by Amy Rose
“What are your plans for the house once it’s completed? Will you be selling it or keeping it?” I am hoping for an answer that will involve seeing him more.
“At this stage I’m going to keep it as a vacation home,” he replies. That is the response I have been hoping for and I smile. I know that he sees it. “It will give me somewhere to stay when I come visit you. Somewhere more comfortable and spacious than a hotel room.” And there it is, a confirmation that he is doing it all for me.
~ Chapter Twenty-Three ~
The remainder of the night goes by far too quickly. Especially when the hours are limited to begin with and confessions are being made about feelings. After we have finished discussing the house plans it was decided that we would watch a movie in the main living area. Around half an hour into ‘Pride and Prejudice’ Elliot fell asleep on the couch next to me. I snatched the throw from the armchair to my left and gently laid it over him.
I can just stay here beside him and finish the movie all the while watching him sleep, or I can leave him to sleep peacefully and make my escape, returning to the guest house. I think about my options for a good fifteen minutes or so before deciding that I should return to the guest house and leave him be.
I stand up and bend over his sleeping form to give him a kiss on the cheek. I know I am making the right decision when he doesn’t wake from my touch. I quickly exit the home the same way we had come in earlier and make my way across the patio and lawn to the guest house. I let myself in with the key Elliot had given me earlier in the day, lock the door behind me and quickly wander into the bedroom. I quickly undress and slip into my satin nightgown. Once dressed, I pad into the bathroom and brush my teeth, twice. I then rake a brush through my hair and make my way back into the bedroom.
I pull back the covers and slip in between the cotton sheets, into bed. I pick up my phone from the bedside table and quickly send Elliot a message. I don’t want him to worry when he wakes to find me missing.
<: You looked so adorable sleeping I couldn’t wake you. I’m back in the guest house now. Thank you for a wonderful evening. Angie x
I hit send and put my phone back down on the bedside table. Turning off the lamp and rolling over. Replaying all of the moments from today. Why is it that every day spent with Elliot is full of surprises? I just can’t think of there ever being a dull day when in his company. I have to admit that I love it. Settling on my standout memories of the day, the kissing. I settle into the feather pillow, awaiting sleep to take me.
I wake to the smell of toast cooking. As I open my eyes, I can see the sun is starting to shine through the blinds. Immediately noticing that I was not in my own apartment. I panic for a moment before remembering where I am. I’m safe in Elliot’s guest house.
I throw the covers back from myself and hop out of bed. Wandering out into the kitchen, there is Elliot, standing before the toaster, staring at it. He looks up when I enter the room. He must have heard the bedroom door open or my feet on the timber floor. “Good morning beautiful.” He walks around the island counter toward me and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek.
It was only then that I remember I am only wearing a nightgown. A nightgown that, although it covers my body, is also just that. One piece of fabric, with only panties on underneath. I look down toward my chest to see that my nipples had also realized that I was not alone and had decided to make themselves visible. I feel so self-conscious that I automatically raise my arms to hug them around the top of my arms, covering my traitorous breasts.
It appears Elliot isn’t looking at my nightgown. Just my face, for which I feel immediately appreciative. “I’m making you toast.” He shrugs and looks shy. “I’m not a good cook. So if you want something else, I can get Andrew to rustle us up something” he says.
I have to admit that this is incredibly sweet. Cooking me breakfast. Even if it is just toast. “Sounds delicious. I’ll just quickly go freshen up and I’ll be right back”. I turn around and walk as fast as I can back into the sanctuary of the bedroom. I rifle through my bag and grab my cardigan out. quickly putting it on. This at least covered my top half. Ducking into the bathroom, I throw my hair into a messy bun and wipe the sleep from the corners of my eyes, deciding brushing my teeth would be a bit much, especially when I was about to eat. I rinse quickly with mouthwash.
Returning to the living area, I wander into the kitchen and open the fridge. Inside I see that it is almost completely stocked with eggs, milk, cheese, butter, cream, bacon, and some other items that I wouldn’t need.
“I can make some scrambled eggs for us if you like?” I look towards Elliot. “You think you can handle the toast?” I ask with a smile across my face.
He nods in response. A smile spreading across his lips. “That I can do”. I start collecting the ingredients from the fridge and placing them on the countertop. I collect a knife and whisk from the drawer beside the sink and then a cutting board from its rack on the counter beside the stove. I then look into the large pantry cupboard that doubled as storage for the larger kitchen items and find a mixing bowl along with a frypan. With everything laid out in front of me I am ready to go.
I cut the bacon into thin strips before dicing them and whisk the eggs together with cream, adding a small amount of salt and pepper. I add some oil to the frypan and await it to heat before tossing in the bacon and cooking it until it is nice and crispy. Next, I pour the egg mixture in with the bacon, stirring all the time to ensure it doesn’t stick, creating scrambled eggs as opposed to an omelet. When it is almost completely cooked, I add some grated mozzarella cheese, giving it the chance to melt through.
“Elliot. Could you please grab two plates for me?” I ask.
He must have been anticipating being asked this question, as he places two warm plates next to me within a couple of seconds. “I’ve got you covered, baby.” I place an even amount of the scrambled egg and bacon mixture onto each plate. Elliot then places a piece of buttered toast on each. We collect our plates and take them to the opposite side of the island and prepare ourselves to sit down at the breakfast bar.
“I forgot the orange juice” Elliot jumps up, barely having sat down and walks to the fridge and retrieves the bottle. He pulls out two glasses from one of the overhead cupboards and pours us each a glass. After placing the orange juice back in the refrigerator, he wanders back over toward where I sit and places a glass down in front of my plate. He then takes his seat beside me, picks up his cutlery, forks some scrambled egg onto the bread and takes a bite.
“Mmmhmmm” I hear him murmur. “That’s good, Angie.” He gives me a pat on the shoulder.
I smile to myself. “I’m glad you like it.” It’s only scrambled eggs, I think to myself. It is good to be complimented on my cooking, especially when I’m not that good of a cook myself. I must remember to thank Liam for showing me this easy breakfast recipe. We both eat quietly. When we have finished, he grabs both of our plates and cutlery and takes them to the sink. He rinses them, then places them into the dishwasher, along with our now empty glasses and the many items we used to cook with, adds a dishwashing tablet and turns it on.
“So, what did you want to do today?” He asks. Truth be told, I have no idea what to do today. And I sure as hell don’t know what there is to do around his neighborhood. It is his weekend and he had invited me, maybe I should ask if he has made any plans?
“I’m not sure. Do you have any ideas?” I ask.
“We can go out if you like and do some sightseeing? Or we can go do some shopping if you would prefer?” He offers.
“You want to go shopping? Like for clothes?” I ask. I don’t know a male alive who enjoys shopping.
“I would be happy with either one. I could probably get some new clothes if you wanted to go to the shops?” He was leaving it up to me.
I didn’t really have enough money to buy any new clothes, but I do need to get a postcard for James. “Sure, Sounds good. We can grab some lunch while we’re out,” I suggest.
“Ah thanks. An hour will be good”
Before leaving he leans in and presses his delectable, soft lips against my own. Just as I start to open my mouth he pulls away. “See you soon beautiful.” He turns on his heels and walks out the door. And all I can do is look after him.
~ Chapter Twenty- Four ~
Elliot was back in no time. Luckily, I had showered shortly after he had left, giving myself plenty of time to get dressed. I chose to wear my jeans and a pink sweater again, since we had stayed home last night and I had only worn them for a couple of hours. I was finishing applying my second coat of mascara when I heard him call out to me. “Angie, you ready to go, babe?”
“Coming,” I replied. I quickly inserted the mascara wand back into the barrel and tightened it, I picked up my perfume and sprayed once on the wrist and I also sprayed it once in front of myself, quickly walking through the mist as to catch on my clothing. I placed the perfume back down and touched my wrists to spread the fragrance. I looked in the mirror once more, satisfied with the reflection looking back at me, and turned on my heel to meet him.
The moment I enter the living area, I can tell he is eyeing my outfit. I feel a little embarrassed, “I know, I wore this last night, I only packed two outfits, and since I only wore it for a short time…” I trail off not really knowing what to say next.
“You look great Angela, perfect for our day out,” he said as he crosses the room to me in four long strides.
“Come. I have the car waiting for us” he offers his hand to me.
“Sounds good. I’ve just got to grab my handbag. I’ll be back in a second.” I quickly dart back into the bedroom, scooping my cell phone from its place on the nightstand and throw it into my handbag. I check that my wallet is inside, and return to Elliot. He had placed his hand into his pocket. Feeling brave, I quickly slip my hand onto his wrist. Feeling the incentive, he pulls his hand out and slips it into mine. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go,” I smile.
We walk out the front door and that’s when I see the car. Not the black Mercedes we arrived in yesterday. No, this is an older car. It is a classic, that I knew for certain. It is cherry red, with two white speed stripes down the length. And it is beautiful.
“I can’t be sure, but that looks to me like a Cadillac?” I ask. I was pretty sure of myself, but I thought it best to act uncertain and ask just in case. Men tend to be pretty proud of their automobiles.
“I can’t believe you know older cars. It sure is a caddy. It’s actually a 1955 Cadillac Eldorado, to be exact. It was my grandfather’s car. He bought her brand new, when she first came out. Only he and I have ever driven her.” I laugh internally as Elliot refers to the car as a she. I also notice that even though he is talking to me he is somewhere else. In the midst of a memory, no doubt.
I wander toward the beautiful car before me. There is absolutely no way this paint is original. It’s too glossy. A car that is over half a century old cannot look anywhere as new as the car parked in front of me does. Looking through the window I can see that the interior appears to be in the same condition. I open the passenger door and notice the beautiful, crisp, white leather seats with red stitching. No fingerprints on the steering wheel or the dashboard. “Has this car ever been driven? And I don’t mean just downtown?” I had to ask.
He chuckles a little at my question. “Yes, it has. But not very often. It has less than 5000 miles on the odometer. I’m responsible for maybe 1500 of them” he replies.
I pull the upper half of my body back out of the car, closing the door with a heavy thump. I step away from the car, running my eyes over the lines of the classic vehicle. This is the car I had pictured Elliot loving. A car that fits in with his love of all things old.
“We can’t go taking this beautiful car into New York. It would get scratched and I can’t have that on my conscience.” It was true. If we parked in a parking lot and someone opened a door onto it or some jealous person keyed it, I would never be able to forgive myself.
“Why don’t we go for a drive instead, then? I can show you around this area, and if we still feel like shopping later, we can take the SUV?” Elliot asks.
Happy with his plan I agree. “That sounds perfect.” And it was true. I was happy to be going for a ride in Elliot’s Cadillac, but I was incredibly relieved to know that we wouldn’t be stopping anywhere this car could be damaged.
We both hop into the vehicle. The feel of the soft leather against my body is very comfortable. Elliot pushes the key into the ignition and turns. The engine comes to life right away. Just like a brand new motor would. Not something that our grandparents used to drive around in before we were even thought of. It wasn’t an overly loud or offensive motor, for which I was thankful. There is nothing worse than those motors that sound like a jet plane. Why do you need something that loud? I mean if you’re part of NASCAR, then fair enough, but not on the streets, people!
I know that even with this car being relatively quiet, it would still gain interest and get people’s attention. People would still look as this baby drove down the road. How do I know this? Easy. If I weren’t in the car and instead one of the hypothetical people on the street, I would be having a good look. Possibly even pulling out my cell phone to take a photo as it drove by.
We are at the end of the driveway now. Elliot turns onto the road. We are on our way to somewhere. I wasn’t going to worry though, it was Elliot’s day. I’m going to go with the flow. Wherever we end up is completely fine with me.
I relax into my seat and allow myself a quick glance at Elliot. The way he was dressed today almost matches the car, as if this car were made for this exact outfit. He is wearing a pair of grey slacks, the ones with the crease down the front, a black belt with a silver buckle, white leather wingtips, and a white Polo shirt with the little polo player embroidered in red and the underside of his collar the matching tone.
He has his sunglasses on, covering those beautiful blue eyes. His left hand is on the wheel, while his right-hand rests on his thigh. He cuts an impressive figure, even now, sitting in a car doing an action that most people do every day, driving a vehicle. And yet to me, he looks incredibly cool and sexy. I don’t look that comfortable when I drive my car. I am one of those people who always maintains two hands on the steering wheel. And when I turn a corner, I employ the ten and two o’clock method. Safety first for me, in everything I do.
Tearing my gaze away from Elliot. I settle myself completely into the leather seat and look out the window, eyeing the mansions as we drive on by. Some are older homes like Elliot’s, others are newer construction. They all had something in common though. They appear to be on large lots and are incredibly large homes. They are all stunning, even though my personal preference is an older home that has been remodeled. I do see one home that is completely modern architecture, clean lines, stacker stone to the front.
I am enjoying myself immensely. There are no expectations. No questions. We are just two people enjoying each other’s company, while driving around in a highly collectible car. I turn my attention away from the outside of the vehicle and back toward the main attraction. Not moving too quickly, I turn my head slightly, only wanting to catch a glimpse of him for the moment. He still has one hand on the wheel and the other resting on his leg. He sure is beautiful.
Before I can stop myself. I reach out with my left arm and place my hand on top of his. I make sure to keep my body facing forwards, my head looking straight ahead. That way if he turns to face me, I won’t know.
He moves his hand, lifting in so his palm is now facing up, allowing my hand to then fall back into place on his. He holds it and then gently, I feel him squeeze my fingers. I turn to look at him and I notice he is smiling. His completely carefree smile.
And I think to myself, what a nice way to spend the morning.
While our hands are linked, the peace and quiet of the car is only interrupted by the occasional tune on the radio, turned down very softly. My mind wanders allowing me to enjoy a daydream.
The daydream feels real. Here we are, this could be real life. We are going for a drive along a beautiful tree-lined road. A meadow in full bloom to our left, filled with flowers in so many shades, yellows, purples, oranges and blues. Hearing a little person speak from behind me I turn in my seat. Seeing our two children in the back seat and all of a sudden, we are all giggling. I turn my attention to Elliot who is sitting beside me. I see the light bouncing off his wedding band as he maintains control of the steering wheel. My own showing, when he takes my hand in his. A simple gold band. Looking at Elliot’s face I can see the beginning of some fine lines around his eyes. We must be a little older. We are happy, very happy. He opens his mouth to speak. “I love you Angela.”
I feel a tear escape my eye and as I raise my hand to quickly wipe it away, the daydream slips away. I hear Elliot speak. “Hey. Are you all right?”
I could never say that he isn’t the observant type. Even when driving a vehicle. He must be keeping his eyes on me. “Yeah. I’m perfectly fine. I was just having a daydream,” It slips out before I have a chance to stop it. Please Elliot, don’t push the subject, please, I think to myself.
“A good one?” he asks. No details Angela, just make a noise.
“Mmmhmmm”.
We sit in quiet for a moment, enjoying the feel of his hand in my own. I break the silence. “Do you want children, Elliot?”
I feel his hand tighten around mine. Immediately I regret it. As soon as the words are out of my mouth. This is a conversation for when you have been together for twelve months or more. Not on the first weekend you spend together. Way to ruin the feel-good moment, Angela. I wrack my brains, trying to think of some way to explain my question.