It’s him. I know it’s him.
Damn you, Blake Barnes. Dam you for being so perfect.
It doesn’t take Blake long, and I hear some pipes groaning and some shuddering in the ancient walls of the house, but I know he’s done what he said he would.
Not long after, I hear the sound of running water and a little later some steam finds its way down the stairs with Blake calling out that my bath is almost ready.
Making me clutch at his shirt, at the blanket, but drawn more to the sound of him than the feel of his memory on me.
It’s still new, not feeling shy like this. But I make my way through the hallway, pausing to study some of the old woodwork and finery that shows through heavy cotton drapery, then I make my way up the heavy wooden staircase and follow the steam to Blake.
“I gotta bit of work to do,” he admits, eyeing some peeling paintwork in the bathroom.
“I thought this wasn’t your house?” I ask, not really caring as he hugs me and his full warmth against mine compliments his shirt robe perfectly.
“I just want it to be perfect, for you Lois,” he murmurs. “For us.”
I inhale the new scent, a heady mix of vintage bath oils and perfume from the steaming tub, which looks so inviting I only hope Blake will join me.
“It’s Mrs. B’s house… for now,” he says, seeming distracted.
“But I’ll work something out. I promise. Now get in the tub will ya? You’re freezing, look!”
He presses both his thumbs to my stiff nipples, making me moan and swoon on the spot before he takes me into his arms and kisses me deeply again.
So deep I feel a familiar sensation rising again.
“I’ll make us something to eat. You just soak in that tub until I say so. Okay?” he says firmly, sliding me out of his shirt and into the perfect hot water of the tub.
I almost gasp, sinking deeper and deeper into it, until I realize that like everything in this place, it works. It’s made to last and it’s just perfect.
I sink into my second heaven for the day and only open my eyes when Blake reappears with a tray of two plates. My favorite, lasagna.
“Don’t ask,” he says, slipping his pants off and putting a thick board across the bath before running some fresh hot water.
“Just let me drain the plug a little and get in there behind you.”
I slide forward and drain the tub a little, letting Blake manage the faucet as fresh hot water streams into our new dining room.
With no effort, he plants himself behind me, and our dinner in front as I catch myself sighing again, realizing this man is a force of nature.
A natural wonder.
Leaning back into his firm body and smiling at his extra hardness against my own back, I can’t wait to eat something…
Or wait for it to be over, so he can show me what he has planned next.
Chapter Sixteen
Blake
It’s been a while since I fired the boiler up, maybe longer since a decent meal, but with Lois, I have to.
I’ve got a lot of work ahead to get the house ship-shape for her, but before that I know she still has questions.
And I have a few of my own.
“You really meant all that stuff about babies?” I ask her, trying not to sound so eager. My heart is in my throat at the thought of it…
This whole place, filled with little Lois’ and even littler Blake’s.
She murmurs her agreement, and I help her to a fork full of my own food, wanting to get as much nourishment into her as I can. I haven’t seen her eat since we even met.
It’s not a five star meal, but it’s warm and there’s plenty of it.
I’ve missed my food too, since being stuck up here and I decided it might be time to get out… to get away even, just for a little while.
The world is gonna have their Blake Barnes story, so it may as well come from the only reporter I trust.
“What do you want, Lois. I mean, what do you really want?” I ask her, pushing the board of plates a little further away from us as I wrap my hands around her once we’re done eating.
Making sure to keep them close enough to her chest, my thumbs resting on her thick nipples as she sighs in question, I squeeze her tight.
“You mean, from now on… with you and me?” she asks, hamming up the country accent I never knew she had in her.
Frowning.
“I mean it, Lois. I can tell you want to be a reporter… a real reporter…”
She goes quiet, nodding to herself. Probably remembering how she just got fired from her first real reporter’s job.
I don’t even have to think, it’s what I wanted to say back at the newspaper office but I certainly don’t want that washed out Barbie doll boss of hers in on it.
“I want you to be the voice of my story, Lois. I want you to be my new press secretary if that’s what you wanna call it.”
I feel her go rigid, frozen in thought for a moment.
“As an independent reporter, you mean?” she says, making me smile and squeezing her tighter.
“As a completely independent agent, selling the story to the world, on your terms,” I add and meaning it.
I don’t have much to give Lois right now, a roof over our heads, and probably a giant legal headache coming up. The least I can do is make sure she gets to do what she loves and turn some coin from it.
“A word of advice…” I whisper into her ear before kissing it tenderly, “Don’t ever be scared to use the word million… or two… or three.”
I feel her gasp and then go quiet again, the wheels turning in her mind.
A loud splash of bathwater to my face jolts me as she spins around, trying to face me.
“You really mean it, don’t you?” she asks, but I’m already nodding.
“I’m thinking we should get outta this town before the sheriff and your ex-boss blow the story anyway. We can get away and you can pitch the real deal to some networks. I have a few contacts who would be more than happy to help,” I tell her.
It’s true. A lot of ex-ball players started their own sports and media production companies. All loaded with media contacts.
I want Lois to tell my story, the real story too, and to make a shit ton of money in the process.
Something tells me in my gut we’re going to need it.
Old Mrs. Barnes doesn’t mind me staying here, but she sure as hell isn’t just gonna give me a house. Plus, once news of my reappearance hits the news, I don’t think my old team is gonna want me to tell the world what they did once they found out I was missing.
I let her think about it for a minute. I feel her body tensing and relaxing, before she finally leans back into me, my favorite feeling lately, and tells me she’ll do whatever I think is best.
“That’s my point, Lois. We or you need to act on this pretty fast. I’m all for getting away but I wanna be sure you don’t feel like you’ve gained a man because you lost your job.”
“I don’t feel that way,” she says, almost sounding annoyed.
“I just want what’s best for you, Lois. If you want it, it’s there, if not, we can just get outta here and lay low until the dust settles. What D’ya say?” I ask her, realizing the extent of my own words.
If we were still in the city, the whole place would be buzzing with helicopters by now, the yard full of reporters.
Lawyers.
I nearly groan out loud at the thought but feel my systems recharged when Lois finally makes up her own mind.
“You know what, Blake? I think you’re right. I’m never gonna get a break with a small town paper and what’s the harm in at least trying out your idea?” she says, sounding not too uncertain either.
I chuckle softly, hugging her and biting her neck until she squeals.
“You’ll do great. I just know you will.” But I have to caution her, for real.
“It won’t be easy though, Lois, and I don’t want to be the one in front of the cameras… only do as much as you f
eel like doing and delegate the rest.
Without even hesitating, she agrees. “When do we leave?” she asks.
That’s my girl!
“I’ll make some calls once we’re dried and dressed unless you want to wait?”
She shakes her head. “I think we might’ve spent too much time doing other things already.”
I can feel the cogs turning in her mind, but don’t regret a second of our time together so far.
Nor do I think we should wait.
It kills me to not watch her dry and dress, but I know there’s one call I should’ve made sooner later before I even went to Lois’ office.
Make that two phone calls...
Chapter Seventeen
Lois
It’s as much a dream come true as the rest of the past twenty-four hours, so why not?
I try to reason myself out of it, but Blake is always so matter of fact about everything, I feel silly to doubt him.
I want to be a reporter, here’s the scoop of the year, and he wants to give me exclusive rights to it, easy right?
Except I’m pissing my panties.
I have no idea what I’m doing, and once I make up my mind and say yes, Blake’s out of the bath and running around half-naked, cranking up the ancient telephone downstairs.
I dry myself, and taking the dishes down with me wearing only Blake’s shirt, I start to feel less excited, and more sick about what I’ve just agreed to.
I have no experience, no real presence, and when I overhear Blake on the phone to what must be his lawyer, I feel weak in the knees.
“That’s right. An injunction against the town’s newspaper and the county sheriff’s office. I want a complete media blackout on this, Hal and quickly. Sue those pricks if they even so much as say my name, got it? I got an agent, she’ll be in touch when we get to civilization… Yeah, yeah! I’m calling her next.”
I pause in the hallway, shivering with nerves by now, and just as he’s dialing someone else on the ancient handset, he ushers me over.
He frowns and takes the dishes from my hands, settling me in his lap as he sets himself down, snuggling me into him
“You got this Lois. I know you’ll do great, and like I said only do what you feel comfortable doing.”
I smile nervously, almost jumping when I hear a familiar voice crackling through the handset… the same voice that was shouting at the sheriff in the newspaper office.
“Mrs. B!” Blake exclaims, and I know I’m about to feel ill, but he grips me harder and keeps me on his lap the whole time.
She’s ancient, half-deaf, and has a temper on her I wouldn’t want to cross, but I can hear instantly that she and Blake have a special bond.
Almost like mother and son.
Almost.
He has to do some fast-talking, apologizing for the call from the sheriff and telling her he’s found a nice girl; that we want to visit… that we also want her to keep her side of the story quiet. For now, ignore the papers if they call, except for Lois, she’s alright.
There’s a long silence, and I almost start to think she might have fallen asleep, but Blake squeezes my thigh in anticipation.
Finally, I hear an old voice, barking down the line that she’s glad Blake finally came to his senses, and could he just make sure he comes after eleven tomorrow, she’s got hydrotherapy in the morning.
Blake seems tickled pink as he hangs up, but I punch his arm and then his chest, asking him why he’d go and do that, involve me like that.
He almost looks hurt, but his devilish grin is his only reply before he kisses me and hugs me tighter, both of us shivering a little from the cold and me from the excitement.
He scoops me up and carries me into the living room, in front of the fire and explains.
“Please, trust me, Lois? I got a ton of things to do and I want to make sure I have you by my side. I spent so long hiding out here, with only one thing stopping me from telling my side of the story.”
I feel my mouth hanging open, not just from the sight of him half naked in front of the fireplace, but from genuine curiosity.
“I needed a good agent, press person, whatever you call people like you! I needed a miracle and here you are baby!”
I’m still confused.
“This is a railroad town, right?” he asks and grins again as I nod absently. “I know because we’ll be on the next first-class carriage that passes through here, be in the city and Mrs. B’s retirement condo village by morning. You can take things from there, with the press I mean… once we’re in the big smoke…”
I must look ill again, or frightened or both because Blake holds me against him and laughs softly.
Reassuring me.
“You’re going to be great, honey… and we’re gonna-”
He looks away, blushing a little, like he wants to say a lot more but thinks better of it.
“We’re gonna do great, you’ll see.”
He kisses the top of my head, tells me I should maybe get dressed. He disappears, but only into the next room, and then reappears again somewhere else in the house, whistling to himself as he gets whatever plan he has into action, stopping to make another phone call or two I can’t quite overhear.
Within a few minutes, I’m shivering with nervous energy by the fire, clutching my elbows as I try and figure out how exactly to journalist.
When I remember what Blake said, ‘…only do as much as you feel like doing and delegate the rest.’
I have a lightbulb moment, reflecting on my whole college class, even my professors who always lamented the biggest obstacle in becoming a recognized journalist… getting that big story.
More importantly, having exclusive access to it.
I love Blake, and I’ll only ever do what he’s okay with… but hang it all, he’s just spent a half-hour telling me the story of the year is mine if I want it.
Just like him, he’s all mine.
I just have to reach out and grab it.
Blake bounces back in, looking more energized than ever, looking like he’s worked out every day for a year and never missed a game.
“Good news?” I ask, feeling pretty happy with things now myself.
“How attached are you to your car?” He asks, and I shrug.
“What’s the alternative?” I ask, sensing we’ll have to leave her behind.
“Just for a while, long term parking opposite the railway platform once we get there,” he says, looking worried I might not approve.
“I love you, Blake Barnes,” I tell him, and watching him flush and then stand taller, I walk over to him and wait for him to bend low enough so I can kiss him.
“I know you’re doing this for all of us,” I whisper to him. “For me, for you, for Mrs. B.”
He creases a smile, and for the first time, I notice a dimple on his chin when he smiles like that.
Making me sigh.
“I hoped you’d catch on,” he says softly. “But I really am doing it for you, Lois, for us.”
He gets another one of those faraway looks again, then smiles to himself.
It makes me tingle inside when he does that.
And I tell myself I don’t even know why.
Chapter Eighteen
Blake
For the first time ever, I take great care to lock up the old place, making sure the lock stays locked and we can get back in… without any unwanted visitors in the meantime.
Haunted house…
If I thought Lois looked nervous, I admit I have to hide my own shivers by the time we reach the station, park her car, and get aboard. All just moments before the train leaves.
It’s a vintage line, restored and run for tourists. Expensive as hell for where it takes you, but it’s better than flying.
I’ll admit, I still have a thing about planes, even cars.
Most importantly, it’ll take us right through overnight and give Lois and me some privacy.
And a real dinner, I hope. My own hunger has been woken up with
a hot meal and now I’m famished.
For food, and for more of Lois.
Like a princess in a dream, she holds my arm as I guide her through the train station, to the first class compartments. A whole car to ourselves.
She’s shaking her head in disbelief, and I explain my thing with planes, travel in general.
“What about the sheriff?” she asks. “Weren’t you supposed to report to him before leaving town?” she asks, a sly grin curling the corner of her mouth, which I kiss.
“Oops,” I murmur, ushering her into a section of the car laid out for dinner.
“A second dinner!” she exclaims excitedly, and I feel a moment’s hesitation. Right before she turns to kiss me again.
“It’s just perfect, Blake. I’m starving.”
The whole carriage is timber-lined, carved oak, and heavy velvet drapes. Rich fittings and deep colors. The whole feel, touch, and even smell of an era long gone. It could be the twenties or it could be the forties.
“It’s just so beautiful,” she says out loud, and without looking up from her behind, I have to agree.
“It sure is… It most certainly is…” I murmur.
The shrill chime of Lois’ cellphone in unison with the carriage phone brings us right back to the twenty-first century.
“I was hoping all this could wait until after dinner, until after we-” I start to say but a crisply uniformed steward suddenly brings Lois her laptop, making her frown and look up at me.
I can only shrug, taking my call, as she looks at her own phone, her eyes wide with disbelief, and then shining with amusement.
I was hoping for a menu, but it looks and sounds like the circus has come to town before we’re even there.
I have a call from my lawyer, Hal. He’s itching about the press, but it seems the injunction went through quicker than he thought.
“If anyone breathes a word of your ‘discovery’ without your say so? We got a case. As for your former team contract? That’s a whole different bag of cats,” he says, sounding serious.
Haunted By Her Curves: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 206) Page 6
