. In actuality Molly Ringwald pushed him to change the ending because she said that no one wanted to see Claire and Ducky get together. She said that everyone would want to see Claire and Blaine together.”
Oh my god…he knew the characters. She was going to have a heart attack…she was going to die right here and now. He knew Pretty in Pink!!!!
“You like John Hughes movies?” She asked hopefully…please please please…
“Yep. I like any movie where I cou
ld…” He stopped and blushed.
“Pretend to be the character that wins in the end?” She whispered.
He met her eyes. “Yeah.” He glanced down and his fingers began to strum The Psychadelic Furs tune; The Ghost in You, except his version was a gentle soothing croon. Ashleigh stared incredulously but she didn’t make a sound. He began to softly sing and his voice was amazing.
“…Inside you the times moves and she don’t fad. The ghost in you…”