He swallowed, watched Jeanie hug Marly and when they were done greeting each other the way women did with chirping voices and excited gestures, he expected her to leave him behind.
“Mark—this way. I wanna show you something,” Jeanie said, holding her hand out for him to take it.
His smile doubled in width, and he took it without even thinking about it.
Marly’s eyes narrowed for a second, then she smoothed out her expression.
“What does he need to see?” Marly asked, voice tight.
“The garden . . . I always loved your mama’s gardens. They’re so peaceful, and she grows things here I’ve never seen anywhere else.”
“Taro,” Marly said, clucking her tongue at the end and rolling her eyes.
“What’s wrong with taro?” he teased her.
“No one likes poi. That’s old people food. But Mama insists on making it anytime we have a gathering. I think she made some for you today. Bluck! I’m not eating it.” Marly loped away.
“Wow, she made me poi? That’s . . .” Jeanie put a hand over her throat.
“What’s the big deal? She’s made it for me before,” he replied.
She tugged him along toward the backyard. They entered through the side gate that was wide open.
“It’s considered a sacred, hallowed tradition. Pono told me I shouldn’t ever turn my nose up at poi when it was offered. It’s part of their culture from long ago, and if it was presented at a table, they thought of it as a way to bring in the spirit of Haloa.” She paused and inhaled sharply, her eyes glazing over as she stared at the ground, unseeing. “Oh God . . . They’re summoning Pono for me.” Her head dropped further. “Haloa is the spirit of their Hawaiian ancestors. Why would they do that? I wanna move forward, not wallow.”
“I’m sure it’s not what you think. I mean, they’re not even Hawaiian—they’re Tongan.”
“Yeah, but they lived in Hawaii for quite a while and adopted a lot of their customs. I thought you knew this . . .”
He cupped her chin, tipping her head up to him. His stomach flipped when she licked her lips like she was ready for a kiss. He glanced around, and when he saw there was no one around, he stole a quick one. “I was teasing you. I did already know that about them. But you taste good, too. Very distracting. Mmm . . .”
“Stop. You’re giving me a big head, Sir,” she said with a soft giggle.
“Yeah, I’ve got a similar problem right now.” He dropped his eyes to his groin.
She clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled a little louder. “You’re so bad.” She averted her gaze.
“Not for you I’m not,” he said, leaning in and whispering in her ear as he brushed her long, dark hair over her shoulders. “I’m very, very good for you.”
“That remains to be seen.” She sauntered off, leaving him behind.
He chased after her. “Always wanted to re-enact the Garden of Eden. Sounds like absolute Heaven to me to make love to my woman in a lush, green garden of sin.” His voice was low, gritty and completely filled with longing.
He brushed the back of his index finger down her arm.
Her jaw clenched for a second.
All right—he wasn’t that big of a dick. He needed to cut it out before he pissed her off, or worse—scared her away.
She jerked her head toward the garden. Was she hinting she wanted him to take the lead?
Well, fuck . . . Of course that was what he wanted.
He stepped forward, and she almost matched his stride, lagging just barely behind him.
A rush of adrenaline rippled through him as visions hit him of having her on a leash, following along this exact same way.
He took a deep breath, and they moved into the garden surrounded with berry bushes on all sides.
Reminded him of the story Secret Garden with how secluded it felt.
His arms flexed, begging him to hold her and kiss her again, but instead, he turned to her and said, “What do you like best about this place?”
“I like how I’m surrounded with a feeling of love and peace, like nothing else matters. Birds fly over, and sometimes they squawk. It even gets a little humid in here at times if I sit in here too long, but my mind is always clear in this place.” She moved toward a love swing at the far corner.
He caught up to her and set his palm on the middle of her back. Not overly intimate, but he needed this connection, the feel of her body on his skin somewhere, even if it was small.
He sat and guided her down to his side—their thighs brushing against each other’s.
“So, when your mind is clear, it’s much easier to make decisions. While I have you here and you’re in this state, tell me what you’re thinking about our little arrangement.”
She stiffened at his side. “I’m thinking two weeks isn’t going to be enough.”
He smiled. “I agree. What do you suggest we do about that?”
She turned to him, and he smirked.
“That’s not what I meant.” She sucked in some air, and her abs contracted. A moment later, she shifted away from him a little. “I’m feeling like I’m at a disadvantage, Sir. You’ve been finding out all sorts of things about me over the last few years, and I only know what I was able to find out in our brief, sporadic encounters, or if Pono shared something with me about you.”
“Ask me anything—I’m open about my life, especially with you.”
“I don’t want to do it this way,” she said, her lips trembling. Was she frightened? He took her hand and ran his thumb along the edge of it with soothing strokes. “I want a solid week of talking like this—of us getting to know each other in a natural way, organically, before I let you do whatever you want to me.”
“I would never just do what I want with you. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Okay . . .” She blew out a huff of air and stared up at the sky. “I’ll tell you my understanding of how this works, and you tell me if I’m right or not.”
“Go ahead.” His thumb kept caressing, and a hum tingled in his hand from the contact.
“I don’t know why, but for some reason I think of this lifestyle in terms of architecture.” He chuckled, and she continued on. “I envision myself as the designer of a home.” His insides warmed a little at the thought of her saying something as cozy and inviting as a home, instead of a building or something else a little more impersonal. She swallowed.
He nodded. “Okay, I’m with you so far. Keep going.”
“So, I set up the parameters and give the guidelines of what the home should look like after it’s built. You’re the contractor, and you get to build the scene or the home, with whatever materials and tools you choose. If I think it’ll mess up the outcome, then I can stop the building mid-process, and you’ll rebuild the scene another way.” She exhaled like she was exhausted and her shoulders slumped forward. “I know it’s dorky, but it’s all I got.”
He smiled, and his thumb trailed up to her wrist. “Not dorky at all. You’re a very perceptive little one—yet another thing I love about you.”
“It’s hard for me when you say that, because I almost get jealous.”
“Jealous of what?” His brows pushed together.
“That you have a head start on all of this. You’ve been trained, you know me, and I want to know everything about you and your world, but I’m so far behind I worry I’ll never catch up no matter how hard I try,” she said, her voice low and slightly scratchy.
“You don’t ever have to worry about that. I’ll carry you.”
She snorted. “I just don’t know who I am with you . . .”
“You’re the woman you’ve repressed for so long—she’s a stranger to you. Tell me this—when you were married and you sacrificed everything for his happiness, what kept you going?”
“I don’t know. I kept thinking someday I’d get it right, and it would all make sense.” She gave a half-shrug.
“You’re submissive all the way, deep down to the bone, so it’s in you
r nature to sabotage yourself at times by giving away too much of yourself. I’m going to make sure both our needs get met. That’s never going to happen to you again.”
“You know, some people would say that’s what a controlling asshole would say.”
He chuckled low in his gut. “Some might say that, but you know better.”
Her brow popped up. “I do?”
“Yes, you do.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder with his free hand again. Her shoulder tightened, then shivered directly after contact. He set his hand over hers to settle her. “A controlling asshole would take no thought for what’s best for you. I would never do that to you. Pono may have, but I won’t—ever.”
She choked on her exhale. “He cared about what I wanted.” Her voice escalated.
“Go ahead and shout it, little one. I’m fine explaining to his family we’re back here and that your husband held you back.”
“How do you figure?” Her hand yanked out of his, and she crossed her arms over her chest, making the most delicious cleavage imaginable from his vantage point.
Fuck, she was so curvy and sweet.
“He went to school and finished, and you did what? Remind me . . .”
“I worked to help pay for bills and get him through, but we decided that together,” she said, her right eye twitching like she was barely holding back the tears.
“You never decided that together. You didn’t have a choice, sweetheart,” he said, his tone going soft and his eyes full of empathy. “You couldn’t have. You want to serve—to please. You saw that he needed this, and even if he’d told you that you should both go to school simultaneously, there’s no way you would’ve ever done that.” He reached out and stroked her hair for a second, then dropped his hand.
He already missed touching her.
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, why?” His brows pushed together again, and his eyes searched hers.
“Because you just said exactly what happened, except . . .” She looked away.
“Except?” He leaned toward her and inhaled the scent of her hair. Lovely—so feminine and subtle with her mix of clean, sexy and sweet. Very alluring.
“Except when he told me he thought we should both go to school together, I almost shut down. I couldn’t even think about what he was saying, so I had to walk away. We talked about it later after we . . . Well, you know.”
“Made love?”
“Yeah.”
“And how was that? Was it emotional?”
“No.” She tightened her arms around herself and still kept her eyes off him. “And not that it’s any of your business, Sir,” she said this word like it was a curse, “but it was stable.”
He exhaled in a slow, steady stream. “That’s another way of saying it was predictable and polite.”
“It was quiet and nice. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her head finally snapped back at him.
“There’s a reason it’s called vanilla. Not just because it’s safe, but because when a relationship first starts out, everything’s exciting, hot and heavy. Then things die down over time. He touches the woman there X many times, she comes. She puts her mouth on him there, he gets hard. He pumps inside her quietly. No one says a word, and no one really gets what they want but a meager orgasm they could’ve attained at their own hand. Vanilla gets old real quick, gets bland and it doesn’t even matter if it is still a basic, staple flavor. No one wants to have vanilla every day.”
“It’s boring,” she supplied.
He smiled and leaned into her, his lips at her ear, parting through her hair. “Exactly . . . And I don’t fuck a woman into being bored, nor do I do boring anywhere in my life at all.”
She turned to him, her lips mere inches from his. “You’re right. It was exactly like that.”
“And you don’t want that anymore. It’s not you—never was. I can see the real you, lurking under that calm surface of yours.”
“How do you know?” She blinked, and her soft breath pelted his lips.
He licked his lower one and paused. “Because I know you. When you breathe, it’s like you’re dying to break out of your mold. It’s intoxicating to watch, while simultaneously being my own personal torture, because I always knew you wanted more.”
Her chest expanded, her arms went lax and her hands went to her lap. “We should go in now. They’re probably wondering where we are.”
“Marly knows,” he said.
“Yeah, she does, but I don’t want them suspecting anything.” Her face suddenly paled. “You will behave, right, Sir?”
“I’m not a creepy bastard. I respect their family, but it doesn’t mean I won’t touch you in innocent ways. Now that you’ve told me you’ll give me three weeks, since you’ve added a week to our already agreed two, I have to touch you any chance I can get.”
She smiled, but there was worry in her eyes. “I think as long as you’re discreet, I’d love that.”
“I know you will, and I will, too. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you get through this as painlessly as possible.”
She hugged him and then backed away. “Oh, sorry . . .” She offered a shy smile.
“It’s fine. I’m glad you did that. It’s gonna be hell staying away from you in there.” He kissed her nose, stood and helped her up.
They walked out of the garden, and he whispered, “Such a sweet little thing, you are. I’ll want to eat you instead of the food.”
Her shoulder rose up, and he smirked when she shivered.
He quickened his pace, she followed along and when they got to the house, Marly was right inside, speaking to her mother.
“—and he stands really close to her all the time. Don’t you think that’s wrong? Pono just died!”
Her mother was stirring something on the stove. “He’s friendly. Mark’s a good kid. Pono probably told him to watch out for her. Now stop fussing. Go feed the ducks.”
“But she’s Pono’s!”
“She knows who she is—and right now, she doesn’t belong to anyone,” her mother said, tone sharp. “She’s a grown woman, and you need to mind your own business.”
Marly stomped out of the kitchen and didn’t even see them as she headed down the hall. A few seconds later, they heard her door slam shut.
Mark took Jeanie’s hand and led her through the living room into the family room.
Pono’s father was shining something in his hand.
“I’ve brought your guest of honor,” Mark said.
“Oh, hi, Mark . . . Jeanie.” Kueili looked up from his task and smiled. “Lunch should be done soon.”
“Smells great,” she said.
“Yeah, my wife’s always cooking something that makes my pants shrink on me. I haven’t needed a belt in years.” Kueili laughed.
“Is it okay if we take a seat?” she asked.
“Sure, help yourself.” Kueili frowned. “You’re always welcome here—this is your home just as it is ours.” He looked at Mark. “You too.” His face pinched for a second. “You were always there for our son, and we’ll never forget that.”
“And he was there for me. We’ve always been very different from each other, but we respected and admired those unique traits that made us so opposite.” Mark smiled, and Jeanie scooted a little closer, making his belly warm.
“Mark’s good at protecting those he cares about,” she added.
“Yes, he is.” Kueili set down the polishing cloth, stood up and walked over to Jeanie. “And I’m always grateful for that.” He extended his hand out to her—his fist closed tightly over some object. “This is for you.”
She held her hand out, facing up, palm cupped, and he placed something in the center of her hand.
“I thought you should have this,” he said.
Her eyes welled up, and her face contorted. “Pono’s wedding ring? How did you . . . ?”
“I took it. I wasn’t supposed to, but when his mother wasn’t around and I was left alone with his body, I sl
ipped it off his finger. I thought you’d need it.”
“I don’t know what to say.” She gaped at the object in her shaking hand.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Kueili beamed down at her. “All that matters is that you find happiness, and you take hold of it.”
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes misted and then Pono’s dad left the room.
Mark’s hand immediately went to hers.
She ripped it out of his. “You’re trying to take the ring?”
“No.” His brow slanted into a V. “I would never do that. You just went through”—he groaned—“and I wanted to help you feel better.”
“I’m fine, okay? I don’t need you to coddle me.” She stood up and looked like she was going to go after Kueili. “Are you coming?” she asked, craning her head over her shoulder, then looking disappointed. Had she expected him to automatically follow? Obviously, she failed to understand how a Dom operated. He was fine with her showing him the garden, taking his hand initially, but that was about the extent of what he’d allow.
“I’ll be there for you no matter what, but if you ever need space . . .” He gave her a firm look.
“I know,” she said softly. Her right shoulder rolled forward, and she rested her chin on it for a second. “I’m sorry I acted like that. I’m not sure what happened.”
He came to her side and kept his distance. “It’s completely understandable. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“But I will.” She took a shuddering breath. “You protect people you care about, and I worry about the people I care about. I can’t stop that part of me any more than you can yours.”
He brushed her hair over her shoulder, his new favorite innocent gesture around her in public, and inhaled her beautiful, spine-melting scent. God, he wanted her wrapped around him right now—to be able to embrace her and free her soul from years’ worth of guilt she never should’ve had.
She handed him the ring, and her eyes softened. “Will you keep this for me?”
He had pockets—she didn’t with her dress and no purse on her. A beat later, he hid it safely away. “Of course I will. I’d be honored to do that.”
Knots Page 7