8 Chapter Gardening

The images were back. The two of us. Hot and sweaty. I bit my lip and tried to make my expression blank, but yet again I knew he could tell what I was thinking when his expression turned annoyingly smug. Beyond annoying.

"You're kind of dirty, Kitten." I blinked. Deny. Deny. Deny. "What did you say?"

"Dirty," he repeated, voice so low I knew Dee couldn't hear him. "You're covered in dirt. What did you think I meant?"

"Nothing," I said, wishing he'd back the hell up. Daemon being this close wasn't exactly comforting. "I'm gardening. You get dirty when you do that."

His lips twitched. "There are a lot more fun ways to get...dirty. Not that I'd ever show you. " I had a feeling he knew each way intimately.

A flush spread over my cheeks, down my throat.

"I'd rather roll around in manure than anything you might sleep in."

Daemon arched a brow and then spun around. "You need to call Matthew," he said to his sister. "Like now and not five minutes from now."

I stayed against the tree, eyes wide and unmoving until he disappeared back into his house, the door slamming shut behind him. I swallowed, looking at a distraught Dee.

"Okay," I said. "That was intense." Dee dropped down on the steps, her hands in her face. "I really love him, I do. He's my brother, the only - " She cut herself off, lifting her head. "But he's a dick. I know he is. He wasn't always like that." Speechless, I stared at her. My heart was still racing, pumping blood way too fast. I wasn't sure if it was fear or adrenaline that was making me dizzy when I finally pushed away from the tree and approached her. And if I wasn't afraid, I kind of wondered if I should be.

"It's hard having friends with him around," she murmured, staring at her hands. "He runs them all off."

"Gee, I wonder why." Actually, I did wonder why. His possessiveness seemed a bit off the charts. My hands were still shaking, and even though he was gone, I could still feel him - the heat he'd thrown off. It had been...exciting. Sadly.

"I'm so, so sorry." She jumped up from the steps, opening and closing her hands. "It's just that he's overprotective."

"I get that, but it's not like I'm some dude trying to molest you something." A grin peeked through. "I know, but he worries a lot. I know he'll...calm down, once he gets to know you."

I doubted that.

"Please tell me he hasn't run you off, too." She stepped in front of me, brows furrowed. "I know you probably think hanging out with me isn't worth - "

"No. It's okay." I ran a hand over my forehead. "He didn't run me off - he won't." She looked so relieved I thought she'd collapse. "Good. I have to go, but I'll fix this. I promise."

I shrugged. "There's nothing to fix. He isn't your problem."

A strange look crossed her face. "But he kind of is. I'll talk to you later, okay?" Nodding, I watched her head back to her house. I grabbed the empty bags. What the hell had that been about? Never in my life had someone disliked me so strongly. Shaking my head, I dumped the bags in the trash.

Daemon was hot, but he was a jerk. A bully.

And I'd meant what I said to Dee. He wasn't going to scare me off from being friends with his sister. He'd just have to deal with it. I was here to stay.

I skipped posting on my blog on Monday, mainly because it was usually a "What are you reading" type thing and I wasn't reading anything new at the moment. I decided my poor car needed a bath instead. Mom would be proud if she had been up, seeing that I was outside during the summer and not chained to my laptop. Other than the occasional gardening stint, I was typically a shut-in.

The sky was clear and the air carried a light musky scent mingled with pine. Soon after I'd gotten started with cleaning the inside of my car, I was amazed at how many pens and hair ties I found. Seeing my book bag on the back seat caused me to cringe. In a couple of weeks I'd be starting a new school, and I knew Dee would be surrounded by friends - friends that Daemon probably approved of, which wasn't me, because he obviously thought I was a crack dealer.

Next, I got out a bucket and hose and soaped up most of the car, but when I reached over the top of the roof, all I ended up doing was soaking myself and dropping the sponge a dozen times.

No matter which side I tried to attack the roof from, it wasn't working Cursing, I started picking out pieces of gravel and grass from the sponge. I wanted to launch it into the nearby woods. Frustrated, I ended up tossing the sponge into the bucket.

"You look as if you could use some help." I jumped. Daemon stood a few feet away from me, hands in the front pockets of his faded jeans. His bright eyes sparkled in the sunlight.

His sudden appearance had startled me. I hadn't even heard him. How could someone move so damn quietly, especially as tall as he was? And hey, he had a shirt on. I wasn't sure if I should be grateful or disappointed. Mouth aside, he was drool-worthy. I snapped out of it, preparing myself for the inevitable verbal smack down.

He wasn't smiling, but at least he didn't look like he wanted to kill me this time. If anything, his expression took on a mask of grudging acceptance, probably how I looked when I had to give a book I'd been excited about a less than stellar review.

"You looked as though you wanted to throw that again." He gestured to the bucket with his elbow and the sponge floating on top of the suds. "I figured I'd do my good deed for the day and intervene before any innocent sponges lose their lives." I brushed a few strands of damp hair out of my eyes, not sure what to say.

Daemon bent quickly and snatched up the sponge, squeezing out the excess water. "You look like you got more of a bath than the car. I never thought washing a car would be so hard, but after watching you for the last fifteen minutes, I'm convinced it should be an Olympic sport."

"You were watching me?" Kind of creepy.