A Gentleman's Agreement

by Avery, Joy

  Everyone at the table was laughing when Blake’s mother strolled in.

  “What’s so funny?” Mrs. Farrington asked.

  Oh, God, no.

  Luckily, the question was averted by Mr. Farrington’s entrance. “Boy, it’s cold as a mosquito’s peter out there.” He blew into his cupped hands.

  “Pop, what are you doing out there?” Blake asked, taking the heat off of Eunice.

  “Chopping firewood, son,” he said, removing his red and black lumberjack coat.

  “Firewood? Pop...isn’t the fireplace gas? What are you going to do with firewood?”

  “Gas prices are soaring higher than a bald eagle. Been thinking about converting the fireplace. Take it back old school.”

  Blake’s mother shook her head. “See what you have to look forward to?” she whispered to Eunice, then moved to Blake and rested her narrow hand on his back. “You look tired, son. Did you sleep okay?”

  The room rumbled with laughter.

  “Did we miss a joke?” Mr. Farrington asked, pulling his hands to his waist.

  “Construction joke Ian was telling,” Blake said, unknowingly saving Eunice from spontaneously combusting.

  Aunt Belle appeared in the doorway. “I was married to a construction worker once. He died. Slipped off a high beam and fell into a batch of cement.”

  Mr. Farrington’s lips parted, but he reconsidered whatever he was about to say. Instead, he tossed his hands in the air and left the room, pulling Mrs. Farrington with him.

  Eunice knew Aunt Belle’s dementia was all an act but couldn’t help but wonder if the woman had actually been married to all of those men. If so, bad luck definitely followed her and the men she’d wedded.

  “Daddy, may I have some more juice?” Casey asked.

  “Yeah, sweetie,” Ian said, filling her glass.

  Eunice smiled at Casey. She was so well-behaved. Her parents had done a fantastic job with her. Eunice couldn’t wait until she had one or two of her own. Definitely not the posse Blake had alluded to. Why was she even thinking about kids? She and Blake hadn’t been a couple a hot minute.

  “Daddy, why didn’t Mommy come to Grammy and Papa’s with us?”

  There was an instant shift in Ian’s demeanor. Clearly, Blake had witnessed it, too, because just as Ian had stepped in for him a few days ago, Blake reciprocated.

  Blake scooped his niece into his arms. “My little Casey Bear, do you want Uncle Blake to give you one of his famous pony rides?”

  You would have thought Blake offered the child a trunk full of candy by the way she reacted.

  “Yes! Uncle Blake, you give the best pony rides ever.”

  “Well, let’s go,” he said, leading the child out the room.

  Eunice glanced to Ian, a solemn expression hampering his features. A beat later, he left the room. Tucker and Vivian followed.

  “Secrets, secrets, secrets,” Aunt Belle said and left the room, too.

  Eunice got a feeling everything wasn’t as it should be in the Ian’s household. When Mrs. Farrington reentered the room to clean, Eunice shooed the woman away. Mrs. Farrington had played gracious host since she’d arrived; the least she could do was handle cleanup. Finally coaxing the woman out of the room, Eunice went to work.

  In the silence, her night with Blake played in her head. Waking in his arms had assured her she hadn’t dreamt the entire thing.

  “Do you need some help in here?”

  Tossing a glance over her shoulder, she smiled. Blake ambled toward her like a sexy titan. “I thought you were giving Casey a pony ride.”

  “Note to self, don’t bounce a child who’s just eaten her weight in French toast. Plus, my knee’s bothering me,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You made me work overtime.”

  “Shh,” she hissed, swatting at him. “Your parents might hear you.” Or worse, and eavesdropping Aunt Belle. The delicate kisses he placed on her neck caused her skin to prickle. “Behave yourself.”

  “Too late.” He ground his hardness against her butt cheeks.

  She gasped, then rotated to face him. “Blake! You put that thing away right now before your mother—or worse, Casey—comes in here. Try explaining your pant tent to an eight-year-old.”

  “I know exactly where I want to put it.” He captured her hand and pulled her toward the laundry room. Inside, he pressed her against the front-load washer.

  “I have dishes—”

  “The dishes aren’t going anywhere.”

  His mouth smashed against hers—hard. It was the most delicious pain she felt since… well, since the last time he pressed his lips against hers. “Blake we can’t— Not h— What if someone walks in? What about your knee?”

  He ignored her question, sliding his hand slid down the front of her sweatpants, then inside her panties. She moaned against his mouth as his fingers teased her. Maybe he was right. The dishes weren’t going anywhere.

  ***

  Blake stared wide-eyed at Ian when the words passed his brother’s lips. Damn. Judging by the astonished faces inside the room, everyone was just as stunned by Ian’s confession as he had been.

  “I knew something was wrong,” Their mother said. “Separated?” She pressed a hand into her chest. “Separated?” Her voice increased an octave when she repeated the word, as if trying to convince herself it was what Ian had actually said. “Separated?” The third time was barely audible.

  “We think it’s best,” Ian said, finally revealing to the family why his wife hadn’t spent the holiday with them.

  Blake had a hint something was going on, but separating from his wife? This was big.

  “It really is for the best,” Ian reemphasized.

  Blake was confused to say the least, because though Ian and Gabby had their moments—like any married couple, he imagined—he knew without a doubt Ian loved his wife. “Bro, surely the best thing can’t be to split up your family?”

  Ian studied his hands. “Everything is not always what it seems.”

  Ian definitely didn’t have to convince him.

  “Farringtons don’t walk out on their family, son,” his father said, who—up until this point—had remained silent.

  “Exactly, Daddy Farrington,” Vivian chimed in, then eyed Tucker. “Farringtons don’t walk out on their family. Including their church family.”

  Blake massaged the back of his neck. Now what?

  “Drop it, Viv,” Tucker said.

  Ignoring Tucker as she commonly did, Vivian continued, “Tucker has decided to leave the pulpit.”

  Blake jolted from the news. Tucker leaving the church? What the hell was going on around here?

  “Leaving the church? Tucker, is this true?” their mother asked.

  Tucker nodded.

  Their mother’s eyes settled on Blake, as if she were expecting him to be next in line to confess. And a couple of days ago, he would have been. But there was no need to tell her that his and Eunice’s relationship had all been a sham, because turns out…it wasn’t.

  When the doorbell rang, Blake released a sigh of relief. “That’s probably the car here to take us to the airport,” Blake said, pushing away from the dinner table. “I’ll have him come back later.” Now wasn’t the time to leave. His family was in crisis.

  Aunt Belle entered the room. “Blake, there’s some skinny little thing here to see you.”

  Blake stilled. “To see me?” Something told him things were about to go from bad to worst.

  “Surprise,” Sasha said, grinning bright enough to guide a 747 onto the landing strip.

  He choked on his own saliva. Finding his breath, he said, “Sasha. Wh— What are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t think I’d miss the opportunity to spend time with our family, did you?” She moved to him and placed a kiss on his lips before he could register to pull away.

  Tucker cleared his throat. And just as luck would have it, he looked past Sasha to see Eunice standing in
the doorway. Shit. The look in her eyes ripped at his gut.

  “Eunice?” Sasha’s face twisted into a tight ball. “What the hell is she doing here, Blake?”

  Ignoring Sasha’s words, Blake steadied his gaze on Eunice as she moved further into the room.

  In an easy tone, Eunice said, “Blake, what’s going on?”

  Sasha folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, Blake. What’s going on? Your girlfriend would like to know, too.”

  Eunice looked from Sasha to him. “Girlfriend?”

  Blake had no trouble interpreting the expression on Eunice’s face. Clearly, she thought he’d lied about his and Sasha’s relationship status. Eunice backed out of the room and moved down the hall.

  “I knew something was going on with you two. All the time— Eunice this, Eunice that.”

  Blake brushed past Sasha and sprinted down the hall after Eunice. “Eunice, wait.”

  Eunice spun on her heels, tears glistening in her eyes. “Last night—” Her expression turned somber. “Was last night a lie?”

  Firmly, he said, “Did anything about last night feel like a lie to you?”

  She didn’t respond, simply stared at him. He would have taken her into his arms right then and kissed her breathless if he didn’t think she would have bitten his tongue off.

  “Go ahead,” he challenged, “call last night a lie.”

  Sasha’s voice rumbled through the hall. “What happened last night?”

  Neither one acknowledge Sasha’s presence.

  “Okay. Y’all want to ignore me?”

  “Watch out, Blake! Duck!” His father called out from behind them. “She’s insane.”

  Blake wasn’t sure what was happening behind him, but he shielded Eunice from whatever it could be. A vase exploded into tiny shards when it hit the stone floor near them. This woman is crazy. When he glanced over his shoulder, Sasha was busy digging inside her oversized handbag.

  Aunt Bell scurried in the opposite direction from all the action. “She’s got a gun.”

  Eunice’s eyes grew wide as a saucer. “Gun?” She whimpered, then buried her head into his chest.

  Blake could feel his heart pounding in his throat. Amongst the chaos that ensued, the only thing his brain processed was protect Eunice. He shoved her toward the stairs. “Run.”

  Tucker and Ian rushed a deranged Sasha, but not before her arm leveled on Blake. She pulled the trigger and a crackling sound echoed off the walls. A second later, Blake wailed in pain and dropped to his knees. The high voltage rushing through him caused his body to spasm, then go limp.

  What he’d felt had to be akin to being struck by lightning or being dropped into an aquarium filled with angry electric eels. “Ahh,” he cried out in pain, thrashing on the floor like a fish out of water.

  Sasha barked a harsh laugh. “That’ll teach you to mess with me, sucker. Get off me. You’re next, you dirty tramp.”

  “Blake?” Eunice’s warm hand slid down his face as she cradled him in her arms. “Can you hear me? Please, Blake. Say something.”

  “Dial 9-1-1,” his mother yelled, her voice drawing nearer.

  Blake blinked rapidly, trying to focus. Eunice’s face slowly came into view. Her tears splattered across his cheek. “I— I don’t need an ambulance. I’m okay,” he said. Damn. He’d have never purchased Sasha a taser gun if he knew one day she’d use it on him.

  Even with the commotion around him, his concern was Eunice. The entire ordeal had to be traumatic for her, but she seemed more concerned with his wellbeing than anything else. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping her tears. “I never—”

  “I’m just glad you’re okay. Don’t ever scare me like that again,” she said, a quiver in her voice.

  “I won’t.”

  “You better get her out of here before I kill her,” his mother said.

  Ian dragged a kicking and screaming Sasha toward the front door.

  “I hate you, Blake Farrington. I hope that inch worm in your pants shrivel up and fall off.

  “Now hold on one damn minute. All the Farrington men are hung like donkeys.”

  “Solemn. Don’t you dare drop your pants in here,” his mother said.

  The front door slammed so hard, the pictures on the wall rattled.

  His mother hovered over him, but allowed Eunice to nurse him. “Get him some water, Tucker.”

  “I’m fine,” Blake said, finally finding the strength to sit up.

  “Let me help you up, son.” His father extended his hand for Blake to take. “One monkey don’t stop the show.”

  Blake grimaced when he put pressure on his knee. Ignoring his own pain, he cradled Eunice’s face between his hands. Tears streamed down her face. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, then shook her head. “No.”

  He cocooned her in his arms, and she sobbed into his chest. This was all his fault. He’d do whatever he needed to do to make it up to her.

  Chapter 15

  Before they’d left to return home, Eunice had a private conversation with Mrs. Farrington. There was no way she could’ve left Norfolk with the woman who’d treated her like family angry with her. Especially since now she really was dating her son.

  To Eunice’s surprise, Mrs. Farrington held no ill will toward her. Why had she expected anything less from the warmhearted woman? She’d also owned up to being a bit overzealous when it came to her sons and claimed to understand why Blake—who’d tried to take all of the blame—had done what he’d done. In the end, it’d all worked out. She’d even talked him out of pressing charges against Sasha—her good deed of the decade for as difficult as it was.

  With her head resting on the soft leather, Eunice watched the clouds dance outside the jet window. Yes, she was thrilled to be traveling home, but also concerned. Now that they were no longer surrounded by the magic at the Farrington estate, what would happen? Her feelings for Blake wouldn’t fade, but would his?

  She rotated her head to face him. Poor thing. He gnawed at his nails and bounced his leg in rapid succession. Some people should just stick to trains and automobiles.

  Stopping suddenly, Blake perked in his seat. “Did you feel that?”

  “Feel…what?”

  His eyes roamed the cabin. “Vibration.”

  It’d probably been his own frantic leg movement he’d felt. “No.”

  Just then, the pilot sounded over the intercom, announcing their landing in approximately twenty minutes.

  “Did he sound strange to you? Was his tone shaky? Like he was trying to hide something. You don’t think there’s a problem, do you? Nah,” he said, answering his own question and relaxing against the cushion. A beat later, he jolted forward again. “Surely, he’d tell us if there was a problem, right?”

  She waited a moment to see if he’d answer himself again. When he didn’t she said, “I’m sure he would.”

  Blake crossed his ankle over his knee, uncrossed it, and crossed it again. “He looked awfully young to be a pilot. How many actual flying hours do you think he has?” He made a move to stand. “Maybe I should ask him.”

  “Down, boy,” she said, restricting his movement. “Look at me, Blake.” When he did, she said, “We’re fine. We’re okay. Believe.”

  Eunice watched some of the tension release from his shoulders. He nodded. “You’re right. I’m tripping. I’m sure that man has thousands of flying hours.” He reclined his head and closed his eyes, but opened them again. “Are we okay?”

  “This aircraft is not going to plummet from the sky. Trust me.”

  “Not that.” He shifted toward her. “Are we okay? I never meant for you to get caught up in my—”

  She pressed a finger to his lips. “We’re good. Like your father said, one monkey don’t stop the show.”

  They shared a moment of needed laughter.

  She eased her head onto the headrest and stared into Blake’s eyes. “Will things change, Blake?”

  “What?”

  “When we return to
life as normal. Will things change between us?”

  Blake mimicked her, resting his head against the cushion. “We’re already in life as normal. When I’m with you, I feel more normal than I ever have.”

  “What happens when we’re no longer able to hide our relationship?” For some reason, a swollen belly popped into her head. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that when they’d made love in the laundry room, they hadn’t used protection. Damn you, temptation.

  “Why should we have to?”

  She hadn’t expected that as his response, but the words made her smile. “You want to tell people about us?”

  He kissed the back of her hand. “I want to tell the world about us. But if you’re concerned, I’ll respect whatever decision you make.”

  Her real concern at the moment was Sasha. What if the woman showed up and out Monday morning, ranting to whoever would listen that she’d stolen Blake from her. Had Blake even considered Sasha pulling a stunt at his office like the one she’d pulled at his parents’ house?

  “I think I want to keep it under wraps. Just a little while longer. I’m not really ready to be the focus of office gossip. The rumors. The whispers. The scowls.”

  “Scowls?”

  “Yes, scowls. There’s not a single woman in the building who wouldn’t love to be spending their nights with Blake Farrington. That tall, dark, gorgeous, sexy bachelor,” she said, repeating things she’d overheard.

  He flashed a confident smile. “Even you?”

  She smoothed a hand over his stubble. “Especially me. You’ve made me a target.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He leaned in close. “Now kiss me, woman. I need something to take my mind off the fact we’re thirty thousand feet off the ground.”

  Eunice pressed an index finger into his lips. “I have to go to the bathroom.” She stood and started away. Over her shoulder, she said, “You should come with me.”