“The branch of law I’d chosen wasn’t working for me,” Noah said with a level voice, taking the turkey platter from Cynthia.
“Hmm.” Cynthia’s dad nodded thoughtfully. “Shame. Although taking a break after college is always a good idea. You probably jumped into law school too soon. You know…” He shifted in his seat and rested his forearms against the edge of the table. “An acquaintance of mine is having great success with his own practice. He opened it a few years ago, and it’s grown every year. That’s always an option. Then you can pick and choose which cases you take. You’re in the driver’s seat. Then again, it takes a certain type of individual to run a business. It’s hard work.”
Noah nodded thoughtfully. “That’s something to think about. I was thinking about switching professions soon—”
“Would you two shut up? I can’t hear a blasted thing going on at the other end of the table,” Uncle Art yelled at Larry and Aaron. “Say, Noah, did you hear the one about—”
“No.” Cynthia’s mom raised her hand. “No jokes, remember?”
“This one is child friendly,” Uncle Art said.
“Speaking of the kids, where are they?” Noah asked.
“They’re with the nanny Tera and Ellen hired,” Cynthia answered.
“My daughters are under the impression that having kids doesn’t mean you actually need to raise them.” Rick raised his eyebrows in silent judgment while scooping up a forkful of peas. They didn’t stay on long before scattering around his plate. He sighed quietly. “Why did she order peas? They are a nuisance to eat.”
“Just like all the men here have been raising their kids these last few days…while on the golf course?” Cynthia muttered, shaking her head.
“What’s that, Cynthia?” her dad asked, abandoning the peas in favor of the mashed potatoes.
“Food looks great.” She smiled at him as she started eating.
“Oh.” Her dad nodded before putting a forkful of potatoes into his mouth.
Dinner passed in a strange mismatch of conversation. Cynthia’s dad didn’t have much to say, Aunt Bessie was amazingly quiet, and Uncle Art roared constantly. By the time everyone was ready for dessert, Cynthia was desperate to pack her bag and set off for Sacramento right then.
“Cynthia, dear, sit down and entertain your guest,” her mom said as she rose and grabbed a few dirty plates.
“Nice,” Cynthia muttered, beaming at Noah. “You should come to all these things.”
“The special treatment only lasts while it’s new,” Tera muttered as she walked by, carrying plates.
Aaron rose and stretched, adjusting his pants over his stomach. “Great dinner.” He looked at the dirty plate in front of him, glanced off toward the kitchen, then stepped away. “I’m just going to hit the restroom.”
“Yeah…” Larry pushed his chair back. “I’ll…”
Cynthia didn’t hear his muttered excuse as he followed Larry out of the dining room.
“The men don’t usually clean up at my house, either,” Noah said quietly, turning toward her and putting his hand on the back of her chair. “Tia absolutely froths at the mouth because of it, but she deals with it because they aren’t her parents.”
“My dad usually puts his own dish by the sink,” Cynthia whispered. “Then he wanders off.”
“Mine doesn’t. My mom grabs it for him. They’ve always been like that. Stuck in their ways.”
“Why don’t you help break the mold?” she asked, tentatively reaching forward and bracing her hand on his thigh.
His small smile and the spark of lust in his eyes made her clench her lady bits. “The same reason you aren’t helping out now,” he said softly, clearly so her father, who was now getting up to take his one dish into the kitchen, wouldn’t overhear. She had a feeling he’d retire to his study—and a cognac—rather than come back.
“Good point. I don’t even feel guilty. Then again, I’ve been Cinderella for the last couple weeks, so I’m over it. But in real life, you help?”
His smile broadened. “In real life, I cook and clean, because I’m a bachelor that lives alone, and don’t have anyone to do it for me.”
Her mood darkened, and she pulled away from him. She wasn’t moving into his house to be his servant. And if this ever went further, there was no way she’d cook for him, serve him, and clean up after him. No way in hell.
He laughed. “I was teasing. I realize that even if you lived there, I still wouldn’t have anyone to do those things for me,” he said. “I’m not like our fathers, don’t worry.”
“If she lived where?” her mother asked as she bustled in from the kitchen. “Cynthia, are you moving?” she said a moment later, headed the other way with a couple of picked-over trays.
“Am I telling them?” Cynthia mumbled to Noah.
“Cynthia?” Tamie said, back for more dirty dishes. Ellen and Tera had to be on rinsing and dishwasher duty.
“If you’d like.” Noah took her hand under the table and entwined his fingers with hers.
“Noah has asked—” Cynthia watched her mother disappear around the corner. “Right.”
“I’ll probably have to go home after this and put in some time,” Noah said, his thumb stroking hers. “Because I was thinking about changing my plans and leaving tomorrow. My dad’s really pissed, so I’d rather not spend the weekend with him.”
“Oh.” Cynthia dodged the uncertainty that always plagued her with new romantic interests. “Sure. When, ah…”
“Now what was that, Cynthia?” her mom said, picking up the last of the dirty dishes.
“Do you have any more wine?” Uncle Art, who was still sitting at the table like a king waiting for his next course, said much too loudly.
“It’s there, on the sideboard. In that nook over there.” Tamie waved her finger. “Honestly, Art, how many times have you been here? Turn your head—”
“Ah! Yes.” Uncle Art hefted his girth out of chair.
“Cynthia—”
“Mother, are all these desserts going?” Ellen yelled from around the corner.
Cynthia’s mom twisted and headed back into the kitchen.
“I don’t blame you,” Aunt Bessie said from across the table as a dramatic show of flatulence made the two husbands at the end of the table jump. They’d only just returned from their chore-avoidance routine. Both turned incredulously to Uncle Art, who grunted and poured his wine.
“I would leave at the first available opportunity,” Aunt Bessie continued. “This place is a nut house. But when you get married, remember that I’m a good cleaner. And I love children. I’m great at watching them. Just park me in an in-law suite or the attic, if you can find a house in California that has one, and you’ll have free labor. I’m signing myself up.”
Cynthia stared at her great-aunt for a moment. There was so much to unpack in that outburst that she didn’t know where to start. She went for the most obvious. “How would you possibly get up the stairs to an attic?”
Aunt Bessie grinned and patted her wheelchair. “This is just for show. If I looked healthy, I’d have to help serve and clean up.”
Cynthia’s mouth dropped open as Noah started laughing.
“Now, Cynthia,” her mother said as she came back into the room. Despite all her running around, she still looked fresh and vibrant. Her mother had a gift. “What was that you were saying? Where are you going?”
“She’ll probably follow him around like a lost puppy before she catches on that he’s just using her,” Ellen groused as she walked by with a pumpkin pie. Ellen’s husband seemed completely oblivious that Ellen was upset.
“Oh, my favorite. Gives me horrible heartburn, though.” Uncle Art followed the pie with his gaze.
“At least you can’t force your heartburn on the rest of us, stinky,” Aunt Bessie yelled down at him.
Cynthia laughed when she noticed her mom’s nose twitch, followed by a sour look. Her laughter stopped as soon as the smell reached her.
“
Why did you have to invite him, and when is he going to pass out so we can have some peace?” Cynthia said with a groan.
“Cynthia, don’t be rude. You know he has no other family.” Tamie scowled at Aunt Bessie, clearly including her in that command. “Now, for the final time, what is this about moving?”
Seventeen
Noah was having a hard time keeping the chuckles under wraps. He had never, ever been to a family gathering like this.
Cynthia’s face went completely blank like before, and he was starting to realize what it meant—it was her way of hiding her feelings. It was extremely effective.
“Noah has asked me for marketing help for a friend of his,” Cynthia said in a flat voice.
“What friend?” Ellen asked as she sat in her chair.
“Colton,” Cynthia replied. She opened her mouth to say more, but didn’t get a chance.
“Colton?” Ellen barked out a laugh. “The biggest slut in high school, you mean?”
“Ellen!” Tamie admonished. “I will not have that kind of talk at my table.”
“Men aren’t sluts,” Art said, his words slurring. “We are naturally predisposed to spread our seed. We shouldn’t be tied down, isn’t that right, Aaron? Larry? Noah, you know what I mean. Our nature is to boink every girl we can.”
“Art, really,” Tamie said, leaning heavily against the back of an open chair.
Art put his glass of wine down a little harder than was necessary, nearly a crash landing. “And when I say boink, what I actually mean is f—”
“No, no!” Tamie took two quick steps toward him with her hands out. “No, Art. We’re at the dinner table, remember. We’re not at some bar in…wherever it is you go.”
“What?” Art spread his hands wide, his look one of innocent confusion. “We’re all adults here.” The vibration came first, followed by the thunder of more flatulence.
“Good God,” Tamie said softly, shaking her head and turning toward Noah. “He’s Rick’s brother. I…” She shook her head again.
Aaron and Larry muttered something before rising from the table. They wandered off without another word. Art chuckled to himself as he gulped more wine.
“He always gets wasted at family parties and turns into a mess before passing out on the nearest couch,” Cynthia muttered. “I wish I were kidding, but sadly, this is my family.”
“Here’s the last… What’s that smell?” Tera asked as she appeared in the doorway with a tray full of cupcakes.
Noah’s chest warmed and a smile crossed his face. Cynthia had gotten those just for him. Despite making fun of him, she’d remembered what he liked and thought to get it.
He ran his fingertips along the side of her face before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She turned to him, a cock-eyed smile on her face. Oh, she was reveling in her sister’s disgust. Then her smile slipped and an intense look crossed her face.
“Where’s the pecan pie?” he asked softly. Tera had set the cupcakes down close to him and returned to her seat.
Cynthia moved her hand back to his thigh. His cock stiffened painfully. She was so breathtakingly beautiful. So fun and full of life. He wanted her so badly.
“Noah, I am so sorry about the pecan pie,” Tamie said as she sat down. “I know I promised it. But the strangest thing happened…”
“I accidentally opened the back door and drop-kicked it,” Cynthia said with that same flat tone, looking dead serious. “I don’t know what came over me. The only explanation I can think of is that the thought of anyone liking such a horrible dessert made me act out in rage.”
“Cynthia, stop it with the dramatics,” Tamie said as Tera rolled her eyes. “But yes, strangely…uhh…”
“Strangely, Cynthia drop-kicked the pie out of the back door.” Tera looked at her sister with one eyebrow arched high.
“She was always a great soccer player.” Aunt Bessie nodded Cynthia’s way.
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t gratifying,” Cynthia said.
Art started laughing so hard his stomach shook the table.
“But not to fear—Cynthia said that you also like cupcakes,” Tamie said. “And since she’d already picked these up, I hope they’ll be an okay stand-in.”
“That’s great,” Noah said, letting his hand trail down Cynthia’s arm until he was holding her hand in his own again.
“So anyway, Mom.” Cynthia handed her plate down for pumpkin pie, and Tera dished it up. “I’m going to stay with Noah for a while so I can help his friend. Hopefully I can find a job during the off-hours. I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Are you serious?” Ellen asked Noah with hard eyes. “You’re going to let her stay in your house?”
“Ellen, go see if your father wants some dessert,” Tamie said in a low, aggressive tone.
Ellen didn’t budge, still staring at Noah.
“Ellen,” Tamie snapped.
After shaking her head, Ellen pushed herself away from the table and stalked off.
“Well, that was awkward,” Cynthia muttered.
“She had a bad reaction to the…shrimp cocktail earlier,” Tera said, her voice not selling it.
“Sour grapes,” Aunt Bessie said before pointing at the tray of cupcakes. “Finally, a decent dessert.”
“When are you leaving?” Tamie asked, not taking any dessert for herself.
“I’m thinking of leaving tomorrow,” Noah said. “Cynthia is welcome to go with me, if she’d like. Or come whenever she can.”
“So soon?” Tamie said before Cynthia could get a word in. “Well, I suppose when the opportunity is calling, you have to go for it. I’ll help you pack after dinner, dear. We’ll have you ready.”
“It’s like talking in a wind tunnel,” Aunt Bessie said.
Another burst of flatulence had Tera rising from her chair. “Sorry, Mom, I can’t. He’s just…”
“It’s this chair, Tera,” Art said, his eyes drooping now. “The damn thing squeaks.”
“You got the best one of them all,” Aunt Bessie said.
Noah turned to see Aunt Bessie looking at him with a small smile. “Charlotte is the absolute best of them all. You’re a lucky man.” The smile disappeared and seriousness stole over her expression. “Remember, I am very good at cleaning. I just love kids. I’d be a great addition to your family. A closet is plenty of space for me. Anything. I’d be happy to help.”
“Bessie, really. You’d think you were trapped here.” Tamie huffed.
“Okay.” Cynthia pushed away from the table. “Well, that was all super awkward. I’m thoroughly embarrassed, so it’s time to go.”
Noah stood with her before grabbing a cupcake for the road. He got a one-fork salute from Art, accompanied by a drunken grunt.
Outside, Noah tilted up Cynthia’s face so he could kiss her thoroughly. His body ached to explore her. To find a place where they wouldn’t be disturbed so he could kiss every inch of her skin. But that was impossible. It was too early in the evening, and both of their families were roaming around.
“I need to put in some time with my parents,” he said, his face close to hers, the air heating up between them despite the chilliness of the night. “But…can I see you later? After everyone has gone to bed?”
Her eyes sparkled, but the next moment, the corners of her lips turned downward. She untucked the bottom of his shirt and slid her hands along his skin. He sighed as his cock strained, needing to be inside of her so badly it ached.
“I want nothing more than to spend the night with you,” she said, leaning closer. “But…I don’t want this to be in any way like high school. Like your past. You know, sneaking around…”
Like he did with Ellen. What he wouldn’t give for a time machine.
“I get it,” he said, smoothing her hair around her face. “That’s fine. Will you come home with me tomorrow?”
Her smile was sweet and anxious. “Yes.”
“Then we’ll wait until tomorrow. Or whenever you’re ready.” He bent d
own, running his lips over hers. “I really like you, Cynthia.”
She smiled against his lips. “I like you too,” she murmured.
He kissed her again, his tongue flirting with hers, his body pressed tightly against her. When she moaned softly, he barely restrained himself from grabbing her butt and sinking down so he could thrust against her eagerly. Instead, he stepped back, a man of his word. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
It was the longest night of his life. He’d nearly rubbed himself raw thinking about her. Thinking about how close she was—just four houses down—lying in her bed, possibly pleasuring herself as he was doing. Thinking of him while he was thinking of her.
The next morning, he was packed and ready at nine a.m. He’d told the guys he was bringing her back with him, and also that he was giving up Big Dick Escort Service. He’d told the girls to stay away so they didn’t scare Cynthia straight back to her parents’. Janie had enjoyed a good laugh at that.
It was the last text from Ethan that had slapped Noah with an uncomfortable reality.
You might be getting out of BD, but you’ll want to tell her about it. Ladies can’t take a joke when the punchline is you being a whore.
He stood near his Range Rover, staring down at his phone.
What was he thinking? He should’ve told her his real occupation. Maybe not right at the beginning, but he definitely should have come clean before asking her to come home with him. Granted, he wasn’t actually asking her to live with him, but it was damn close. He knew she wouldn’t be sleeping in the spare room. And if she did, he’d want to be with her. He’d tossed and turned all night wishing she was near him.
He blew out a breath as his phone chimed with a text.
It was Cynthia. I see you.
He glanced up, looking at her car and then her front yard, but didn’t see anything.
Another ping. But you can’t see me.
Sterling Page 12
