by Gina Kincade
THE CHILL HITS HER back some time in the middle of the night. The moon casts its light on the floor. Even before she feels around her, she knows Hunter is not in bed. She pulls on the duvet he has placed on the both of them when they got into bed.
Blanche swings her legs over the bed, stuffs her feet into comfortable slippers Hunter's mom has provided, and quietly pads to the bathroom. Once she's done, she decides to search for Hunter. They haven't spent a night away from each other for a long time. It has become difficult for her to fall asleep without him. She follows the hallway light, into the kitchen and from the large picture window, she sees Hunter in the garden with another man. Blanche tugs at the sash of her robe, making sure that it is secure, before she walks out the patio doors, which lead out onto the deck.
The wind whispers around her, making the surrounding trees dance and sway their branches. She inhales deeply and the smell of roses soothes her senses. The garden is a veritable paradise during the day, and at night it is as compelling as Hunter's parents who take care of it. The murmurs continue between the two men even as she approaches. Once she's close enough, she recognizes Preston, still in the clothes he has arrived in.
Preston raises his head and nods once. Hunter looks over his shoulder and stands from the bench he sits on. "Hey, babe, what are you doing out here?" he asks, wrapping his arms around Blanche.
"I woke up and you weren't there," she leans her head on his chest as they walk back to the bench. "Hi, Preston."
"Hey," Preston responds. The moonlight, paired with the lanterns around them, illuminates his face. He's exhausted and it shows on the furrowed lines on his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes. "Hunt, we'll continue tomorrow after lunch. Good night, Blanche."
"Good night, Preston," both Hunter and Blanche say. They watch him walk carefully back to the house, with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders slouched.
"Is he okay?" Blanche finally asks. She did not have time to talk to Hunter earlier about the situation between Preston and Weston.
"He'll be fine. Don't worry about him." Hunter pulls her onto his lap. "You want to go back to bed?"
Blanche shakes her head. "No. Not yet. Let's stay out here for a bit."
"The sun will come up soon. I don't want you to be too tired for tomorrow. You'll get to meet more people."
With an arm on the back of his neck, Blanche invites him for a quick kiss, which turns into something more passionate. Hunter responds instantly, hardening under his pants. He licks her lips open, urging her tongue to dart out and tangle with his.
Blanche continues to kiss him down his throat, his beard tickling her lips. She takes a nibble along his jaw, causing him to hiss and tighten his grip on her buttocks. Blanche grinds her ass on his lap, enjoying the groan that gurgles from his throat.
"I want you," she moans against his ears. He grows larger beneath her, and she thrills at how much he's affected by what she does and says. She has never felt so free, wanton, in much need to have him inside her. It might be the cool, fresh air and the scent of flowers around them. Her hand snakes underneath his shirt, over his chest and down the trail of hair, stopping along the top of his pants.
Hunter exhales raggedly. "I have an idea." He helps her on her feet. "Wait here. I'll be back."
"Here?"
"Yeah, I'll be quick." He plants a kiss on her lips, and then deepens it, cradling her head with his hand before he runs into the house. Just as he promised, Hunter returns right away, carrying a thick blanket. He holds a hand out to Blanche, and she takes it without any hesitation.
He guides her down a pebbled trail out of the garden. After several careful steps, Blanche can hear the lap of water along the beach. Her heart leaps from excitement. The Peters home is built along the edge of Frenchman Bay, ensconced with beauty of the nearby Acadia National Park.
"Watch your steps. It can be a little slippery," Hunter warns her and slows down as they reach a set of wooden steps. "I used to hang out here when I was younger. I have a few paintings in the apartment of the view. Remind me to show them to you when we get back."
"Okay." A promise of something beautiful titillates Blanche. They reach a grouping of Muskoka chairs at the bottom of the stairs. But Hunter continues and she follows until they reach a low wall of rocks. "Don't you want to sit there?"
"No, there's a better spot." Hunter carries her up and over the rock wall, hands her the blanket, and then climbs over the wall. A bit further, under deciduous trees, they stop at a small clearing with an unencumbered view of the water and the sky reaching dawn. A single Muskoka chair, covered in a bit of moss, sits near the water.
Blanche smiles to herself. "Is this your secret place?"
As Hunter unfolds and spreads the large blanket over the chair, he replies timidly, "Not so much secret, but my brothers do leave me alone when I'm here. Not Coral though, she loved to follow me around wherever I went." He takes a seat and welcomes Blanche to sit again on his lap. "We can watch the sunrise."
But Blanche has other plans. The sunrise can wait. She undoes the belt of her robe, showing off the white silk nightdress underneath the robe, and sits on top of Hunter, facing him and with her legs astride his. Under a lightening sky, Blanche pins him with an intense gaze.
His hands move up her thighs, causing tingles on her already warming skin. As a response, Blanche walks her fingers over his thin shirt, and then spreads her hands over his chest, leaning forward for a kiss. While their tongues are entangled, she reaches down, past the waistline of his pants. She palms his erection. He moans into her mouth. Momentarily leaving the warmth of her lips, Hunter licks and nips at the skin of her shoulder, pausing to feel the erratic pulse on her throat.
The sunrise is beautiful. He has witnessed it more than he can count in his younger years. But Blanche...Blanche is sunrise in the flesh. She can warm him up from the inside out. She can elicit responses from him in a matter of seconds. He is hard for her, aching for her. He finds her wet underneath her silken panties. Dipping a finger inside her warmth, he feels her shudder. Her hand grips his length tighter.
"Hunter." His name rolls off her tongue so easily, so sweetly. She whimpers when he adds another finger.
"Look at me, Blanche," he asks of her. And she does. What he sees is enough to scorch his soul. Her honest eyes, scintillated by the flame in them, enchant him. "I love you."
Blanche loosens her hand on his erection, and then pushes down the waist of his pants, freeing him. Hunter grazes her swollen, moistened lips and keeps her panties on one side. While they stare deeply into each other's eyes, consumed by one another, she lowers herself down and he slides inside her. He wants to ravish her under the canopy of leaves changing colors to welcome a new season. She clenches her sex before moving over him, around him.
"I love you, Hunter," Blanche says, her voice laced with arousal.
With his hands cupping her buttocks, Hunter listens to her quivers, and delights in her intoxicating scent. His cock pulsates inside her. His heart beat races. She quickens her movements, panting his name into the open air. Hunter is captivated by her allure. He releases a primal moan as she undulates around him, squeezing him into total euphoria.
She collapses on top of him. Her shoulders rise and fall to the tune of her breathing. Fisting the edge of the blanket, Hunter wraps it around them. If he's ever given a choice, he'll opt to stay like that forever, with Blanche in his arms. The sky behind Blanche brightens as the sun peaks from the horizon.
The tap on her back urges Blanche to look over her shoulder. "That's a gorgeous sunrise. You don't see anything like that in the city," she murmurs on her chest. Her chin dips lower and sighs. She adjusts herself to avoid squeezing Hunter with her belly.
Their lovemaking is not often frenetic but this does not make it any less special. With her ear pressed on his chest, Blanche begins to hum. Pure ecstasy can be overwhelming at times, but in that moment, Blanche chooses to remain mystified by it, and by Hunter.
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sp; Chapter Thirty-Two
While Blanche stretches her arms up on the bed, a quiet rap comes on the bedroom door. She doesn't have a clue when she ended up in bed, guessing that Hunter has carried her the entire way back.
"Blanche," Coral calls out from the other side of the door, "Are you awake?"
She tugs at the blanket to make sure she is properly covered before asking Hunter's sister inside. "Come in, Coral."
The door opens slowly and Coral pops her head in. "Good morning! Mom's wondering if you want breakfast?"
"Oh, yes, that would be great." Blanche sits up. "Do you know where Hunter is?"
Coral props an elbow on a low dresser beside the door. "He went running with Preston."
"Running? Hunter doesn't run. At least not in the city." Blanche reaches for her robe and shrugs into it.
"He only did that because he wants to make sure Preston doesn't do anything stupid."
"What do you mean?" Bee angles her head to one side.
Coral purses her lips before she answers, "I guess he hasn't told you about him and Darla?"
"Preston and Darla?" Bee asks even though she has guessed as much the night before.
"Yup. You can get dressed if you want. I don't mind. I won't look." Coral sits on the edge of the bed, turning away from Blanche. "They used to be engaged."
"But Darla is married to Weston." Blanche rummages through her suitcase, taking out a pair of fresh underwear and a light blue dress.
"Well, that's Darla for you. She's a snake. We're basically just waiting for Weston to divorce her ass. She's no good for him."
Blanche pauses upon hearing Coral's frank statement. She does want to know more, but not from Coral. Anything important should be discussed between her and Hunter. After brushing her teeth, a quick wash of her face and brushing her hair, she goes downstairs with Coral.
Once Blanche reaches the bottom of the stairs, she sees a woman looking through the screened door. "Coral, who's that?" Bee points the woman out.
Coral shrugs but checks out the brunette. She opens the door and invites the woman to come in. She can't be much older than Blanche, but she is dressed more elegantly than anyone their age. Her hair is swooped into a neat chignon and she only has a touch of makeup on her flawless face. Blanche peers at the small luggage she's carrying.
"It's too chilly outside for you to stand around," Coral tells the woman. "Are you lost? Are you looking for something or someone?"
"Yes," the woman replies. "I'm looking for Preston Peters. My name is Stella. He invited me to attend his parents' wedding anniversary."
Despite just finding out about Preston's past situation, Blanche is as shocked as Coral. "Preston?" the two of them ask.
Stella nods. "Are you his family?"
Coral lifts an eyebrow at Blanche, and then at Stella. Then she says, "Yeah. I'm Coral, his sister. And this is Blanche, Hunter's wife...well, they're not married yet. Soon. But they're going to have a little baby. A daughter named Aria. Isn't it cute?" Coral explains rapidly. "Well, let me take your bag and I'll bring it to Preston's room. You can go to the kitchen and have breakfast with Blanche. My mom is there too."
Stella holds onto her luggage. "I don't know. Maybe I should wait for Preston first."
Coral waves her hand. "Nah. He'll be fine." She takes the bag from Stella and the woman doesn't have any choice but comply.
THE ODDEST THING HAPPENS when Preston arrives back from his run with Hunter. It doesn't take a genius to see how surprised he is of Stella's appearance. But Stella remains calm. Blanche thinks she's a sweet girl, naive but sweet. Blanche suspects she doesn't have a clue about Darla. Hunter's mother welcomes Stella like how she welcomed Blanche, with open arms. And following that is a plateful of breakfast.
Jason, Marianne and their boys come in shortly after they start eating and join the two newcomers for breakfast. Much like dinner, breakfast is not a silent affair. Of course, not until Preston walks in, asking Stella what she's doing there. A few moments of quiet communication between Preston and Stella, they retreat to his bedroom to, Blanche assumes, talk about her presence.
Hunter is not too perturbed by it all. He greets Stella then sits beside Blanche. He's already been informed about Stella, but Blanche still wonders why Preston doesn't seem too pleased with her arriving in his hometown.
That afternoon, when everyone and everything are ready, and the guests for the party start arriving, everything that has occurred in the morning is forgotten. Stella and Preston descends the stairs holding hands. Naturally, Darla doesn't seem too thrilled about it. But Preston ignores and Stella acts like she doesn't feel the tension. Hunter dresses in a light navy blue suit with a white shirt and no tie. It has taken a lot out of Blanche not to rip the clothes off of him. Hunter has had to show the same restraint. After all, they are expected at his parents’ ceremony.
They gather out in the beautiful garden with the bright sun shining upon them. The moment Hunter's parents read the vows they have written and promised many years ago, Blanche cannot stop herself from tearing up. To witness such love and affection from people who have been together for years is beyond beautiful. Blanche has no doubt that she can experience the same with Hunter.
She fingers the engagement ring hanging on her neck. It is a promise of many wonderful things to come. The baby inside her moves slowly. Blanche smoothens a hand over her belly. Aria agrees.
"HOW SWEET IT IS TO be loved by you..."
Blanche has caught Hunter sing a few lines of the song since leaving Bar Harbor. She browses through the pictures on her phone while they wait for their bags.
"Did you have a great time?" Hunter asks her. Bee rolls her eyes then smiles at him.
She mock-punches his chin with a closed fist. "You've asked me that so many times." With a tender peck on his lips, she continues, "And the answer remains the same. I had a wonderful time."
"You don't mind going back for Thanksgiving and Christmas?"
"I don't mind...as long as I'm still allowed to travel, I'd love nothing more than to spend time with your family for the Holidays."
"What about your family?"
Blanche is taken aback by his question. He has never been concerned about her mother before. The first and only time he's ever met her has not been the greatest experience.
"My family doesn't celebrate Holidays." Hunter continues to regard her, waiting for more explanation, and so she goes on, "We used to attend parties hosted by others or fund-raising galas."
"In Chicago?"
"Yes, in Chicago. And Boston, and Madrid, Rome, Paris...You get my point."
Hunter threads his fingers through hers. "Will you ever talk to your mother again? Tell her about our engagement?"
"Do you want me to?"
"It's up to you. No matter what she is still your mother. I can tell you miss her."
Blanche can only respond with a nod of her head. Tears prickle the back of her eyes. She doesn't have a huge family like Hunter; she only has her mother. And yes, she will always be happy and loved by Hunter and Aria. But it doesn't hurt to add another person in her life. One who has endured so many tribulations of raising a child on her own? In that way, Bee admires her mother. She hopes that it can be enough to restart their relationship.
"Tomorrow, as soon as we are settled, I'll give her a call."
Hunter kisses the top of her head. "Good." His arms wrap around her and he envelopes her in love and warmth. "Do you mind if we make a quick pit stop? I have to show you something."
"I don't mind."
"I know you're exhausted. I promise it will be worth it."
"Okay," Blanche says, and she believes him. Hunter has always kept his promises.
THE CAB STOPS IN FRONT of a boutique prewar town home on West 23rd, a few blocks from their apartment. Hunter asks the driver to keep the meter running, while they head inside. He helps Blanche out of the cab, but he's hoping that she cannot hear the loud thundering of his heart inside his chest.
What if
she doesn't like it? he has asked himself for weeks. He has surprised Bee many times before and she has received them well. Can this be too much of a shock? Should he have consulted her first?
"Where are we?" she asks as they ascend the few steps up the town home entrance. She's too busy looking around the neighborhood to notice that he has produced a key to the place from his own pocket. "This is a great area. It's so quiet."
"Come on. I'll show you."
Blanche knits her browse together before complying. Hunter raises a hand and offers it to her. "What are you up to?"
He flicks the lights on and Bee gasps at the prewar traits of the place. The open concept living area boasts high ceilings with exposed beams, the modern kitchen juxtaposes the red brick along the far wall, and the gleaming hardwood floor brings warmth to the large room. The entire house is furnished with intricate, yet comfortable-looking contemporary pieces.
"This is gorgeous." Bee steps toward the group seating arrangement in the middle of the room, running her hand over a curved back of a long sofa.
"You like it?"
Blanche nods, walking further in and checking out the state-of-the-art kitchen. "Yeah, who lives here?"
"We do?"
She stops in her tracks. "I beg your pardon?" She whips around to face Hunter, who has stayed by the door.
"We do. We live here. At least, I'm hoping that we can. I bought it years ago, so don't worry about me making a huge decision without asking your first. I've renovated it through the years in my spare time, and while we are away, I asked our friends to bring furniture in." He pushes off the wall he's been leaning on, and joins her in the kitchen. "What do you say?"
"What can I say? It's gorgeous. Why wouldn't I want to live here? Our friends knew?"
"Yes, including Trisha and Troy. I made her promise not to rat me out. There are two bedrooms and two baths. And there is a rooftop terrace, even a small garden if you want to grow stuff."