by Roya Carmen
“Oh, I don’t know if I can take any more surprises, Weston. I’m exhausted.”
He smiles, but doesn’t say a thing.
“And I still need to go cook dinner and give Ethan his bath.”
“Well, that’s my surprise,” he cheers. “We’re making you dinner. At my place.”
“Really?” I’m liking the sound of this.
“How does veal piccata with capers, pasta, grilled eggplant and homemade bread sound to you?”
“Well, I don’t know about the eggplant, but the rest sounds delicious.”
He presses the elevator button. “It’s all taken care of.”
We all step into the elevator, and as I reach for the 2 button, he stops me. “We’re all going up to the penthouse.”
“Right now?”
He smiles. “Yes, Ashton and Lizzie are working on dinner as we speak.”
“You have them for the weekend?”
“Yes, Bridget was kind enough to tweak the schedule. I wanted them home tonight. I want all of us to spend time together.”
“They’re making me dinner?” I ask, flabbergasted.
He takes my hand. “Yes… they like you a lot, Gretchen. They know what you and Ethan mean to me. We talk about you all the time.” He smiles. “They were on to us straight from the beginning. They’re happy for me.”
“Well, kids can be a lot more perceptive than we give them credit for.”
I’m not sure what this all means. I’m not sure if it excites me. Or if it scares me.
Ashton and Lizzie are both sporting aprons. They smile at us when we come in. “Nice turtle, kid,” Ashton says.
Ethan smiles wide. He’s proud of his turtle.
“Daddy!” A flustered Lizzie hands her dad a sheet of paper covered with scribbles. “Does this say 375 degrees?”
Weston smiles. “Yes.”
“Oh good, I wasn’t sure if it said 350.”
“The bread is ready,” Ashton tells him. “Looks good.”
Weston turns to me. “You’ll have to excuse me. I need to take over in the kitchen, check on everything. You two can make yourselves comfortable in the living room.
He turns to his daughter. “Could you offer them something to drink?”
“Sure,” she says with a smile.
As Ethan and I head over to the living room, I can’t help thinking that his children are exceptionally polite and sweet. But how could they not be? They’re Weston’s.
Ethan and I flip through the Architectural Digests, and when we get thoroughly bored with that, we discuss a possible name for his turtle. Finally, after much debate, we decide to name him Crush, after the cool sea turtle in Finding Nemo. Admittedly, we are not exactly original.
“So there’s Dumbo and Crush. What about your new monkey?” I say. “What should we call him?”
“Dinner is finally ready,” Weston announces, all smiles.
“Yes,” I practically squeal. “I’m famished.”
“Glad to hear it.” He leads us to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaits us. Ashton is busy pouring water, and Elizabeth is setting down dishes. Salad, cooked green beans, baked eggplant, veal and pasta.
My stomach growls at the sight. “Wow, did you two really do all this?”
They both smile. “With Daddy’s help,” Lizzie offers.
Weston pulls a chair for Ethan. There’s already a booster seat with a tray secured to it. My heart swells to twice its size. He’s thought of everything.
He helps me get Ethan secured in his seat, and then he pulls a chair for me.
“Why, thank you, Sir. You are such a gentleman.”
Finally, following what seems like an eternity, we are all seated with eager stomachs.
“Bon Appétit!” Weston cheers. “Let’s dig in.”
We all help ourselves, and the conversation flows smoothly. Ashton talks about his driving course, and Lizzie goes on about a new friend she’s made at school. I savor every bite. It is really good. Even the eggplant is tasty. I’m happy to just listen and eat as the kids jabber away. Before long, the conversation turns to me, and we chat about the work I do for their father, and the daycare Ethan attends.
“He’s really cute,” Lizzie says. “I like that he doesn’t cry.”
“Yep… he’s pretty much always happy.”
Weston and I steal glances here and there. I love seeing him in this context, with his kids. Weston, the family man versus Mr. Hanson, the boss. Both sides of him are very sexy.
We all work in unison to clean up the dining room table and the kitchen. Everything in Weston’s kitchen is sleek and top of the line. The counter is mostly bare, save for the small appliances, unlike my own counter which is covered with spices, a bottle of olive oil, sippy cups and boxes of cereal.
We settle down on the sofa, and Weston digs out his kids’ old books. He reads Ethan Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham. Ethan loves the musical play on words. Ethan’s having a good time, but I can tell he’s tired. He’s rubbing his eyes and twirling a lock of his hair, both tell-tale signs.
I watch them for a long beat. He’s already getting close to Weston, getting attached. And this scares me. Ethan has never had a father figure. It’s most likely a psychological need for most children, to have both a mother and father to look up to. He needs this. He wants this. And what if it were suddenly taken from him when he finally had a taste of it?
“We should get going,” I say. “Ethan is tired. I should put him to bed.”
“Why don’t you two stay the night,” he suggests, taking me by surprise. “He could sleep in the guest room.”
“Uh… I don’t know…”
A slow smile curves his lips. “If I recall correctly, I still owe you a massage,” he whispers. “And a few other delights.”
The thought of this really makes me stop and think. Maybe Ethan wouldn’t mind. Maybe he would even love it. “Well… let’s see what Ethan thinks.”
Weston smiles. “Hey, Ethan. Do you like big beds?”
Ethan grins and nods.
Weston rises from the sofa and takes Ethan’s hand. “Let’s go see the guest room. There’s a big bed in there.”
I follow them as we head to the guest room.
Ethan runs in eagerly, and points excitedly. “Turtle.”
Thank goodness he can’t reach that high because that turtle would be in serious danger. He motions to the wall, and points at a photo of a dolphin. “Fish.”
I smile. “I think he likes this room.”
Weston grins playfully. “So Ethan, do you want to sleep in this bed?”
Ethan dashes over to the bed, and attempts to climb up on the mattress but it sits too high, nestled between four posts. Weston helps him up, and Ethan jumps up and down on the mattress.
I scurry over. “No jumping, Ethan, okay? You could fall.”
He stops and sits.
“So how about it?” I say. “Do you want to sleep on this bed?”
He nods enthusiastically.
“We’ll just need to go fetch a few things from our place,” I tell Weston.
He smiles and kisses me on the cheek. “Don’t be too long.”
Ethan and I dash to the elevator, ride down, and scurry across the hall to our place. I quickly pack all we’ll need for the sleepover. Ethan is as giddy as I am — he knows we’re up to something fun.
When we get back to the penthouse, I bring him to the washroom. He pees and I slide some Pull-Ups on. He’s fully potty trained but still wears the Pull-Ups at night. We wash our hands and brush our teeth, and he’s ready for bed.
He’s bursting with excitement as we head back to the big bed. He crawls in eagerly, and I kiss him good night.
“Sten,” he says and reaches his arms out.
I turn to Weston. “I think he wants you to kiss him goodnight.”
Weston smiles and inches closer. He kisses him softly on the forehead. “Goodnight, little buddy.”
“Night,” Ethan says, all smil
es.
I don’t know how I feel about this. It’s sweet as pie, but it also leaves me a little uneasy.
Weston pats his head gently. “I’m going to turn off the lights, and you go to sleep, okay?”
“Okay.”
Weston and I walk quietly out, smiles on our faces.
“I just need to head to the washroom for a second,” I tell him.
“Sure, let’s meet in my bedroom.”
“I have a quick pee, and all the while, I still can’t believe I’m sleeping over at his place again. When I’m done, I head to the guest room to go check on Ethan. He’s sound asleep. It’s no surprise since he was so exhausted. I watch him for a long beat, smiling at the sweet sight of him.
I’m still smiling when I enter Weston’s bedroom.
“Is the lady ready for her massage?”
I smile. “Definitely. I’ve never been here. How is the masseur?”
He laughs. “He’s fantastic.” He winks. “And he offers happy endings, if that’s of interest to you.”
“Oh, it definitely is.”
41
He walks over to the door and locks it. “The masseur also offers undressing services, if you’re interested.”
I giggle like a school girl. “Definitely.”
He closes the distance between us, and reaches for my sweater. He pulls it easily off. Then he proceeds to undo the buttons of my blouse excruciatingly slowly. He studies me intently, and I wonder what’s going through his mind. It’s more than lust. It’s intense.
He reaches for the button of my slacks and unzips me. The pants slide right off and pool to the floor. I step out of them, and find myself in nothing but my yellow panties.”
“I like it,” he says. “Very summery.”
His fingers toy with the band of my panties, and after a long beat, he finally peels them down and over my rear. He kisses my hips as he slides my undies down my legs. I’m already extremely turned on, and suddenly I wish we could skip the massage and jump right to the sex. But of course, I’m not woman enough to speak up. I reach back for the clasp of my bra and unhook it. My small breasts feel heavy and extremely sensitive under his touch.
He smiles. “The masseur apologizes… he already has an erection.”
I laugh out loud. “That’s fully understandable.”
He throws the pillows on the floor and pulls the bed covers back. “Please lay down on the mattress.”
I quickly oblige, and he trails a slow hand from my shoulders down my back, over my ass, down my legs, until he reaches my socks and pulls them off.
He tickles my feet and I wiggle. “No tickling,” I warn him. “I can’t stand it.”
He sits next to me on the bed and starts with my back and shoulders. I close my eyes. It feels heavenly. “How’s the pressure?”
“Perfect,” I moan.
His touch sends chills up my spine, up to the back of my neck. I can’t remember the last time I got a massage. I think it was on my honeymoon.
I’m brought back to that amazing day. We’d gotten married in Cancun, Mexico. It had been a favorite spot of ours when we were young. But I know I’ll never set foot there again. I wore a beautiful long white satin dress, and Donovan sported a nice grey summer suit. My bridesmaids, Claudia, Abigail and my sister Laura, wore pretty yellow dresses. The weather was beautiful, and the day perfect. I grin, remembering the most memorable day of my life and Donovan’s sweet smile.
Weston drops a soft kiss between my shoulder blades. “How was that?”
I moan. “Wonderful.” So wonderful in fact, I don’t want it to end.
He stands and reaches for the paddle brush on his dresser. I eagerly sit up and cover my breasts with my arms, ill-at-ease.
“Don’t,” he says softly. “You’re beautiful.” He settles right behind me, and grabs a handful of my hair. He drops another soft kiss on my shoulder, and suddenly, I don’t want my hair brushed anymore. I want much more.
He slides the brush gently down the crown of my head, around the nape of neck, and over my shoulders. It feels heavenly and I get lost in the sensation. I could definitively get used to this. He seems too good to be true. This is all happening so fast, and it’s so intense.
“This is kind of crazy, isn’t it?” I say.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“Us,” I clarify. “We’ve been moving so fast.”
A soft laugh escapes him. “Well, when it’s right, it’s right, Gretchen. Why slow it down? I’m a full-speed-ahead kind of man.”
I laugh. “I know.”
“This kind of love comes but few times in a lifetime, if ever, and if you’re lucky enough to find it, you grab it by the horns.”
Love.
I love his use of the word ‘love’. I like knowing that I’m not the only one fully invested in this.
“You haven’t even met my family yet, my mom and my sister,” I point out.
He slides the brush over and around my ear. “Well, let’s make that happen. I’d love to meet them.”
I smile at the thought of mom and Laura fawning all over him. “And my mother-in-law, Patricia,” I add.
“She’s the one I’ve seen with Ethan on the elevator?”
“Yes,” I say, turning to him. “I promised her an introduction, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
He takes my face in his hand. “I want to meet everyone in your life, Gretchen. And there will be plenty of time for that because I’m not going anywhere.”
He almost brings tears to my eyes but then he steals a kiss, and I get lost in him, my heart so full, I fear it might burst.
I wake with a start. Where the heck am I? It takes me a second or two to get my bearings. I’m in Weston’s bed, half naked.
My clothing is neatly folded, piled on top of the chair in the corner, my yellow bra right on top. I smile at Weston’s meticulousness. Most men would have just left everything on the floor.
I’m just about to get out of bed when he suddenly appears. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah, just woke up.”
He grins widely. “You are quite the sight.”
I frown. I know exactly what I look like in the morning when I don’t wash my face and tie up my hair; crazy hair and raccoon eyes. “Scary, right?” I joke.
He laughs. “You’re still a knockout,” he says. “You want some breakfast? I’m making some Eggs Benedict.”
“Yeah… sounds great. Thank you so much for all this, Weston. You’re too good to me.”
“My pleasure.” He sits next to me on the edge of the bed. “Uh… I have something important to attend to after breakfast.”
My heart sinks. Mr. Busy & Important can’t wait to get rid of us. But it’s understandable.
“No worries,” I’m quick to say. “Ethan and I will be out of your hair in a flash.”
“Speaking of Ethan, he’s already awake,” he tells me. “He’s playing with my kids’ old wooden puzzles. I got them out from storage the other day.”
“Really?” I say, surprised. “Just for him?”
“Well, yes. I thought he’d enjoy them.”
“Have you kept all your kids’ stuff?”
“A lot of it,” he admits. “What can I say? I’m sentimental. I was keeping it for my future grandchildren.”
“Makes sense.”
“Anyway, I’ll let you get dressed.”
He stands, and I reach for his arm. “Hey, thank you for last night… for everything.”
He smiles. “My pleasure.”
“You’re too good to me, Mr.”
He grins, and for a quick second, I want to pull him back into bed. But then he’s gone in a flash.
“You slept at his place, in his bed?” Claudia is saying.
“Yes, twice now,” I tell her.
“You guys are getting really serious,” Abigail chimes in.
We’re having brunch at Ruth’s Diner. Ethan is thoroughly enjoying his crêpes, slathered with strawberries and Nutella. Mischa wipes
off the blotch of chocolate on his cheek. I smile at the sight of him.
“We spent the day with Ethan at Shedd Aquarium,” I explain. “It was great. And then Weston and his kids made us an amazing dinner.”
“How does he get along with Ethan?” Mischa asks.
“Famously,” I tell her. “He loves children.”
Claudia digs into her spinach omelet. “That’s fantastic.”
“It is.”
“How does Ethan feel about him?” Mischa asks.
“He’s crazy about him. They’re two peas in a pod.”
Mischa shakes her head. “It all seems very fast to me.”
“I know… It is,” I admit.
“You need to be careful,” she warns me. “You don’t want Ethan to get too attached. You don’t know how this is all going to turn out, this thing with your boss.”
My chest puffs up. This thing with your boss. I know she doesn’t approve, and thinks it will all end badly. She’s annoying me to bits. She reminds me of my mother sometimes.
“I’m being careful,” I assure her.
“He seems like a good guy,” Claudia chimes in. “Mind your own business, Mischa.”
Mischa shrugs. “I’m just looking out for our girl. It’s what we do, isn’t it? Look out for each other?”
“Yeah, but we don’t shit on each other’s happiness,” Claudia argues. “You need to cool it.”
Mischa’s jaw drops and she’s without words.
“Ladies, settle down,” I say softly. “It’s all good.” I turn to Mischa. “Claudia has a soft spot for Weston because he sent her flowers and chocolate.”
“Really?” Abigail says. “Why?”
“For looking after Ethan so he and Gretchen could get it on,” she explains. “The man is all class.”
Abbigail smiles. “Yeah, I totally see that.”
“So will you be moving in?” Mischa asks. Apparently, she’s not done with me.
“No. Why would we?” I ask. “Things are perfect just the way they are.”
“And what happens when your contract is over?”
I really want to kick her in the shin. I remind myself that that’s just the way she is, hyper vigilant and uptight. She’s just looking out for me. “Nothing happens. My job will end, and hopefully, we’ll still be a couple. I have plenty of money. I don’t need the job, or Weston’s financial help.”