Kaleidoscope (17 page)

And he was again reminded that even as smart as he was, he could be dumb.

Barry, not a young man, was still a handsome one. Dark hair now densely silvered with gray. Dark brown eyes. Fit body. Not brawn. Not lean either. Tall.

His wife, as displayed in pictures in their house, had been stunning and given her eyes to both her daughters. When Deck met her, she could still turn heads.

And all their kids were the same, save Emme way back when, who was, she just didn’t show it.

Nor did Deck look for it.

Seeing Barry up late, drinking coffee and appearing reflective, Deck knew why.

Deck had not only shared that McFarland was an employee run amuck. He’d also carefully shared that he might have an unhealthy fixation on Emme. He had not, however, shared that Emme was seeing McFarland. Making that decision, which had turned out to be a mistake, was hers to share with her father and her boss.

When he came in, Barry’s eyes came to him and Deck asked, “Can’t sleep?”

“Father’s intuition,” was Barry’s reply.

Deck nodded and joined him at the table.

“Get you a cup?” Barry asked, tipping his head to his.

“I’m good,” Deck declined.

Barry nodded, put his eyes to his cup and lifted it to his lips.

Only when he put it down did his eyes go back to Deck and he noted, “I’m feeling I’m missing something in all this.”

His father’s intuition was on the mark.

“Emme was not pleased I didn’t give her the opportunity to share direct with you something like this was happening with one of your employees,” Deck told him. “If something’s missing, this morning I promised to let her share that or discuss it with her before it’s shared.”

“So I’m missing something,” he surmised.

“Askin’ you not to put me in this spot, Barry,” Deck replied softly. “Ask your daughter.”

Barry nodded and looked to the dark window over the kitchen sink. He couldn’t see anything out that window, but Deck knew he wasn’t really looking.

“Why are you up, son?” he asked the window.

“Sleep four hours a night. Use the extra time to do shit I don’t have time to do during the day.” Barry looked back at him and Deck tapped the book he’d put on the table. “Thought I’d read awhile.”

“Don’t have to keep me company if you don’t like,” Barry told him.

“Don’t have to keep you company if you don’t want me to,” Deck replied, and Barry shook his head.

“Liked you the minute I met you, Jacob. Liked you and liked how you were with my girl. Never quite understood why Elsbeth ended things with you. Maeve said she was plum stupid. I agreed. It appears things work out the way they’re meant to be, or at least that’s my hope. Bottom line, nice to spend time with you again seeing as I enjoyed having that opportunity occasionally back in the day.”

“Sentiments returned, Barry.”

“But if you break my daughter’s heart, I’ll break you.”

Deck’s head jerked at this swift turn in their conversation.

“Know how sharp you are,” Barry continued. “Don’t know what you do for a living but I suspect it’s interesting. But money goes a long way, I got a lot of that, and you hurt my girl, I’ll use everything I got to hurt you back.”

“Barry, this isn’t—” Deck started to assure him.

“She’s different,” Barry whispered, and Deck shut his mouth at the pain and worry stark in Barry’s eyes.

Old pain and worry. Etched there. Hidden by strength of will. Exposed now for a purpose.

“I know what happened to her,” Deck told him quietly, hoping to ease the burden and not make him say those words out loud.

But he’d find with what Barry said next there was no way to ease this burden.

“Man lives three days not knowing where his daughter is,” Barry replied. “Three days not knowing if she’s eating. Not knowing if someone’s touching her. Not knowing if she’s dead in a ditch. Torture, Jacob. Utter torture made worse by looking at my wife, my boys, my other little girl, knowing they have the same thoughts eating away their brains. We got her back, we went on but we never recovered. You don’t. You don’t forget that feeling. You wake up tasting it in your mouth and you go to bed and send your thanks to God you got through the day and she’s somewhere you know where she is, sleeping safe.”

“I can’t imagine, Barry, and I don’t want to,” Deck said truthfully, holding his eyes.

“No. You don’t. But what I’m saying is, not one thing is going to harm my baby girl. Not again. I like you, Jacob. I respect you. I got the feeling you’re a good man, and I’m rarely wrong about that. And she likes you too, a great deal, years ago, but now, it’s a whole lot more. So if you hurt her, I will break you.”

“Again, I know what happened to her. You don’t know me well but I’ll tell you straight. I would not be at this table with you coming from where I just came from, knowing what I know Emme endured, knowing the woman your daughter is, how I feel about her, taking us where we are and leading us where I want us to be if I wasn’t very serious about being on that path.”

Barry’s gaze didn’t waver from Deck’s for long moments before he nodded.

“You’ll take no offense,” Barry stated, ending it.

“Absolutely,” Deck agreed.

He should have expected it just because Barry was the man he was. And that was a man who loved his daughter and took care of her no matter what her age. In other words, he argued about the bill that night and only backed down when he took a good look at Deck’s expression and the bulk of his frame. But when he backed down, he did it only slightly.

He was a man like Deck. No one paid for his meal. No one paid for his girl.

They split the bill.

Barry kept talking.

“As her father, I got to let her be free to live her life, make her decisions and make her mistakes. As her boss, the same. As both, I got to give her the freedom to share about her decisions or her mistakes if she feels she needs to do that. Emme’s her own girl, and I reckon you had an interesting conversation this morning but tonight you both made it clear there are no hard feelings. I appreciate the respect you’re giving her by making a promise and keeping it. But as just her father sitting at three thirty in the morning at her kitchen table with the man who’s making my baby girl his, I got to know how worried I need to be about what I don’t know.”

“I’m not a father. I can’t answer that. But I reckon whatever I say is not going to make you worry any more or less than you already are. The only thing I can tell you is I’ve shared my concerns with the right people, including Emmanuelle, and she’s got a lot of eyes on her, including mine. That’s all I have to give now, Barry, and I hope you can accept that.”

Barry sighed before he stated, “I’m getting the impression this is new for you two, so I hope in return you don’t mind me cramping your style because I’ll be taking more frequent trips to Gnaw Bone, Jacob. Not because I don’t trust you. But when it comes to Emme, it’s just what I got to do.”

“Understandable.”

“I’ll give you space but I’ll be around.”

“We’ll work with that.”

“And, you need me to, you two go on a date or something, I’ll watch your dog because he’s a cute, droopy bugger.”

Deck smiled. “Might take you up on that.”

Barry nodded. Then he patted a hand palm flat on the table before he got up and walked his cup to the sink.

He turned around and declared, “Maeve tells me she has nightmares about this kitchen.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Deck replied, still smiling.

Barry smiled back. “I’m gonna hit it and try again to sleep. See you in the morning, son.”

“Good night, Barry.”

“Night, Jacob.”

Barry walked out. Deck picked up his book, turned out the lights and went to the family room to settle in.

He opened his book making the decision to speak with Emme, tell her what happened with her dad and encourage her to lay it out so Barry had the information he needed to focus his attention and his worry.

Then he put his eyes to his book and read.

When the time was right, he stopped reading, switched out the lights, walked upstairs and slid back into bed with Emme, woke her gently then proceeded to do things to her where he had to use his mouth to stifle the noise.

Deck heard his garage door go up and he grinned at his stove.

And he was grinning because he gave Emme a remote.

He heard claws on the floor then he heard a door open.

After that, he heard Emme’s voice, crying, “Hey, puppy!” and his grin turned into a smile.

At hearing that, it was not lost on Deck that he could hear that same thing every night, Monday through Friday, heralding Emme was home. Her smile and eyes over dinner. Later, her body in his bed.

This would absolutely not suck.

On this thought, his smile got bigger.

There were long moments where he suspected there was a rubdown and tail wags before he heard claws on floor, this time coming back, and he twisted to look over his shoulder. Therefore he saw Emme rounding the wall that led to the open-space great room that included dining room and kitchen.

Her eyes came to him, they lit with warmth but she dumped her purse on the bar, slumped her shoulder so her overnight bag fell to the floor then she shrugged both shoulders to take off her jacket and throw it on a barstool.

She then put her hands to the bar and announced, “My dad the father was not pleased his daughter chose a felon to date. My dad the boss was not pleased the manager of his lumberyard dated an employee. He chewed me
out
.”

He’d told her about his conversation the night before with Barry and advised her to come clean. She told him she would.

She obviously did.

The look on her face told him she might have been chewed out but everything was okay.

Plans that night were that Emme had her talk with Barry then Barry was giving them space, staying at her place while they spent the night at his. He wasn’t leaving until after the weekend. Maeve was coming up on Thursday. She was doing this likely because she was worried about her daughter. She was also doing it likely because she was curious about Deck being her daughter’s new man.

“Come here, Emme,” Deck ordered.

She didn’t come there. Her eyes went to the stove and they lit with a different light.

“What’s that I smell?”

“Murgh makhani. Pilau rice. And naan bread that’s going to become cheese naan soon but it’s gonna suck because I don’t have a tandoor.” He told her and finished with, “But we’ll make do.”

Her eye drifted from the stove to him. “What’s murgh makhani?”

“Indian butter chicken.”

Her face got close to the look it got when he slid his cock inside her.

He was about to order her to come to him again when she went on.

“What’s a tandoor?”

“A traditional Indian clay oven.”

“I’m getting you one of those for Christmas,” she declared.

Deck burst out laughing.

When he stopped, she was smiling at him.

“Come here, Emme.”

Finally, she hauled her ass to him.

He pulled her into his arms for a quick kiss and when he lifted his head, she stated, “I’m not joking about Christmas. My sister lives in India. I’m going to ask her to send me one.”

“It’ll probably cost a mint to send it here but, just sayin’, it will not go unused.”

Her eyes slid to the stove then back to his. “I hope not. That smells awesome.”

He kept an arm around her, turned her to tuck her into his side and went back to the stove after kissing her temple.

“I brought my bathing suit,” she informed him.

“Won’t need it,” he informed her.

Her arms, both around his middle, gave him a squeeze and a slight shake.

“Jacob, honey, I want to go swimming because I want to go swimming and because I feel it’s my environmental duty to use that pool as often as I can seeing as you’re wasting so much energy to heat it.”

He looked down at her. “I didn’t say we weren’t going swimming. I said you won’t need your suit.”

Her face changed, her eyes drifting half closed and he felt her body shiver.

“And I also didn’t tell you, murgh makhani comes with my personal label ale and leads into turtle sundaes,” he continued.

At that, her body melted into his side.

“Awesome food, homemade beer and skinny-dipping,” she whispered. “Have I told you I like you today?”

“No. You told me you
really
like me,” he contradicted, and she did, that morning, about thirty seconds after she watched him come, which was after he made her come.

She melted deeper into him, tipping her head back. “You’re right. That’s what I said because that’s what I meant.”

Her body, the invitation of her mouth, her words, he didn’t let it slide.

But when he bent his neck to take her mouth that time, it wasn’t quick.

*    *    *

Three hours later…

“Fuck, Emme.”

He was close but she was closer, losing concentration while riding him, his ass to one of the steps of his pool, water up to his neck, Emme holding on tight, moving through the water, her sex convulsing as she took his cock, something he knew meant she was near the edge.

Something he knew she’d let fly.

He liked that, loved giving it to her, but he was as close as she was and watching her come without taking that pussy was pure torture, and when she lost concentration, he might have her pussy but he wasn’t taking it.

So he put his hands to her waist and pulled her off his cock. She cried out as he surged out of the water, taking her with him by bending at the same time, wrapping her around his neck.

She cried out again but this time it was, “Jacob!” as the slap of cold air hit them, her hands grabbing onto him as best she could.

He went to the French doors, threw one open, got them in the warmth and pushed it closed. Then he stalked to the couch.

“Jacob!” she yelled again. “We’re all wet.”

He bent his back and neck, tossing her wet and naked on his couch. “Don’t fuckin’ care.”

“We’re gonna ruin your—”

“Spread, baby. Now. One leg over the back of the couch. One foot to the floor.”

She shut up, her eyes locked to his, her face flushed, hair wet, tangled and all over his couch. She opened her legs, throwing one over the back of the couch, putting one foot to the floor.

Fuck him.

Gorgeous.

He covered her, took her mouth and thrust deep.

Her arms rounded him and her whimper raced down his throat.

Soon, her pussy convulsed as she took his cock and her whimpers turned to heated mews.

But he was close too.

And he brought them home together, bodies and mouths connected, her cry mingled with groan.

Magnificent.

*    *    *

Two days later…

It was four o’clock in the morning and Deck was in Emme’s library, at her desk, computer on, file spread out at its side, working.

He’d decided that, once they sorted the outside and the kitchen, he’d talk her into focusing on this room because he liked it.

She’d cleaned it, polished the copious wood of the shelves and carved paneled inlays and it was furnished. But there were holes left from the rewiring and parts of the wall that were not wood but plaster had been papered circa 1968 and whoever chose the wallpaper had not chosen something that would become retro chic. There wasn’t much of it, but it was so bad, the little of it there was was an eyesore.

“Honey, is everything okay?”

He turned and saw his girl, barefoot, hair tousled and in his shirt, only a few buttons done up, walking his way.

Seeing her in his shirt, he mentally calculated the distance to the guest room, inventoried the library’s furniture and decided on the couch and uninhibited noise. No way their sounds would carry up to the guest room, even if her mom and dad were awake.

Still, they’d close the door.

“Things are fine,” he answered as she stopped at his side.

Her eyes slid over the desk and computer and he turned in her chair, a big baronial one she said she inherited from her father when he redecorated his office in Denver.

“Come here,” Deck murmured. She looked to him, down to his lap, around the chair, hesitated a second then climbed on, knees in the seat beside him, ass to his thighs.

He put hands to her ass, pushing up his shirt and finding no panties.

He started to get hard.

Fuck, he’d had his share of women, but none had made him react like Emme did.

He knew it wasn’t all about her beauty, that hair, those eyes.

It was about her going wild.

And it was that her face still registered surprise sometimes when he was giving it to her, she knew she was going to get it, it wasn’t going slip away, and he liked that. It was cute. It was hot. But it was something only he gave her, which was well beyond cute or hot.

It was also, he reckoned due to what they had before, that she trusted him so she felt free to explore, opened herself to him and let him take what he wanted, was comfortable and relaxed so he could guide her there. Enough to wander around without panties. Enough to sleep naked when he asked. Enough to come hard, never be guarded, occasionally expose uncertainty and let him take over and guide her out of that too.

It was just Emme.

“Why can’t you sleep?” she asked, and he stopped concentrating on the feel of her ass in his hands and focused on her.

“Told you I only sleep four hours a night,” he reminded her and he had, over murgh makhani and turtle sundaes, before the pool, two nights ago.

Her eyes held his as her hands slid up his chest to his neck.

“Is this healthy?” she asked softly.

“Been like this my whole life, baby. Never had any issues with fatigue.” He glided his hands up her back, pulling her closer and she didn’t fight it. “It’s just me. Looked into it, it’s not unusual. Other people are the same.”

“Are those other people exceptionally bright, like you?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” he answered, liking also the way she teased him about his intelligence, brought it up often. It was something she understood, something she was not in awe of but that didn’t mean she didn’t admire it. She did. She made that plain, just in a playful way that meant she wasn’t intimidated by it as many people, men and women, were.

“So, are you working?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he answered.

Her eyes wandered to the desk then back to him.

“You said you’d never talk to me about your work,” she remarked in a leading way.

Deck didn’t like this turn of conversation.

Close to her ending things, Elsbeth bitched about this. Mostly the fact that, in establishing his business and reputation, he didn’t make near the money he did now. But Elsbeth was not the only woman Deck had in his life, nor was she the only one who bitched that what he did was confidential, he couldn’t share, but also, sometimes what he did was dangerous and he wouldn’t share in order not to cause concern that was unfounded.

Because Deck never took an uncalculated risk.

And Deck was very good at calculation.

He took one hand from her ass to brush her bangs out of her eyes as he suggested, “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this at four o’clock in the morning.”

To that, she strangely asked, “Do you mind talking about Elsbeth?”

He didn’t know where she was going with this new conversational turn, but he answered, “No.”

“She never told me about your work,” Emme shared.

“That’s because she also didn’t know.”

She nodded, pressed closer and continued, “Though, she did say that you didn’t make much money doing it.”

“Back then, I didn’t,” Deck confirmed.

“That’s obviously changed now, what with your mini-mansion and environmentally unconscious pool-heating waste.”

He grinned, wrapped his arms around her and again confirmed, “Yeah, Emme, that’s changed now. I established a reputation, jobs more frequent, I can charge more.”

She held his gaze steady, nodded and asked, “Do you like what you do?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Does it challenge you? Mentally, I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you know, back then with Elsbeth, that you’d eventually be this successful?”

His chin jerked back but he held her stare.

He never took an uncalculated risk.

He knew.

Elsbeth dumped him because his carefully crafted plan was not reaping the rewards she wanted by the time she expected.

He, on the other hand, did expect it to take time and he’d told her it would.

She’d lost patience with their two-bedroom apartment and not trading up their cars every year like her father had been doing since she was sixteen. Something, even though she also had a job, she expected him to bear the brunt of, like her father had been doing since she was sixteen.

She’d also held off accepting the engagement ring Deck had given her three years in, not wearing it, not making it official, not planning a wedding, waiting.

Then giving up.

And he’d let her. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had words when she told him it was over.

It was just that he didn’t do too much to change her mind.

Fuck.

“I knew. I also told her,” Deck shared.

“She just didn’t wait,” Emme guessed.

“No, she didn’t,” Deck told her something she knew.

“More fool her,” she murmured then the dimple appeared, “but lucky me.”

His hands started roaming and he grinned back. “Thinkin’ that too,” he replied. “Just about me.”

At his words, her eyes warmed, she pressed closer and whispered, “Mom likes you.”

Maeve had shown that day. Maeve had also cooked dinner for them that night and done it the entire time complaining about the stove, the flooring, the state of the countertops and how she’d probably wake screaming from her nightmares about Emme’s kitchen.

In other words, Maeve Holmes was funny, like her daughter.

But she did not make Shake ’n Bake.

“I like your mom,” Deck whispered back, hands still roaming.

“Can I ask one question about your work?”

Sneak attack.

“Emmanuelle—”

She lifted a hand to his jaw, gliding her thumb along his lower lip and interrupting, “Just one, Jacob.”

“You can ask it, baby, but in askin’, I’m askin’ you, please do not be pissed I can’t answer it.”