He turned her around. “I believe you. Babe, I don’t care about the damned beef stew.”
“Oh, so it’s damned now? But I wanted you to have it.” Her arms circled around his neck, and he smiled again.
“I already have what I want.” He leaned his forehead against hers.
Those words hit her where she lived, in that fantasy in which she and Wallace rode off into the sunset (minus the horses) and into their own little ‘happily ever after’. She loved him, and she should tell him, but not yet. One shock at a time.
“I know what we can do.” Gen spun around and went to her refrigerator.
“So do I, and it’s going to involve a shower. We’ll get dirty and clean at the same time.”
“I’ve got strawberries, and chocolate.” She dug in her crisper where she found the still-fresh strawberries. Now for some chocolate.
“You don’t have to—”
“Just try and tell me you’re not hungry.”
“All right, I’m a little hungry.”
“Of course you are. This is a snack.”
Twenty minutes later she had Wallace back in bed where she fed him chocolate-covered strawberries. She’d had a dream about this once. All right, maybe two or three times.
“You’re spoiling me,” Wallace said, taking a bite out of a strawberry and sucking her finger when he did.
She shivered. “No, you spoiled me. Earlier. Several times.”
Like he remembered exactly how many times he’d made her orgasm, he grinned. “Ladies first.”
They should probably talk about how everything had changed, but she found she didn’t want to burst this little bubble. Didn’t want to hear anything that might ruin these moments. She had Wallace Turlock in her bed. Never mind that she wanted to be in his heart, too. Best to leave that for another day.
“Why aren’t you smiling?” Wallace asked. “I might have to fix that.”
“I was just thinking.”
“Stop that.”
She smiled and fed him another strawberry. “Everything is— different now.”
His eyes smoldered but his expression didn’t change. “I know.”
“But different in a good way. Right?” Oh crap, she was talking about it. She couldn’t look at him for a minute, afraid of what she might see in his eyes.
Worse, he didn’t say anything for several seconds. She stared at the nearly empty plate and thought she really should get more strawberries. Maybe she could run to the store, and while there, also get some whipped cream.
He lifted her chin and met her eyes. “In a good way.”
Lord, the way he gazed at her. The man didn’t have to smile. “I knew you could be romantic, with the right woman.”
“I’ll show you romantic.” He took a dollop of chocolate, smeared it on her neck, then licked it off.
She gasped and could have sworn her toes curled. “That’s not romantic. That’s sexy.”
He seemed to consider it. “Fine, you do romantic and I’ll do sexy.”
“I do like the way you do sexy.”
He caught her wrist on the way to feeding him another strawberry. “You know, you and I seem to have skipped ahead several steps.”
That would be true, but then again he hadn’t been privy to her rich fantasy life. In some of her dreams, they already had two children. She tried not to laugh thinking of the shock that might bring to his system.
“You work fast. You seduced me.”
He cleared his throat. “I’ll let you go ahead and believe that. But I do want to take you to dinner.”
“Why? Don’t you like my cooking?”
“I love your cooking. All right, how about a movie?”
A rush of warmth flooded her. “You want to take me out on a date.”
“Well, the thought occurred to me that I could just hire you as my personal geisha girl, but what can I say? I’m old fashioned.”
“Aw. Am I your girlfriend?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said and smiled. “Kidding.”
She’d seen him smile more today than in the past ten years. In order to see him smile, she had to make love to him. Good to know.
“When does Joe come back?” In the deep recesses of her mind, she worried her brother might still ruin everything.
Wallace’s eyes showed no clue to his feelings. “Next week.”
A week. She had an entire week with Wallace. He had to protect her, after all. Sure, she’d let him go ahead and believe he needed to protect her from Allen if it meant he’d be in her bed. Protecting her.
“We can keep this between us, if you want. Joe doesn’t have to know,” Gen said.
This time she thought she caught a flash of anger in his eyes.
“Is that what you want?”
She put the plate down and climbed on top of him. There was the thinnest sheet between them, but she could immediately feel him harden underneath her. “No. I’d like to take an ad out in the Gazette.”
His eyes softened. “That might be overkill.”
“At least let me change my Facebook status,” Gen said with a smile.
He flipped her, and she was suddenly under him. “Will it say ‘it’s complicated’?”
“You would know what it will say if you’d accepted my friend request.”
“I told you, I don’t do Facebook.”
“You may not do Facebook, but Facebook does you.”
The expression on his face was a sight to see. “Explain.”
“There’s a ‘Who is Wallace Turlock dating now?’ page.”
“The hell there is.”
He deserved this for teasing her about three-minute miles and looking for a wife who was six feet tall. Yeah, right. “Some of your ex-girlfriends chime in from time to time with opinions, advice. I follow it, of course.”
“What?” His strong hands tightened around her arms.
Damn, she was good. All those tease-fests with Joe had paid off. She’d learned from the best. “Don’t get too worked up about it. There’s a long line of women who would love to be where I am. Right now.”
But she’d pushed her luck because something in Wallace’s eyes shifted. It was a gleam somewhere between I’m-onto-you and I’m-about-to-kill-you. Then his weight shifted on top of her and she felt his hardness press down on her thigh.
“You think you’re funny.”
“Maybe.”
“I’d like you to see what else you can do with that big mouth.” He lifted himself slightly off her, and threaded his fingers with hers.
Holy cow! She felt shivery and shiny, and her heartbeat started a drum solo. “I bet you would.”
And then she showed him.
*****
Wallace had to stop being so selfish.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t had an entire lifetime of putting others first. But the past few hours had been possibly the most indulgent of his entire life. For the first time he’d taken what he wanted. It was Genevieve, of course. Probably always had been on some level. His guilty pleasure, and he was done fighting it. Done fighting her.
But it wasn’t supposed to feel this good.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. But every time Genevieve made those little sounds in the back of her throat, gripping him and calling out his name, he lost another piece of himself. At this rate there would be nothing left of him. Might be a good way to go. In the back of his mind something nagged him, the tiny voice of his conscience that seemed to believe he’d have to pay for this later. For now, he ignored it.
He’d finally talked Gen into the shower, which he also hedonistically enjoyed. Without a doubt, he’d never think of shower gel in the same way again since Genevieve had used it so creatively. By the time they got out of the shower, he’d deluded himself into thinking that maybe if they went to the store and got enough supplies they might get away with not leaving her house for the next week. Afterwards— well, he’d deal with that later.
“But why?”
He loved that she’d asked that question. “Because that’s what people do.”
“Aw, I’ve tired you out.”
“That’s not possible.” He slapped her behind. “But now that you mention it, if I get some fresh air I might get a second wind.”
“You mean a fifth wind?”
She was keeping track. Okay, so was he. “Yeah. That’s what I mean.”
“Let’s go to the market. I’m out of strawberries, and other stuff. Like whipped cream.” She gave him a sly look.
Oh hell yeah, she was going to kill him slowly. He couldn’t wait.
On the way to the market, Gen sat so close to him in the truck he had a tough time shifting gears. That kind of familiarity had always seemed so over the top to him, and he wasn’t sure why it didn’t much matter to him now. Except that it was Genevieve. She’d always sucked the marrow right out of life, and this coming week with her would be no different.
He wasn’t even concerned that they’d set the town rumor mill into overdrive. Let them talk. For now, he was Fake Boyfriend anyway. Later, well, he’d think about that tomorrow.
They were going through the produce aisle hand in hand when the dentist showed up like some kind of nightmare that wouldn’t end.
“Genevieve.” He stopped dead in front of them. “And New Wallace. Well, how do you do?”
Who talked that way? And again with the New Wallace. “We do fine.”
“You’re still here? Don’t you have to go back to Austin and your practice?” Gen asked.
“I’ve worked hard for the past few years and saved my pennies, so I’ve decided to let my partner take over while I take a small sabbatical. And wine country is more beautiful than I could have imagined.” Allen took a bottle of wine out of his basket. “It’s everywhere, and it’s cheap. Even the good stuff.”
“I didn’t even know you liked wine,” Gen said.
Did these two know each other at all?
“I do.” Allen grinned. “And I’ve met someone.”
“You have? Here in town?” Gen’s hand gripped Wallace’s tighter.
“She’s my New Reece. I hope you don’t mind, Gen.” Allen put the bottle back in the basket and looked sadly at Gen.
He could feel Gen jerk beside him. “She doesn’t.”
“I hope you two will be very happy,” Gen said lightly. “And maybe she’ll love Austin.”
“I hope she does,” Wallace agreed. “You ought to take her there. Soon.”
“When the time is right. I have a date tonight, so have a good day, you two.” Allen finally kept walking.
If he wasn’t mistaken, Wallace heard Gen sigh in relief. She let go of his hand and went straight to the strawberries, which really wasn’t fair because he had questions.
“Why does he keep calling me New Wallace? What the hell is that about?”
“You think I know?” She showed him a basket of strawberries. “Do you like these?”
They distracted him. It seemed like Gen was avoiding the subject, but he didn’t care to think of the dentist any longer than absolutely necessary. He tugged Gen close and gave her a deep kiss. “Just make sure we have enough.”
It wasn’t until they were waiting in line that he saw her. Ducking in the wine section like she had something to hide. “Mom?”
“Wallace. Genevieve.” Mom pushed her cart towards them.
Gen gave his mother a quick hug. “You look a lot better.”
“Life goes on.” She patted her hair.
He glanced in her shopping cart. “I see cheese in there. And it doesn’t look like soy. And pasta? What’s going on, Ma?”
She didn’t smile. “I’m just shopping for groceries. Any other questions? What is this, the Inquisition?”
“Nope. You have a nice evening.” He forced a grin. More trouble ahead and he didn’t feel equipped to deal with it right now. Let Billy handle this one. He probably couldn’t do any more damage than he’d already done. Hopefully his mother was smart enough to meet the Internet guy in a public place.
On the way back home, Gen squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry. She’ll be all right.”
It wasn’t his job to worry, but it was still hard not to do it. Difficult to let go and assume that the people he loved would stay safe and not do anything stupid. For now, Pop was happy and healthy. Billy had found his place with Brooke and the vineyard and a nice balance of coaching high school baseball. Wallace still worried about his youngest brother Scott, and probably always would. But at least now he was on a good forward trajectory, off at Firefighter Academy. Now if Wallace could only get his mother to behave.
He forced his thoughts back to the woman beside him. The one girl he’d never thought he could have. Mostly because if he were being honest, he didn’t think he could ever be good enough for Genevieve. And then the dentist happened, and he began to think that Gen was the one who needed to raise her standards.
The truck he spied in the Gen’s driveway was parked at a weird angle when they arrived, and blended easily into the dark evening. But when the driver emerged, Wallace would have recognized his six-foot frame anywhere.
Joe was back.
“Hey, guys!”
Well, shit. Joe was early. That’s what Wallace got for taking what he wanted for the first time in his life. It would seem someone up there didn’t want him to be happy, and this time he couldn’t blame the dentist.
“Joe!” Genevieve flew into his arms. “You’re back.”
“What are you two doing? Playing house?” Joe lifted Gen and set her down.
“W-what do you mean?” Gen, face pink, struggled with the key in her front door.
Meanwhile, Wallace held two light paper bags which suddenly felt ridiculously heavy. Good to know Gen felt just as awkward as he did about all this. They’d just spent the past several hours screwing each other’s brains out, but Wallace hoped it didn’t show on his satisfied face.
“Don’t worry. Wallace told me.” Joe walked inside.
“He did?” Gen turned to Wallace, eyes wide, probably wondering when he’d had the time or inclination to text his bestie and let him know he’d scored. Not in this lifetime.
He set the bags down on the counter. “He means how I told Allen we were dating.”
“Oh, right.” Genevieve laughed, sounding on the wrong side of hysterical. “I almost forgot.”
When she kept laughing, Joe stared at her, grinning. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Then she promptly knocked over a bag and the strawberries fell out.
Great, just looking at them and Wallace got hard remembering. He and Joe both helped Gen pick them up.
“What’s that smell?” Joe wrinkled his nose.
“I burned dinner.” Genevieve said this in the same tone of voice she might confess she’d killed a man.
“You— what? When have you ever burned anything in your life?” Joe asked.
“I was distracted,” Gen said and met Wallace’s eyes.
“So what’s been going on?” Joe walked out of the kitchen, and plopped down on the family room couch.
“The usual.” A strange feeling came over Wallace, like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He joined Joe on the couch and flipped on the TV to the football game. Then with his other hand he casually palmed Gen’s panties from where he’d torn them off and slipped them behind the couch’s pillows.
“Are you happy with your renovations?” Joe threw Genevieve a look.
“Yes. Wallace did a wonderful job.”
“I told you he would.” Joe elbowed Wallace. “So you’re probably going up to the cabin now?”
“Yeah.” He wouldn’t look at Gen. They hadn’t talked about any of this. Too busy…er…doing other things that seemed far more important at the time.
And besides, Joe was back early.
“Are you going by yourself?” Gen asked.
> What was he supposed to say here and now? ‘No, you come with me, Gen.’ He needed to have a talk with Joe first, and explain everything. Well, maybe not everything.
When Wallace didn’t answer, Joe filled in the silence. “Of course he is. He does that every year. Where have you been? Earth to Gen?”
“I thought maybe there was someone he’d like to take. That’s all.”
She killed him. And a few minutes later, it became clear the Niners were getting killed. Or slaughtered, more like it.
“Well, there goes the Super Bowl,” Joe sighed and stood. “This wouldn’t have happened if the Niners hadn’t traded their best linebacker. Hey, why don’t we go down to the Tavern? Every time the Niners lose Arnie gets all punch drunk and starts talking about how he always wanted to be a mime. It’s hysterical. And maybe you can find someone you might like to take with you up to the cabin. Gen seems worried about that.”
“I’ll go, but I’m not taking anyone with me to the cabin.”
“You say that now, but you never know. Maybe things will be crazy tonight. See ya, Gen. And if the jerk comes around for some reason, give us a call.”
“He won’t,” Gen said, biting her nail. “But maybe I should go with you.”
“Joe and I need to catch up,” Wallace said and tried to meet Gen’s eyes and telegraph that he would need a few minutes alone with Joe. Maybe a few hours.
They had a lot to talk about, and Wallace wasn’t looking forward to any of it. Joe went out the door first and as Wallace brought up the rear, he reached for her hand and squeezed once. Gen smiled at him a little uncertainly, which hit him hard in the gut. He hadn’t spent the last several hours worshipping her body for her to give him that kind of a look.
“I’ll drive,” Wallace said as they walked out the door. They drove to the Tavern on Second Street owned by Arnie, a former pro wrestler who had inherited the bar from his father, Screwy Dave.
“I really do owe you, buddy. I know you wanted to get up to the cabin. Now you can.”
“It was no problem. I was happy to do it.”
“Liar. I know she can be a handful.”
“Yeah.” Tonight had given a brand new meaning to ‘handful’.
As usual the place was packed on a Saturday Niner’s game night. Wallace caught sight of some of his brother Scott’s Army buddies by the pool table, and nodded in their direction.
Until There Was You (Book 3) Page 7