Bohemian Law (Traveler Book 1)

by Misty Walker

  “No, it’s okay.” I tip her chin up to look at me. “I know I’m a… challenging person to get along with. It’s my issues, not yours.”

  “Yeah, but this is your house and you’ve been so amazing to let me stay.”

  “Listen to me. I want you here.” I peck her lips. “You just be you and I’ll just be me… following you around and picking up after you.” We both let out a little laugh and I stand up, pulling her up to her feet with me. “Go do what you need to do, then we can head out and do some shopping to make things more comfortable for you here. Your clothes are dry. I’ll set them on the bed for when you’re done.”

  She nods and goes to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her softly. I strip the bed sheets. She didn’t sleep in here all night, but she still was in the bed, therefore, I need to wash the sheets. I put them in the washer and grab Thea’s clothes from the dryer. I put new sheets on the bed and lay Thea’s folded clothes on the comforter.

  After a day of shopping, we return home. Thea heads to my bedroom to change into one of the comfy outfits we picked up today. She fought me the whole way, but I was able to purchase her a few outfits and some bath products she’ll need while she stays with me. She insisted she could pay on her own, but I don’t know how much money she has and whatever she has needs to last. Plus, I have a lot of money and rarely the opportunity to spend it on someone.

  We didn’t talk about what her plans are for the future or how we will try to get her back in the good graces of her family. I think Thea needed an emotional break and spending the day doing mundane tasks was just what she needed to forget.

  I pull a few things out to make for dinner and start chopping vegetables. When the chicken is baking and vegetables are roasting, I hear the bedroom door open. I look up and see Thea. Her hair is damp and pulled over one of her shoulders. She has on a skimpy black tank top and matching sleep shorts. My jaw drops.

  “You’re beautiful,” I say dumbly. She blushes but doesn’t look away. She just walks toward me, her hips swaying, and a barely perceptible bounce in her breasts. I see it, though. I salivate over that movement.

  Sex has always been a simple release for me. An itch to scratch. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a giving lover and always make sure my partner gets off before I do. I just never felt a carnal need to possess until her. Until Thea. The need to consume her is overwhelming and holding out feels insurmountable. It doesn’t help she’s always teasing me, always pushing boundaries, always increasing my desire. She’s trouble and for the first time in my life, I’m holding out my arms and saying, “Bring it on.”

  “It’s comfy.” She downplays, sitting down on a stool. I stalk over to her, pulling her legs open and moving into the space I created. She locks her ankles around my waist. My hands rub up and down the smooth skin of her naked thighs. I bring my nose to her neck and inhale. She no longer smells like me, but the amber and clove that has replaced it is much more suited to her personality. “Do I smell good?”

  “You smell intoxicating.” I place open-mouthed kisses on her neck, sucking on her skin lightly. Not enough to leave a mark, although the thought of seeing her dark skin marred with love bites does something to me. Her breath hitches and her hands move to my hips.

  “That feels so good,” she says breathily. I move my lips to hers and kiss her. Our tongues make love, the nerve endings sending sparks straight to my dick. My jeans get tight and uncomfortable. I’m so lost in this woman when the buzzer blares to tell me dinner is done, I almost ignore it and take Thea to bed and eat her instead, but I regain control and step away, breaking the kiss.

  I turn my back to her and adjust myself. My dick hates me with all of this foreplay and no relief. Even taking care of myself in the shower this morning wasn’t enough to satisfy me. Distraction is the name of this game, so I pull dinner from the oven while Thea sets my small dining table.

  “Where’s your family?” she asks over dinner.

  “Dead,” I tell her. She drops her fork to her plate.

  “All of them?” She places her hand on mine. I know she’s trying to soothe me, but it’s unnecessary. I’ve come to terms with their deaths long ago.

  “Yes.” I take a bite of my dinner.

  “How did they die?”

  “My mom and dad had me when they were older. Mom was forty-eight and Dad was fifty when I was born. I wasn’t a planned baby and I’m not so sure I was even a wanted baby. Both of my parents were university professors and heavily involved in their departments, so a series of nannies mostly raised me,” I explain.

  “That’s so sad. I would hate not to have brothers and sisters or extended family. It must have been lonely.” Her fingers are rubbing circles on my hand, but I pull it away. I don’t need pity.

  “I didn’t know any different. I was enrolled in the best schools and was given a life of privilege. I didn’t want for anything.” I pick up my plate and take it to the kitchen, done with this conversation.

  “But did you have friends? Cousins? Grandparents?” She turns around in her seat so she can see me.

  “I had a few classmates I played lacrosse with through high school and again in college. I don’t know if they were friends, but we were friendly. My grandparents on both sides died when I was young and they were all only children, so there is no one from my lineage left except me.” I scrape my plate and begin washing dishes.

  “What about girlfriends?” She brings her own plate to the kitchen and scrapes it into the trash.

  “What is this about? Why all the questions?”

  “I just started thinking. I know little about you. I want to know everything.” She shrugs.

  “I’ve had a few girlfriends. My last girlfriend I had proposed to. You probably remember me saying she left me the night I met you.” I don’t want to be talking about this. It’s in the past.

  “That’s right. I remember. So you’re probably still mourning the loss of that relationship.” She grows quiet. I set the plate I was washing down and turn the water off, then face her.

  “I’m not mourning anything, Thea. Chloe and I were more of an arrangement. I didn’t want to spend my life alone, and she liked my money and status. It was as simple as that.” I kiss her sweet lips, just once. She looks so sad and I can’t take it. I don’t know if I can help her understand what she has done for my life, but I try. “Before you came barreling into my life, I was pretty robotic. I lived with unemotional parents and was raised by people who were paid to spend time with me. The night I saw you, something in me changed. You were so full of life and so free and uninhibited. I’ve never met anyone like you. You may drive me a little crazy, but you pull me out of my comfort zone, and I needed that. I didn’t know I needed it, but I did. You did all that, just by existing.”

  Her smile turns big, and she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling my face to hers. “I’ve never met anyone like you, either. I had just come to terms I would marry someone I don’t love, but that night, you saw me. Not a woman who will cook and clean for you, have your babies. You saw the real me,” she says against my mouth and then places a gentle kiss on my lips. “I admit, at first I just wanted to shock you because I could tell you were uptight—”

  “I’m not uptight,” I argue. Her eyebrows rise. “Okay, I’m a little uptight.”

  “You’re a lot uptight.” She smiles, just inches from my face. A warmth builds in my chest from the intimacy. “But it’s okay, because even after I pulled my stunts, you were there for me. My family’s love and acceptance have conditions, but you don’t. I don’t have to do what you say in order for you to care about me. I’ve never had that.”

  I bring my lips to hers and we kiss for a long moment before I pull away. “Why don’t you go relax? I’ll finish up the dishes and we can watch a movie or something.”

  “I can help.” She picks up the scrub brush and turns to the sink. I grab her by the waist and turn her back to me.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” I take the scrub brush f
rom her hands. “Get out of here.” I swat her ass on her way out, making her giggle.

  I wake up Monday morning all alone. Spending the weekend with Law gave me the best two days I’ve ever had. More than once he asked if he should take me home to talk to my parents, but I denied him each time. Thinking about why I left in the first place fills me with so much anger and resentment, it’s not smart for me to talk to them yet.

  I sit up in Law’s bed and stretch, smiling at the Law sized imprint in the sheets next to me. I finally convinced him to sleep in bed with me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t tempt him to take me, but he refused. I understand why he wants me to handle my shit with my family first, but being with him just feels so good, I want to wrap myself in that warmth and never let it go. Now he’s at work and I’m left to my own devices.

  I make the bed and decide to lie to Law and tell him I washed the sheets before making it. I’m learning more of his strange ways and most of the time I just let him do his thing, but sometimes his requests are so bizarre, I have to push back. Like washing the sheets every day. Who does that?

  I shower and dress in one of the sundresses Law bought me. When I left my family, my purse was all I had with me. Five thousand dollars. That’s all I have to my name. I’m not sure what I’ll do, but I know it’s enough money to get a small apartment and to live off of for a short time. I have no skills. I’ve never had a job. Hell, I don’t even have an ID. All of this is just too daunting for me to figure out, so I push it away.

  Law owns a three-bedroom ranch style home in a planned community, only I doubt any of the other houses around here have the upgrades he has. I enter the kitchen and look around. Marble floors throughout like it’s a fuckin’ casino, granite kitchen counters, black stainless steel appliances with computers in them, it’s all too much for me. Everything sparkles and there is not a speck of dust to be found.

  I’ve never seen the other rooms, so I go exploring. On the other side of the living room is a hallway I’m assuming will take me to the rest of the house. The first door I open is a home gym. The floor is covered in a black rubber material. A large weight station is in the center, a TV mounted in the corner, and the windows have black-out curtains on them, making the temperature in here much colder than the rest of the house. I close the door.

  The next door is a bathroom. It has the same fixtures as the master bath. Much like the rest of the house, it’s pristine and looks unused. I step out and close the door. I come across a hallway closet that’s organized with rows and rows of cleaning supplies. He probably has enough in here to last the rest of his life. However, knowing Law, maybe only a few months.

  The last door I open is a home office. There’s a large L-shaped sit stand desk that’s ultra-modern and sleek. A bookcase lines the back wall and it’s full of books I can’t even read the titles of. It makes me feel stupid and worthless. What is Law doing with someone like me who can’t even read or write? I wonder if I’m just a pet project for him.

  I turn to leave, but a small photo album catches my eye. I walk over to the small sitting area across from the bookshelf. There are two small leather chairs with a small round table in between. I sit down on one of the chairs and open the book. The first page is a picture of an older man and woman with what I’m assuming is baby Law. The man and woman stand proudly behind a high-back chair where the baby is sitting upright. None of them are smiling, not even the baby. He’s dressed in a tiny, adorable suit with a bowtie, one finger in his mouth that pulls at his bottom lip, revealing two tiny teeth on the bottom. He’s so cute with chubby cheeks and big brown eyes.

  I turn the page and there’s the exact same picture, but I’m assuming about a year later. Same pose. The man and woman, both with graying hair and wrinkles around their eyes and mouths. They’re both dressed impeccably, not a wrinkle in their clothing, standing behind the same chair, baby Law sitting up straight. His hands are in his lap and his face is straight and serious.

  Every page I turn is the same picture, but a year later. It’s kind of creepy. His mom and dad have the same serious expression, but with every page I turn, I see them aging. By the time I get to the last page, Law is sitting on the chair with a cap and gown on. It’s his college graduation picture. I can tell by the UNLV embossed sash. His parents are trying to stand up straight, but over the years they have grown old and frail. They don’t wear the smile of parents who are proud of their son for all his accomplishments, they just have that same flat expression from page one.

  I close the book and try to return it to the exact position it was in, knowing Law could tell if I moved it. It would help if there was a dust line from where it had been placed, but this is Law’s house. There is no dust.

  I leave the room and go back to the kitchen. I make a cup of coffee, loading it with cream and sugar before sitting at the island. My mind is hyper focused on those pictures I just saw. It’s just so sad to me. I have photo albums too, but mine are full of my brothers and sisters all smiling and having fun. Poor Law has never known that kind of happiness.

  I decide I’ll do something nice for him. He’s helped me so much the last few days, I should return the favor. Maybe I can make him a nice dinner since he’s cooked for me every night I’ve been here.

  Grabbing my purse and putting on my shoes, I head out to get ingredients. I’ll make Mom’s famous spaghetti pie. It’s easy and delicious.

  “Something smells good!” Law calls out, taking his shoes off.

  “I cooked.” I beam, taking the spaghetti pie out of the oven and setting it down on a hot pad. Law comes up behind me and places a kiss right below my ear, his arms wrapping around me. I lean back into him. The butterflies I’ve been missing all day have now returned.

  “I see that. Can’t wait to try it.” He steps back, removes his suit coat, and untucks his button-down, giving me a peak of his defined abs. “Do I have time to change?”

  “Sure, it should probably cool down a little, anyway.” Law leans in and kisses me chastely before sauntering to the bedroom. I admire the view of his tight ass in his slacks until he disappears from view.

  I reach down plates, gather silverware, and set the table. By the time I have water glasses filled and our dinner plated, Law has returned.

  “What is this?” He holds a fork of spaghetti noodles and vegetables, taking a sniff.

  “It’s spaghetti pie. My mom makes it all the time, and it’s a family favorite.” I shovel a bite in my mouth. It tastes like home and makes me miss all my people.

  Law hesitantly takes a bite, and his brows lift. “This is fantastic!” he compliments, and I thank him.

  “Did I have all these ingredients to make this?” he asks over another large forkful.

  “No, I went out today. I wanted to do something nice for you after all you’ve done for me.” I straighten my spine.

  “Thea,” he says, putting his fork down. “I don’t want you to feel you owe me anything. I wanted you in my life before you even broke into it.”

  I reach over and set my hand on his. “I know and I wanted that too. It’s just if this had happened before I met you—”

  “You would have figured it out.” Law stops my destructive speculation. “If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you are resilient. You would’ve been okay, even without me.”

  “Maybe so, but it would’ve been a lot harder. Not just because you’ve given me somewhere to stay, but also because you’ve been here for me. Emotionally, I mean. Not having my family, my support system, it’s hard, but you listen to me and encourage me.” I lean toward Law and he meets me halfway for a kiss. When I break away, I place a hand on his slightly stubbly cheek. “I’m just thankful for you.”

  “Don’t mention it, Trouble. I’m glad we found each other.” He rests his forehead against mine for a second. When he pulls away, he gathers our plates and forks and takes them to the sink. “Where did you go shopping at, anyway? I hope you didn’t have to walk far in this heat.”

  “
I took the bus.” I gather our water glasses and napkins. “I went to a few places. Not every store had what I needed.”

  “What did you need that a regular grocery store didn’t have?” He stops washing dishes and looks at me. I’ve been avoiding this conversation, hoping it wouldn’t come up. I know how he feels about my shopping habits and I’m sure he’ll freak out.

  I brace myself on the counter with both hands. “Well, I went to Whole Foods and found the pasta and some parsley. Then I went across the street to a restaurant, I forget what it’s called—”

  “La Fromage?” he suggests.

  “Yeah, there. They had the ricotta and parmesan,” I explain.

  “You went to a restaurant for ingredients? Didn’t Whole Foods have cheese? Does La Formage even sell ingredients like that?” His face pinches in question.

  “Kind of,” I say and quickly continue. “And you had the milk, bacon, frozen peas, and eggs already.”

  “I still don’t understand why you just didn’t get everything at the grocery store.”

  I look down, wondering how long it will take him to figure this out. I peek up at him through my lashes, and his expression changes. He shifts, looks up at the ceiling, shifts again, looks down at the leftover dinner, goes to the cupboard where the trash bin in, and pulls it out. “Where are the grocery bags?”

  “I didn’t have any,” I whisper.

  “Thea, where did this food come from?” He places his hands on his hips and bends over at the waist slightly, as if he’ll be sick.

  “I told you, Whole Foods and La—” I get cut off. Again.

  “From inside the store? Like you went inside, got the things off the shelf, and paid for them?” He’s little green and looks exasperated.

  “I didn’t have to. They had just thrown out—” I jump when he cuts me off this time.

  “Please tell me you didn’t get these things out of the trash. Please.” His voice is louder now and I can’t bear to make eye contact.