Love and Landscape (Rockland Falls Book 3)

by Lacey Black

  She exhales, her breath hitting me square in the face. “I think I’m ready to clean out the library and use it.” Her words are a hushed whisper, but the impact is as if she screamed them.

  “Yeah?” I ask, unable to hide my smile.

  Kate nods.

  “I think that’s a wonderful idea,” I confess. The thought of a woman as gifted as Kate not using her talent anymore made me a little crazy. Knowing she’s thinking about painting again has me all sorts of excited for her.

  “You do?” she asks, her brows furrowed together.

  “I think it’s the best fucking idea you’ve had all week.”

  “Even better than fondling my boobs in the laundry room?” she quips, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Technically, that was my idea,” I remind her, swiping at a piece of hair hanging down on her cheek. The only thing I manage to do though is streak that delicate skin with dirt.

  “Ahh, yes, it was your idea. And what a brilliant idea it was,” she says, running her hands up my very dirty T-shirt.

  I really should head out and shower, but I can’t go without a kiss. I claim her lips with my own, hungry and full of days’ worth of pent-up sexual frustration. Kate mewls against me, giving as good as I do. Unfortunately, this kiss can’t lead anywhere, which is why it pains me to pull away. We’re both breathing hard, her eyes glassy with desire.

  “Fuck, I’d rather kiss you, but I really need to get Max.”

  She nods. “You’ll be back shortly.”

  “Yeah,” I confirm, placing another kiss on her forehead. “We’re going to have to figure out a time where I can get you alone, fast.”

  “Your mom did mention she’s ready for a slumber party,” Kate reminds me, recalling the conversation my mom and I had at the Labor Day cookout this past Monday.

  “She did. Maybe I’ll give her a call on my way to get Max,” I reply, already liking that idea. There are so many things I could do again with (and to) Kate with the entire day and night at our disposal.

  “Go, before you’re late to pick him up,” she says, taking a step back and out of my reach. I miss her nearness already.

  “See you soon,” I holler as I grab my shovel and toss it in the job trailer. Then, I’m in the hot truck cab and heading toward the sitter’s place for my son. It’ll be a short night with Kate, but that’s okay. She has plans and I’ll need to get Max home, bathed, and in bed for school tomorrow. But at least I have something to look forward to this weekend.

  Essentially, some much-needed alone time with my Kate.

  * * *

  “Do you want to check out the library before the pizza gets here?” Kate asks as I get Max situated with some cartoons in the family room.

  “Yeah,” he replies, glancing toward his son. “Hey, Max, Kate and I are going to be down the hallway in the library. Holler if you need us, okay?”

  “’Kay!” he replies, not once taking his eyes off the cartoon dogs on the large screen.

  As we exit the large, comfortable TV room, I reach for her hand, reveling in the feel of her skin against mine. We’re down the hall in just a few seconds, and before she has the opportunity to open the closed door, I pull her against my body and press my lips to hers. This kiss is gentler than the one earlier in the backyard. With my son just a handful of feet away and the knowledge we can’t do any more than just kiss, I don’t want to get either one of us worked up in a frenzy. It’s bad enough I can only indulge in stolen kisses and tender touches, so the last thing I need is to sport a hard-on the entire night because I can’t keep my hands and my tongue to myself.

  “Hi,” she whispers, the feeling of her smile against my lips already doing things below the belt.

  “Hi.”

  “Well, come on. We can’t stand out here all night and make out like teenagers.”

  “Well, we could, but Max will eventually come looking for us when he gets hungry,” I tell her, reaching for the doorknob.

  Our hands are still locked as I slowly push open the door. The room is bathed in light, thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows that face the backyard. They are a special glass that allows you to see out, but not in. It’s dusty in here, thanks to more than a decade’s worth of dormant house, and the first thing Kate does when she steps in is sneeze.

  “I’ve got to get this room cleaned out. It’s horrible in here,” she says. “That’s my plan for this weekend. I’m going to sort through my dad’s desk and find out from the attorney what needs to be saved, if anything. Some of the old books I want to keep, but honestly, I have a ton of my own books I’d love to bring in here and fill the shelves with. I’ll keep some of his favorites, but I’ve already talked to the used bookstore in town, and they’ve agreed to take them for me.”

  “Max and I can help, if you need it,” I offer, hoping like hell she agrees. “He’s going to Mom’s in the afternoon on Saturday, but I’ll have him back in the morning on Sunday.”

  “I’d love your help,” she agrees, a warm smile on her lips. “Maybe instead of dinner out, we can just order in and hang out here,” she offers.

  “I think that can be arranged,” I say, slowly making my way toward the easel by the window. I can already see the painting perched upon it, even though it’s quite dirty from years of sitting. My heart starts to pound in my chest as I approach, my mind reeling at the image she created. I run my finger across it, knocking off a little dust and grime.

  “That’s us,” she whispers beside me. I didn’t even hear her approach.

  “It’s amazing,” I tell her, taking in the gorgeous scenery of the ocean and the backyard before the recent re-landscape, as well as the young couple standing on the shore. “I remember that night,” I whisper, taking in the way our arms are entwined and our bodies pressed together. It was the night I told her I was going to marry her. No, it wasn’t a proposal, but it was a declaration.

  A promise.

  One I never got to fulfill.

  Kate swipes at a bit of dust gathered along the top, her eyes pinned to the canvas. “I was planning to give it to you,” she says with a shrug and it feels like my heart is starting to break open. “I started it that night after you left and worked until the wee hours in the morning. Your birthday was coming up. You’d always wanted one of my paintings,” she adds.

  “But you never thought they were good enough,” I finish for her, remembering how she never saw the talent the way the rest of us did. I blamed her mother for that. She wasn’t supportive of Kate’s talents, always considering them a pesky hobby she’d grow out of. Annabelle Elliott was always more concerned with appearances than what could benefit her own daughter. She’s a piece of work, that’s for sure.

  She gives me a sheepish grin and glances at the half complete painting in front of us.

  “I still want this one,” I tell her.

  “But it’s not finished.”

  “So finish it,” I suggest, reaching around her hip and pulling her into my side.

  “I haven’t painted since that night,” she reiterates, reminding me of an earlier conversation about why she stopped painting.

  “Well, then I think it’s time to grab a brush, Butterfly. Choose your own destiny,” I add. I don’t know why I said that last part, but it felt right, like it might be something she needed to hear.

  Again, she grins up at me and then back to the artwork. “I’m not sure I’m any good anymore.”

  I blow an exasperated breath. “Are you kidding? I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike.”

  That makes her laugh. “Sure it is.” She exhales. “Do you know what? I do want to try. I don’t know if it’s being here in this room or everything that’s led up to it, but I’d love to paint again. I’ve missed it.”

  Turning her in my arms, I interlock my fingers behind her lower back and hold her close. “It’s time to rediscover you, Kate. Don’t do it for your mom or because you think that’s what you should do. Or even me. Do it for you. Do it because you have no other option but
to paint.”

  Her eyes kinda glass over a bit, and I wonder if she’s going to cry. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  She hesitates for just a second before asking her question, and even though I knew this particular one would come up again soon, I wasn’t it expecting tonight. “What’s going on with us?”

  It’s amazing how right it feels to have her in my arms again, and for once, I’m not going to hold back when it comes to telling her how I feel. “Well, I’m enjoying the hell out of spending time with you, and I’d like to keep doing so. If that means you’re my girlfriend again, then so be it, but life’s too short not to just go after what you want, and Kate?” I ask, my hand moving up to cup her jaw, “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

  Then my lips are on hers. I have no idea how she feels about my blunt statement, but I don’t give her the chance to reply. Instead, I slide my tongue along the seam of her lips, my body craving a taste, and she opens up for me. My tongue slides easily against hers as her hands reach around my back and grip my shirt. This kiss could very easily go from nice to holy-fuck in less than a second, but I won’t let it. Not with Max in the other room.

  The doorbell sounds, interrupting us. “That’s probably the pizza,” she says, resting her cheek against my chest and inhaling deeply.

  “Probably. I’ll go grab it,” I tell her, kissing her forehead before letting her go. I miss having her near me already.

  “Hey, Jensen?” she asks, stopping me as I reach the doorway. When I turn back to face her, she adds, “I want you too.”

  The ache in my chest that I’ve carried for the last dozen years suddenly starts to lift and a big smile breaks out on my face. “Good, because you’re not getting rid of me this time,” I tell her. The doorbell sounds a second time, which is why I find myself heading to the foyer, the biggest fucking smile ever on my face.

  Pulling out my wallet, I reach the door and pull it open. I grab a few twenties to pay for dinner, but my hands stumble as I come face-to-face with who’s on the other side of the door. Definitely not the pizza guy.

  “Surprise!” my aunt Emma bellows from the doorway.

  “Jesus,” I say before I can stop it.

  “No, just Aunt Emma, darling.” She glances over to Uncle Orval, who’s standing beside her. “I’ve been called God more times than I can count, but never Jesus, right, Orvie?”

  “You got that right, Emmie,” he coos, and I’m pretty sure he goosed her ass.

  “Oh, stop it, you ol’ goat. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you call me God later tonight,” she says in a sugary sweet voice that makes me want to vomit. “Well, don’t just stand there, Jensen. The car is loaded with my things. Be a dear and bring them in for me?” Aunt Emma asks before pushing past me and just walking right into Kate’s house. “Wow, what a magnificent home,” she says, looking up at the chandelier.

  “Thank you,” Kate says, slowly entering the foyer. “I take it you’re not the pizza delivery driver,” she quips, going over to where my aunt stands.

  “No, dear, I’m Aunt Emma, and the sexy older man at the doorway is my Orval. You must be Kathryn,” she says, taking a few steps toward Kate.

  “I am,” she says, extending her hand.

  Emma ignores it, instead pulling her into a fierce hug. When she finally releases her, Emma takes another look around the house. “This place is beautiful. I bet there were lots of rooms to christen, weren’t there?” she asks, catching Kate completely off guard.

  In my defense, we did try to warn her at the cookout.

  “Kathryn, this feisty old woman and her husband are going to be your houseguests for the next three nights,” I say, holding the door open so my uncle can come in too.

  “Four.”

  “Four?” Kate asks, glancing between the old woman and me.

  “Yes, dear, four. We decided to head back home on Monday. I hope it’s okay we are here that long. We could always head over a few towns to find one of those cheap hotels with bedbugs and hookers in and out all night long.”

  “Oh, no no no, that’s not necessary. You’re more than welcome to stay here with me,” Kate says politely, but I can’t help but shake my head. I feel like we were just played, or at least Kate was. I also have a feeling our quiet evening in on Saturday night will be anything but. Not with these two on the premises.

  Let’s just hope we can find a piece of privacy in this big house. I mean, it’s eight thousand square feet.

  Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kathryn

  As I head down Main Street in Rockland Falls, looking for a parking spot, I can’t help but wonder, “So, Emma, I was certain we shut the gate. How did you and Orval get in?”

  After Jensen went outside to get their four suitcases—apparently, Emma isn’t a light traveler—the pizza deliveryman arrived and we all shared the pizza. It hit me that I had to buzz him in because the gate was closed, as it usually is.

  Emma scoffs. “It takes a lot more than a little ol’ security gate to keep Aunt Emma out, dear. My time with the FBI taught me a lot of valuable things.”

  I don’t even know what that means, and I’m not sure I want to.

  “I’m so excited to see what new things Harper has,” she says, glancing around at the very busy streets, all lined with ladies taking advantage of the annual Ladies’ Night Out shopping event.

  “Have you shopped there before?” I ask, mentally slapping myself for asking such a stupid question. Obviously she has, if she’s curious about her new stock.

  “Oh, many times. Uncle Orval really likes the racy panties section,” she tells me so casually I almost miss her statement.

  I park in the first available spot I can find, just down the street from Harper’s store Kiss Me Goodnight. As I climb out of the car, I realize this is basically the same spot where the Haunted House was set up, and suddenly, I’m blushing a bit at the memories.

  When I glance back at Emma, I see she’s already taking off toward the shop at a much faster pace than I would have expected from a woman her age. Jensen told me they’re in their eighties, more than twenty years older than his mom, Mary Ann. The story is Mary Ann’s dad remarried after his first wife passed away. Orval was a young adult then and didn’t approve of his father’s very rapid remarry and essentially cut them from his life. It wasn’t until Orval and Emma’s granddaughter’s wedding that they reconnected after nearly forty years.

  I have to practically run to catch up with her. She’s a woman on a mission. “Thank you for inviting me to go with you, dear,” she says, offering me a warm, grandmotherly smile.

  I almost snort at her comment. There wasn’t really an invitation. Once she heard I was coming up here after the pizza, she basically invited herself, insisting she come with me to buy some new goodies for the bedroom. I don’t even want to think about what that means.

  “You’re most welcome,” I end up saying as we approach the front door. “I’m happy to have someone to shop with.” I’m not sure that’s entirely true, but I’ve been enjoying my short time with Jensen’s aunt nonetheless.

  “I love shopping, dear. You’ll see. Now that you and my Jensen are shacking up, I might have to buy you a housewarming gift.” There’s something in the gleam in her eye that makes me pause. I’ve heard all the stories of her gifts on Monday at the Labor Day cookout.

  “Oh, uh, Jensen and I aren’t shacking up. He and Max are still at their house,” I tell her as we walk through the door of a bustling store.

  Emma tsks. “Semantics, dear. As long as you’re having the sex, then you’re practically shacking up.”

  “Ummm…” I pause inside the door, realizing a few local ladies (one being my old fifth grade teacher) have overheard Emma’s blunt statement. They stand there as wide-eyed and shocked as I do.

  “Don’t be bashful now. This place is perfect to outfit your bedroom escapades. Does my nephew enjoy crotchless panties? I know fo
r a fact Harper carries them. Uncle Orval just loves them,” she says as she reaches down and grabs my hand, pulling me through the throngs of people until we’re standing in front of a display featuring the product she so vocally asked about. “These, dear. They’re perfect for when you just need to unleash the one-eyed tube snake.” She leans closer to me and yell-whispers, “That means his penis.”

  My face burns with mortification. Now, I can see exactly why Jensen’s siblings weren’t too thrilled at having Emma and Orval stay with them. If she acts like this all the time, and even after only knowing her about two hours, I’m pretty sure she does, I can see why they’d prefer her in smaller doses.

  “Aunt Emma, are you harassing Kathryn?” Harper says, coming over to greet her aunt with a hug.

  “There’s no harassment, dear. I was just explaining how much my Orvie loves the crotchless panties I bought from here, and I’m sure Jensen would love them too. He seems like the type of man who likes to pound the paternal pistol.”

  I choke on the very air I breathe, while Harper just smiles down at the old lady. “Oh, Aunt Emma, I’ve missed you,” she says with another hug. “But if we could refrain from talking about my brother’s pistol and what he likes to do with it, I’d forever be grateful.”

  Emma blows out a hard breath. “Harper, your brother likes to pogo in the shrub as much as that sexy hunk of man-meat you’re shacking up with does.”

  “Yes, but I’d prefer to never think about my brother’s anything involving sex.”

  “Fine, dear. What do you have new for this evening? I’m in need of something to help accentuate my girls. One of my boobie tassels broke last week,” she says, doing a full turn to check out the merchandise.

  “Oh, uh, I’m very sorry to hear about the tassel,” Harper replies, trying with all her might to keep a straight face. “I just got in a few new bustiers. One has fringe,” she says, grabbing Emma’s arm and gently leading her away.

  “I do love fringe,” Emma agrees.

  Over her shoulder, Harper whispers, “Go, browse. I’ll keep her entertained.”