Once we were both cleaned up, he dressed me in more new clothes. A beautiful light lavender t-shirt with matching gym pants then he carried me into our bedroom, laying me down gently and covering me up, tucking me in. He brought me a glass of water and my pain medicine, which I took immediately as I was starting to hurt. It didn’t take long for my eyes to grow heavy as the drugs made me sluggish and soon I drifted off.
My head is foggy when I open my eyes. I must be dreaming. The smell of lilacs filling me fully. What is going on? I wince as I push myself up, moving back against the headboard as my eyes take in all the beautiful flower arrangements of lilacs all over the room. Oh, my! Throwing the covers off me, I’m about to get up when the door opens. Standing there is my sexy man in the most handsome black suit, tie and a small lilac in his lapel. Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Walking slowly towards me, he stops along the way picking a lilac from one of the vases and hands it to me while pressing his lips against mine. I can barely catch my breath as he sits next to me. Bringing the flower up to my nose, I get the sweetest aroma as I breathe in its wonderfulness.
Turning my head, my smile frozen on my face, I lean in and kiss his soft lips then move back to take him in. “What’s all this for? You’re so good and sweet to me.”
The grin on his face makes him even sexier, if that’s even possible. “Well, you see. A little birdie told me it was someone’s nineteenth birthday tomorrow so I wanted to do something special now leading up to their day.” Oh, my God! I’d forgotten what day it was with all the turmoil that has been my life lately. My hands cover my mouth as I gasp when he slides off the side of the bed, bending down on one knee and pulling a small jewelry box from his suit pocket. When he opens the lid the sparkles shining from around a gold band, intricate, detailed scrolls outlining round diamonds, are brilliant as the sun coming in from the window hits them. “Sweetheart, I knew you were mine the moment my eyes fell upon your beauty, the moment you first spoke, the moment your eyes sparkled with lust then love when looking into mine and the moment I felt your burning desire.” Tears begin as he places the ring on a gold chain, his hands moving around the back of my neck as he fastens it, then holds the ring now hanging between his fingers. “I know you can’t wear it quite yet….” His smile is so sad. “But you will be able to soon enough. This is a promise ring. I promise to love you, to cherish you, to take care of your every want and need and to keep your heart safe until I take my last breath. Will you promise me the same?” I’m not sure I can speak. My heart is beating so fast I feel like it’s in my throat, and I may swallow it. His smile fades. His head lowering as he starts to stand.
Quickly, I place my hands on his shoulder. His head snaps up, and I can see the hope in his eyes. “I….” I swallow hard, my eyes softening as I try to speak clearly. “I promise to love you, to cherish you, to take care of all your wants, needs and desires and to keep your heart safe until my last breath. I love you so much.” As fast as my body allows, I throw myself into his arms, he stands and lifts me, sitting on the bed with me in his lap as our mouths kiss hungrily.
We lay in each other’s arms the rest of that day, smelling the lilac aroma infiltrating the room and making plans for our future together. We talked about where to put all my things throughout the house, having children and decorating one of the spare bedrooms into a nursery. He and I agreed that we both wanted a house full of kids and want to start trying as soon as I’m healed. My heart swelled with anticipation of becoming a mother. I put my foot down on him wanting me to quit work and stay home, but I compromised and said I would consider it once I’m pregnant. Secretly, once our first baby is born, I plan on being a stay at home mother. Little does he know that chances are huge we could have twins since they run in my family.
Never in my life did I ever dream I would find my love by being a nurse’s aide for a dying woman, bedridden in her house, and her wishes of happiness for her husband, who soon would be grieving her death. Never did I think I would fall in love with a man almost more than twice my age, but whose body, mind and soul are that of boys my age. Never did I ever feel the burning desire that I’ve only read about in romance novels of true happiness, the fairy tale of a happily ever after and the knight in shining armor that saved me from a life unknown. I wouldn’t trade it for the world, and I thank God for Parker Wright and fate.
The End
About the Author
Vicki Green grew up in Overland Park, Kansas and currently resides in Olathe, Kansas. Along with her husband and two teenage boys, she shares her home with her cocker spaniel’s Shadow and Mocha. She has been working full time at the same Company for 35 years. Her life has been filled with the most loving and caring parents, who are both gone now but are still in her heart and mind daily.
Vicki enjoys reading Romance books which is what inspired her to begin writing this book. She has always admired Author’s dedication and hard work. She had a dream that played out for over a year, came home one day after work and decided to put it on a word document to see how it read and that became ‘My Savior Forever’, the beginning of her Forever Series.
Website
http://www.vickigreenauthor.com/
Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/VickiGreenAuthor
Twitter: @rileyks3
Goodreads Author:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7112966.Vicki_Green
Author page on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Vicki-Green/e/B00F2ZA9L8
Tempted
By
Roxy Queen
Beverly and I didn’t keep secrets from one another. Not when her father left her mother for his secretary. His male secretary. Or in high school when I cheated on my final exam in math, so I’d graduate with my class. Or when I’d spent the final semester skipping school to fuck Michael Richmond in the backseat of his 1989 Honda Accord, and she told me she saw Cathy Hufford kissing him under the bleachers during prom. I confessed that I’d peeked at her diary in the fourth grade during a sleepover.
We shared everything. Until this summer. That’s when our lifelong running streak of truth and confidence came to an end. Our almost forty-year-old friendship.
Was it worth it?
I think so.
~*~*~*~
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” Bev says, with a mixed expression of relief and worry on her face.
“You don’t even have to thank me. Ever.” I take the hand of my best friend and say, “Plus, Tyson’s doing me a favor. We’re more than even.”
We both turn to see Beverly’s nineteen-year-old son, Tyson, carrying a battered duffle bag up the back stairs to the guest house.
“Just make sure he doesn’t mooch too much,” she says. “And if you can remind him to get a haircut at least once this summer I’ll buy you a bottle of Cuervo next time I come up.”
She says the last part loud enough for Tyson to hear, and he rolls his blue eyes. They’re a match to hers. He also inherited his mother’s dark brown hair, except for his curls at the nape of his neck. His recently developed broad shoulders and razor-sharp jaw came from his father, who was quite the catch back in our school days.
I hold Tyson’s attention and wink. “I think he looks handsome. Leave him alone.”
“Thanks Avery,” he calls, before disappearing inside the apartment.
“You sure you want to get rid of him all summer?” I ask, still wary about this situation.
“Oh no, you’re not backing out of this now,” she says. “We made a deal. It’s been five years, and you still haven’t cleaned out that mess. You promised me when you moved in you’d deal with it. Plus, Tyson’s got no other summer options.”
“That’s unlikely.” I laugh. “Is he still dating that girl? What’s her name? Lacy?”
“No. They broke up around Christmas,” she says, and a flicker of worry crosses her face. “There have been a couple girls around, but no one serious as far as I can tell.”
“That won’t l
ast once he gets to school in the fall. You’ve raised one handsome boy, Bev.”
“Yeah, that seems to be the consensus,” she says with a worried sigh. “Good genes, I suppose.”
“He’s pretty, like his mother. Remember how much trouble that got you in?”
“Don’t remind me.”
I look up at the mess I’ve been avoiding for years and know that Bev is right. I’ve got to clean this up and move on with my life. With Tyson devoting his summer to the project, it’s now or never.
~*~*~*~
After dinner, Tyson and his mother trail behind me on the way to the guest house. We reach the doorway, and I say, “I’d really like to rent it out next summer. You know, to help cover the costs a little.”
When my parents died, they hadn’t had time to make any arrangements, so when I inherited the place I discovered they’d turned the property into some sort of storage room. It’s been sitting here for the last five years getting worse.
I swing open the door to reveal the run-down cottage. I’d had the bare bones set up for Tyson, which consists of a futon bed, an arm chair, and a TV console in the main room. A tiny, non-useable kitchen sits off to the left, and a semi-functional bathroom is next to that.
“There’s a bedroom behind that door, but it’s got to be cleaned out. Needless to say, my parents were packrats. Once that room is empty, you’re welcome to spread out a little.
“So what all do you want Tyson to do?” Bev asks while eyeing the mess. “Overwhelming is an understatement.”
“Toss the trash and clean and paint the rooms. Help me figure out what to do with the kitchen and bathroom.” I rub my toe against the dingy carpet. “I think there are hardwoods under here, so maybe refinish those.”
Beverly looks at her son. “You sure you can handle this?”
He gives her an annoyed look, but it’s brief. They have a good relationship most the time, but he’s still a kid. I’m thankful he’s willing to do this for me.
“Yeah, I think I can manage,” he says.
“Tyson and I will figure this out together. I’m sure we’ll learn a lot before the summer is over.”
Bev casts another worried look around the room then directs it at me. Why would she worry about him? She’s a great mother. I’m the one who’s a train wreck.
~*~*~*~
Later, when we’re alone, she says, “This is going to be tough for you. Going through all those memories, but redoing the guest house will be great. I think renting it out is a nice idea. Maybe we’ll be your first guests.”
“Definitely.” I smile. “They passed so quickly. I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye and somehow all that stuff just became an obstacle. I know it’s time.”
“Good. I’m proud of you.”
“Plus, I’ve got that handsome, strong young man up there to help me. Of course, once the local girls get their eyes on him, I’m screwed.”
“God, do not let that even happen. Half the reason I want him up here is to get away from those distractions.” She takes a sip of her wine and lowers her voice. “I didn’t say anything before, but he got into a bit of trouble at the end of term.”
“What?” I lean forward. “What did he do?”
“Like you said, he’s handsome, and unfortunately, he knows it. I found three empty boxes of condoms in his dresser drawer.”
I snort. “Dumb hiding place.”
“Right? When I asked who the girl was, he gave me one name. Then four others. He’s been whoring around town all spring, ever since he broke up with Lacy.”
“Oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right. He’s thinking with his little head. Mike almost kicked his ass. He’s been grounded since spring break. We only let him out for some graduation stuff. I think he’s cooled off a little, but yeah, isolation up here in the woods may be the best thing to happen to him.”
“Okay, wow. I didn’t know all that was going on.”
“I know, and I’m sorry if this seems like too much to take on. I’m just a little desperate.”
“Manual labor is an excellent way to get out that pent-up energy.” I take a sip of my wine. “I’m happy to have him here. Sounds like we both need to get ourselves straightened out. I need to get rid of the past, and he needs to focus on the future.”
“I think you two may be good for one another.”
“I’ve tried therapy, self-help, running, yoga, and meditating. Figures that what I’d really need is a nineteen-year-old to fix me.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters, before turning serious. “I’m just so worried about him, but I’m so exhausted. I feel like I’ve failed with him when it comes to respecting women.”
I take her hand. “That’s not true. You know I’m not a prude. Sex is awesome, but yeah, he shouldn’t treat girls like crap. I’m thinking you guys need some time away from one another. Give me three months, ten gallons of paint, a floor sander, and several well-placed lectures on feminism, and he’ll be on the right path.”
“Don’t let me down, sister,” she says then holds her glass out in a toast. We clink.
“Never have, never will.”
~*~*~*~
Bev leaves early the next morning, driving her battered minivan down the gravel mountain road. It’s late May and many of the summer houses are still empty. My classes at the university ended a week ago, and I’ve taken the summer off to get this house under control. Finally.
I pour myself a cup of coffee and grab a book before I settle on the porch in a rocking chair. It’s a morning ritual I’ve come to enjoy, especially up here. The lake is smallish, carved into the granite hills of western North Carolina. The houses have all been there for half-a-century. My parents bought theirs in the 1970’s, when I was just a kid.
I’m midway through my book when I hear footsteps on the trail. It’s a steep climb, and I spot Tyson’s head as he walks down the weathered planks of the dock toward the water. A blue and white striped towel hangs over his pale shoulder. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I lean over a bit to watch him.
I’d planned on giving him an hour more to sleep in. Instead, Here he was, already up and about when the sun has barely lifted over the trees and there’s still a mountain chill in the air. He looks small from my perch on the hill, but I can see him dip a toe in the water. In a fast motion, he strips off his shirt, revealing a surprisingly well-defined physique, and I catch myself admiring his body before he dives in.
The splash echoes off the quiet lake before Tyson swims across the smooth water toward the other side. It’s not too far, maybe two or three lengths of a swimming pool, but I’m surprised to see how effortless he makes it appear. The gift of being young with endless stamina, I guess.
~*~*~*~
I’m focused on my book when I hear his footsteps. I stand and call out, “Tyson, come in the house, and I’ll show you the kitchen.”
He nods and moments later I hear the back screen door’s rusty coiled spring stretch open and slam shut. He appears, damp-haired and shirtless, in the kitchen doorway with a towel wrapped around his hips. “Did you have a nice swim?”
“Yeah, the water’s a little cool, but it woke me up.” He laughs.
“I can’t get over how much you’ve grown,” I blurt as I drag my attention away from his chest. He smiles confidently. Good for him, because I’ve never felt more awkward. I don’t have much experience being around teenage boys. At least not in a casual setting. My students are intimidated by me, and I’m ignorant to video games and popular music. I’m sure I look like an obstacle put in place by his mother to keep him out of trouble.
To break the awkwardness, I show him around the pantry and cabinets. “Until the guest house kitchen is fixed, you can make whatever you want down here. I’m not big on formal meals, so you’ll have to forage some, but maybe you’ll motivate me.”
“Thanks,” he says as he goes for the refrigerator. He pulls out the milk and a box of cereal. I hand him a bowl from the cabinet shelf. He pours i
n half the box before submerging it in milk. After inserting a heaping spoonful into his mouth, he says, “What’s first today?” Milk dribbles down his chin, and he wipes it with the edge of his towel.
“I guess it’s the dirty work. Cleaning out that back room. We’ll have to take it all to the dump, eventually.”
“Okay, let me get dressed,” he says then tilts his empty bowl to his mouth.
“Take your time. I need to change also.”
He seems to take in the sloppy plaid sleep pants and grungy t-shirt from a half-marathon I ran several years ago. Between the house and my outfit, he probably thinks I’m a slob. Maybe I am.
“Okay, so maybe thirty minutes? Up at the guest house?”
He nods, interested only in pouring a second bowl of cereal. I leave him in the kitchen. I can see how this kid got in so much trouble. He’s confident, polite, and very attractive. Girls probably flock to him like moths to a flame. His mother picked a good place to stash him. There’s not much going on up here but families and quiet locals. I open my closet and search for something to wear, trying to prepare myself for the project I’ve been avoiding for all these years. Delving into history isn’t something I do for fun. I like everything tidy and boxed up. Which is why I’m doing this. It’s time to deal with the mess my parents left behind.
I find an old pair of jeans and another ratty t-shirt to work in and ready myself for a long day of work.
~*~*~*~
“What is all this stuff?” Tyson asks.
“My parents bought this house right before I was born. They had dreams of filling it each summer with a dozen kids. Well, they had two. Me and my brother, Billy. We came up here with my mother for weeks at a time. Sometimes the whole summer break. My father came from Charlotte on the weekends. Billy moved to California and never came back. When they died, this place was left to me.”
“But you live in Asheville, right?” he asks as he drags a cardboard box from the room.
Forbidden Fruit Vol 2 Page 20
