Read With Your Heart: a small town romance

by L. B. Dunbar

  I hear the bathroom door open.

  Yanking my hand away from my aching core, I almost cry out. Instead, I peek around the curtain. Surely whoever opened the door knows someone is in here. The shower is loud. You can hear it from anywhere upstairs when it’s on. I’m ready to bark out my need for privacy when I find Leon on the other side of the drape.

  His shirt is off. His eyes meet mine, and he presses a finger to his lips.

  Oh God. Oh God, is he coming in here? We’ll be completely naked, just the two of us, and I’ve never done this. Trent and I never showered together. Ever.

  I tug the curtain back into place and step back, forcing myself under the spray once again until a tan hand moves the vinyl covering and steps into the tub. He’s taller than me by several inches, and I keep my eyes on his face instead of looking at the hardened inches lower on his body. Stepping forward, he cups my face.

  “We need to be very quiet,” he says to me, and I nod with his hands on my jaw. He drags his nose along mine, and then his mouth covers my lips. It’s tender and sweet at first. A suck at the bottom curve, then a lick across the top, only my tongue chases his, and the second they touch, we explode. His tongue delves into my mouth, and I grip his biceps, drawing myself against him. One hand releases my face and rushes down my body, fingers searching as he lowers and lowers until they return to where he was in my bed. My breath hitches, and he catches the sound, swallowing it with his kiss.

  With his fingers at my core but not inside me, he spins us, so he stands under the spray a second, the water teeming down his body. He releases my mouth, then looks down at his fingers playing with the curls and teasing the tender nub.

  “This okay, baby?” It seems eons too late to ask, but I’d never tell him no. Not like this. Not yet.

  My mouth seeks his in answer, and his middle finger slips inward.

  “Oh God,” I cry out against his lips, but he clamps them down, drawing the words into him as his tongue leaps against mine. His finger moves in and out of me, and my legs tremble.

  “Hold onto me,” he mutters against my mouth, and my hand reaches out to grip him. I’m not hesitant. My palm finds him hard and stiff and longer than anything I’ve ever experienced. I wrap my fingers around him and stroke. He chuckles into my mouth.

  “Not what I meant, but now that you’re holding me, don’t stop.”

  “Oh,” I quietly gasp as he rocks his hips and pulls me closer. His hand cups the back of my head while his fingers give me their delicious attention on a long-neglected part of my body. With him in my palm and his fingers in me, we stand as close as we can, hips moving in tandem. If only we matched heights, he’d be inside me, and the thought sends a ripple of excitement through me. I squeeze him harder, tug at him faster.

  “Baby.” He breaks from my mouth. “Lift your leg.”

  I follow his command, placing my foot on the edge of the tub, but he brings it to his hip, cupping my backside in his hand. I’m opened in a new way, and he bends his knees. I still fist him. He still fingers me, but he’s close enough I drag him near my lower belly. His hips move like he’s dancing, and I watch our fingers reaching, grabbing, pleasing.

  “Leon,” I whisper, and his mouth covers mine for another deep kiss. Keeping his lips against mine, he mutters, “Let me feel it.”

  And I break. I squeeze and hold him while the orgasm races through me, rippling up my thighs and spreading downward from my belly. My legs stiffen, and I rise up on my toes while my forehead falls to his chest. I clench him in my fist while I grip his fingers inside me, never wanting this feeling to end. I’m torn apart and pulled back together, and then my legs give out. He clutches at my raised leg, steadying me in place against him another second.

  He slows his attention to my channel, and I lower my trembling leg. With his other hand, he covers my fingers wrapped over him, curling around his thickness, and collectively, we work at him, jerking faster, gripping harder until he stills. His mouth crushes mine, forcing me to swallow his straining moans as he releases.

  Slowly, he breaks the kiss, both of us breathing heavily. He watches as his fingers slide out of me, and I let go of my hold on him.

  “Beautiful,” he says, his voice reverent as I look up at him. He leans forward and kisses me again, sweet and tender like when we started, and then he steps back and reaches for something. The tub has been taken over by bottles of shampoo and conditioner along with body washes and two bars of soap plus a mesh sponge. Leon pours body wash on the sponge and scrubs it over my body, taking his time to circle my front with the soapy loofah. He lowers to his knees and lifts my legs, does my feet, and then turns my body to work his way back upward, covering my backside and my shoulder blades before turning me toward the shower. I rinse and reach for the shampoo myself, but he takes it from me. Leaning forward, he whispers, “I did that backward.”

  He winks and washes my hair before I give it a final rinse. My thoughts scatter again to how I’ve never done anything like this. Sexy shower time. Washing each other.

  “You need to sneak out,” he tells me, keeping his lips at my ear. “I told Lys I was showering, and I’d be down in a bit. Told her you were sleeping.”

  I bite my lip. I’m not certain how I feel about sneaking around in my own house, but I do as he says. Stepping out of the tub, I instantly feel a loss. Was it him? Was it me? Do I feel different after having my first orgasm at the hands of someone other than me? Was it different because it wasn’t Trent?

  It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t non-existent. I was safe with Leon, truly safe, and for a moment, I felt cherished. It happened from his tender touch, and I might never be the same.

  I smile at both the satisfaction and the sinking sensation in my stomach.

  What does this mean for Leon and me?

  Lesson 17

  Fighting words are only words.

  [Leon]

  The second she leaves the bathroom, I fall against the tile and tip back my head.

  What the fuck are you doing, man?

  She’s skittish, for one, but once I kissed her, she burst into flames, hot for me, grabbing me like she couldn’t get me close enough. But then what we were doing? All I could think about was entering her and how dangerous that would be, tainting her while wanting her all for me. She’s everything I don’t want.

  A woman on the rebound.

  I bang my head gently against the tile.

  I’m not going to be able to fill the gap for her. I’m a mechanic with two sisters suddenly in my care. I’m renting rooms from her, not even in my own place, and I’m swimming upstream without a paddle to my name.

  She is not going to want this shit.

  I don’t even want it.

  I just want peace.

  Strangely, when I was holding Tricia, a sense of tranquility settled over me. Not a current worry. Not a haunting memory. Just her under my arm. How am I going to let that go?

  After turning off the faucets with force and yanking back the floral curtain, I exit the shower. There’s not a stitch of masculine touches in this house, but I’d die a happy man surrounded in all this girlie stuff if I could have another moment with her like I did on her bed or in this shower.

  I quickly dress and get myself downstairs. We need to keep it together, stay casual and not let on that anything happened to the girls. I don’t need questions and prying eyes. I don’t know what’s next or want to question if that was a one-time thing.

  As I enter the kitchen, Lys is doing her homework at the table while Lena stands before an open refrigerator like she expects something to magically appear.

  “You’re wasting electricity, chica,” I snap at her. Lena slams the door, and at least something is put to right. She and I are at each other’s throats again.

  “What’s for dinner?” she asks, and I stare at the fridge myself. It’s become too easy as Tricia’s been doing the cooking. I know it’s been an adjustment. She went from cooking for one to cooking for four.

  “It’
s Thursday,” Tricia says, and we all turn to her. Her hair is as wet as mine, but mine dries fast. “I go out to dinner with my family tonight over at Town Tavern.”

  No one says a word. “It’s adults only. My siblings and I go up there so they can get away from their kids. We started the tradition when our dad . . . passed away a few years ago.”

  Shit.

  She smiles weakly at Lys. “So you’ll need to fend for yourselves tonight,” she says, her eyes finally landing on me but quickly looking away.

  “Did you just take a shower?” Lena asks Tricia, and Tricia reaches for her hair.

  “I did, after Leon.”

  Lena’s eyes move from Tricia to me and then back to her. Lena nods, but her lips twist into a smirk. She’s onto us, especially after the other night when I was combing my fingers through Tricia’s hair.

  “I’ll figure out dinner,” I say. She probably wants some time away from my family. I don’t blame her.

  “You’re welcome to join us,” Tricia offers to me. “Adults only.” She glances over at Lena and Lys, giving them an apologetic look.

  “Yeah, I’ll pass. I don’t want to intrude on family time.”

  “Because you’re so good at it here,” Lena interjects, and I spear her with a glance.

  “Oh. Yeah, sure. I understand,” Tricia stammers, but the drop in her voice says she doesn’t. Is she disappointed I won’t go? She already asked me, but is she only being polite after what we did?

  Knock it off, Leon.

  “I have some papers to grade and want to check email since I left early today.”

  “Riiiiight,” Lena drawls. “You had a headache.” She smiles at Tricia while nodding.

  “She did,” Lys defends. “You didn’t see her, but it looked like it hurt.”

  Lena’s brows crease. “Like Mami’s?”

  “Worse,” Lys defends, and I look up at Tricia. Was it that bad? Does this happen often?

  “It’s just a migraine. I get them once a month, but I feel better now.” She pauses and hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “So, yeah, going to correct some stuff and then head out. You guys have a good night,” she says as though she won’t see us again for days.

  As soon as she leaves the room, I pull my eyes from her ass and meet the eyes of Lys, who’s watching me almost as intensely as Lena.

  + + +

  By nine o’clock, I’m coming out of my skin. I miss my nightly beer at the Tavern and knowing Tricia’s up there and not here has me itching to get out of the house. I’m also concerned her ex might pull a surprise visit and rattle her again. I don’t need to know all he did to her to know she’s still spooked by him and for a good reason. I hate that he was on the damn porch peering into the house.

  “Just go already,” Lena snaps.

  “Go where?” I bark back. She’s sitting on the couch like I am, staring at some show I’m not even watching. An open textbook rests on her lap, and I don’t know how she can study with the commotion of the television. She isn’t studying, though. She’s pretending.

  “Go up to the Tavern to be with her,” Lena says, still watching the program.

  “It’s not like that,” I defend, and Lena twists her neck to look at me.

  “I’m not stupid. She showered after you? Good one.”

  “You showered tonight after Lys.”

  Lena scrunches her nose. “That is not what happened earlier with you and Ms. Carter, and you know it.”

  Oh God, don’t remind me she’s my sister’s teacher.

  “It’s not like that,” I repeat although I have no idea what it’s like, and I hate that my observant sister asks me the same question next.

  “What’s it like then?”

  “Lena,” I warn because I don’t know, and if I did, I would not be telling my seventeen-year-old kid sister.

  “You better not be dipping into that just because of proximity.”

  I shift so fast, Lena flinches.

  “Don’t you ever talk about her like that. You might be almost eighteen, but you are still my kid sister, and I’ll smack you if I have to.” I’d never hit a girl, but Lena can really push my limits. “I’m not dipping nothin’, and it has nothin’ to do with proximity. That woman’s letting us live here. Show some respect, chica.”

  “You respect her then, Leon. She’s good to us. Lys loves her, and I like her a lot. Don’t be messing this up. We don’t want to move again.”

  I stare at my sister. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

  “What happens when that house is fixed?” She tips her head toward the house across the drive.

  “You see anybody fixing it?”

  Lena shakes her head. There hasn’t been anybody over there since we left.

  “When are Mami and Papi going to be back?” Lena asks, and it’s the million-dollar question. I’ve had no contact with anyone. It’s time to toss my phone and get another number, but with the school needing a contact, I’ve held on to the device longer than I’d like.

  “You hear from anybody at home?” I question my sister, and she shakes her head, her hair falling around her face. “Lena, you better not lie to me.”

  Her head snaps up, and she glares at me. “No, Leon. Your secret hideaway is still safe with us. No one knows where we’re at.” I hate when my sister falls into street slang while giving me sass.

  “Keep it that way,” I warn. “How are you doing with your college applications?”

  “I didn’t apply anywhere yet. I need Papi’s credit card.”

  Shit.

  “Maybe I can get one of those temporary cards. The ones you put money on, so you can apply,” I suggest, and Lena stares at me like I have two heads.

  “You’d do that?” The hesitation in her voice tells me my sister does not trust me, and I’m reminded she has good reason to feel that way. We hardly know one another. Our shared blood is our only real connection.

  “I’d do anything for you, Magdalena. Honest.” I hold her gaze as I speak her full name, hoping to reinforce the seriousness of what I’m saying. I do not want my sisters on the same path that Israel and I traveled—not mine because I got locked up, and especially not Israel’s, because he’s dead.

  Recalling my brother stabs at my heart, and I rub at my chest a second.

  “Yeah, that’d be cool if you got one of those cards. I could apply to a few places then.” She bites her lip, and I don’t know if she’s fighting a joyful smile or still doubting me. “Now, really, go up to the bar. You’re annoying me.”

  “I don’t want you leaving Lys,” I tell her. “Tricia didn’t like that between the two of us, there were times Lys was alone.”

  Lena’s face wrinkles. “She’s fourteen. She can be by herself.”

  “She can,” I admit. “But she’s struggling as I suspect you are, and it isn’t good to be alone in a strange house with new surroundings.” My thoughts quickly flip to Trent again. He lays a hand on my sisters, and he’s dead.

  “Whatever,” Lena says. “I’m tired. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I’ve noticed she hasn’t gone out as much since we moved into Tricia’s place, and I chalk it up to the influence of this new woman in our lives. I just hope she doesn’t rub off too much or none of us will survive without her.

  + + +

  When I get to the bar, the family party is in full swing, complete with laughter and smiles. I feel like an intruder, which is just what I told Tricia I didn’t want to do. But the second she sees me, her beaming smile lights up her face—fuck—and I just feel like a new man. Who doesn’t want a woman to smile at him like that?

  As I near the table, Jess calls out my name, and I’m relieved as I see Tricia fighting with herself. Does she come to me? Do I go to her? Jess moves over a bit and drags another chair to the table.

  “Leon, meet my girl. This is Emily.”

  “Emily Post of Chicago,” Tom bellows, and I miss the joke as the rest of them laugh.

  “Nice to meet you, Leon. I’ve heard a bi
t about you.” Emily’s a pretty blonde with fresh blue eyes. Her posture says classy while her expression reads soft.

  “That could be . . . interesting,” I tease, looking from Jess to Tricia and wondering who spoke about me.

  “It’s all good. I hear you’re another Chicago native,” she remarks, and for a second, I still. Then I take in her clothes and know this woman has never been anywhere near where I grew up. “Where did you live?”

  Crap.

  “West side,” I say, keeping it vague, and her head tips. “What about you?”

  “Gold coast.”

  I whistle, and my shoulders sag in relief. Yep, nowhere near where I lived.

  “I went to college in the city. How about you?” Emily asks, and I know she’s only being friendly. Tricia’s hand comes to my thigh, and she answers for me.

  “Leon’s really good with cars. He works at Dixon’s.”

  “Oh.” Emily sits up straighter. “I need to bring my car in for a tune-up and new tires.”

  Without looking at Tricia, I cover her hand and squeeze it in gratitude, but it hits me. Tricia’s never going to want to tell them how I learned the trade skill I have or where I’ve spent the past few years because of my “schooling.”

  I fall back in my seat, keeping quiet as this family chatters and teases one another. Tom is the ringleader and the jokester, keeping it light among them. His wife, Karyn, sits next to him. Their sister Pam is a petite blonde who keeps her attention on the man next to her. His name is Ethan, and he’s somehow related to the rest of them. Then there’s Jess and Emily, who can’t stop touching each other. Then again, Tricia’s hand has not left my thigh, and my hand has not uncovered hers. The time passes, and I’m feeling good, having one more beer than I should on a work night, and then the door flies open.

  Trent fucking Walker.

  We don’t need a scene, but I’m prepared to make one if he comes near us. He hasn’t been back to Tricia’s house, or at least, not that I’m aware of, since the night Tricia screamed.