Hailey and I both purchase the largest size bag for our apples. Jeff tries to pay for mine, but I’m not having any of that. He and I are just friends and that screams “date” to me. It’s bad enough he bought my cider and donuts earlier. The guys all purchase bags to collect their apples in and before long we’re all climbing in the back of the tractor pulled wagon that will take us to the actual apple orchard. The wagon has bales of hay around some of the inner perimeter for us to sit on, but I prefer to sit on the wooden floor. Jeff sits next to me on one side and Hailey follows on the other. Interestingly enough, I notice Cory scowl when Lee sits in the vacant space next to her. I almost feel bad for him because I know he has feelings for Hailey, but he burned that bridge a long time ago and now it’s never going to happen. I’m kind of hoping that she and Lee will hit it off. She could use a nice guy to go out with. Judging by how he’s whispering in her ear and her ridiculous giggling, I’d say they're interested in each other.
The bumpy, winding wagon ride is always a lot of fun and today is no exception. It’s always one of my favorite parts of coming here. We typically come picking on a weekend because the wagon ride isn’t available during the workweek. It wouldn’t be nearly as much fun if we had to hike up the hills to the orchard and then carry all our apples back down after.
The tractor pulls us in the wagon, along a steep incline that gives us an almost three hundred sixty-degree view of the surrounding area. We’re up on a ledge and all that’s visible beyond the orchard are red, yellow and orange colored treetops for as far as the eye can see. It’s truly breathtaking. We come to an abrupt stop at a point where there’s a four-way split, with signs directing us to different types of apple trees. As I’m climbing out of the wagon Cory is already on the ground holding out his hand to assist me. I thank him and as I walk away, I take a quick glance at Hailey to see if she’ll accept his help. She ignores both him and his outstretched hand and Lee actually steps in to help her get down by grabbing onto her hips and swinging her out of the wagon, before placing her on her feet. She shrieks out loud with laughter before hugging him. Cory looks pissed that Lee has his hands on her and Hailey has no idea because she’s barely looked at him in over two years. It’s all extremely entertaining. I love drama, as long as it’s not mine.
We spend the next hour hand picking apples from the gnarled branches of the fruit trees. We ended up spreading out to different parts of the orchard since we all like different kinds. Jake and I are only the only people in this particular row of trees. He’s helping me by picking the apples that are too high for me to reach. He’s always treated me well and now that I’m an adult, I consider him to be one of my friends. We don’t get the chance to hang out that often since I’m busy with school and he works full-time as an IT specialist. If Jake weren't Hailey’s brother, I would definitely be interested in him. He’s absolutely gorgeous with his curly black as midnight hair and piercing blue eyes. He and Hailey actually look quite a bit alike but where her eyes lean more toward a light turquoise, his are closer to a baby blue and they have a dark blue ring around the iris. As a result of his good looks he has quite the reputation for being a heartbreaker, but from what I’ve heard, he’s honest and upfront about preferring to do the friends with benefits thing, much like me.
“Why do you think that you and I have never slept together?” Jake completely shocks me with his out of the blue question, so much so, that my mouth is literally hanging open. It takes me a minute to even formulate a reply.
“The main reason for me, is that you’re Hailey’s brother. If you guys weren’t related, I’d be all over you like poison ivy, big boy.” I wink at him before I return to picking more apples.
“I guess I don’t see the issue with me being Hailey’s brother. Why does that matter? Sex is sex; it doesn’t have to cloud anything.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal…as if we’re merely talking about the weather or what we had for dinner last night.
“Yeah, but your sister is my best friend and out of respect for her, I won’t sleep with you. You, my friend, are off limits.” I poke him in the chest for extra emphasis. He catches my hand in his, sensually rubbing my wrist with his thumb.
“You and I will sleep together, Shelby, it’s inevitable. It may not happen anytime in the immediate future, but mark my words, it will happen.” He smiles cockily at me before letting go of my hand. I pause to pick a few more apples and check them over for worm holes and bruises before placing them in my tote.
“Jake, I think you’re being a bit delusional and we can agree to disagree on this issue.” His only reaction to what I say is a small quirk of his lips. We spend the rest of our time picking apples in companionable silence.
***
I sleep in on Sunday morning and finally drag myself out of bed at noon to do some much-needed studying. I’m doing well in all of my classes right now and I have to make sure this continues so I can maintain my high-grade point average. I’m passing math with a solid B, solely thanks to Jeff and his mad tutoring skills. He’s helped me to understand why we have to do things a certain way and not just how to do it. It’s really helpful if I can actually grasp the concepts and not just know the steps I need to follow.
I’m sprawled on my bed with textbooks and notebooks spread out all around me when Hailey peeks her head in my room.
“Shelb, are you free tonight? I’m working at a faculty cocktail party and we’re short one server.”
Hailey works for a catering company that’s owned by a family friend. She makes great money working these events and from time to time I’ll fill in when they’re short staffed.
“Yeah, I can do it. What do I have to wear and I need the time and location.” I roll over on my back and look up at the ceiling. I hope Professor Hanlon won’t be there. Ugh, I really don’t want to deal with him. I’ve been doing everything I can to avoid him, including making Jeff sit with me in the rear of his class so I can blend in with all the gigglers and not be singled out.
“You need to wear a black skirt, knee length or shorter, black pantyhose and a plain white tee shirt. I have an extra black vest that you’ll need to borrow and make sure you wear heels. You have to be there by six thirty and I need to be there an hour earlier to help set up. It’s being held at Storrow House, where the dean lives. You know that big white Colonial with black shutters and the attached carriage house garage?”
“Yeah, I know exactly where it is and I’ll be there on time. Do I need to wear my hair a certain way?”
“You have to wear it up because we’re serving food. Will you do a French braid for me, before I go? I haven’t worn my hair like that in a long time and you do a much tighter braid than I can.”
“Of course, I will. Now let me get back to work so I can finish up in plenty of time.” I smile at her before rolling back over to my stomach and focusing once again on my textbook.
Finishing up my school work and braiding Hailey's hair took longer than I estimated. I didn’t have time to fully dry my own hair before, throwing it up in a twist on the back of my head. I secure it with a black plastic, four-pronged clip and give my head a shake to make sure it holds tight, before putting my makeup on. Since it’s a nighttime party, I use shimmery golden shades of brown to emphasize my eyes and put on my favorite red lipstick. The hemline on my black skirt lands just above my knees so I’m only wearing thigh high hose instead of the full set. I slide my feet into my most comfortable pair of black stiletto heeled pumps, grab my wallet and keys and I’m out the door.
I called for a cab to take me to the dean’s house since visitor parking is scarce in that area. Hell, even the resident parking is extremely limited. I should be all set for the ride home because I can grab a ride with Hailey and worst case scenario, I can call for a cab. The ride is quick, only taking five minutes and I arrive with ten extra minutes to spare. I make my way inside the back entrance of the house as Hailey’s last text instructed me to do. I walk in the direction of the sound of clanging pots and pans, assumin
g it will lead me to the kitchen...and it does. The room is large with all the modern conveniences you wouldn’t expect in a house that dates back two hundred twenty years. The appliances are shiny stainless steel and look brand new. The room is warm due to the double ovens being utilized and the large number of catering staff working at preparing different dishes. There are white rectangular trays of appetizers laid out on the large granite topped island, just waiting to be handed out to the mingling guests. One of the staff is pouring champagne into glass flutes and strategically placing them on round white trays to be passed out. The way the woman is filling all the glasses an exact amount, before placing them precisely the same distance apart on the tray, makes me wonder if she suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder. Just the thought of having to carry those carefully organized champagne trays is enough to make me anxious. I hope I can stick with passing out hors d'oeuvres instead.
Hailey walks in, sees me looking like a deer in the headlights and takes pity on me.
“Come on, I’ll show you where to leave your wallet and keys.” She grabs my arm and gently pulls me along behind her until we come to a hall closet. “Here, put your stuff in my purse so it won’t get lost.” I do as she says and try to psych myself up for the next few hours but I’ve never been good at motivating myself for things that I don’t want to be doing in the first place.
“What’s the matter, Shelby?” Hailey asks, looking concerned. She puts her hand on my forehead to check me for a fever. “You look a little green around the gills.”
“I’m not sick, I’m just nervous about which faculty members might be here tonight.”
“Are you worried about seeing Professor Hanlon?” She asks as if I’m crazy for being concerned about him attending this party. She’s speaking in a voice way louder than I’d prefer.
“Shhh! Not so loud. Yes, I’m worried he’s going to be here. I’ve been trying to avoid him and him being here would kind of kill that.” I’m nauseous at the thought of running into him...possibly soon.
“Shelby, as long as I’ve known you, I’ve never seen a guy have this effect on you, so why are you letting him? What makes him so different than any other guy? He puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like the rest of them.” I smile at her when she finishes her little pep talk. I appreciate what she said and I know it’s true. He’s just a guy and I need to keep reminding myself of this one simple fact. He's just a guy.
“Thanks, Hailey. What would I do without you?” I squeeze her to me in a quick hug.
“Okay chickie, it’s time to get to work. Why don’t you start out with handing out appetizers, they’re much easier to maneuver than balancing the champagne trays?”
“Yes, thank you for having mercy on me and my uncoordinated self.”
“I’ve always got your back Shelb.” Hailey gives me a fist bump and a wink before I follow her to the kitchen to get a tray of hors d'oeuvres. She grabs a circular champagne filled tray before walking down a long hallway toward the front of the house, where the party is being held. These older houses have nooks and crannies and chopped up rooms. They don’t have the flowing open floor plans that make entertaining easy. I’m going to have to make sure that I make my way through all these spaces so I don’t miss any guests that might be looking for a quieter atmosphere. We start out in the large living room that’s located to the left of the main entryway. It’s decorated with an eclectic mix of new and antique items. There’s a brown leather sectional, covered in brightly colored pillows and it provides the majority of the seating in the room. There’s a large brick fireplace with floral patterned slipper chairs, flanking either side of it. The end tables look like authentic antiques that could’ve been here in this house for the last two hundred years. The glass lamps that top them are also antiques but not that old as they’re wired for electricity. There are people standing around at different intervals and some seated on the comfortable looking couch. I make sure I offer the bite size samples to all before moving on to the next room, which is directly across from this one. It’s smaller in size and looks like it may be used as a theater room. The furniture is more laid back and there’s a large television mounted on the wall. The shelves of a corner cabinet are filled with DVD's and there’s a large bookcase situated on an adjacent wall, and it’s overflowing with well-read books. If I weren't working this event, I would love to take my time lingering over the various titles. I stare at the shelves longingly before making my way to the next person.
“Would you like an appetizer?” I ask as I approach the man standing to the side of the bookcase. He turns his head, locking eyes with me and I gasp out loud. Of course, it’s Professor Fucking Hanlon. Fuck my life. I hear Hailey’s voice in my head telling me he’s just like every other man and I decide to act as if he doesn’t bother me at all.
“Hello Professor, would you like an appetizer?” I don’t smile at him...I keep my face as blank and expression free as I can manage, which is no small task for someone as naturally animated as I am. Our eyes are locked together and I can’t seem to look away. It’s as if I’m being compelled against my will. Compelled, really? This isn’t Harry freaking Potter.
“Yes Shelby, I would,” He answers me, the timbre of his voice is so deep that it sends vibrations down my spine causing goosebumps to erupt all over me. Even my nipples have pebbled as a result and I can only hope that the black vest I borrowed from Hailey is keeping that fact well hidden from him. He reaches his hand toward the tray and it’s as if it’s happening in slow motion. It’s as though time has somehow slowed down and every millisecond in his company is magnified a thousand times. His hand brushes mine as he chooses the bacon wrapped scallop that’s located closest to where my fingers are holding the tray and it sends tingling electrical pulses radiating up my arm. He raises the bite size morsel to his mouth and encloses it between his lips before pulling the now empty toothpick out. He reaches down and lifts another from the tray, raising it to my lips. He holds it in front of my mouth, waiting for me to try it. I shake my head at him and make my eyes open wide. I don’t like seafood and even though I love bacon, I can’t bring myself to eat it.
“Take it. Put it in your mouth.” He orders me, pressing the appetizer to my lips. My eyes grow impossibly wider at the words he just said. He makes the simplest thing seem sexual in nature. I don’t know if that’s his intention or just a unique talent he has, but I act as though it didn’t happen. I once again shake my head no and lean back away from the scallop he’s holding near my lips.
“I don’t eat seafood.” I finally tell him as I curl my upper lip with repugnance. He leans forward almost to the point of making contact with my lips and closes his mouth around the bacon wrapped bite, before pulling out the now clean toothpick.
“Mmm,” he groans out in pleasure as he chews. He leans forward toward me, close enough that his lips are now touching my ear as he whispers.
“If you don’t try new things, how do you know you won’t like them?” My body seizes up as if I’m frozen solid and I can’t move from where I’m standing. It isn’t until his tongue makes contact with the area behind my ear, that I gain some composure and walk away. I head across the Persian rug covered floor to a small group of people that are conversing and hold the tray out for them to take samples from. As soon as I can, I escape from that room and there’s no way in hell I’m going back in there as long as I know he’s here. I place my tray down in the hall, stepping into the small powder room for a moment to gather my thoughts. He makes me lose all sense of reason and I swear my brain freezes up until I’m incapable of thinking. He does some weird voodoo mind trick on me that makes me his obedient little puppet that he can do whatever he wants to. It’s extremely frustrating and it needs to stop. Pull yourself together.
As I come out of the bathroom and turn to close the door, my hand is suddenly grabbed. Before I can even make a single sound of protest, I’m being pulled up the nearby staircase by none other than, Professor Hanlon.
“What are
you doing? Let me go.” I whisper-yell at him because I can’t actually yell at him unless I want the dean and everyone else to notice what’s going on. He doesn’t answer me; he just keeps climbing the stairs until we reach the top landing. At that point, I’m being tugged behind him, down a long hallway. He opens the final bedroom door on the right, pulling me inside, before closing us both in. The room is cast in shadows from the street lights glare that’s shining in the window. I immediately reach for the handle but the knob is locked and he has the skeleton key hidden on his person somewhere. I’m most certainly not going to pat him down to find it. He turns me around so my back is now against the cold wooden door before taking hold of both my hands. He raises my arms above my head and pushes them back, resting my knuckles against the wood.
“Don’t move your hands, Shelby,” He orders in a commanding tone, sending shivers from the top of my head, all the way down to my suddenly drenched panties. He inches forward until our bodies are as close as possible and it’s causing a tingling sensation between my legs. My breath leaves me in a nervous gasp as one of his hands touches my outer thigh.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He whispers huskily and the heat from his breath against my ear has me tipping my head back. He brushes my lobe with his lips and then nuzzles his nose against mine, locking his hazel eyes on me. He teases my lips with his, agonizingly slow, once, twice and finally a third time, before lightly holding them on mine. He’s not kissing me, he’s barely making contact with my lips at all, but just the hint of pressure and heat from his mouth is making me dripping wet with desire for him.
“These lips are mine, Shelby. They belong to me and only me.” One of his hands grips my thigh and the other hand undoes my French twist. He throws the clip to the side and it noisily clatters to the floor. His free hand slips into the hair at the nape of my neck, tugging my head back so it’s angled up at him. He roughly takes control of my mouth with his own, sliding his tongue inside to taunt and tease mine before he nips at my lips. I can’t keep up with all that he’s doing to me and I’m drowning in a sensual overload as he continues devouring my mouth. Oh God, I’ve never been so consumed by a kiss and I never want it to end.
Waiting for Love ((Waiting) Book 2) Page 3