Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey (25 page)

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Authors: Jean C. Joachim

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #love story, #contemporary romance, #steamy love story

BOOK: Now and Forever 5, Love's Journey
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Lara’s forehead was damp with sweat. She
stopped and Andres moved his hands up over her breasts. Lara pushed
his hands back down to her waist. He leaned over and kissed her
neck while his hands crept up again. She pushed them down again.
Peter was ready to jump through the window and punch him in the jaw
when she wiggled free of Andres’ grasp and reached for a small
towel.

“I told you not to do that, Andres. We’re
not a couple anymore. I’m with Peter and you shouldn’t touch
me.”

“Tell me you don’t like it when I do that,
chérie
? You used to love it. You used to love it when I put
my hands…” He took a step toward her.

“But I don’t anymore. If you want to dance
with me, Andres, you’ll have to keep your hands professional…get
it?” Lara held out her hand, palm up, to stop his advancing.

“But we dance so much better together when
we are lovers,
chérie
.”

“Andres! Back off. Dancing…only.” She mopped
her face with the towel.

Peter was still steaming, but Lara was
handling it.

“Okay, okay. But if you change your mind…or
need a massage, let me know. I still like you,
chérie
. We
were good together.”

“I love Peter and won’t be needing any
massages from you, okay?”

“Another hour, eh,
chérie
?”

“One more hour, then that’s it for
today.”

“Soon you will be good enough to perform for
Madame Fouret and it will be because I came here to train you.
There are lots of ways you can repay me, Lara…”

“Back off. There are lots of women in the
ballet. Find someone else.” She stretched her legs and got into
position.

“Ah, yes, there are lots of women there…but
none so…so…responsive…so sexy,
chérie
. I remember…”

“Forget it. Now let’s do this step again,”
she said, focusing on the dance.

Peter was boiling over. How dare Andres talk
about her like that? He wanted to punch him. Lara was his now, even
if he hadn’t proposed to her yet. He tried to flush from his mind
the idea that she had been “sexy” with Andres. He made up his mind
to wait until Andres put so much as a finger in the wrong place on
Lara again, then he would punch him out.

Peter tried to concentrate on his piano but
gave up as the ballet across the way was too distracting. He set up
papers to grade on the table facing the window but couldn’t focus.
Keeping an eye on Andres became watching Lara dance. Her grace and
determination held his attention.

The constant repetition showed her progress
to be painstakingly slow. She was rusty.

At five thirty, Lara returned to Peter’s
house. Peter was in the living room, marking papers. Lara kissed
him, then headed for the shower. Afterward, she came out in a robe
with a towel on her head and plopped down on the sofa.

“Andres is a slave driver.” She rubbed her
head with the towel.

“It looked more like he was trying to drive
you into bed.”

“Oh, did you see all that?” She blushed.

He nodded.

“You weren’t spying or anything, because
maybe you’re worried or jealous?”

“Right.” Peter penned a B+ on a paper and
turned it face down, focusing on the next one.

“Peter, are you going to watch all our
rehearsals?”

“Only the ones where Andres is feeling you
up.”

“Come on, I stopped him before he did
anything.” She unwrapped the towel.

“Not from where I was standing. He had his
hands on you.” Peter put down his pen.

“For a few seconds. Calm down. I can handle
him.”

“I hope you can, before he handles you.”

“You need to get over this. Andres and I
will be working together for a few more weeks and you’re going to
drive yourself crazy worrying about him touching me. He’s not going
to do anything.” She rubbed her hair briskly with the towel.

Peter joined her on the sofa. “What will you
do when your training is done?” He pulled her closer.

“I’ll probably try out for Madame Fouret,
but I won’t get chosen.”

“Why not? You’re a great dancer.” He
massaged her shoulders.

“I’m not a great dancer anymore. Three years
is a long time to be away from the dance, bear.” She pulled his
hand to her lips for a kiss then turned to face him.

“What if she does choose you?” He raised his
eyebrows.

“Then I’ll return to New York and dance, I
suppose,” she tossed off, running her hand up his chest.

“What about us?” Peter grabbed her wrist and
stilled her hand.

“It will only be for one season. I’ll come
back when the season is over.”

“When will that be?” He continued to keep
her hand immobile.

“In June.” Lara shot him a quizzical
glance.

“By June, I’ll be gone.” He let her hand
drop.

“I forgot you’re going back,” she said, her
brows creasing.

“What happened to teaching dance
instead?”

“I’d like to…but if you get picked by Madame
Fouret…well it’s a great honor. I won’t though, so don’t worry. I’m
too old.” She retrieved a hairbrush from the pocket of her robe and
began to brush her damp hair.

“Too old at twenty-eight?”

“Most dancers are nineteen or twenty. I’m
not in my physical prime anymore.”

“You are for me,” Peter snickered.

“Peter!”

“Besides, it’s dangerous for you to go back
to New York. The guy who attacked you may still be there. He’ll
recognize you but you won’t recognize him. He could kill you,
honeybee,” Peter said, his arms closing protectively around
her.

“I guess you don’t want me to go?” She put
down the hairbrush.

“I don’t.” He kissed her head.

“What about the opportunity for my career?”
She squirmed around to face him.

“You gave up dancing three years ago,
why?”

“It was hard work and often exhausting. Lots
of rehearsals. I couldn’t drink or party and still perform. I made
a mistake and chose a bad path. I’d have been better off staying
until I was too old, about the age I am now.”

“Did you sleep with a lot of men when you
were partying?” Peter took the brush and ran it through her
hair.

“Don’t change the subject. We were talking
about dance.”

You said dance didn’t leave time for a
private life. What about us? Would you have time for me if you’re
dancing?”

“Not a lot.” She straightened up.

“And you’re still going to go? I thought you
said you loved me?” He continued brushing her hair.

“I do. But I should at least try out.”

“You can’t do that without considering the
possibility of getting chosen. You can’t go in without a back-up
plan.” He put the brush down.

“I should have a back-up plan.”

“How about teaching and living with me in
South Africa?”

“Maybe.” She adverted her gaze from his.

He turned away as a dark mood engulfed him.
Lara reached for him.

“Don’t go to New York. Stay here with me,”
Peter said, kissing her neck.

“Dancing is what I do, bear,” she said,
closing her eyes. “I probably won’t get chosen anyway. Let’s not
worry about it now. Let’s make love,” she whispered. before the
phone rang. Lara picked up her cell and walked into the
kitchen.

“Who was that?” Peter asked as he stood up
and stretched when she came back.

“Andres. My audition is set for December
twenty-first. Come on.” Lara tugged on his hand, leading him to the
bedroom.

Chapter
Sixteen

 

 

Across town at Johnny and Rebecca Novacek’s
house

 

Thanksgiving was four days away. Rebecca
planned the family celebration with Jakub’s help.

“I suppose Johnny and I are going to have to
start getting up and taking care of our own kids in the morning,”
Rebecca said, smiling at Jakub.

Johnny was out collecting rent.

“Maybe.” Jakub blushed and nodded.

“Is she pretty?” Rebecca opened another
cabinet, searching for something.

His face heated more and he smiled
shyly.

“Yes.”

“I’d like to meet her sometime.” Rebecca
scribbled two more items down on the list.

“Maybe.” Jakub didn’t know how long Marcia
might be in his life.

“Here’s the list.” Rebecca gave Jakub the
shopping list for Thanksgiving. Nika’s youngest brother lived
nearby with his wife and teenage child and they were coming for the
celebration.

“Would you like to invite your
pritelkyne
to have Thanksgiving dinner with us?”

“I don’t think. Thank you, Rebecca.”

“Why?”

“She will be at hospital with…with…someone
to take care of.”

“It’s not my tenant, Mrs. Wilton, is it?”
Johnny tossed off as he came through the door. “She’s married. Are
you sleeping with a married woman whose husband is dying?” Johnny
took off his coat, eyeing his father.

“Oy! None of your business, Johnny.” Jakub
strode out of the room.

“Johnny!” Rebecca said.

“I know, I know. Respect.”

“If he wasn’t living with us, we wouldn’t
know any of this. Don’t pry into his life…or judge him,
either.”

“You’re right. I know. But I don’t want him
to get into trouble.”

“Maybe you don’t want him to find happiness
with someone and leave us?” She rested her hands on her hips.

“Maybe. If I can’t make love to you in the
morning, I’m going to get grouchy, Rebecca.” He took her in his
arms and kissed her.

“Maybe it isn’t fair we can make love in the
morning and he can’t?” She softened against him.

“He’s an old man. He had his time, with my
mother. Now it’s my time.” Johnny ran his hands up and down her
sides.

Rebecca laughed.

“So you think I’m old man? Too old for young
woman? I don’t think and she don’t think,” Jakub said, returning to
the kitchen.

“Papa, I didn’t mean…” Johnny let go of his
wife.

“You did mean. I’m still a man.”

“But Mrs. Wilton, Papa…she’s…”

“She’s living same thing I live with your
mama. I help her.”

“Yeah, Papa, you help her…you help her into
bed!”

“You show disrespect!” Jakub’s hands
clenched at his sides.

“How can I show respect, Papa, when you’re
sleeping with a married woman?”

“It’s not like that. She needs me. We not
hurt anybody.”

“What does her husband say?” Johnny cocked
his eyebrow.

“He doesn’t know.” Jakub shook his head
slightly.

“Are you sure about that?”

“I suspect he does not know.”

“Did you sleep with another woman when Mama
was dying?” Johnny stepped closer to his father.

“No.”

“Did you?” he asked, pulling on his father’s
sleeve.

“No! I had no one. I was alone. Nika
wish…Nika wish…none of your business. What do you know about dying?
What do you know about living with dying person? What do you know
about love?” Jakub’s voice rose.

“I don’t sleep with other men’s wives,”
Johnny spat out at his father.

“You judge me? You judge her? You don’t know
anything. No talk anymore.” Jakub stormed out of the kitchen.

The atmosphere at Johnny’s house became
strained. Johnny had not spoken to his father since their fight.
Jakub was away from the house as much as he could be. He spent
every night with Marcia. They watched football games, ate together,
and made love. Marcia started to put on some weight because Jakub
was taking good care of her.

Jakub needed money, so he did some odd jobs
for another landlord, painting apartments and fixing things and
stayed away from Johnny’s other houses. He brought food to Marcia’s
house. They cooked together, Jakub teaching Marcia how to cook
Czech style and Marcia teaching Jakub about American cuisine.

 

* * * *

 

Marcia got the call on Thanksgiving morning.
Jay was dead. It seemed to her he was hanging on to make sure she
was taken care of. Marcia was numb. She called Jay’s mother, the
funeral home, and her sister. Then she went in the bathroom and
threw up.

 

* * * *

 

Thanksgiving dinner at the Novacek house was
festive except for Jakub avoiding Johnny and Johnny avoiding his
father. Jakub played with his twin grandchildren, Annabeth and
Joey. They missed their grandfather so at Thanksgiving they took
every opportunity to climb onto his lap and steal his
attention.

During the meal, the phone rang.

“Leave it, Johnny. It’s Thanksgiving. Who
could be calling?” Rebecca said.

When the answering machine picked it up,
Jakub recognized Marcia’s voice. He ran for the phone and picked it
up before she hung up. He spoke in a low tone.

“I have to go. I’m sorry,” he announced,
picking up his plate and taking it to the kitchen.

“Why, is there a married woman who needs
your…assistance?” Johnny asked in a snide tone.

“A widow,” Jakub said, closing the door
behind him.

 

 

Marcia
answered
Jakub’s knock and was instantly in his arms, crying. She was dazed.
He held her tightly, stroking her hair while she cried.

“We don’t have much time. They’ll be here
soon.” Marcia dried her eyes.

“Who?” Jakub eased her down into a
chair.

“Jay’s family. You shouldn’t be here. They
wouldn’t understand.” Marcia pulled a hanky out of her pocket to
dry her eyes.

“Understand what? We are friends.” He
shrugged.

“We are lovers, Jake. They won’t
understand.”

“What do I do?”

“Go home. Wait for my call.”

 

 

Jakub did as she asked.

When he returned to Johnny’s house, the meal
was over.

“Back already? What happened? She toss you
out?”

Jakub looked at his son with angry eyes and
walked out. Rebecca threw the sponge into the sink and put her hand
on her hip. “If you keep this up, he’ll leave us.”

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