Sudden Legacy

by Kristy Phillips

  “How do you say ‘midnight’ in French?” We were still on the floor, leaning against the cabinets with an almost empty plate of crêpes between us. I was still wearing my apron, but it was significantly wrinkled and askew. My legs and torso were stained in splotches with berry juice. Julien looked only slightly less disheveled. His tux shirt would never be white again.

  “Minuit.” I shivered at the way his lips moved around the word.

  “Min-you-ee crêpes.” I looked up at him through my lashes.

  “Trés bien. But it would be ‘crêpes à minuit’. The adjective goes after the noun.” He held a small piece of crêpe up to my lips. I took it, the sticky syrup sweet on my lips.

  “Why bother with the details? You obviously spend very little time talking to her.” Marla’s voice cut through our moment, startling us both. How did she always manage to sneak up on us? The woman was in serious need of a bell.

  “Bonsoir, Marla.” Julien kept his tone light. “Care for a crêpe?” He stood and brushed berry debris from his pants, then offered a hand to me. I rose as demurely as possible considering my wardrobe.

  Marla acknowledged Julien with a cold smile. “Don’t you mean bonjour? It’s after three in the morning.”

  “Forgive me,” he answered. “We seem to have lost track of the time. I hope we didn’t wake you.”

  “Don’t be silly. I was just turning in myself, when I realized I was...” She turned her body toward me slightly as she finished her sentence, “...famished.”

  Julien stiffened beside me. “Marla, I believe I made myself clear earlier-”

  She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Oh hush, mon jouet, let the girl speak for herself.” She stepped forward so she was standing directly in front of me. “You are learning French, Miss l’Amérique? Do you know the word ‘voyeur’?”

  She was smiling softly at me, her perfect rows of white teeth peeking out between her pretty lips.

  I licked my lips to moisten them, her nearness unnerving me. I could only manage a nod in answer.

  Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and something else. Something I couldn’t place. “Bien fait! How do you feel about voyeurs?”

  My brow furrowed in confusion. “You want to... watch us...?” I asked.

  Julien pushed forward and Marla stopped him with an outstretched arm. She grabbed a fistful of his shirtfront, but never broke eye contact with me.

  Marla’s free hand reached over and plucked a berry chunk from my arm. “Here is another French term for you, petite amie; Ménage à trios. Do you know that one?”

  “Marla.” Julien’s tone was warning.

  “What’s the matter, Julien? Afraid of a little competition?” She tucked a bit of hair behind my ear and wiped a thumb across my cheek. Her hand was soft and the slightly cooler temperature of her skin felt good on my flushed face.

  She trailed her hand down to the pulse hammering in my neck. The movement made me break out in goosebumps. “Your heart is beating so fast,” she said. “But I do not think it is beating in fear. I think you are excited. Am I right, petite amie?”

  She leaned into me then. Her intention was perfectly clear, and she moved incredibly slowly, giving me plenty of time to stop her or pull away, but something held me spellbound. I was completely captivated by her, fascinated by what she would do next. I was pleasantly surprised by the feel of her lips on mine. They were soft and pliant. She smelled lightly of lavender and femininity. The hand on my pulse made its way down to the edge of my apron, brushing lightly against the side of my breast, then cupping me gently, her thumb caressing the silky skin of my nipple, causing it to harden in response.

  We must have been quite a sight, the three of us standing in the galley, connected by Marla’s twin grips on our chests. You could hear a pin drop. The only sound in the galley was Julien’s labored breathing. I was too stunned to move, but when Marla attempted to deepen our kiss, I let her. It was surreal. I was so caught up in how different an experience kissing a woman was it took me a moment to realize I was responding to her! I gasped and pulled away. Julien took the opportunity to step between us. “That’s enough, Marla.”

  Marla just held my gaze over his shoulder. “You liked it petite amie.” I can only guess at my shocked expression. It was obvious enough for her to continue. “That’s okay, I liked it too. There are benefits to something like this. Only a woman truly knows what a woman needs.”

  “I said enough.” Julien’s voice was even firmer.

  Marla turned her attention to him. “Aw, are you feeling left out mon jouet?” She continued patronizing him in French for a moment, then ended with kissing him. It started out gently, but ended roughly, much like her kiss from earlier, with her biting his lower lip in departure.

  We stood for a beat after she left, neither of us moving. I pushed at a squished berry with my toe. Noticing my movement seemed to pull Julien from his thoughts. “Come Chérie. Leave that for the staff. We are in grave need of a shower.”

  I followed him back to my room, taking comfort in his firm grip on my arm, yet unable to forget my body’s recent revelations.

  I left Julien and Alex at a diner while I went to the drug store. They were just coming out of the entrance as I was passing by on my way to the bank ATM. I withdrew a few twenties and checked my balance, noting that my monthly child support had been transferred.

  “Alex’s mystery benefactor is right on time, as usual,” I said.

  Julien glanced over my shoulder as I gestured to the screen. His voice was quiet and unnerving when he spoke. “I’d like to trace it when we get home if you don’t mind. Though it will just be a formality - Marla is the only person that could be behind all of this.”

  “Of course,” I answered. His eyes held a hard glint as he stared at the small ATM screen.

  “Two thousand American?” He tsked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and half shook his head in disgust. “That’s insulting.”

  I was taken aback by his tone. “I thought it was rather generous. It’s more than I actually need. I’ve been putting most of it away in his college fund.”

  He looked at me curiously for a beat, then ran his hand over his face. “College fund?” His tone made me feel somehow foolish.

  “Or whatever,” I answered as I pulled my card from the machine. We each took one of Alex’s hands as we continued down the sidewalk. Alex immediately began jumping and swinging from our anchors. “I realize that with his dual citizenship he could attend college for free in Italy if he wanted. Then the fund would just go toward living expenses... or a down payment on a house when he’s older...” I let my voice peter off. I thought I sounded like an imbecile and I was becoming very self-conscious. Julien just kept watching me with this odd expression on his face.

  “Lara,” he said in a very deadpan tone, “Do you have any inkling of my net worth?”

  I shook my head stupidly. “You have a net worth? That sounds very aristocratic.”

  He smirked at my flippancy. “Contrary to your assumptions that I was merely Marla’s pet, I happen to be possessed of a great deal of wealth.”

  “Oh?” was all I could think to say to that. How is one supposed to respond to that, anyway?

  “‘Oh’ indeed,” was his flat reply. “Frankly, Lara, I could buy Marla many times over were I so inclined. It’s a veritable slap in my face that she would send such paltry support for my child.”

  My God. No wonder he would find two thousand a month insulting. I just raised my brows. I didn’t want to get into a row about money, and I certainly didn’t want to defend Marla.

  “My child should want for nothing!” he continued.

  “He doesn’t,” I couldn’t help but point out. It’s not like we were living in some rat-infested hovel on skid row. My grandparents had worked hard all their lives and had plenty to show for it. We lived a very comfortable life, and I was beginning to take offense at Julien’s tone.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he
met my gaze again he had the decency to look abashed. “Of course. Yes. You have provided beautifully for him, Chérie. I only meant that if circumstances had been different, and I had known about Alex all along...” He stopped talking, realizing that there was no way he could finish his thought without sounding like a pompous ass.

  Alex startled us with a squeal. “Mama! Toys!”

  We were passing the old-fashioned toy store on Main Street and Alex had been hooked by the window display. Julien looked at me pleadingly, seemingly grateful for the sudden change of subject. “Permission to spoil l’enfant?” The absurdity of his question made me laugh out loud. “I have two and a half years of anniversaires et Noël to make up for, no?”

  I couldn’t help laughing as I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Spoil away. But this is a one time indulgence.”

  There was that crooked smile again. “Je vous remercie, mon amour.” He winked at me and said, “You’ll have your turn later,” before opening the door to the toy store and waving us inside. My traitorous stomach did a flip at his words and my pulse sped up just enough to bring a bit more color to my cheeks.

  Alex was practically in a coma after so much excitement. He had spent the afternoon playing with his father, thoroughly enthralled by the train set and blocks and model airplanes that littered the great room and spilled into the solarium. I had to admit, there was a certain charm to old-fashioned wooden toys. If you ignored the television and other modern contrivances, our great room almost resembled a movie set of a period piece.

  After tidying the toys as best I could, I decided to take advantage of the quiet. Julien was in the study with Pops, and Nan was getting ready to watch a movie. Now would be a good time to attend to certain needs, and maybe enjoy a hot bath.

  Once in my room, I kicked out of my jeans and read the back of the box I had picked up at the drug store. It seemed simple enough. I made my way to the bathroom, but once there, rather than open the box, I decided I needed to brush my teeth.

  After each tooth had been flossed and polished I noticed a hang nail on my thumb and very carefully clipped it off. I let out a sigh. What was I doing? Why was I stalling? I picked up the box again and tapped it against the palm of my other hand.

  “There you are, Chérie.” Julien came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He hung his head over my shoulder taking in the small green box in my hand. “‘Plan B’? What’s this?” I turned in his arms so I was facing him. “It’s the morning after pill.”

  I watched a small frown make its way across his brow. “The time machine of contraception.”

  I snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”

  He took the box from me and opened it. It contained a single pill encased in plastic with a foil back. He hesitated a moment, then popped it out and handed it to me. Stepping back to the counter, I tossed the pill into my mouth and washed it down with a swig of water, Julien watching me intently the whole time.

  He took my water and set it on the counter. Leaning in, he stared deep into my eyes and brushed his lips against mine, too soft to be considered a kiss. “Would it be so bad?” he asked against my mouth.

  “Would what be so bad?” I asked, keeping my lips against his.

  “Another baby,” he answered, then he pressed his lips to mine more firmly and kissed me properly. My thought process stuttered to a halt, unable to comprehend what he was getting at. My hesitation of moments before suddenly seemed completely absurd. Surely he wasn’t suggesting we purposely attempt to have another baby. I broke the kiss, breathing heavily. I ran my fingers into his hair on either side of his head to hold his face in front of mine. “You can’t possibly be serious,” I said in disbelief. He gave me a crooked smile and went back to devouring me.

  He kissed his way down my throat, then kissed his way back up until his lips were tickling against my ear. “All that I missed...” His voice was soft and husky with emotion. “Your body, swollen and round with my child.” He ran his warm palm over my flat stomach, then brought it up to cup my breast through the thin material of my tank top. “Your breasts, full with milk to nourish our treasure.” He pinched my hardened nipple, causing me to gasp and arch into him. He went back to kissing me, his tongue sliding along mine. When he spoke it was into my mouth between kisses. “Encouraging you through the labor...” More heady kisses. “Hearing our child’s first cry.” He pulled back a moment, cupping my face and staring hard into my eyes. “So many of his firsts... Lost to me.”

  I could see the pain in his eyes and it broke my heart. There was nothing I could do to give him those lost moments. I tried to lighten the mood. “You’re romanticizing everything.” He raised a brow in question. “Oh?”

  “Yes.” I smiled. “You’re leaving out the other firsts. The first sleepless night, the first diaper explosion, the first fever, the first molar.” He started laughing at my exaggerated looks of horror. He sobered before saying softly, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone, Chérie.”

  I smiled at him reassuringly. “I wasn’t alone. I had Nan and Pops.” That seemed to bring him a small amount of comfort. “And with the exception of you not knowing about him, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

  “So you agree, then,” he said, before kissing me once again. “It wouldn’t be so bad.”

  I was fully intending to argue with him but he chose that moment to slip his hand into the waistband of my panties and glide over the roundness of my backside until his fingers found my wet opening from behind. I sucked in a lungful of air and practically climbed the length of him in encouragement. He rolled my nipple between the thumb and index finger of his free hand and sucked hard on my bottom lip.

  I pushed his jeans and boxers roughly off his hips, causing them to pool at his feet. He followed suit, choosing to rip my panties off rather than attempt to remove them the economical way. Grabbing my ass with both hands he lifted me as if I weighed no more than a doll, and settled me snugly atop his erection. We let out matching groans of fulfillment.

  He leaned back, resting his shoulders against the wall and helped move me up and down the length of him. I was clinging to him like a monkey to a palm tree, but the position was hitting me in all the right places. “Julien...” I gasped. “Julien! I’m going to-” I never got to finish my sentence, I could feel myself clench tightly around him as I came. He pushed off the wall and leaned me against the counter, thrusting forcefully into me as he found his own release. My arms were wrapped around his neck, my hands clutching my opposite elbows. He gave me sweet, languid kisses as the spasms rocking his body began to slow.

  Slowly and clumsily I disentangled myself from him. My heart rate had not yet returned to its resting cadence. There was a familiar slickness on my thighs and I didn’t protest when Julien started the water running in the shower and turned to undress me. It was an easy job. He had only to tug my tank top over my head and I was naked.

  He held me close while waiting for the water to reach a comfortable temperature. I basked in our afterglow and delighted in the feel of his skin against mine. Dipping his head, he took my right nipple into his mouth. He ran his tongue teasingly around my areola before clamping his lips down firmly and taking a long pull on the sensitive nub. My milk came in like a freight train. I was shocked by the feeling. Alex was all but weaned, and I hadn’t felt the rush of my milk letting down in months. Julien was caught off guard too. He hummed his surprise at the sudden milk flow. He swallowed and pulled away from my breast, only to clamp back on to staunch the flow that was trickling slowly but steadily down my torso.

  It wasn’t a strong spurting; nothing like the torrential eruptions of Alex’s first few months. I remembered the first time my milk had come in. The memory caused my neglected left nipple to harden and begin to leak as well. Julien grabbed at the breast and met my gaze with laughter in his voice. “Mayday! I am outnumbered. How do you turn these things off?” I laughed and batted him away, stepping into the now warm shower. “You started it.”
>
  He slipped in behind me, enveloping me in his arms and letting the hot water cascade down the both of us. He poured my body wash into his palm and began to wash me using his hands rather than a cloth. I slid against him whenever I could, languishing in the feel of his hands lathering my inner thighs. He pulled his arm up, purposefully brushing his wrist against my clitoris as he went. I squeaked and jumped back, knocking a shampoo bottle loudly to the bottom of the tub. We both froze and looked at each other in mock horror; me at the loud sound, he at my reaction. The bottle falling had seemed very loud, but everything seems loud when you’re worried about being heard.

  After a moment of stillness we began to relax. “I don’t think they heard us,” I whispered in relief.

  “Oh. ‘They’? Do we not want to be heard?” he asked in surprise. “I thought you were worried about waking Alex.”

  I shrugged. “Alex is sleeping like the dead. You have quite worn him out.” I stepped into him again, wanting the warmth of the water, and also lacking the courage to look at him as I spoke. “As to Pops and Nan... I don’t know how they’d feel about... us,” I ended weakly, not knowing how to describe what was happening between us, and not wanting to sound presumptuous.

  He gently cupped my jaw and forced me to look up at him. “All due respect to your grandparents, Chérie, but good or bad, I’d rather they know about ‘us’ and get used to the idea.”

  “‘The idea’?” There it was again. That flicker of hope. That breathless sense of wonder that Julien meant what he was saying. Could this really be happening? I was still too gun shy to let myself believe in happy endings.