A Gentleman's Agreement

by Avery, Joy

  “Hey. What’s up?”

  “We were just planning your wedding,” Ian said.

  “Wedding?” That had to be a joke. Him and marriage? That didn’t even go together in the same sentence.

  “Don’t listen to him, son,” his mother said. “We’re discussing the hunting trip in the morning. How’s Eunice? Should I fix her a cup of warm green tea?”

  “She’s asleep.” Blake slid onto one of the stools. “Pop, would you be upset if I backed out of the trip this year? I think I should hang around in case Eunice needs anything.”

  Ian and Tucker exchanged glances with their father.

  Blake chuckled. “Okay. What are all the looks about?”

  His father clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Son, you have made me the happiest man alive.”

  Blake arched a brow. “By choosing to stay behind with Eunice?”

  “No. By not wanting to go hunting.”

  “Thank you, Jesus,” Tucker said.

  Ian wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. “Whew.”

  Blake held up his hand. “Wait, wait, wait. None of you like going hunting?”

  “Son, it’s not that we don’t like it… Ah, hell. Yes, it is. I freeze my ass off in those woods. The only part I love is bonding with my boys.” He tossed them all glances of admiration. “But we can do that in the warmth of the cigar room.”

  They all shared a good laugh.

  “Why didn’t anyone say anything before now?” Blake asked.

  Tucker rested his hand on Blake’s shoulder. “We know how much you love it.”

  Blake laughed again. “Love is a bit of a stretch. Like Dad, I just enjoyed being with you cats.”

  “Awww,” Ian and Tucker said in unison.

  Ian approached Blake with outstretched arms. “Let’s all give Prat a group hug.”

  All three men descend on him, wrapping arms around him and jostling him playfully.

  “All right, all right,” their mother said. “Don’t smother my baby.”

  “Momma’s boy,” Ian said, thumping his ear. “I’m going to say goodnight, family. Big day tomorrow. I need to get a good night’s sleep. Need to be rested for all of that good food I’m going to eat.” He kissed their mother and was gone.

  Tucker stretched his arms toward the ceiling. “Yeah, I better call it a night, too. Casey wore me out. That little girl has some energy.”

  “Night, bro,” Blake said, giving Tucker a fist bump before he, too, escaped the room.

  “I’m going to follow you out, son. You have to finish telling me about those crazy church members of yours.” His father turned to his mother. “You need anything, baby, before I head up?”

  His mother smiled warmly. “No. I’ll be up shortly.”

  Blake smiled when his parent’s kissed. It wasn’t long and hard, but it was full of affection. Maybe he could make an alteration to his earlier stance on marriage. If he found the rareness his parents were blessed with, maybe, just maybe, he would take the plunge into marital bliss.

  He chuckled to himself. What the hell was he saying?

  “Night, son,” his father said, clapping his shoulder on the way out.

  “Night, Pop.”

  “Can I fix you something to eat?” his mother asked.

  “Mom, you have been waiting on everyone hand and foot since we arrived. Can I fix you something?”

  She brushed his words away. “Go on. You know I don’t mind a bit. I’m just—”

  His mother covered her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. Blake was off the stool and by her side in record time, holding her at arm’s length. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I’m just so happy all of my boys are here.” She patted him on the cheek. “That’s all.” She dapped at her eyes. “I’m fine. Just so happy.”

  Though her words rang sincere, Blake wasn’t wholly convinced she was being completely honest with him. Instead of pushing the subject, he draped his arms around her and held her close. “We’re happy to be here, too, Mom.”

  He kissed the top of her head and hoped that everything was truly okay.

  Chapter 10

  Propped against the slippery shower wall, Eunice’s elevated leg shook atop the shower bench. Two fingers kneaded her hardened nipple as the sensation between her legs curled her toes.

  “Eunice.”

  “I’m... I’m coming, Blake,” she said as a powerful orgasm hit her, forcing her to grip the top of the shower door to keep from collapsing to the floor.

  “How much longer? I really need to get in there,” Blake continued from the opposite side of the door.

  Eunice gasped for enough air to respond. “Two...minutes.”

  Gathering herself, she shut the water off. Had she really just masturbated with Blake standing on the opposite side of the door? Staggering across the room, she dragged her hand over the bathroom mirror to remove the condensation, then leaned against the granite countertop. When the doorknob rattled, she thanked God she’d locked the door.

  Blake groaned. “Are you almost done in there?”

  Eunice rested her hand on her trembling stomach. “Get it together, girl.”

  “What?”

  She pulled the door open and lurched from Blake’s solid frame filling the doorway. He bounced back and forth, cupping his crotch like a two-year-old. She tested the gather in her towel, as if his presence would cause it to unravel and fall into a puddle at her feet. “What are you doing?”

  Blake stilled and fixed his eyes on the towel. “I…have to pee,” he said absently.

  “You could have come in. I would have closed my eyes.” The words drew Blake’s eyes back to hers.

  “Liar.”

  Yeah, he was probably right. He placed his hands on her bare shoulders, sending a wave of heat coursing through her.

  “Happy turkey day,” he said, then ushered her out the way. “By the way, your phone is buzzing like crazy. I guess someone is missing you.”

  “My aunt I’m sure.” Since Trevor was somewhere in the middle of the ocean, and those were the only two people who’d be missing her.

  “I tried to come in. The door was locked. Did you think I’d peek at you or something?”

  Ignoring him, she said, “There are like forty more bathrooms in this place; you could have used one of them.”

  “I like this bathroom. Besides, I’m not sure I could have made it down the stairs.”

  “That’s what you get for waiting until the last min—” Eunice paused as Blake fought with the string in his pajama pants. The action drew her eyes to the impression straining against the thin fabric. Was he—? Oh, God, he was. Hard. As a brick if she had to give a comparison. She turned away quickly. Sharing a bed with him already had her body scrambled enough; she definitely didn’t need to see that.

  He didn’t appear the least bit bashful about his condition. Temptation nearly got the best of her. Could a little peek really hurt? Ugh. Using her better judgment, she moved away from the door.

  “Has anyone ever told you you’re like a starfish when you sleep?” Blake asked.

  “A starfish?”

  “Yeah. Your arms and legs are sprawled all over the place.”

  “This coming from the man whose knee dug into my kidneys most of the night? Are you almost done in there? I do need to get dressed.”

  Blake exited the bathroom, his eyes drinking her up. A jolt of nervousness rattled her, but she wasn’t about to show weakness. It was all she could do to keep her eyes from trailing to his crotch. It was like his loins were calling her name. “Eunice. Eunice.” She mentally kicked him between the legs to quiet them.

  He slowly pulled his attention from her and turned away. A beat later he removed his shirt. Eunice rooted to the floor, her eyes pinning to him. Muscles cut and curved over every solid inch of his back. Each time he made a move, they flexed and rippled.

  Her lips parted, and “Mercy” escaped.

  Blake faced her. As if the sight of his back hadn�
��t been torture enough, his chest had to add to the mix. Her eyes roamed over his pecs, down his torso, and to the pronounced six-pack nestled snuggly at his midsection.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  Awareness kicked in, alerting Eunice to the fact that she was staring. Really staring. Ogling. But dammit, she couldn’t look away. Three months of abstinence decided to flex its muscles. If that weren’t enough, Blake’s troublesome loins called to her again; unfortunately, this time she answered.

  Her eyes roamed over his bulge, discovering he hadn’t been hard after all. It’d been his actual girth. No wonder he hadn’t seemed embarrassed. He had absolutely no reason to be. She may or may not have licked her lips. It was all a blur.

  The dizzying affect of arousal made her head spin and she could feel her body swaying. Like lightning, Blake moved across the room and steadied her with both hands on her waist. She closed her eyes to find equilibrium. Once she was sure the moment had passed, her eyes opened. “I said merci. It’s thank you in French. For coming out of the bathroom.” To be dazed, she lied fairly well.

  The quizzical expression on his face melted into a half-smile. “You’re welcome. I’m at your service.”

  Had he really needed to add a wink? The longer his hands lingered on her, the tighter her nipples budded and the more heat pooled between her legs. Taking a step backwards removed her from his grip. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said, darting across the floor before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

  “Shouldn’t you get dressed first?”

  Eunice turned on a dime, redirecting her steps toward the bathroom. “Yes.”

  Ten minutes later, she headed down the stairs. Checking the notifications on her phone, she had three text messages. She paused when she realized they were from Caleb Martin.

  I hope you have a happy Thanksgiving. Be safe. Caleb

  She and Caleb had entertained a brief fling. More accurately, a friends-with-benefits type situation. Nothing serious. Although he’d wanted more—way more than she was willing to give—she’d told him they could only be friends...with benefits. For one, he wasn’t someone she could see herself with long term. And for two, he was Palmer Elliot’s right-hand man. That definitely would have created workplace turbulence.

  Eunice imagined Blake’s reaction if he knew that, at one time, she’d been sleeping with the enemy. The image that played in her head wasn’t pretty. Though she and Caleb hadn’t slept together in months, they still communicated occasionally. He had information she needed and with a little finessing, she knew he’d give it to her.

  Typing back a quick response: Thx. U 2, she continued her descent.

  “Good morning, sweetie,” Mrs. Farrington said.

  Eunice wrapped her arms around the woman. “Good morning.” When Eunice realized what she’d done, she was about to pull away and apologize, but Mrs. Farrington held her close and glided her hand up and down her back.

  “I hope you feel better. I was so worried about you. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I slept great. And I feel so much better, thank you. I’m sorry if I—”

  Holding her at arm’s length, Mrs. Farrington said, “Don’t you dare apologize.” She patted her cheek. “Sit. I’ll fix you a plate.”

  One thing Eunice had noticed about Blake’s mother—actually, two things: she loved taking care of people, and she loved to cook. “You don’t have to do that, Mrs. Farrington.” Even though she’d asked her to call her Thelma, out of respect, Eunice just couldn’t do it.

  “Sit.”

  Eunice laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Prat still asleep?”

  “No, he’ll be down shortly.” Eunice took a seat at the island as Mrs. Farrington prepared her plate. “I enjoyed myself at The Farm. I haven’t had that much fun since your anniversary party. Excluding my getting sick on the side of the road.”

  “We’re just all glad you’re feeling better. Especially Blake. He was really worried about you.” She flashed another one of her warm smiles.

  Eunice recall how he’d comforted her on the side of the road and again when they’d arrived back at the estate. Mrs. Farrington started to speak again, and Eunice scattered the thoughts of how wonderful it felt laying next to Blake and gazing into his hypnotic eyes.

  “You should see The Farm at Christmas. Solemn really outdoes himself. That man conquers anything he put his mind to.”

  Eunice understood where Blake got it from. “You two make me smile. What you and Mr. Farrington have is what every woman wishes for.”

  Mrs. Farrington glanced up at her. “Forty years and counting. I thank God for every second, and pray for many more years with him.”

  Eunice accepted the mile high plate. If Mrs. Farrington kept insisting on fixing her breakfast, she’d be twenty pounds heavier by the time they left. “How did the two of you meet?” Eunice asked, dipping her spoon into a bowl of buttered grits Mrs. Farrington had just slid her way.

  “I got this.”

  Both women redirected their attention. Mr. Farrington sauntered into the room, a wide smile stretched across his face.

  “I was on my way to football practice,” Mr. Farrington said. “I’m not sure what prompted me, but I glanced to my right.” He turned his head as if he were reliving the moment. “Just as I did, the most gorgeous bluebird I’d ever seen perched on the stone bench next to Thelma. Seconds later, I lie to you not, this bird started to sing to her. A melody so soothing it rooted me to where I stood.”

  Eunice glanced to Mrs. Farrington for confirmation. When the woman nodded, Eunice smiled.

  “When Thelma’s hand moved toward the creature, I thought for sure it would fly away. Do you know that bird didn’t budge. Simply nibbled the crumb of bread she offered it. I remember thinking, how in the world was that possible?”

  Mr. Farrington gazed off as if he were trying to make sense of what had happened so many years ago. He finally snapped back to reality and continued, “I asked myself, what was it about that girl that beckoned one of God’s most angelic creatures to her side? I was completely blown away by what was unfolding right in front of my eyes. And if that wasn’t enough, she took a delicate finger and smoothed it over the bluebird’s head. It didn’t flinch.”

  Eunice nibbled her toast, hanging to Mr. Farrington’s every word. He ran a hand over his head, a perplexed look on his face. What was going through his mind? Eunice grew eager for him to continue.

  Mr. Farrington leaned against the counter. “I convinced myself something about her was magical. I approached Thelma from behind, trying not to startle her or the bird. The second I was as close to her as that bird, I completely understood what that bird must have experienced.”

  He stared at his wife with the most delicate eyes Eunice had ever witnessed. A wave of emotion rushed over her, but she willed herself not to cry.

  “There was an energy that radiated from her. I felt it through my entire being. I rounded that bench, looked her square in the eyes and said—”

  “We’re going to have a wonderful and beautiful life together,” Mrs. Farrington said, finishing her husband’s thought.

  Eunice caught a tear before it slid down her cheek. “That is so romantic. What did you say, Mrs. Farrington?”

  “I rolled my eyes, snatched up the book I’d been reading, and stormed away. I didn’t have time for his foolishness.”

  Eunice laughed. “You walked away?”

  Mr. Farrington slapped his hand against the marble top. “Yep, she sure did. I couldn’t believe it either. I was the star football player, most popular boy in the school, and she flat-out rejected me.” A sly smile spread across his face. “But as my father instilled in me, and I my boys…never give up. I was determined to make her mine.”

  “Yes, he was,” Mrs. Farrington said, a warm smile touching her lips.

  Mr. Farrington tilted his head and eyed Eunice. “Can you believe this woman turned me down ten—”

  “Eleven,” Mrs.
Farrington corrected.

  “Eleven times before finally agreeing to go on a date with me.”

  Eunice eyed Mrs. Farrington. “Why did you finally agree to go out with him?”

  “I was tired of him stalking me. There every morning when I stepped out of my front door to walk to school. Followed me through the halls of the school. Trailed me home nearly every day after school.”

  “You were persistent,” Eunice said.

  Mrs. Farrington scoffed. “He was a pest.”

  “I like to call it recognizing a good thing,” Mr. Farrington said with a chuckle.

  They all laughed.

  Eunice tuned into them like they were her favorite sitcom. “The date… How was it?”

  “My goal was to be the worst companion possible. That way he would finally leave me alone.” Mrs. Farrington rested her hands on either side of Mr. Farrington’s face. “But I fell in love with him that night.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “I’ve loved him more and more with every passing second.”

  Just then, Blake entered the room. “Oh, God. My parents are making out in front of my girlfriend. Are you as traumatized as I am?”

  Eunice liked the way girlfriend rolled off of Blake’s tongue so effortlessly. She admired him in a pair of dark denim jeans and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Swallowing hard helped her to steady her eyes on him and not his body. “It’s not traumatic; it’s romantic.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re telling the ‘how I met your mother story.’”

  Eunice swatted Blake. “It’s a great story. Please continue. Why were you so against dating him?”

  Mrs. Farrington studied her husband for a beat. “I was skeptical.”

  “Skeptical?” Blake asked as if he’d never heard this part of the tale. He took a seat beside Eunice at the counter. “Why skeptical?”

  “Your father could have had any girl in that schoolhouse or the next. They all wanted to be with this tall, chocolate, handsome man. He was a Farrington. And women—young and old—used to love those smooth-talking Farrington brothers.”