Grandfather Robert's Will
The 19th chaper

Rachel began to bully, momentarily stunned, then smiled. A slow, sly smile that always amazes Jenson. “No,” akunya. “You're writing a detective story so how should we look for clues?”

Jenson's lips smiled faintly wanting to make fun of. “I didn't have time to bring my magnifying glass.”

“You can be almost awesome if you put your mind there.” As she got up, Rachel began to shine her flashlight to and fro. “Maybe he dropped something.”

“Ambar business card?”

Rachel, suddenly knelt down and looked under the bed. “Aha!” Still staring, he grabbed something.

“What is it?” Jenson was already beside her before the girl straightened out.

“Shoes.” Rachel held it with both hands. “Nothing. It belongs to Grandpa Robert.”

“I miss him," said Jenson.

Rachel sat down for a moment with the boots on her lap. “You know, sometimes it's as if I can feel it. It was as if he was in a corner, in the next room, waiting to show up and laughing at the great joke he played.”

Laughing briefly, Jenson rubbed Rachel's back. “I understand you mean.”

Rachel looked at him, steady, calculating. “Maybe you do understand,” murmured. He quickly took the shoes from under the bed, then got up. “I'd like to have a look at the contents of the closet.”

“Tell me if you find cake.” Jenson returned Rachel's gaze with a shrug. “In the early stages of quitting smoking."

“You should try chewing gum.” Rachel opened the closet and shone her flashlight into some of the jars and cans inside. There is peanut butter, a short round container, and Russian caviar. Grandpa's two favorite snacks. His gaze swept the taco sauce and the large fruit cocktail, reminiscing about his ninety-three-year-old grandfather having an appetite as big as a teenager. He reached out, Rachel grabbed one of the cans and lifted it up.

“Aha!”

“Again?”

“Fish the tuna,” Rachel announced while brandishing the can towards Jenson. “This can of tuna.”

“You are absolutely right. There's the mayo, isn't there?”

“Don't think shallowly so, Jenson. Grandpa Robert hates tuna.”

Jenson began to curse something sarcastic, then stopped. “She does hate him, right?” lirih. “And he never saved Something he didn't like.”

“Quickly once.”

“Congratulations, Sherlock. Now who of the suspects are happy on canned fish?”

“You're just jealous because I found a clue and you're not.”

“That's just a hint,” Jenson stressed, kind of upset about being defeated by an amateur, “if you can do something about it.”

Jenson never gave her praise, Rachel thought, to everything, not to her work, her intellect, even her womanhood. There was an unsettling tone in Rachel's tone of voice as she began to speak. “If you're so pessimistic, why come all the way here?”

“I hope to find someone.” Restless, Jenson shone his flashlight from one side of the wall to the other. “So far all we've done is prove that someone was once here and now is no longer.”

Rachel threw the tuna tin away in annoyance. “Time waste.”

“You shouldn't have followed me.”

Rachel pointed her flashlight at Jenson. He looked too male, too dangerous in the shadows. Rachel hopes, he himself has a good body and amazing style that can make Jenson stunned on his knee. Their breaths roared, as if fused together.

“Together, you followed me.”

“Oh, so. That's why I got here first.”

“Forget that. If you're planning on coming here tonight, why didn't you tell me?”

Jenson came closer. But if she gets too close to Rachel, she starts to feel something, some kind of vibration all over her body. “For the same reason you didn't tell me. I don't believe you, Cousin. You don't trust me.”

“At least we agree on one thing.” Rachel started to step away and found her arm blocked. In one swift motion, he lowered his face to observe Jenson's hand, then looked up to stare at her face. “That's a habit you should be trying to break, Jenson.”

“The saying goes, if you eliminate one habit, you create another habit.”

The cold tone in Rachel's voice never changed, but her blood was warming. “So?”

“You're easier to touch than I thought, Rachel.”

“Do not carelessly talk, Jenson. I've never been touched by any man.” Rachel took one step back, not a step back, he told himself. It was just an attacking move. But Jenson followed his lead.

“I never asked about life se*smu.” As Rachel took another step back, Jenson cornered her beautifully. Next to Rachel's hand tucked into a pocket, the hair spray can was held tightly. “Let me guess. You chose a man with a series of initials behind his name who was more philosophical about se*s than doing so.”

“Do not know, I have never slept with any man, although I was seen walking with men often.

Jenson silenced Rachel's mouth in a way she often imagined. With his own mouth.

This time the kiss was not a test, but something hot, exciting, close to despair. Whatever Rachel might feel, she'll tell you later. Now he will accept the experience. Jenson's mouth felt warm, sturdy, and he used it with a typical male self-confidence that at other times would definitely anger Rachel greatly. This time Rachel greeted him with her own mouth.

Jenson was really strong, doing it over and over. For the first time Rachel felt herself face to face with a man who wouldn't treat her gently. Jenson demands, expects, and gives a truly limitless body. Rachel did not need to think carefully during that kiss. He doesn't even have to think about anything.

Jenson expects Rachel to hit back and punch her back. Rachel's quick and quick response made her stagger. After that he will remember something very basic and simple like a kiss that makes his head spin.

Rachel prepared her punch, but she did it with her soft lips. If he knew how fast he could reach Jenson, would he be proud? Jenson won't think about it now. That man won't think of anything now. Without the slightest hesitation, buried her common sense in Rachel and let her feelings reign supreme.

The cottage was cold and dark without a single glimmer of the moonlight of romance. The smell of dead smoke and dust spread in every corner. The wind blew, making the windows crackle. None of the two of them noticed. Even when they let go of each other, no one noticed.

Jenson's condition isn't steady. That's something he'll think about later. At least he got the satisfaction of seeing Rachel was also not steady. The woman looked just like Jenson felt, unbalanced, and unable to prepare to land the next blow. Needing a bit of self-balance, Jenson smirked at him.

“So what did you say?”

Rachel wants to hit him. He wanted to kiss Jenson again until he had no strength to grin. Jenson expected her to kneel at his feet as any other woman could. She expected Rachel to sigh and smile and give up so she could get one more victim. But Rachel instead snapped, “Idiot.”

“I like it when you come clean.”

“Remember rule number five,” call Rachel while putting on the look of a killer, “There should be no physical contact.”

“No physical contact,” Jenson assures as Rachel rushes towards the exit, “unless both parties enjoy it.”

Rachel slammed the door and left Jenson grinning.