Storms and Dreams (Becoming Jane Book 3) (5 page)

BOOK: Storms and Dreams (Becoming Jane Book 3)
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What?
I gaped at him.
What is he doing?

“Oh, um, I’m not sure, let me just check with Julie.”

“Please do, I’ll wait.”

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

“If I have to go to this insufferably boring dinner party, I’m going to bring my own entertainment,” he said, covering the phone with his hand.

“What?”

“I want you to go with me. It’ll mean cutting our time here a bit short, though.”

“Well, that’s okay. I mean, are you sure?”

“Definitely,” he said, caressing my cheek.

Holy shit.
I thought. From
“My girl” to dinner party date in one morning.

“Tom? Tom are you there?”

“Yes, Roger, right here. Sorry. What’s the verdict?”

“Julie says that’s fine. Bring your date. We’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”

“Great. Thanks, Roger, and thank Julie for me as well.”

“Take care.”

Thomas ended the call, set the phone on the counter and rolled to face me. Propping his head up on one arm, he reached over me for a muffin, and pulled a piece from it, pushing the soft cake against my lips. I took the piece and chewed hungrily.

“So we’re going to a party,” I said.

“Looks that way,” he said, musing as he chewed on a piece of muffin. “This is a really good muffin, by the way. Scrumptious.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, swallowing. “I don’t have a tux here, we’ll have to shop.”

“Oh well, twist my arm. Like all women, I hate shopping of course.”

“I can’t wait to take you shopping,” he said, beaming at me.

“Oh psshh,” I said. “I’ve got my own money, tiger. You can go with me but, you don’t need to sponsor the trip.”

“We’ll see,” he said. “It’s my fault our weekend is being cut short after all.”

“I told you it’s fine.”

“Still, I thank you. I’ve known Julie for years, actually. I would hate to disappoint her. Roger, I couldn’t give a toss about.”

I laughed and stole a bite of muffin.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said.

“Like you made up the phone call to me just now?”

“Absolutely. I promised. And I always keep my promises.”

“I thought you meant after the phone call, you cad!” I said, pushing at his chest. “Not during!”

“Yeah, but it was more fun that way,” he drawled. “Although, you are loud, I nearly had to push the mute button.”

“Oh my god,” I said, my head falling onto his chest.

This man is going to be the death of me.

S
ay something
.
My head shouted at me.
For the love of God say anything!

I was covered once again in his dress shirt. He still wore his trousers, and little else but a smile. A smile that had been trained on me for what felt like an eternity. We’d sat there, eating our breakfast, sending an escalating series of furtive glances and grins over the kitchen table at each other. At first the silence was natural, we were eating after all, but cups had been emptied and napkins laid down. We still stared, and smiled. I glanced up at the clock on the opposite wall. We’d been at this stupid smiling contest for about fifteen minutes now. Enough was enough.

“Our first awkward silence,” I said, laughing nervously as I sipped my coffee.

“Oh, you think so?” he asked archly.

“Yes. You don’t?”

“I don’t know. I thought it more, stimulating, than awkward.”

“Oh come on,” I said, setting my coffee down.

“Well alright, I’ll concede it’s not the most comfortable silence we’ve enjoyed together.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head with a laugh.

“Come here,” he said. Scooting back his chair from the table, he beckoned me to sit on his lap. “What’s on your mind?”

I stood up and crossed to him, taking a seat on his lap with my arms draped around his shoulders. I ran a hand over his chest, his skin soft, smooth and warm, his muscles twitching under my touch.

“Tell me,” he said. “Is something troubling you?”

“No, nothing. I’m not troubled,” I said, my gaze lowering to follow the movements of my fingers as I traced circles on his chest.

He was right, though. The conversation with Sasha had initially settled my nerves but now all that angst was back. She’d told me to live in the moment. But that’s just a little harder than everyone lets on. How do you live in the moment when your head can’t figure out what the moment is? My instincts told me to label and box up all my feelings neatly, to analyze everything that had happened between us so far and consider all possible angles, all likely outcomes. The problem was, all this overthinking was threatening to suck the fun right out of our morning.

“There is something,” he said. Catching my hand, he pressed my fingers to his lips and shifted, pulling my hips in tighter against him. “Tell me,” he insisted.

“It’s just…” I said quietly, my eyes locked to his fingers as they threaded through mine, his thumb caressing the back of my hand. “This has been amazing. It’s been so different than what I assumed it would be.”

“For me as well.”

“I don’t know what to think,” I said. “I mean, what is this? What are we, and where do we go from here?”

“That’s a lot of whats,” he said, his chest rumbling with laughter.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… You asked what was on my mind. That’s it. But forget it. I’m not trying to demand answers of you or anything.”

“Well, demands or no, I might have some answers I can share.”

“Really?” I scoffed, skeptical. “What?”

“I think we both know what this is, don’t we?” he said, his finger lifting my chin so that my eyes met his. “Or at least we suspect?”

I nodded.

“And that was unexpected. For both of us.”

I nodded again.

“And we seem to have agreed to avoid that topic for now. Clever or cowardly, depending on perspective, I suppose.”

I laughed softly, and he grinned at me.

“As for the other matters: What are we, and where do we go from here? I think what we are is up to us entirely. We get to define that for ourselves. And I’m certain we will, in time. As to where we go from here—I believe we should take each day as it comes.”

“Right,” I said, although internally I was groaning. If one more person told me to “let life unfold” or “take each moment as it comes” I was going to puke.

“Although,” he said, “to that end, we’ve already failed.”

“Failed?” I asked, frowning at him.

“Well, we skipped a day, didn’t we? We’ve got tomorrow figured out, seeing as I committed us to that ghastly party.”

“And shopping,” I said.

“And shopping,” he conceded. “But that leaves nothing for today other than idle boredom and more awkward silences.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I laughed, pushing at his chest.

“I mean I admit, I had planned to continue fucking you senseless for most of the day. But now, those plans seem simple in comparison to tomorrow’s glamorous itinerary. I’m thinking I need to rethink.” His grin was wry, and his eyes twinkled as he lifted my fingers, brushing a soft kiss over my knuckles.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Hmmm, how can I top a stuffy dinner party? A stroll along the beach? Maybe a picnic? What do you think?”

“That sounds nice. But it’s really cold outside.”

“Nonsense!” he said. Securing one arm under my legs, he lifted me and rose from his chair. “You’ve assured me you love the beach in wintertime. I think a vigorous hike over the dunes is just the sort of adventure that we need to set you right.”

“Good Lord. I can walk, you know,” I said, sighing as he carried me down the hallway to the bedroom. “Are you just going to carry me around all weekend?”

“Possibly.” He grinned down at me. “I like how you feel in my arms.”

I buried my head in his chest and sighed again. “So do I.”


C
an I ask a question
?” I tried to sound casual as we padded together, bundled in boots and scarves and puffy coats, over a downy carpet of snow to a stretch of beach along the water’s edge.

“Anything,” he said, extending a leather-gloved hand to help me over a boulder and onto the sand.

“Why is it okay to take me to this party tomorrow? Aren’t you afraid of people finding out that I was a student at the college?”

“Not really. At this point, while it may raise a few eyebrows, it won’t be a problem.”

“Because I’ve graduated?”

“Exactly.”

“But what if they think that we were sleeping together before then?”

“Well, some people may think that. For me, it doesn’t matter. I stopped caring what people thought of me a long time ago. But I would not like it if they treat you differently because of a false assumption. So you tell me, how would you like to handle it? If it comes up?”

“Oh God.” I laughed. “I’ve been through worse. Tell them, don’t tell them. I don’t care what they think.”

“Alright. Well, I say if asked, we stick to a simple version of the truth. We met at the university pool and met again later after you graduated.”

“With a few detours in between,” I said, laughing, and slipped my arm through his. “You know, the strip club, the laundromat, my apartment.”

“Nobody’s business but our own.”

“But then, why all the cloak and dagger? I thought all of that was because you were worried about our reputations?”

“I was. While you were still a student. But it was more than that. I needed the teacher-student dynamic to die before I could let anything happen. I couldn’t be with you if the only attraction between us was based on that. I told you, I don’t think it’s healthy. I can’t respect those sorts of relationships.”

I looked up at him, and hoped the question in my eyes would prompt him to continue.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation,” he said, sighing, stopping at a large boulder on the beach. He sat down and gestured for me to join him. “I have two younger sisters,” he said, taking my hand in his. He looked out over the sea, still choppy and disturbed from last night’s storms. “Beatrice and Caroline. Caroline graduated from university just last year.”

“She’s a lot younger than you, then.”

“Yes, she was a bit of a surprise to my parents,” he said, laughing affectionately. “I’m close to both of my sisters. I’d do anything for them, and vice versa. But I can be, according to them, over-protective at times. I suppose that’s why she kept it from me.”

“Oh no,” I said, my stomach sinking in anticipation of his next words.

“For two years she had an affair with a colleague of mine. Another professor in my department, the competitive sort. Always puffing up his chest at me about something. The affair started right after I got a commendation from our department, and he didn’t.”

“She was revenge,” I said, and this time I felt sick.

“She was. He pursued her, manipulated her, seduced her, and broke her heart. Caroline was three months pregnant when he left her for another woman.”

“Oh my god.”

“She miscarried.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” he said, his hand caressing mine. “It was awful; I was with her when it happened. She lost the baby the same night that we found out, together, who the woman was that he had left her for.”

“Oh no.” That sinking feeling was back.

“Oh yes. His revenge was thorough. Walter is currently engaged to my soon-to-be ex-wife.”

“Holy fucking fucker.”

“Definitely.”

“What kind of name is Walter?” I said, suddenly incredulous. “Who dumps
you
for a guy named Walter? Does he have an anaconda in his pants or a bajillion dollars? And actually—what the actual fuck? Because you have those things! So again, who the fuck dumps
you
for a Walter?”

“Serena, apparently. Although to be fair, we hadn’t had a marriage in years. She wasn’t dumping much.”

“Hello! Anaconda, bajillionaire. Jesus Christ.”

“So, you value me solely for my anaconda and my bajillion dollars?” he said, his voice quiet.

“No, of course not! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I was just trying to lighten things.”

“I might add, my family has the bajillions, I don’t personally.”

“No, Thomas, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I was joking. It was stupid of me,” I said, turning his face towards me so that he could see the truth in my eyes. There was only laughter in his.

“Gotcha,” he said, poking me in the ribs.

“Oh, you’re a rat!” I said, swatting his hands away. “I feel sorry for your sisters. I really do.”

His hands were everywhere. Prodding and teasing, he unzipped the front of my coat, and danced his fingers over my ribs to tickle all my sensitive spots. I shrieked and tried futilely to pry his grip from me, but he was merciless, and soon I was half sprawled across his lap, begging for mercy.

“Please,” I gasped through my laughter. “Stop, I can’t take anymore.”

“Nope,” he said. “Tit for tat or I’ll start tickling again. Tell me something horribly tragic about you.”

“About me?”

“Or your family. I’ll accept that as well. Technically my story was about my sister, really. Which by the way, keep that to yourself if you would?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’d never say anything.”

I could never betray his trust. I could never betray her trust. Even though I’d never met her, I’d never share gossip about another woman’s pain over losing a child. I shuddered at the mere thought of it, leaned against his chest, and squeezed my eyes shut.

He wanted me to share with him. And after what he’d shared with me just now, after what he’d trusted me with last night, it made sense. We were connecting, deeply, and naturally he wanted me to share too. I had something alright, but as close as I felt to him, as full as my heart was when I was in his arms, I couldn’t share that. Not now. Not yet.

“You’re cold,” he said. Gathering me to him, he rubbed my arms, and I could feel his arousal growing hard against my backside. “We should start walking again, warm you up.”

“I can think of other ways to warm up,” I teased, wiggling my bottom in his lap, hoping I could change the subject with a little flirtation.

“I just bet you can,” he laughed. “Not yet.”

BOOK: Storms and Dreams (Becoming Jane Book 3)
2.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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