Rock Me Gently

by HK Carlton

  * * * *

  Lainey let herself into the house and smelled the undeniable signs that Jilly was cooking. Her little girl loved to cook and Lainey was thankful for it. Especially recently, coming home so late and tired she couldn’t be bothered to cook just for the two of them. Luckily Jilly didn’t see it that way. She liked to cook for her mom.

  “I guess I should have called ahead,” Lainey said holding up the fast food bags that she’d stopped and picked up on the way home from interviews.

  “Oops, or I should have texted you that I had it covered,” Jilly said, coming out from behind the counter and taking the bag. She looked into it. “No problem. I’ll just take this for lunch at school tomorrow,” she said, cheerfully tossing the bag on the counter.

  Lainey watched her daughter. Maybe Mr Westlake was right—perhaps things were looking up. Jill did seem a little more like her old self.

  “So, how’d my conferences go?” she asked, stirring what smelled like soup or stew.

  “Good, for the most part.”

  “Liar.”

  “Well, they are concerned, I guess, but we knew that, right?”

  “Yeah. I’m getting it back together, Mom.”

  “I know, Jilly. I never expected anything less. You know how to handle yourself. You always have.” Lainey stepped out of her shoes and sighed in relief.

  “Thanks, Mama. Some parents would freak at the way I’ve let things slide. But not you.”

  “Is that a good thing, Jilly? Some of the teachers think I should be cracking the whip.”

  “Who? Mr O’Donnell and Miss Kelly?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “Because they ride everyone’s ass. They are classic over-achievers themselves. They don’t understand a kid that just ‘gets by’.”

  “But I got some encouraging remarks from your history teacher.”

  “Ahh, the beautiful Mr Westlake. And what did you think of him, Mother dear?” Jilly rounded on her mom with a big knowing smile.

  “What do you mean what did I think?” Lainey asked, innocently, as if she hadn’t even noticed how out of this world gorgeous the man was. Why hadn’t any of her teachers ever looked like him? She might have stayed in school longer.

  “Oh, come on, Mom. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to appreciate a good-looking man. Dad’s not worth all that. You’re just depriving yourself.”

  “Yeah, well, attractive men aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” she said, thinking of her ex. Thad had been beautiful too. That was the problem. Everyone found him that way, and he just ate it up.

  “Mr Westlake is not like Dad. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Your dad was a nice guy too until he got rich and famous and started to believe his own hype.”

  Jill’s face turned to stone as it always did when they discussed her father. “Yeah, yeah, football ruined him, I know.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand.

  Jill ladled some stew into a bowl and set it in front of her mother, then sat down with her own bowl.

  “Mmm, this is good, Jilly,” Lainey complimented while blowing on the hot broth. “You should really think about going to cooking school.”

  “I have actually thought about that. And if Dad gets traded to the Jets or the Giants, like he wants, I could live with him while I attend one of the culinary schools in New York.”

  The familiar red rage settled over Lainey at the thought of Jill living with Thad. She hated it when she went to visit him. But she tried her best not to let it show.

  Deciding to swallow her anger for once, she turned the subject back to the striking history teacher.

  “So, you could have warned me that he was tall, dark and all smoldering hotness, ya know.”

  “Who?” Jill asked, feigning ignorance.

  “Jason Westlake.”

  “Oh, it’s Jason, is it?” Her daughter’s fair brow lifted.

  “Yes. It. Is,” she punctuated slowly and sighed as she conjured up his smoky dark eyes and lopsided grin. He filled out a suit like no teacher she’d ever seen. And he made her feel things that she thought she’d stomped out and killed long ago. He scared her.

  Jill laughed and it sounded good to hear. “I know, right? He is hot. All the girls think so. And their moms, too. And even a couple of the dads.”

  “I’ve no doubt. He’s quite lovely. And he, for one, thinks you’re going to be just fine too.”

  “I will be, Mama, don’t worry. You should maybe think about getting your life back too. Don’t you think? Maybe you should invite Mr Tall, Dark and Smoldering Hotness to dinner.”

  Lainey’s gaze widened at the suggestion.

  Jilly rushed on. “Or less pressure, just ask him out for coffee,” she softened.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’ll do,” Lainey answered, acerbically.

  “You can’t blame every handsome man on earth for what Dad did to you. They’re not all that way,” Jilly protested.

  “Yes, of course, you’re right. I will get my life back. In my own time. I’m just not ready yet.” Lainey turned and took her bowl to the counter, only half eaten.

  Coming from behind, Jill hugged her shoulders, watching their reflections through the window. “I love you, Mama. You know that. I just hate to see you alone and so sad all the time. You deserve to be happy. We all do.”

  “He’s your teacher, Jill, wouldn’t that just be weird?” Lainey asked, not really entertaining the idea at all.

  “He won’t always be my teacher. Just consider it and maybe when you’re ready, you could see about making some history with the history teacher.”

  “History. I’ve never heard it called that before.”

  “Mom! I was talking coffee, what the hell are you thinking about?”

  “Coffee, obviously.”

  Jill laughed and left the room.

  But thoughts of Jason didn’t make her think of coffee. The images he conjured were of rumpled sheets and soft skin sliding over rougher skin. She shook her head. She’d been there, done that, and come out of it raw and bitter. No, Jason Westlake was not a man to mess with.

  Chapter Two

  Two days later, Jason stood behind Lainey at the coffee shop, just a block from the school. It wasn’t a coincidence.

  “Hello, Ms Clarkson,” he said, from behind her shoulder.

  Turning, she looked up at him and her awesome eyes showed pleasure for a brief second before the wariness returned. “Hello, Mr Westlake. How are you?”

  “Fine thanks, and you?” he returned.

  “I’m well, thank you,” she answered, politely. “I’ve never seen you in here before.”

  “One of my colleagues told me about the place. I thought I’d check it out some morning when I wasn’t running late.” It was a complete lie. He’d accidentally overheard Jill tell her girlfriends that her mother stopped at this coffee shop every morning. He remembered grinning like a Cheshire cat as the idea of ‘running into her’ developed in his mind. Of course, that only led to a full-fledged fantasy of her inviting him home and doing exquisite things to him with those full lips of hers. Unable to keep his mind off her since he’d met her, discovering any reason to see her was a bonus.

  “That must have been Mr Valentine,” she smiled.

  “Yes, how did you know?” he fibbed seamlessly.

  “He’s in here all the time,” she said, taking another step forward as the line progressed.

  Jason stared up at the menu board as he noted several of the other women in the shop had spotted him and were now pointing. He gave them a smile and a quick nod. For the most part, if he acknowledged people, they nine times out of ten would leave it at that and not make a big deal or ask for an autograph. Sometimes they just wanted confirmation that he was in fact who they thought he was. People often asked, Do you know who you are? Most times a Hey, how are you? delivered cordially was enough.

  “So what do you recommend, Lainey?” He inserted her first name casually.

  “Uh, I usually just
have coffee. The cinnamon buns are good. Jilly loves them.” She glanced at his expensive suit and grinned prettily. “Although they are awfully sticky, maybe not something that you should try today.”

  When it was Lainey’s turn at the counter, Jason stood beside her instead of behind as if they were together.

  “What’ll ya have?” the harassed-looking middle-aged woman barked.

  “Large coffee, double double.”

  “I know what you want,” she snapped at Lainey.

  “G’morning to you too,” Lainey mumbled.

  “Him,” the woman snapped looking up at Jason. “Wha’d’ya want?”

  “I’ll have the same. And two croissants,” he added, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

  The clerk tossed the bag of pastries onto the counter and snarled a total.

  Jason handed her the cash before Lainey could do anything.

  Lainey picked up both cups, along with the little bag, and wandered out of the line while he collected his change.

  As he joined her he smiled down at her while she handed him a cup and the bag.

  “Thank you,” she held up the hot drink in salute. “I’ll return the favor next time,” she promised.

  “No problem. You’re welcome. Do you have time to sit?”

  Her smile faltered. “Uh,” she looked at her watch. “Um, yeah, I guess I have a few minutes.”

  Jason smiled widely. “Great.” He ushered her to a window booth. “I only have about ten minutes myself. They kinda frown on it when the teacher’s late.

  “Mmm, I can imagine,” she said, sliding into the seat across from him.

  Undoing the button holding his suit coat closed, he made sure that his tie didn’t drape across the sticky table as he bent to sit.

  Lainey pulled the tab on her coffee and took a tentative sip. Her hand shook slightly he noticed. Was he making her nervous? He hoped so.

  He fought with the tab on the cup. “I hate these things. I always end up with a great gaping hole.”

  “Here, let me,” she offered, reaching over, pulling the flap back a little more. She then slid the tongue and groove part together and it stuck.

  “Ahh, an expert.” He smiled across the table at her. “Thank you.” He lifted the cup and took a big gulp. It burned his mouth, but he swallowed anyway trying not to cough and sputter like a complete idiot. Inwardly he rolled his eyes at himself. Where had his confidence gone? He used to perform in front of thousands every night, and he’d never been nervous or awkward. Although, fifty percent of the time, he’d either had a few drinks or taken whatever drug was making the rounds back stage at the time, before he went on.

  Lainey smiled as if she knew that he’d just scalded the inside of his mouth, then looked over his shoulder.

  “Do you know those ladies?” she asked, watching behind his back.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled and gave a half-hearted wave to the table behind them. He still found it strange how middle-aged women could sound like teenage girls in an instant when a celebrity was around.

  “Moms. From school. PTA. That kind of thing. A couple of their daughters are in Jill’s history class.”

  She didn’t look like she believed him but nodded politely at his lie. “The interviews went well then?” she joked, with an all-knowing womanly smile.

  “Yeah, you could say that,” he answered, clearing his throat.

  “Looks like you have your own little fan club. Are you single, by chance, Mr Westlake?” She continued to grin and he found he liked it very much.

  “Yeah.”

  “Not for long, I’d say.” She raised a perfect dark eyebrow.

  “No. Something else the school frowns on, I’m sure, fraternizing with the parents. Probably not a good idea.”

  “Nope. Probably not a good idea.”

  Well, shit, he thought. He’d just given her the idea that it was against his policy and that he wouldn’t go out with any of the moms. He definitely wanted to see more of Jill’s mom. And in his imagination he already had. His eyes lingered on the tight bodice of the form-fitting dress she had on today. Her ample breasts pushed up nicely, giving a pleasant swell over the modestly plunging U shape—a nice hint of cleavage that he wanted to slide a finger into. Or even better, his tongue. He felt his cock tug at the thought and removed his gaze from the distracting curves.

  Lainey watched him, her cheeks rosy, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. But her eyes were full of warning.

  With a shift in his seat he tried to take the pressure off his groin. He took another sip of the hot coffee, thankful this time for the burn.

  “Want to share my croissants?”

  “What?” she stammered.

  He chuckled in spite of himself. Yeah, she knew exactly what was in his dirty thoughts. “I bought two croissants. Want one?” he asked again, tearing off one pointed flaky end. Keeping his gaze on hers he slowly opened his mouth and tucked the crusty morsel between his lips.

  She watched him carefully even licking her lips at the same time he did, then glimpsed over his shoulder again.

  “Mmm, they’re really good. Have some.”

  “No, thank you, I should get going. I have to get to work,” she rushed her words.

  Fuck! He’d blown it. Again. When had he turned into such a flop with the ladies? Well, not all the ladies. He could still hear the women behind him carrying on. When had he turned into such a flop with this lady? Uh, from the first meeting, ya dolt. What was it about her that turned him into a gawky twelve-year-old again?

  He touched her arm. “Wait.” She looked down at his hand and he removed it slowly. “Where do you work?”

  “I own the boutique across the street.”

  What an idiot. He’d been staring right at the sign across the boulevard as they sat there. It finally registered in his horny little brain—so focused on the lovely woman across from him that it hadn’t twigged. “Jillian’s. I should have guessed.”

  “Why would you?” She frowned and the action produced a delightful little crease before it disappeared.

  “Well, I just… I don’t know.” He gave up trying. “So what do you sell, women’s clothing?” She was dressed nicely as she had been the other day.

  “Yes, clothing, jewelry, shoes, bags, that kind of thing.”

  “Nice.”

  “Well, it was nice to see you again, Mr Westlake, Jason,” she amended, when he opened his mouth to correct her. He smiled, and her eyes went to his mouth. “I need to go open the store.”

  “Yeah, I have to get a move on myself. It was great to see you too…Lainey. I hope I run into you another time. Maybe tomorrow.” Hopefully.

  Giving a non-committal shrug, she peered over his shoulder again, then narrowed her gaze at the table of women. “Yeah, maybe.”

  Being a gentleman, he followed her to the door and opened it for her.

  “Thanks. And thanks for the coffee again,” she said, as the door swung shut. The sun shone off her hair giving it a rich hue of highlights. God, she was just a gorgeous lady.

  “No problem,” he repeated, wishing he didn’t have to run.

  “Well, have a good day,” she said, preparing to cross the street.

  “Yeah, you too. Have a good day,” he said lamely.

  Politely, she gave him a tight smile as she crossed.

  * * * *

  “Jill! Jill!” Tammy ran into the homeroom, breathless.

  “What!” Jill asked, just as dramatically.

  “You’ll never guess what I just saw.”

  “What?”

  “No, guess.”

  “Uh, you saw Patricia Douglas with Trent Matthews.”

  “No, guess again. And eeww by the way.” Her friend’s eyes widened in mock disgust at the thought of Tammy’s beloved-from-afar Trent the school Quarterback and the head cheerleader.

  “Umm. You saw on the newest tabloid that George Clooney just broke up with his latest model girlfriend of the month.”

&nb
sp; “Well that’s just a given and not even a guess.”

  “Just tell me already.”

  “My mom had to stop for coffee on the way to drop me off at school and we saw Mr Westlake at the coffee shop with a woman.”

  “Yeah, and? It was only a matter of time before someone jumped on that,” Jill remarked, opening her pencil case.

  “Don’t you want to know who the woman was?”

  “Do I know her?”

  “Uh, yeah, better than anyone.”

  Jill’s brow furrowed.

  “We saw him with your mom!” Tammy gushed.

  Jill laughed out loud. “My mom. Right, good one.”

  “No seriously. It was your mom.”

  For a moment Jill froze. A weird sort of coldness ripped across her shoulders.

  “You must have just seen them talking at the coffee shop. They met the other day when my mom went to parent-teacher interviews. And you know my mom stops there every morning before she opens the shop. She was just probably exchanging pleasantries with the man. She’s anything if not the most polite woman ever born,” Jill excused.

  “They weren’t just standing in line chatting it up, Jill. They were sitting together at a corner table, having coffee and he was eating a croissant.”

  “Having coffee?” Jill asked. It was just what she’d suggested to her mother the other day. Never dreaming that she’d actually ask the man out for coffee. And even though it had been Jill’s idea, she now felt funny about suggesting it. She couldn’t picture her mom in another relationship, especially if it turned out badly again. She wasn’t sure that her mother would survive it a second time, not even for her. And she knew in her heart that in the darkest days just after her mom and dad broke up and the extent of her father’s sexual escapades came out, that her mother only made it through because she knew that Jill needed her.

  “Yeah, I know right! Can you imagine, if they got married, waking up to that every day? Fuck me!” Tammy slid down in her seat.

  “Married? Oh, come on. My mother will never get married again. My father has ruined her for ever having a decent trusting relationship again.”