A Bit of Relaxation

It's Sunday, so that means all the chores I didn't do yesterday while I got to play in the books for the day. And I took the next two days off, just because. Of course there are things I'll get done while I'm off, but the time off wasn't for something, for a change. That's the first time that's happened since I started at the day-job last January. I've been working on the weekend chores today, and I'll wrap up the last of those tomorrow, but that's okay, I'll also be waiting for a new mattress delivery (and boy, is the new mattress overdue! My hip is going to be so happy, haha!). I have revisions on my list of things I want to work on in the next two days as well, and we'll see what else I can knock out, but I'm aiming for some time to do nothing productive as well. And that's how this week's graphic came about...what would you do with a relaxation break? All the things pictured above are on my list, though some are unlikely to happen (I may sneak in the massage later in the week).

While you're thinking about what you'd do with some down-time, I have a snippet for you this week from Protecting Medusa.

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            It seemed an eternity before she heard steady footsteps crunching in the snow leading to the door, and she tensed even more, pain sliding up the back of her neck to squeeze her skull. Her breath escaped in a rush when she saw Ryder step inside, and she lowered her dagger to her side, eyes closing for a second. Thank you, Gods. 

            He shut the door and knelt in front of her. “It’s all right.” He touched her cheek with cold fingers, and she shut her eyes again.

            “Gone?” She opened her eyes and found his expression somber, his brown eyes hard.

            “Dead.”

            She gasped, the room tilting sharply to one side.

            “Either him or you, and I’d prefer him.” He helped her to her feet. “I’ve got to get rid of the body.” He cupped her elbows in his hands while he studied her expression. He guided her back to her seat and pushed her into it, then took the dagger from her nerveless fingers. “Drink some of that orange juice, baby. You look mighty pale.”

            While she wrapped both hands around her glass, he tugged her skirt up far enough to reveal the soft leather sheath strapped to her thigh.

            “Nice,” he murmured, then put her blade into it and snapped it shut. His fingers, hard, a little rough, lingered along her skin, distracting her from her chaotic thoughts for a couple of seconds. He inhaled shakily, then pulled her skirt into place, rising again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Do not go anywhere without me, Mena.” He bent to kiss the top of her head, then strode out to his truck after resetting the alarm.

            She rose, still shocked, then stood there at the door, staring out into the snowy back yard as the sound of his truck faded away.

            He’d killed someone to protect her.

            The thought chilled her. Not necessarily the idea he’d killed someone. She imagined he’d killed before, during his time in the military and working for the intelligence agency. But to keep her safe... Someone who would have killed her given the opportunity. That was the chilling part.

            The Harvesters had really found her.

            She shivered, wrapping her arms around her waist, and turned away from the door. Her mother and Jason were in danger with her here. Far more than she’d ever let herself imagine.

            Fear tightened her chest. She needed to go somewhere else. Somewhere the Harvesters wouldn’t kill her family to get to her. Away. 

            She scraped her breakfast into the trash, hands shaking so much she dropped her fork in, too. Her breath came too fast, making her dizzy. She retrieved the fork, carrying it and her plate to the sink and turning on the water, too hot, but she put her hands under it anyway, wincing before adjusting the temperature.

            Where would she go?

            Oh, Gods, how would she go? How could she not see Jason again? She bit her lip against the sting of tears in her eyes. She’d had him since Desi gave birth to him six years ago. 

            The phone rang, startling her, and she sniffed, grabbing a dish towel on her way to pick it up. “Hello?”

            “Good, you’re still there.” Ryder.

            She sniffled. “I have to go.”

            “Not without me.” His tone went hard. “That’s why I told you not to go anywhere without me. I knew you would get there.”

            Philomena wiped the towel over her cheek. “It’s not safe for them if I’m here.”

            “I know, baby,” he said, more gently. “But wait for me. We’ll do this together. I can keep you safe.”

            She dropped into the chair he’d abandoned, staring at his half-eaten breakfast. “I can’t stay.”

            “Mena.”

            She stuck his fork into the small mound of eggs on the plate, her mind spinning in too many directions. Her heart pounded loud enough to drown out most of those thoughts, even if she could capture one.

            “Mena.”

            His sharp tone snagged her attention. “What, Ryder?”

            “Stay with me here.” He took a deep breath and released it. “I’ll be back at the house in maybe twenty minutes. My buddy will be there in the next hour or two. We have to stay for a while, to get him settled. To say goodbye to Aggie and Jason, temporarily. But we’ll go together, do you understand me?”

            She picked up a forkful the bright yellow eggs, trying to concentrate on his words and staring at the eggs. “Together?”

            “Yes, together. You and me.”

            She stuck the eggs into her mouth without thinking, and her stomach growled. She blinked, chewing slowly. With Ryder. She didn’t doubt he could keep her safe from the Harvesters. “Okay,” she said at last.

            He sighed, and it was clear, even over the phone line, the sound was filled with relief. “Good, smart girl. Are you eating your breakfast?”

            “No, yours. I threw mine away.” She stuck another bite of eggs in her mouth, trying to concentrate only on the act of eating.

            He laughed.

            Philomena smiled faintly. The eggs were cool now, not especially appetizing. But she was starved.

            “We’ll have to pack some things for you when I get back.”

            “Mm.” She didn’t want to think yet about packing, about leaving. No, just breakfast for now.

            “Promise me, Mena.”

            She swallowed another forkful of eggs. “Promise what?”

            “You’ll be waiting there if I hang up now.”

            She considered. If she left on her own, it wouldn’t take long before she found herself floundering without resources or a plan. She was smart enough to know that. If she waited for Ryder, infuriating as he’d proven to be even before she met him in person, she knew she had a better chance of staying alive and getting back to Jason and her mother in one piece. “Okay.”

            “Promise me.”

            She stuck her tongue out at the phone. “Fine, I promise.” He didn’t need to know she thought he might be her only chance. It would only make his head fatter.

            “Good girl.”

            She rolled her eyes.

            “I’ve got a little business to take care of now, so I’m going to hang up. I’ll be there soon.”

            She thumbed off her phone when the line went dead, setting it beside the plate. She felt a tiny bit better now. Calmer. The man had other talents besides churning up her hormones and deliberately annoying her. She scooped up another bite of eggs, and another, until she’d finished his breakfast.

            By then, she felt almost normal. Philomena finished clearing away the dishes, rinsing them and leaving them in the sink while she put away last night’s dinner dishes from the dishwasher. She kept busy, not allowing herself to think of what might have happened earlier. Of what had happened to the Harvester. When Ryder let himself into the house nearly forty minutes later, she’d finished the website she’d been working on last night.

            He looked grim, his mouth a tight line in his hard face, and her stomach twisted in anticipation of whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

            Instead of speaking, he went to the fridge and took out a juice bottle, opening it and taking a swig before he sat across from her. “I went through his pockets and to his motel to have a quick look around,” he said at last, setting his bottle down and meeting her gaze. “I found his laptop and some notes. Some weapons.” Ryder studied her face for a moment. “It was always too much to hope he hadn’t told anyone else where you were.”

            She closed her eyes and bowed her head, feeling goosebumps raise on her arms.

            “I don’t think anyone will look for him right away, though I imagine if he doesn’t check in, someone will come.” He nudged her foot with his under the table, and she opened her eyes, reluctantly meeting his dark gaze. “We have a little time to plan.”

            That didn’t make her feel better.

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So...what would you do with some time off that was 'just because'? I'd love to hear about it.

Until next week, happy reading!