Just for a Little While

by Fiona Cole

  Just for a Little While

  Fiona Cole

  Copyright © 2021 by Fiona Cole

  All rights reserved.

  Interior Design: Indie Girl Promotions

  Editing: Kelly Allenby, Readers Together

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To Willow.

  * * *

  You’re an amazing woman and one of the best parts of this community. Thank you for always being willing to help.

  Contents

  1. Arabella

  2. Willem

  3. Arabella

  4. Willem

  5. Arabella

  6. Arabella

  7. Willem

  8. Willem

  9. Arabella

  10. Willem

  11. Arabella

  12. Willem

  13. Arabella

  Willem

  Other Books by Fiona Cole

  About the Author

  One

  Arabella

  “You’re moving in with your uncle next week.”

  “What uncle?”

  “Seriously, Arabella?” My mother looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

  “Seriously, Diana,” I snarked back. Something about traveling Europe by yourself made answering to parents a million times harder. “You have a sister who is a lesbian, and Dad is an only child.”

  “Uncle Willem,” Dad said before Mom could snap back.

  “Willem isn’t my uncle.”

  “Close enough.”

  “A stepbrother from one of Grandpa’s many marriages from fifteen years ago, hardly counts. Were you even in the same house for long? Is he even old enough to watch me?”

  “For the love of God, Arabella,” my mom muttered.

  “He’s thirty-three. So, old enough.”

  “When do you even talk to him? In between surgeries while you live at the hospital?”

  “Please stop arguing, Arabella,” my dad said, rubbing his eyes. “He’s the closest thing you have to an uncle, and since Grandpa died, family is sparse. So, take what you can get.”

  “Don’t I get a say in it?” I argued.

  Why bother asking my opinion when they didn’t want to hear it anyway. They never had before when making a decision for me.

  “What will you say, Arabella?” Mom asked. “You’ve been back from your backpacking adventures for two weeks and start school in less than a month. You sold your car to traipse around Europe for six months. Uncle Willem lives right off campus and can give you a ride if need be.”

  “You could always help me with another one. Pay for half like you did the first, and I’d pay you back.”

  Both parents knew better and silently shook their heads, moving on without even entertaining the idea.

  “He was nice enough to offer when we told him you somehow forgot to apply for student housing,” Dad said.

  I shrugged completely unrepentant. “Whoops.”

  What can I say? I kind of hoped they wouldn’t hold me to my word of going to college, and maybe if I didn’t have a place to stay, then I wouldn’t have to go.

  My world history class my junior year had sparked a light in me I didn’t know existed. From then on, all I could think about was traveling the world any way possible. I delayed my first year of college after high school and worked two jobs to save money. My parents let me know they wouldn’t be helping in any way if I put off college.

  It would have been perfect, except my best friend, Felicity, got sick before we left, and the trip that we’d planned on splitting, had turned into a solo purchase. One I couldn’t afford.

  “You’re not getting out of this. A deal is a deal,” Mom reminded me.

  They’d ended up giving me the small amount I couldn’t make up in such short notice to cover Felicity’s portion, but I had to apply to college and be back in time to start the fall semester. They’d made me apply before I left, and I would have promised almost anything to get out that door.

  “I know,” I grumbled.

  “We thought you could leave a few weeks early and look for a job. Willem said you didn’t have to pay any rent, but you will be responsible for taking care of yourself.”

  “Will I have a curfew? Or will I be allowed some freedom?”

  “Jesus.” Mom’s arms flew in the air before pacing away.

  I was being snotty, and I knew it. I just hated this pressure of a life I didn’t choose closing in on me. Especially after months of answering to no one but myself.

  None of it was new. They wanted me to be a certain way and encouraged, as Mom put it, me to be better. I thought I was fine the way I was.

  In the very stereotypical fashion, I tended to push back to keep them at a distance so their disappointment stung less.

  “Will you be taking me? Or am I flying? If I’m flying, how will I know it’s him when I see him. It’s been so long. A stranger could come claim me, and I’d never know.”

  My dad merely stared, used to my antics. “It’s been two years, I hardly think you could forget how he looks,” he deadpanned. “And you’ll be flying.”

  I definitely didn’t forget how he looked.

  I’d only seen him a handful of times at holidays when he could make it out to Denver, but the last time I’d seen him, I’d been old enough to understand attraction. It wasn’t like I was putting my non-existent daddy issues on him by finding him attractive. It was more factual—objective. Uncle Willem was hot.

  He’d been tall, broad, dark hair, and ocean eyes. His square jaw had been clean-shaven with his hair slicked back. It’d been thanksgiving, and while I’d lounged around in my leggings and giant sweater, he’d looked put together in slacks and a button up.

  Too bad I’d been into guys just as savage as my personality. So, while my feminine body recognized his looks, I’d been able to brush it aside.

  I hadn’t talked to him the whole time, fully entrenched in my peak teen years of attitude. We’d had one moment when we crossed paths in the kitchen.

  “Nice nose ring,” he’d said.

  I’d given him my signature smirk and walked away.

  “What about Todd and my friends.”

  “Todd?” Dad asked.

  “My boyfriend.”

  “Please,” Mom scoffed. “If you expect me to think you’d want to stay for Todd, you must think I’m dumber than rocks.”

  “You have a boyfriend?” Dad asked. “Since when? Have we met him?”

  “Since before I left. He came to my graduation party.”

  My dad’s face screwed up when he remembered the polar opposite of me. “The football player?”

  “If Todd can be your boyfriend,” Mom added air quotes for good measure, “while you’re overseas for six months, then he can handle you going to college.”

  “Listen, Arabella,” my dad said, ready to bargain to make it end. “You put in an honest effort at school, earn half the money for a decent car and we’ll pay the rest and make sure you have an apartment by summer.

  At this point it was all a waste of time to argue. Even my own stubbornness had its limits. And the apartment didn’t matter—it was the promise of freedom and independence.

  “Fine. I’ll pack this week, but I’m heading out to enjoy
my last Saturday with friends.”

  “Be back by midnight,” my mom called to my retreating back. “And we still need to talk about the tattoo I saw in one of your pictures. As well as the topless beach.”

  “Topless what?” my dad screeched.

  I chuckled but kept walking to grab my things.

  All-in-all, maybe leaving home earlier than expected would be good. After having a taste of freedom, every rule that used to be my norm felt like a shackle tying me in place.

  So, I’d move to Cincinnati with Uncle Willem and utilize the roof over my head. He could stay home and sip his tea by the fire while he read a good novel on how to tie the best Windsor knot. I’d be out and about and working my ass off to afford a place of my own.

  I just needed to keep my eye on the prize and hope good ole Uncle Willem didn’t try to control me like some misplaced father figure.

  As far as I knew, he was single with no kids. So, it’d be just him and me. I planned on not being there as much as possible.

  Two

  Willem

  “I can’t tonight, Tessa. My niece is coming in.”

  “Niece? Since when do you have a niece? And how have you not told me about any family? We’ve been together for almost a month?”

  By together, she meant fucking. We’d been fucking for a few weeks—on occasion. It was time to cut ties, and maybe having Arabella here would be the perfect excuse. I should have done it sooner, like the first night I realized how incompatible we were. I’d tested her limits and lightly fisted her hair, and she’d winced with a whine that damn near stole my erection. It wasn’t like I wanted to tie her up and cane her, but I was a big guy with a big appetite, and I liked a woman who could handle both sides of me—the one that tortured with soft touches and teasing kisses and the one that gripped so hard I left bruises as I fucked you into next week. I liked a woman who wouldn’t cave to me throughout the day, only to kneel and beg me for release later that night.

  “She’s my stepbrother’s kid. A stepbrother from my mom’s last marriage. Not technically my niece,” I found myself explaining anyway.

  “Well,” she huffed. “If you ever need to escape the brat, just come on over here. I’ll help you relax.”

  She said it like Arabella was a ten-year-old girl with pigtails in need of a babysitter. I almost snorted at the thought but shoved it down.

  “Yeah. I’ll let you know.”

  I quickly got off the phone and rubbed a hand down my face, my mind wandering back to Arabella. Part of me wanted to laugh at Tessa’s accurate description of Arabella. Harry said her trip to Europe helped Arabella grow up. Sort of.

  But that wasn’t the biggest problem. No. The bigger problem was that Arabella looked nothing like a little bratty girl. I’d pulled up her Instagram and, after realizing I’d been scrolling for ten minutes, I’d shut it down faster than a kid being walked in on jerking off.

  Only ten minutes, and I’d kind of lost myself a bit. I’d lost myself in admiring how bold she looked—free…sexy.

  Long gone was the snotty teen with braces who’d refused to acknowledge I existed at Thanksgiving. Even further from the girl I remembered when I’d visit between trips abroad.

  For those ten minutes, nothing else existed except the girl in Instagram worthy pics all over Europe. She rarely smiled and wore her attitude—or brattiness as Harry explained—hooked on the corner of her mouth that tipped up in a smirk in almost every picture.

  The doorbell pulled me from that rabbit hole, and I jumped up from the couch, jerking my head side to side to make sure nothing was out of place. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I rarely had company, and for the first time, I looked at my house from the perspective of an almost twenty-year-old.

  Not finding anything too damning, I went to open the door.

  On the other side, I found the same girl who entranced me with each photo, her eyes—and half her face—covered by a pair of aviator glasses. The reddish tint in her hair caught in the sunlight, making her almost look like a true redhead instead of the lighter brunette I remembered.

  Her eyebrows peeked up above the rim of her glasses, and she looked me up and down. I stood taller as if under inspection and, with a lot more subtlety than her, did the same.

  Her high-top chucks were only laced up halfway, leaving the top to flare out over her thin ankles. All her hiking pictures weren’t just for show. I could see her defined legs encased in tight black leggings, and it made me wonder how her thighs would flex around a man’s waist. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the top of her leggings stopped just below her belly button, leaving a slim line of her stomach exposed under a plain, white, crop top T-shirt. It was like she found a baggy, little boy’s undershirt. However, it wasn’t baggy enough to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra, her pert nipples poking against the fabric.

  I almost got caught up on the sight, but quickly jerked my gaze away with a sharp reprimand.

  Niece. Niece. Niece.

  Not really your niece.

  Fine. Harry’s daughter.

  A man you respect. His daughter.

  Thankfully, she was still taking her time looking me over, completely unrepentant.

  I almost laughed.

  “You look different.”

  My head tipped, thrown by those being the first words she said. “Umm…hi. And thank you. I think?” I stepped aside and grabbed one of the bags sitting next to her on the pavement.

  That smirk I saw in so many pics made an appearance as she rolled her suitcase through the door.

  “Wait. What does that mean?” I asked, closing the door.

  She turned and shoved her glasses to the top of her head, exposing light brown eyes, thankfully not like Harry’s, and shrugged. “Last time I saw you, you were all buttoned up and clean-shaven.”

  Rubbing my hand across the thick scruff covering my jaw, I couldn’t help but still wonder if she was insulting me. I grew my beard out over the summer and kept going back and forth over shaving before school. I opened my mouth to ask her opinion but quickly shoved the question down. “I always try to look my best when I see your dad.”

  I wasn’t very close with Harry, but he was the closest I had to family—the only family I had left. We were very different, but it hadn’t stopped us from getting along when our parents were married. He’d been the normal and relaxed in a chaotic time and had been nice enough to include an eleven-year-old boy while he was a senior in high school.

  I respected him and the life he created. He had a good wife and a good job. When he’d called letting me know Arabella was coming here for school, I offered up whatever he’d needed. He’d done the same for me once, and it felt good to finally repay him.

  “Cool,” she answered simply.

  Rather than push the subject, I nodded with a tight smile. “I’ll show you your room.”

  I grabbed her rolling suitcase and led her up the flight of stairs, each one creaking under my weight while barely making a noise for her.

  “The dresser and closet are empty. The bathroom is the next door over and yours to use however you like. I have one in my bedroom, and the guest one is downstairs.”

  “Entertain a lot?” she muttered, looking out the floor to ceiling windows.

  “No. I don’t have many guests. I just wanted to let you know you could leave your stuff out on the counter.”

  She turned, her lips in a tight smile. “Cool.”

  I fought to keep from reprimanding her. I remembered being an arrogant shit too. Hell, some still thought I was—specifically, Tessa.

  “There’s also a pool out back. It rarely gets used, but someone comes to take care of it. Feel free to use it as you want.”

  Another tight smile accompanied by a nod.

  “So, yeah. Go ahead and get settled, and then we can grab dinner in a couple hours. There’s a bar down the street.”

  “Uhhh, I’m only nineteen,” she informed like she thought I was dumb.

  I was aware
.

  “It’s more like a pub. Doesn’t become a bar until later. You’ll be fine.”

  “Cool.”

  My irritation at the word bled through, and I stood in the doorway, my brow slowly rising as a reprimand as if waiting for more. She plopped on the bed, almost dragging my attention back to her shirt and the way her small tits bounced from the motion, but I held strong.

  Finally, she caved and shrugged, running her hands down her thighs. “Thank you. I’ll be ready around six?”

  “Six is good,” I said, barely holding back my victorious smile. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office. It’s the third door down. My room is at the end of the hall.”

  With that, I turned, closing the door behind me, heading back to my office, smile firmly in place.

  By the time six rolled around, I made sure I was downstairs in the living room waiting for her. She’d stayed in her room for the most part, although I heard her leave occasionally and rummage in the bathroom.

  She’d changed her clothes to black jeans and a tank-top tucked in, thankfully with a bra.

  Jesus, I felt like an old pervert.

  “Ready?”

  “Yup.”

  “Are you okay with walking?” I asked, looking at her chunky, heeled boots.

  “Yeah. I can walk everywhere in these.”

  “You have a car, right?” she asked as I locked the door behind us.

  “I do. It’s just nice out, and I like to walk when I can. Also, parking can be a bitch in the area with all the students. It’s not bad now since it’s summer, but come fall, there won’t be a free spot.”

  “Makes sense.”

  We walked the four blocks in silence, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She took in the older homes and shading trees. Every once in a while, a glimpse of campus would peek through the buildings. When we arrived, I asked for a booth toward the back where it was quieter.