by Sam Crescent
She had to be realistic here.
There’s no chance of there ever being more than what they had. He was a teacher, and she a student. This … what they had, it was as good as it got.
There was going to come a day soon when she was going to have to leave. That her graduation would push her to the next step.
Leaving him though, it made her feel sick inside. It devastated her.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to talk about it, not yet. Neither of them really knew what was going on with each other.
“Then I won’t get it all cut off.”
“It’s lovely.”
She watched as he ran his fingers through it before wrapping it around his fist, giving it a gentle tug.
“See, it has its uses.” He pulled her head back, and she moaned as he pressed a kiss to her lips.
“Then the hair stays.”
“Good, and you’re not using me for sex. You’re not completely well just yet.”
“I feel fine, and I’ve not vomited for an entire day.”
“Don’t care. We’re going down to have some toast, and you’re sticking to water as well. I don’t like you being ill, and I’m the one in charge of taking care of you. I get the deciding vote.” He dropped a kiss to her lips. “Care to argue?”
“No, sir.” She gave him a weird salute and then burst out laughing. “So, have you talked to your parents yet?”
“Nope, and I don’t plan on it either. Not yet anyway.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know exactly how that conversation will go. We’ll start with the usual pain in the ass reprimand. That nothing was more important than finishing dinner. How they worked hard all year to see me and that they hated me just walking out. Then it will move to topics about the women they’d decided to invite. So more boring stuff.”
“None of them appealed to you?” she asked, nibbling on her lip.
“None of them. Why would I want anyone else when I have perfection right here?”
“Perfection, huh?”
“My own little virgin canvas.”
Again, his lips felt so utterly good, and she didn’t want his touch to end. She felt driven toward him, like a moth to a flame.
“Okay, so lots of ladies.”
“Yeah, how I’m getting older. That I need to settle down. Find a decent wife that they accept, and think is good to have the Parker genes mixed with. Then we’d move to teaching. How they don’t approve of it.”
“They don’t?”
“My family is rich, Lucia. I told you that. They have a fortune and are two of the top lawyers in the country. My family has also dealt with stocks and shares, which was what my grandfather did. They made a fortune, so they have certain expectations.”
“You don’t live up to them?”
“If I was in a prestigious, elitist school, yes. Where I’m working, they think I’m doing it to make a mockery of them.”
“I hate to say this, Jack. Your parents don’t sound all that great. You’re a fantastic teacher.”
“I love it. I kept it a secret from them for a long time.”
“What do you mean?”
“In college. I didn’t tell them that was the path I wanted to go. They were hoping I’d get over my silly nonsense and just go to law school.”
She wrinkled her nose.
“I think what you’re doing is really pretty great.”
He was still brushing her hair, and he looked at her in the mirror. “Thank you. It’s something you’ve got to learn to do. People will walk all over you in this life if they think they have a shot at it. Don’t live a life that others want you to, Lucia. Be the woman you want to be. Have the career you want.”
“I don’t know what it is I want.”
“You will when you’re ready. There’s nothing wrong with having this indecision.”
“My parents wouldn’t think that. They are always telling me how they wanted to be a lawyer and research scientist most of my life. How life is way too short to be taking one’s time in deciding your fate.”
Jack finished combing her hair. His hands landed on her shoulders. “It’s still your life, Lucia. That’s what they can’t change.”
“Is that what you finally decided? That you were the master of your life?”
“Yes. You need to see it as well.” He leaned down again, kissing her cheek.
He was about to say something more, but the phone began to ring again.
“I have a feeling that is your parents.”
“I’ll go and answer it.”
As she moved away from the desk, she missed his touch so much, but forced herself to keep on walking. Grabbing the phone, she lifted it to her ear.
She clearly wasn’t well because she felt exhausted.
“Hello,” she said.
“Honey,” her mother said.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
“Why have you not been answering the phone? Your father and I have been so worried.”
“I’ve actually been pretty sick. I’ve spent the past couple of days in bed. I’ve not been able to come to the phone.”
She watched Jack roll his eyes and shake his head.
Pressing her lips together, she tried not to smile, but that didn’t seem to work. It wasn’t funny, and yet it was at the same time. Weird.
“Oh, no, what was wrong?” she asked.
Lucia told her what had happened, leaving out the collapsing in the bathroom, and instead told her about landing in bed, and just not leaving apart from to vomit.
“I cleaned everything up though. I’m feeling better now. I’ve kept down a little soup.”
“We need to come home. We’ll cut this trip short and be right there.”
“No,” Lucia said. She didn’t want this to end with Jack. He was at her home, taking care of her, and she loved his company so much.
“Lucia?”
“No, you really don’t need to do that. I’m perfectly fine, honestly. Stay for the rest of your trip. You’ve still got a few more days, and I bet you’re loving London.”
“It is amazing here, Lucia. We’ve not stayed in London though. We’ve actually been traveling.”
Her stomach twisted. “You have?”
“Yes, we’ve gone through some little towns and villages that are just the most delightful thing.”
Her parents rarely traveled.
“You’d love it here, Lucia. It’s so beautiful.”
“Oh.”
“Here’s your father.”
She heard her mother quickly speak, updating him on the fact she’d been ill.
Licking her lips, she gripped the edge of the kitchen counter as Jack got to work on the toast and tea. He’d said water, but she was going to try to convince him to at least let her have tea. Her mother had some English brand from her last trip, and she’d taken an instant liking to it.
“Hey, honey.”
They were always calling her honey.
It never ceased to make her smile, especially as she hated honey. The stuff tasted vile to her.
“Hey, Dad. Mom said that you’re having a blast.”
“We really are. We’ve gotten the time to explore. In the U.K. they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving so we’re not dealing with any traffic or closed shops. It’s been amazing for traveling, cold but not unreasonable.”
“It’s snowed here a few times. You’d have loved it.”
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Yes, I am. Much better. In fact, I’m gonna go. Toast and stuff.”
“Okay, well take care and we love you.”
“Love you too.”
She hung up the phone, resting her chin on top of it.
“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.
She looked up at him and frowned. “Sorry?”
“You look worried. Did they suspect anything?”
“No, they never would suspect anything.”
“What’s wrong then?” he asked, turning to her, hand on hip.
For just a few short seconds she could imagine that they were living on their own like any other normal couple. That she’d not called her parents and lied about taking care of herself.
This was all normal.
“Nothing really. I’m … they’ve been going to London and the U.K. for some time now, but in the past year, their visits have increased and I’m just worried.”
“You think they’re planning on moving?”
“I know they’re wanting to move. I even saw the information from the real estate agent to sell this place.”
“They’re still undecided?”
“I don’t know. They’ve not said a word about it to me. They’re keeping it from me.”
“And that bothers you?”
“Yes, it does. I don’t want to move.” She looked past his shoulder. “This has been my home for a long time. I don’t want to move or relocate.”
Jack stepped toward her, pulling her into his arms.
She closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest.
“You’re ill. I don’t want you worrying about anything right now.”
She held onto his back, breathing in his warm scent.
“We can worry about everything else some other time.”
He rubbed her back and moved away. They sat together at the dining room table. He sipped his coffee, and she stared at her water.
“Can’t I have a cup of tea? Pretty please?”
He was reading the paper and looked so sexy with his inked arms on display. He wore a short-sleeved shirt that did wonders for his muscular arms.
“It’s got milk in it. I don’t want you to have anything that will turn your stomach. Be happy that you’ve got butter on your toast.”
She giggled. “I want something warm.” She batted her eyelashes, and he rolled his eyes.
“And if you’re sick?”
“We’ll know that I’m really poorly and it was my bad. Please, pretty please.”
She wasn’t too embarrassed to beg him.
He sighed but got to his feet.
She watched him walk into the kitchen and make a cup of tea.
“You know how to make it?”
“Yes. I’ve visited London a couple of times. It’s not a strange thing, tea.”
She laughed, and he came back, cup in hand.
“I hope you’re not sick.” He kissed her head and took his seat again at the table. She blew over the surface of the liquid and watched him.
He was concentrating on the words in front of him, and she couldn’t look away. This felt … amazing. Like it was a glimpse into a future that she could possibly have.
Could it be possible?
Could she have a life with him?
It seemed almost too good to even be true.
She sipped her tea, nibbled her toast, and instead of ruining the mood, she watched him, basking in every single second.
Once he was done with the paper, he drank the last of his coffee. When he got to his feet, he stroked her shoulder then took her empty plate into the kitchen.
It was the little things, like the touches, the tenderness, the sweetness that he showed her. She craved him so much.
Jack hadn’t forced her into anything.
Far from it.
She’d been with him every single step of the way and then more so.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, coming to her side, pressing a hand to her head.
“I’m fine. You need to stop worrying.”
“It seems when it comes to you, I’m always going to worry.”
She took his hand and smiled. “I’m okay for now.”
“Come on.” He led her into the sitting room. He sat down on the sofa, and she lay down beside him.
Jack wrapped a blanket around her, then took control of the remote, flicking through the channels. He settled onto a movie about dancing.
“You know I’ve never danced before,” she said.
“I watched you dancing with Marie.”
“No, I mean with a guy who’s not my dad. I’ve never danced with a guy before.”
He sighed. “That is easily rectified.” He changed the channel to a music one, and she watched as he moved the coffee table out of the way.
Within the next second, his hand was inside hers, and his other at her back as he held her in the middle of the sitting room.
“Dancing is easy.”
“You took dancing lessons?”
“No. But all it takes is to hold one another, and move to the beat of the music, or not. Just do what comes naturally to you.”
He held her hand against his chest, and they moved slowly from side to side.
“Do you want to get married?” she asked.
“Sorry?”
“You mentioned about your parents trying to set you up. Do you see marriage? Kids? That kind of thing in your future?”
“I don’t know. I guess one day I will. There hasn’t been a woman that has made me want to take that next step.”
His words both delighted and gutted her.
She didn’t let it show though.
“What about you?”
“One day, I imagine I will. I want a family. That I do know. Maybe a son or daughter. Being an only child sucks big time.”
“I agree.”
“We’re in the only children club,” she said. “My parents didn’t even plan on one child, let alone a second.”
“What do you want? If you ever settled down and had kids?”
“I’d love both. A boy and girl. To be honest, I don’t care. It’s not like I can order one of each. I’d just take whatever was on offer. Consequences be damned and all that.”
“You’d be an amazing mom.”
“You think so?” she asked.
“I know so. Everything you do, Lucia, you do to the best of your ability.”
“That’s the teacher in you.”
“Yep. I just can’t seem to help it.”
“Well, Mr. Parker, do you grade me in all areas?”
“Nope, but if I did, you’d get an A plus.”
She giggled. “I would?”
“Yes.”
She tried to ignore the yawn, but Jack caught it.
“It’s time for you to rest.”
“I don’t want to rest. Can’t we just dance until the end of this song?”
“Yes, we can.”
She rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes, not wanting to move. It felt good to be in his arms.
All of her worries drifted away as he held her.
He’d take care of her, she knew that. What they shared was more than just a bit of fun. It was the real deal, and no one could take that away from them.
****
Thanksgiving break was almost over, and Lucia was better. She wasn’t completely well but the worst was finished with, and she was on the road to recovery. Jack didn’t want it to end. For the first time in his thirty years, he’d played pretend.
Instead of seeing it as her parents’ home, he’d imagined it being his own. That they weren’t sneaking around and trying not to get caught. He’d slept in her bed with Lucia in his arms, watching her sleep. Every night he held her tightly, and in the morning, she was still there in his arms.
He’d never gone to bed with a woman or been there the next morning to tell the tale.
He wasn’t the kind of guy to do something like this.
Yes, he’d fucked his fair share of women, and gotten a reputation as being the love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. With Lucia, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. He craved her smile, relished every laugh, and wanted her touch every single fucking day. She’d gotten under his skin, and he didn’t want to shake her.
She was inside his head.
He stared down at her, and she looked so peaceful in sleep. Teasing a strand of her brown hair back off her face, he smiled. She was so precious to him, beautiful.
Her eyes opened, and she sighed. “Morning.”
> “Morning, beautiful.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “I’ve got morning breath.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got morning breath too.”
She giggled. “How long have you been watching me sleep?”
“Enough to know that you don’t snore all the time.”
She gasped. “I can’t believe you’d bring that up.”
“I can’t help it. You bring the worst out in me. Besides, you need to know what you’re getting yourself into. You know, if you ever date.”
The smile slipped a little, and he wanted to kick himself. He didn’t want to hurt her. It was the last thing on his fucking mind.
“You’re right, but who would want to date someone who snored?” she asked. “I’m confused. It is way too early to be talking about snoring and dating. Another time, maybe.”
“Yeah, another time. You don’t have to date though. You’ve got me, and I don’t mind your little snores. I find them so very cute.” He dropped a kiss to her lips, and she cupped his face, doing that little moan that he loved.
“I’ve loved this Thanksgiving,” she said.
“Really? Vomiting, being sick, ill, and pretty much passed out with exhaustion has been your best week?”
She tapped his shoulder. “You know what I mean. That part sucked, but I loved being with you. Having this. It has been a dream. Honestly.”
He was about to say something when the sound of doors slamming and voices could be heard.
Lucia gasped. “My parents. What the hell are they doing back?”
She quickly jumped over him, running toward the window. She opened the curtain and gasped. “Shit, it is them.”
Getting to his feet, she rushed toward the door, closing it.
“You’re going to have to be quiet,” she said.
“Do they ever storm into your room?” he asked.
The front door opened.
“No. Just … crap. I’ll be calm. Is anything of yours downstairs?”
“No.” He quickly pulled on his pants and buckled them up. “Go, slow them down.”
She grabbed a robe, rushed to his side, and cupped his face. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
He sank his fingers into her hair, not wanting to let her go but knowing he didn’t have a choice.
The harsh reality of their situation had come crashing down around them, and there was no hiding from it.
She pulled away, and he had no choice but to watch her go. She closed the door behind her, and he quickly pulled on his boots.