Man: Wanted: Chapter Seven - Part One

One More Man Than Wanted

1

My husband was at the door. And I was a man.

“Shit,” I murmured. “Oh shit.”

I made a little jerk forward as though I might actually answer the door but caught myself so abruptly I almost lost balance and rocked forward. I couldn’t answer the door – not like this. What the hell would he think? What would I say?

And where had the cocky self-assuredness I normally had as Geoff gone?

Every other time the easy masculinity and self-confidence had eased over me pretty much right away but the alarm of this jolting turn of events was blocking that entirely. I felt just as stricken as I normally would have.

I had no idea what I was going to do.

Then the doorbell went again and I fumbled for the ring, pulling at it.

I had to answer the door and let Billy in. I couldn’t keep him waiting. He might go away.

I got the ring part way up my finger, moving toward the door, then I stopped, confused, totally unsure what I should do. I wanted to see him – I’d been aching to for so long I’d had to just force it out of my mind or let it consume me – but now that the moment was here that impulse snagged on something curdling in my stomach that was made of anger and resentment. Now the masculinity in me did spurt, because as I’d already shown more than once, when I was Geoff I didn’t take crap from anyone. And that was surely what Billy had given me.

I reached for the door handle, determined suddenly to tell him exactly what I thought of him; defend my “sister” Alison as any strong brother should. But the part in me that was still that sister quailed at that, pulling my momentum and leaving only doubt. I couldn’t see him. I was terrified of it. I just wanted to get out of the situation.

But he didn’t go. He pressed the buzzer again, loitering there.

Of course he wouldn’t give up so easily. He must have driven from Coventry. Or at the very least he’d made a detour from the M40 on his way to someplace else.

What did he want? Why had he come all this way? My mind fired off half a dozen possible reasons but I couldn’t know. Only by opening that door.

Instead I backed away from it to the lounge doorway, but I pulled back into the hall in alarm when I realised that any minute he might peer in through the front windows.

Sure enough, I caught sight of his silhouette doing just that and ducked out of sight as he cupped his hands round his face at the glass, just as Rasheed had done earlier that day.

I didn’t get a good look at him – he would have seen me if I had – and that was maddening. But I couldn’t face him; not like this.

I went to remove the ring again but refrained myself. I was just as afraid that if I changed back to a girl I would let him in. The idea of that was as awful as anything else.

Wary he would see me if he looked through the letterbox, I ducked back into the kitchen and stood there looking just as frozen. But he could come round the back! And I couldn’t go back through the hall now. I looked about me desperately then ducked inside the pantry.

Now I really did feel like a prat. But I stayed there anyway, hiding, until I was sure he must have gone. Five full minutes. Even then when I emerged, I crept carefully around, checking I couldn’t see him anywhere. But I couldn’t. He was gone. Outside the front his car was gone too.

I let out a strangled sigh then abruptly felt ashamed at how I’d reacted, my cheeks colouring hotly. But I was still glad I’d avoided him. I might have said anything if I’d had to look into those big brown eyes. Or done anything.

But I had an ugly feeling that he wasn’t gone for good. He hadn’t come this far just to drive home again. And what would have driven him to travel this far in person rather than ringing me?

Though I had blocked his number on my mobile...

I twisted the ring on my finger, round and round, wondering when he would come back.

And wondering what I was going to do about it when he did.