The Housekeeper's Daughter [Elvis]

Chapter 13 - Shirtless

He told her everything. Well, it was her right to know what her boyfriend was up to since they were separated by a few countries and then a full ocean. My heart nearly stopped when I saw him standing there as I went to answer the phone. I wanted to say something - anything - but the phone continued ringing mercilessly. I didn't feel any better when I found out that the girl on the other end was Elvis's teen-aged girlfriend. But were they really a couple? Well, maybe now they weren't, after their conversation. She knew that her man fell for another woman. His maid! How terrible! That poor girl...

"The next time I talk to 'im, I'm gonna demand that he keep his relationship with 'er," I said as I fluffed a pillow a little too forcefully in one of the eight guest rooms close to nine o'clock. "That girl doesn't deserve to be dumped because of a maid."

I finished up with the room and went on down the hallway. I stopped at Elvis's closed bedroom door. He wasn't home. He left shortly after that phone call and hadn't been back since.

"I think it's okay to go in," I muttered. "Momma wants me to tidy up all the rooms before I go to bed."

I opened the door to reveal a very clean room. I surmised that he kept his room clean on purpose as to not give us hired help more work. I smirked. He was such a nice man. A handsome, unselfish, caring and talented man. A man who any woman would love to call her own.

Including me, but that wasn't possible. I couldn't be with him no matter how much I wanted to... and no matter how much he wanted to, also.

"Don't think about it," I ordered myself. I went and fluffed up the pillows, straightened out the pink blanket a little more and made sure everything else in the room was in order.

Something caught my eye, something I had seen before and glanced at, but didn't take a good look. I came up to it as it sat on Elvis's dresser. It was a picture of him and Priscilla, with her looking absolutely stunning with her curly brown hair down, and him looking breathtaking in his army uniform and hat. Both were smiling.

"Lucky girl," I said. "I wonder if this was taken while he was still in the army, or if it was taken when he was filming."

"It was taken while I was still in the army."

I gasped. I didn't turn around. My heart went racing, making my hands start to go numb, and heat burned my cheeks. "Um... I'm sorry. I was only cleaning a bit, and I..."

I trailed off. I really needed to stop acting like an idiot.

"It's okay. I always seem to startle ya."

"I thought you were goin' to be home later, that's all. If I knew you were home now, I wouldn't have come in here."

"I really don't mind it."

Of course he wouldn't. "I will just be on my way..."

I turned around and I let out another gasp. He stood there about ten feet away from me, wearing nothing but a pair of black sleeping pants, and his hair was wet, like he had just stepped out of the shower. I had never seen a more steamy, attractive sight.

Oh, sweet mother of God...

He smirked, and I knew why he did. My face probably resembled a cherry. How the heck did I not hear him behind the closed bathroom door?!

I have to get out of here!

My legs wouldn't move me. He started walking over and stopped a few feet in front of me, his gaze melting my insides. "Pardon me, Megan," he said in his low drawl, and my nerves tingled. I looked at the dresser. Oh. I stepped out of the way, and he opened a drawer and pulled out a white shirt. I took that as my leave to go. At the door, "Megan."