Proposition (11 page)

Amy stared at her mobile for a moment after he hung up before putting it aside. She couldn’t help feeling worried for him. It came to her how unexpected it was that she felt so anxious about someone who had appeared in her life just over a month ago. It was sad to admit that she turned out to be so love and attention starved that she’d managed to attach herself so quickly to the first man who entered her life since Michael. To tell the truth she was rather pathetic.

Sometimes she wondered what the love of her life, Michael Cummings, was doing now. Strange, but she hadn’t thought about him much for some time now. Last time she heard about him was from a mutual friend. She’d been told that he’d got a job in some prestigious law firm in Boston, moving there together with his wife. She could mail him, like a friend only, and she’d been tempted more than once, but she’d never done it. He’d been out of her life for over three years. He was in her past, full stop. There was no point in unburying it from the ashes.

To keep herself occupied, she cleaned the apartment, and cooked a light dinner, in case Jake was hungry when he returned home. When she finished with everything it was after 10pm, but he was still not back and he didn’t phone her another time. She decided to wait for him in the living room, curling on the couch, and flipping over the channels restlessly. At last, she settled on one of the music channels to watch a Kelly Clarkson concert.

She must have dozed off because she was awakened with a kiss on her forehead.

“I told you not to wait for me,” Jake whispered in a gentle voice, sitting beside her.

“What’s the time?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. TV was still on, filling the dark room with a monochromic light, but clearly the concert had ended as the sound was muted and there were some clips flashing on the screen.

His gentle hand brushed her hair away. “Just after midnight.”

“So late?” Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light and she took in his features. There was beard stubble and weary lines on his face, but he looked rather calm.

“The man who was injured had an operation, it ended an hour ago. I stayed with his wife there at the hospital.”

“Is he...?” she was afraid to ask.

He shook his head. “No, he’s fine. But I had to fire a few people, including the building site manager. Things turned pretty nasty at some point. This accident shouldn’t have happened.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said earnestly, cupping his cheek and observing him leaning into her hand. “It had to be such a horrible day for you.”

He kissed the inside of her palm and smiled, shaking his head in denial. “You’re here,” he said, as if that had been the explanation for everything.

Amy frowned, pretending not to understand. Scrambling to her feet, she took his hand.

“Come, you must be hungry,” she tugged him towards the kitchen.

He followed her obediently, but soon protested. “No, I had a sandwich a few hours ago. I’m not hungry.”

She turned to face him, her eyes concerned. “You’re sure?”

“Mm.” He nodded, closed his eyes, and pulled her tightly into a bear hug. “All I need is to go to bed and get some sleep with my wife close by my side, in my arms,” he murmured into her neck.

“Then come.”

She gently disentangled from his embrace, took his hand again, and led him to the bedroom.

She pushed him to sit down on the bed and started undressing him. When he was left wearing only his slacks, she whispered, “Remove your trousers and I’ll bring you a t-shirt.” She still felt very hesitant about touching him below his waist. Not that it hadn’t ever crossed her mind.

When she came back with his t-shirt she found him sprawled on his back, already sleeping. She picked his slacks up from the floor and folded them neatly, hanging them over the chair. She gave up the idea of putting the t-shirt on him, knowing she couldn’t handle his heavy frame. She removed his socks and threw the bed covers over him. Next she went back to turn off the TV and made sure that the front door was locked.

She slipped under the covers carefully not to disturb him. But the moment she laid down, he rolled over and pulled her to him.

“Don’t go,” he whispered, his lips captured hers.

He tasted of too many cups of coffee. Soon his lips moved from hers, and his face buried in the crook of her throat. Amy drew the covers over both of them, and closed her eyes.

Chapter Ten

“It’s a shame it’s dark already. You can’t see the ocean,” Amy noted wistfully.

She inhaled the ocean’s cool breeze through the open window of the SUV that Jake had rented at the Portland airport.

“You’ll see it first thing tomorrow morning.” Jake smiled at her, and accelerated. “I’ve been assured our suite overlooks the ocean.”

“Don’t speed up,” Amy cautioned wearily.

“I won’t,” he instantly denied.

“But you do,” she stated, sending him one of her
I know better
glares.

The issue of speed was a constant source of disagreement between them, actually since the first time they’d been together in the car and he had driven. Amy always thought he drove too fast, while he insisted he was just confident.

Jake shook his head sighing with exasperation but at the same time eased his foot off the gas.

Obviously pleased, she smiled at him and said. “I’m glad we decided to come here.”

“Me too,” he assured her warmly, but without taking his eyes from the road.

Amy glanced at him worriedly. “But is it really ok for you to leave everything for the whole weekend after what happened last Wednesday?” she asked referring to the accident at the building site which had taken place a few days ago.

“It’s fine.” His tone indicated self-assurance, “All the work there has stopped till the next week, till I hire a new site manager. There’s no doubt next week will be very busy and I deserve a few moments of peace with my wife.” He glanced at her, his eyes enveloping her in an unspoken caress.

Amy blushed and smiled shyly, before she turned her face away from him. “Look, I think we’re here.” She peered curiously out the window.

Jake slowed the car and leaned over her. “Yeah, it must be it.” He turned into the driveway leading into the well lit white sprawling building.

“It hardly looks like a seacoast cottage,” she noted dryly on entering the elegant lobby. Their bags had been carried upstairs and the car taken to the parking lot.

“Had you counted on one?” Jake asked in a lowered voice as they were approaching the reception desk. “Especially knowing Claire.”

Amy didn’t manage to answer that because she heard her father’s voice crying. “Pumpkin, at last!” In the next moment she was in Thomas Carpenter’s arms.

“Daddy, I missed you so,” Amy whispered, and clung to her father, fighting away tears which instantly came to her eyes, “How are you?” she asked as she took a step from him to have a better look at him.

“I’m good, Amy. I’m good. Don’t I look better?” he smiled, pushing his chest forward.

“You do, Daddy, you really do,” Amy whispered, and she meant it.

The hollow look on his face was gone, as well as the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed well rested and even slightly tanned.

“Amy, no crying,” Thomas chided her, referring to the tears which brimmed his daughter’s eyes. “There’s nothing to cry about.” He turned to his son-in-law who had just come up behind his daughter. “I swear Jake that this girl always had eyes like a watering pot.”

Jake smiled, his arm wrapped around Amy. “I don’t mind.” his lips brushed gently against the top of her head. “It’s good to see you in such good shape, Thomas.” He extended his hand to the older man.

“You too, son.” Thomas all but beamed, shaking the other man’s hand. “I hope she hasn’t given you too much hell during these first few weeks.” he said knowingly as he glanced at his daughter.

Amy frowned and pouted. “Dad.”

But Jake only chuckled softly. “It’s been just fine,” he assured, “Right, sweetheart?” he murmured tenderly as he gathered his wife even closer and gazed down into her hazel eyes.

Amy blinked several times, but didn’t break the eye contact, too enthralled to react to this outward display of tenderness from her husband.

But if she’d looked at her father, she would have seen his pleased expression.

“You’re here!” Amy winced when she heard Claire’s characteristic drawl and the clack of her stiletto shoes against the tile floor. “Thomas was worried you got lost somewhere.”

“We’re fine,” Jake said calmly. “Hello, Claire, nice to see you,” he offered politely, nodding his head, but not making any other gesture to greet her.

“Oh, you too, Jake,” Claire cooed, batting her eyelashes.

“Hello, Claire,” Amy said coolly, her eyes narrowed.

“Amy, daaarling,” Claire drawled. “What a surprise to hear about your wedding!” she exclaimed, her lips spread in a wide smile. She placed two effusive kisses on the cheeks of her stepdaughter, only seven years younger than herself. “That was totally unexpected, you getting married, and in Las Vegas, without telling anybody about it,” she pouted. “Not even inviting the closest family,” she chided, her impossibly long nailed finger wagging threateningly in front of Amy’s face. “That is not done.”

“Actually Claire, Las Vegas was my idea, I wanted to have her all to myself.” Jake looked tenderly down at his wife.

“But of course, Jake.” Claire smiled sweetly at him, and pursed her pink lips. “Of course, I understand, it’s so romantic.” She turned to Amy. “You look pale, dear,” Claire noted with concern and patted her cheek. “You should get some rest.”

“That’s a good idea. We’ll refresh ourselves before dinner,” Jake said quickly.

He took in his wife’s tightly pressed lips and stiff posture, deciding it was high time to leave the scene.

“The food here is really good,” Thomas agreed, clearly oblivious to the undercurrents between his wife and daughter. “Let’s say we meet in half an hour in a restaurant,” he suggested.

Jake glanced at Amy. “I think forty-five minutes,” he said already taking Amy’s hand and leading her towards the staircase. “That would be nine o’clock sharp.”

Lifting his hand, Thomas cried. “Great, nine o’clock.”

“Did you hear her?” Amy murmured furiously as soon as they were out of earshot. “She’s getting more horrible every time I have the misfortune of seeing her.”

Jake held her hand firmly till they reached their suite. “Yes, I heard her,” he acknowledged calmly as he inserted the card into the door. “But you shouldn’t be surprised. She was her usual self.”

He opened the door, letting her inside.

“Arghhhh.” Amy groaned. She lifted her hands to her head and started pacing the room. “I still cannot believe how my father could marry someone like her!”

“But he did,” Jake said matter-of-factly, as he removed his jacket and threw it on the chair. With a tired sigh, he half lounged on the bed, and closed his eyes.

Amy didn’t stop her pacing. “I know that he did, but please can you explain this to me. Why an intelligent, sensitive man could twice in his life marry such parasites? First my mother who left him without a word with two small children, and now this blond bimbo who cares more about the state of her manicure than of his health. I simply don’t get it.”

Jake sat up, reached for his wife, caught her hand, and pulled her down on the bed beside him.

“I really don’t know what your father was thinking when he married your mother and later Claire.” He smoothed his hand over her arm. “But there must have been something in them that he liked and found attractive enough to make him commit himself to marrying them.”

“But you said yourself that you and my father have much in common. Does it mean that you could imagine yourself marrying someone like Claire, as well?” Amy insisted.

Jake chuckled softly. “I really can’t imagine anything like that. She’s not my type.”

Amy leaned against him more comfortably. “I hate to think this, but perhaps Daddy married her only because he’s physically attracted to her.”

“That’s possible.”

Amy looked up at him. “Think so?”

Jake shrugged. “Sure. One thing I cannot imagine for any man is to willingly marry a woman he wouldn’t want to sleep with,” he conceded. “The desire to get laid is a very important factor in making a commitment to a woman for most men.”

Amy stared at him with a heavy frown. “What about companionship, friendship, mutual interest, and respect?”

“Sure, that’s important too,” he agreed easily.

There was a long pause before she dared to ask. “You mean that when you came with the idea to marry me it was only because you wanted to...” she glanced down at his crouch meaningfully.

“No, of course not. No one wants to be with some cold bitch with a personality that sucks, especially not someone my age.” His arms contracted around her waist, his face burying into her neck when he spoke tenderly. “And please don’t doubt yourself, sweetheart. There are tons of things that one can fall in love with in you; your sweetness, caring nature, your intelligence and integrity, honesty, the fact you’re fun to be around. But at the same time it doesn’t change the fact that had I not wanted to sleep with you, the idea of marriage wouldn’t have come to my head in the first place.”

Amy gave him a doubtful look. “Is it not superficial?”

“No, it’s honest,” he stressed, pushed her gently from him, and stood up. “I think that a woman should never trust a guy who says that he loves her and wants to be with her, but doesn’t want to get into her panties. Such an attitude is weird and sucks. It’s unnatural even. It can indicate that the guy has some serious issues with himself that he has to deal with first before starting a relationship with a woman, or that there are different reasons behind his interest in her, money for example.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, biting on her lower lip. “But you never insisted on...” she started hesitantly, “You know, you never really tried to push me into making love, never even tried to really seduce me.”

A soft low chuckle escaped him, his warm expression enveloping her. “And you think that’s it’s because I don’t want to.”

With a shake of her head, she met his eyes. “No, I think that you do, I felt more than once that you do,” she managed smoothly, referring to the numerous times when she’d felt or seen him having an erection when she’d been close to him. “But still you never try to do more.”

“Let’s get this straight,” he said and cupped her face. “Yes, I do want to, but I want to be sure that when the time comes, you do it for the right reasons.”

“Such as?”

“There’s only one reason really.” He paused, before he kissed her lips softly and whispered into them. “I want you to want me.”

Her eyes followed him when he stood up and strode to the bathroom. She stayed on the bed where he left her not moving, her expression void of emotion, her arms crossed over her middle. God, he was a smart guy, seemed to be sensitive enough too, and she really had little choice but to admire how he handled himself in this situation.

“Hey.” She felt his hand touching her arm lightly after a while. “It’s getting late. We need to get dressed.”

She rolled her eyes and murmured with a weary sigh. “It’s all I can dream of now, dressing up to have a dinner with my stepmother.”

He sat next to her and his big hands rested heavily on her shoulders. “For your own good you have to learn to tolerate her. She’s not that bad when you stop paying attention to her.”

Amy narrowed her eyes. “You’re defending her?” she demanded.

Jake closed the space between them again and pulled her into his arms.

“No, I’m only saying you won’t change her.” He combed the hair falling on her face gently away. “She’s not worth your nerves, your apprehension. Intelligence is perhaps not Claire’s strongest point, but like every living creature she can feel when she’s succeeded in putting you down, and she uses it against you, even if subconsciously.”

“I know you’re right,” she whispered, snuggling closer to him. “But it’s so hard to do. I don’t have strength to deal with her on top of all this.”

“I know it must be hard for you, but for your own good you must ignore her.” Jake’s voice was patient as he stroked her back through her denim jacket. “Show her that you don’t care, and that she’s nothing more than a bothersome acquaintance. Claire needs to see that she can’t hurt you.”

“Easy to say,” she said grudgingly, lifting her head from his chest. “I don’t want to go out and eat dinner with her.” She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. “I feel a headache coming on,” she announced, moved from him, and curled herself on the bed with her back to him.

He sat next to her. “You cannot let Claire put you into such a state with her senseless remarks. You have to tolerate her for your father’s sake.” He sounded as if he was explaining something to a child. “She’s not your mother, she’s not your friend, and you don’t have to make friends with her.”

Amy sighed, turned to him, and murmured miserably, “Father would wish me to.”

“I don’t think that he really expects that,” Jake said slowly. “He must have known you didn’t like her when he married her.”

“I never said it openly.”

“Come on, he’s not blind. You moved out from home before she started living there,” Jake pointed out reasonably.

Amy sat up and hugged her knees to her chest.

“I just can’t understand what he sees in her,” she whispered bitterly. “She’s just like my mother. One day she will leave him with empty pockets and a broken heart.”