“Thank you! I love to cook. And please, call me Martha.”
“I used to employ a cook many years ago,” Ted Carmichael said, patting his stomach, “but Martha insisted that she wanted to do it. I can’t deny that it was a good decision.”
“My mom always loved to cook as well. She still does a big Sunday dinner, and as many of us as possible who can make it try to get there.” Rory’s fingers added gentle pressure to Sandy’s back, sending the subtle message that a Sunday dinner at his mom’s house would soon need to happen.
“So you were born and raised in Hope City?” Ted asked.
Rory had worked through his concern about meeting Sandy’s parents, confident enough in himself to not feel like he had to be intimidated by any man. He also had a feeling that Sandy would kick someone’s ass if she felt like they were not showing him respect—even her father. But any man who cares about a woman would want her parents to think their daughter had made a good choice. The drinks and appetizers in the formal living room before dinner had mostly centered around Sandy and how her business was going, especially Partridge Tower.
Now, he recognized that the conversation was going to shift to him. He had the feeling that Martha would like him no matter what his answers were because she made it clear she adored Sandy and wanted her to be happy. He wasn’t so sure about Ted. His love for Sandy was obvious, but Rory felt certain that Ted had a different type of man in mind that would be good enough for his daughter.
“Yes, sir. My parents bought a home big enough for a large family right after my oldest brother was born. They’ve lived there ever since.”
“Oh, did they have the large family they wanted?” Martha asked, her eyes bright.
“Yes. There are six of us. Three boys and three girls.”
“Six!” Martha exclaimed, and Rory didn’t miss seeing Ted’s eyebrows raise at that number.
“Our neighbors had five kids, all about the same ages as us. We were raised like one big family, constantly running back and forth between the two houses.”
He heard a sigh escape from Sandy, and he looked toward her, her smile now sadder.
“I think that sounds amazing,” Sandy said, her gaze on him. “Certainly, you were never lonely.”
Chuckling, he nodded. “That’s for sure. There was always somebody around to play with, argue with, share chores with.”
As though he’d lost control of the conversation, Ted leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table as he held Rory’s gaze. “And your father? What business was he in?”
“Dad,” Sandy cut in, a warning expression on her face as she glared at her father. “No grilling.”
Rory squeezed her and smiled. “It’s all good, babe.” He turned his attention back to Ted. “My father was an FBI agent. Well, actually, he started as a field officer, and then became an agent. Then he worked his way up to an administrative position. He retired not too long ago due to a mild heart attack. But he still stays active in his church and community, especially with my two brothers who went into law enforcement.”
He could see Ted was going to continue asking questions, so he decided to go ahead and give him the rundown on his family. “So, my father worked for the government and my mother was a bookkeeper. My oldest brother is an Arson Detective for Hope City and my next oldest brother is a Detective with the Drug Task Force. They both served in the Army, then came back and joined the Police Department. I was a combat medic in the Army, discharged not too long ago after two tours in Afghanistan, and I worked as an EMT, then became certified as a paramedic. I also work for Hope City. My oldest sister is a social worker who runs one of the city’s homeless shelters. My youngest sister is a high school teacher. And I have a twin sister who was an Army combat medic as well. She’s now an LPN working for an advanced degree. She also worked for one of the free clinics, but it recently shut down, and she’s working for both a doctor’s office and with the Department of Social Services.”
He continued to hold Ted’s gaze and added, “My parents are still together, married all these years. They were strict, but my upbringing was fun. Solid middle-class. Sometimes loud. Often in each other’s business. But I was raised with love, and it showed in everything my parents did. And I’m not ashamed to say that I love my job, I’m good at it, and I know I’m helping people. And if I’m lucky enough to get married, I plan on raising my children and loving my wife the way I was taught.”
He wasn’t sure he’d ever said that many words to someone all at one time, but he wanted to get all of that out and on the table. If Ted Carmichael wasn’t going to like him, there was no reason to beat around the bush.
Sandy’s hand had been resting on his leg, and her fingers clenched, drawing his attention. Her warm eyes were wide, moisture gathering in them, her mouth curved into a sweet smile before mouthing, “I love you.”
“Wow,” Martha breathed from across the table. Her hand had reached out to rest across Ted’s forearm, and Rory could see that her fingers were squeezing as well. Her face mirrored Sandy’s, and she said, “I think that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Don’t you think so, Ted?”
He swung his gaze back to Ted, uncertain that the wealthy businessman would admit that another man’s honest proclamation about his family would be the most beautiful thing he’d heard. Ted’s face was unreadable, and Rory felt a trickle of unease that perhaps his burst of family description had been the right thing to do.
Then, slowly, Ted smiled. Tentative at first, then wider. And Rory watched as Sandy’s father offered a crooked smile, and he chuckled in return. It seems Sandy gained more from her father than just business acumen.
They made their way into the comfortable family room, where the atmosphere—as well as the conversations—were much more casual. Sandy was snuggled next to him on the sofa, and after a while, he noticed she continued to yawn. Giving her a squeeze, he turned to Martha and Ted. “I hate to end the evening, but I think it’s time I took her home.”
Martha retrieved their coats, then she and Sandy stood near the front door, heads bent together chatting.
He shook Ted’s hand. “Thanks for a nice evening.”
Ted’s handshake was firm but congenial. “I can see my daughter is happy. She talks about you in glowing terms, and I can see why.”
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.”
Sandy walked over and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side as they said their last goodbyes.
22
With her head tilted back to the ceiling, Sandy felt the ends of her long hair tickle her lower back near where Rory’s hands were squeezing her ass. Lifting and plunging, she bit her lip as she rode him. The covers were a tangle on the bed, and Ocee had been unceremoniously shut out of the bedroom. Their clothes were tossed onto the floor in puddles.
Her inner muscles gripped his cock, and she dropped her chin, pinning him with her heated look. He shifted his hands to her breasts, tweaking her nipples. When her release hit, her fingers dug into the thick muscles of his shoulders. Crying out his name, her body shook with the explosion of tremors that rocked from their physical connection deep inside her core to her extremities.
He followed immediately after, his fingers almost bruising as they moved back to her ass, digging into the flesh. His head pressed against the pillow, his teeth clenched, and he groaned out his release, his pulsing cock emptying deep inside her core.
She flopped boneless onto his chest, grinning as a grunt left his lungs. “Death by electrocution.”
“What?”
Lifting her head, she smiled down at him. “Didn’t you feel it? The electricity that was firing all over my body.”
He chuckled, causing her body to move along with his. “I admit I saw stars behind my eyelids. Never thought about electrocution, though. What a way to go.”
As their mirth slowed, she dragged her finger along his stubble, tracing the planes of his face. Strong jaw. Kissable mouth. Straight nose. B
lue eyes. Her finger moved over his lips before she settled her mouth over his again. She mumbled, “I think I could kiss you all day.”
“Good by me.” As soon as his mumbled response was out, he placed one hand on the back of her head and took the kiss deeper. Long strokes with his tongue caused her to squirm, the tingling in her core increasing again.
Finally, they separated, and he sighed. “Hate to move, but I’ve got to deal with the condom.”
Nodding, she rolled off him and stayed snuggled under the covers until he returned. He slid back into bed and curled her into him. With her head resting on his chest, she hesitated for a moment then spoke tentatively. “So, was my family dinner a lot different than yours?” He chuckled, and she loved not only the sound but the feel of his body shaking with laughter.
“You know my family. Large. Loud. Loving. Throw in the Kings next door, and it was even more large, loud, and loving.”
“That sounds nice.” She heard the wistfulness in her voice.
“Yeah, it was. But that didn’t mean it was always easy. Especially for the youngest son.”
She lifted her head and held his gaze, wanting to know more. “Tell me.” He hesitated and she encouraged, “I want to know all about you, Rory. Everything.” He shifted slightly, and she settled with her hand on his chest, giving him time to consider his thoughts.
“I remember the first night I met you when Harper made a comment about Sean. He was and is the quintessential oldest brother. In many ways, he’s the most like Dad. Responsible. He was a great athlete in school, but also in the math honor society. Smart. Tenacious. And I think he knew from the time he was born he wanted to be in law enforcement. Kyle? He was always a bit of a wildcard. He was the one who’d buck Mom and Dad’s rules just to see what he could get away with. Just as athletic and smart as Sean, he liked going his own way, and I think Mom lit many candles in church praying that he wouldn’t end up on the other side of the law. I can’t imagine how many Hail Marys she said when he decided to join the police force.”
That image caused her to laugh, and she squeezed his waist, soaking up all the information about his family.
“Me? I was easygoing but always wanted to go my own way. Dad was an investigator for the FBI. Sean and Kyle were in the military police and then came back to become detectives.” Shrugging, he said, “I can’t explain it, but I didn’t want to join the police force. I like the idea of being in the medical field, but I had no desire to become a doctor. Maybe I just like the idea of rushing into the unknown. Each day as a medic was different, and I knew when I got to someone, I had to act fast… think on my feet… respond instantly. My actions could mean the difference between someone living or dying. The look in someone’s eyes when they’re injured and they realize you’re there. It’s like they breathe a little easier because, in their worst moment, they know someone’s going to help them.” He blushed and gave a quick head shake as though embarrassed. “Anyway, I’m now doing what I love.”
“You’re amazing, Rory,” she blurted, holding his gaze, her admiration flowing. Desperate to know more, she asked, “And your sisters?”
He smiled, obviously glad to brag on them. “Tara was much like Sean. She was always a mother hen when Mom was busy. Of course, Caitlyn’s the baby and will probably always be seen that way by the rest of us.”
“And Erin? What was it like being a twin?”
He was quiet for a moment, but she was more than willing to let him take his time thinking. His family was so different from hers, she found it fascinating.
“You hear so much about identical twins always being on the same wavelength,” he began. “But even fraternal twins can be. Even with older brothers and a sister around, Erin was always part of me. Sounds weird, I guess. Maybe the whole sharing the womb experience is true. I know that girls develop faster than boys, but it seems like Erin waited on me.”
She lifted her head and stared at him, scrunching her nose. “Waited on you? Okay, that’s going to take a little more explanation.”
“Of course, this is before my memories, but Mom used to say that Erin could already talk but generally babbled until I finally said my first word. Then, it was as though she was teaching me. Erin also pulled herself up and started walking before me, but generally just sat. Once I learned to walk, then Erin would toddle around and hold my hand.”
Laying her head back on his chest, she smiled. “That’s so sweet.” He chuckled again, and her smile widened.
“It was the same in school. She would learn something, then wait until I learned it. Reading, math, everything.”
“I know Harper mentioned that Sean was worried about Erin.”
He sighed heavily and scrubbed his hand over his face. “As I was the youngest boy in the family, she was the middle girl, caught between Tara’s responsibility and Caitlyn’s excitement for life. She was quiet, but the one who always wanted to heal every injured animal… cry over the commercials about animals in shelters or hungry children… take the money she got for birthdays and Christmas and give it to the orphan group our church supported. She joined the Army the same time I did. Combat medic. But we weren’t stationed together. I only saw her once in four years. She seemed happy enough, but I sometimes wonder if she wasn’t too sensitive to be a medic. She’d feel everyone’s pain.” He shifted slightly, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her. “Ever since she’s been back, she’s been very quiet. I don’t know if something happened to her personally or if it was the whole experience, but something shook her to the core.”
“I’m sorry, Rory. I’m sorry for her and for you. I’m sure that’s very hard to watch and not be able to fix it.”
“She started talking to Tara, and I see Erin coming more and more back into herself. The whole family was worried, but she seems to have turned a corner and is a little happier now.”
They lay together in silence for several minutes, each to their own thoughts. She loved the feel of his embrace, his steady heartbeat under her cheek, his warm breath puffing against her forehead. She thought about how he described his family. Large. Loud. Loving. And could not help but draw comparisons to her own. Afraid to look him in the eye, she carefully said, “You’ve never asked about my real mom.”
His hand had been drifting over her shoulder but stopped for a few seconds before continuing on its path. “Babe, you can talk to me about your family whenever you want. But it needs to be in your time. Your way.”
She remained silent for another moment, gathering her thoughts. She rarely talked about her mother but trusted him and wanted Rory to know everything. “My mom left when I was six years old. She just packed her bags and left.” She swallowed deeply, then continued. “I spent years wondering what I’d done… or what Dad had done… or what made my mother walk away… what could possibly make any mother walk away. Then I felt angry that she could so easily turn her back on us. Now, it’s hard to feel much other than just sadness that she didn’t care enough to watch me grow up.”
His arm tightened around her, and she reveled in the warmth. “Babe.” The one word rumbled from his chest, but she felt it move through her, offering solace as well as sympathy.
“It’s hard for me to remember what life was like before she left. I know my dad worked a lot, but when he was home, I always felt like I had his attention. Looking back, I have no idea if he gave that same attention to her. And whenever we talked about her, which wasn’t often, he never gave me a good reason other than she felt trapped. I remember her painting. I remember watching her pretty drawings come to life. As I got older, I confess that I looked her up on social media, not sure if I wanted to find her or not. I discovered she was remarried to an artist and was living in San Francisco. No other children. I did happen to look at her husband’s social media bio and saw that he was originally from Hope City. My assumption, which I never talked about with my father, was that she’d met this man who appealed to her artistic, creative side and decided that she’d rather be with him than with us.�
��
Rory remained quiet, his fingers skimming along the skin of her arm and down her back before repeating their path. She took that as an encouragement to continue talking. “My dad came from money but still worked very hard to build his business. After Mom left, he threw himself into work even more. At least that’s how it seemed to a lonely six-year-old.”
“Is that when Martha came into the picture?”
A rueful chuckle slid out, and she shook her head, wrapping her arm around his waist as she held on tight. “No, she came along later. My grandmother moved in with us and was in charge of me for quite a few years.”
“Was that a bad thing?”
Thoughts swirled in her head, and she took several moments to figure out how to explain her grandmother to someone else. Shifting, she sat up, making sure the sheets still covered her breasts, not wanting to have a conversation about relatives while naked. Facing him, she scrunched her nose and shook her head. “No, Grandmother wasn’t bad, just different. She was like a grand dame—came from money and very set in her ways. I know she loved me, and I’m truly grateful that she stepped in when my mom left. It’s just she had very old-fashioned ideas of how a lady should behave and drilled those ideas into my head. I confess that I often still hear her words rattling around my brain almost every day. She gave me the diamond bracelet that I wear most of the time. She thought wearing lots of jewelry was ostentatious, but that had been given to her by my grandfather and she wanted me to have it.”
She scrunched her nose and shrugged. “I wasn’t lonely with her around, but there weren’t other children to play with other than at school. My dad worked a lot, often coming home after I went to bed and sometimes working weekends. Whenever we were together, he was great. But I think home was a place he didn’t really want to be.”
Rory: Hope City, Book 7 Page 17