Love And Honor: A Time Travel Romance (The Lightwood Affair Book 3)

by M. S. Parker

  “Have you looked into getting a loan?” I asked. “Especially now that your student loans are paid off, you should qualify.”

  “No one around here's going to give me a loan,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I'm planning on looking at a couple other places that might do it.”

  I started to ask why he thought the banks in St. Helena wouldn't want to give him a loan for something that would benefit the community, but before the words got out, the waiter returned with the wine. It was a good thing too because, as our glasses were being filled, I figured it out.

  Back when I'd first met Jasper, Allen had given me a bit of background on his best friend, including the fact that Jasper had been quite the hellion growing up. I'd never gotten details, but I'd gotten the impression that it had been pretty bad. It seemed that Jasper was still fighting against his adolescent reputation. I had to admit, knowing how far he'd come definitely made me admire him. I wondered if that was why his relationship with his family was so strained.

  Allen's expression was serious as he raised his glass. “To leaving the past behind and moving forward.”

  Jasper and I echoed the toast. It was a good toast, I thought. Advice that I should take for myself as well. With our anniversary coming up, I wanted to celebrate, but I also wanted Allen and me to move forward. I didn't want us being one of those couples who settled into a routine and then lost themselves in it. I wanted us to go into the second year of marriage knowing that the best years were to come.

  Chapter 4

  The dinner with Jasper kept us on a high note for the rest of the weekend. Allen did work, but instead of going to his office, he stayed at the house and the two of us sat on the couch and worked together. The only downside was that I still couldn't figure out how to approach the subject of us moving forward. I tried to do it Sunday afternoon by coming at it in a roundabout way.

  “I think we should find someone to set Jasper up with.”

  Allen looked over at me in surprise. “What?”

  “Every time we go out, he's always alone. He never brings anyone.” The moment I said it, I realized it was true. I'd maybe seen him with a girl a handful of times in all the years I'd known him, and it had always been a different girl. And he'd always made it clear that they weren't with him for the long haul.

  Allen was silent for a moment, a strange expression on his face, and then he said, “I don't think Jasper's the 'setting up' type.”

  “He doesn't want to settle down?” I asked, really curious now.

  I wasn't sure why, but Jasper didn't seem to me like the kind of guy who wanted to play the field, even though I'd seen him with different women. And there was no way a man like him would lack for prospects. He was gorgeous, polite and kind. And a doctor. He was the kind of guy who should've been either married to someone equally as amazing, or involved in a steady stream of casual relationships. As I thought about it, even his dates over the years had been sporadic.

  When Allen answered, he spoke slowly, like he was being careful about the words he chose. “I think he's very selective about what he wants.” He turned back to his computer and I got the impression that the subject was closed.

  I didn't push it, but I also wasn't going to drop it either. I needed to find someone for Jasper so that our nights out could stop being the three of us with Allen as our center. If Jasper had a girlfriend, we could go on double dates and talk about relationship things. Plans for the future.

  I spent the next week trying to think of someone who'd be perfect for Jasper. I hadn't realized how few people I actually knew until I started naming them. All of the other teachers were out. Jasper might've been three years older than me, but the closest single woman to our age at school was Miss Rosenbaum and she was at least in her early fifties. Somehow, I didn't think Jasper would be interested in someone more than twenty years his senior. I might not have known his type, but I doubted that was it.

  There were a few women who worked at the vineyard, but I didn't spend much time with them since they were usually leaving around the same time I got home. I could've asked Allen what he thought, but he'd made it pretty clear that he didn't want to try to fix his friend up with anyone. Also, I wasn't entirely sure how appropriate it would be to try to set up an employee with the boss' best friend.

  By the time I was leaving school at the end of my last day, I'd all but given up. I was down to two options, talking to either Allen again or trying my luck with Jasper himself. Since neither one seemed very promising, I decided to put my plans for Jasper on the back burner and start focusing on my own future. A week from tomorrow would be our anniversary and I was determined that changes would be made. I just wasn't sure if I should decide what I wanted and then use that to start the conversation with Allen or if I should just figure out a way to tell him I wanted to talk about the future and let things go from there.

  To my surprise, I didn't have to do either. Allen was the one who broached the subject that very night.

  He'd come home a bit late, but still plenty early enough for the two of us to eat dinner together. I'd fully expected him to make a cursory excuse for needing to go back to his office and then spend the rest of the night alone. Instead, he'd suggested we curl up on the couch together and watch a movie. He hadn't said it, but I'd gotten the impression that he was trying to make up for missing our date night.

  We were halfway through one of our favorite movies when he spoke, “I've been thinking about the future.”

  I shifted from where I'd been sitting with my head resting on his chest. I wanted to look at him. “I have too.”

  He reached down and laced his fingers between mine. “I know it's seemed like I've been working really late for the past couple weeks.”

  Seemed like? I held my tongue, wanting to see where he was going with this.

  “I'm sorry about that.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead. “And I was working, just not exclusively on the vineyard.”

  I gave him a questioning look and tried not to read into his words. He wasn't acting guilty or anything like that, so I pushed down the negative feelings and waited for him to continue.

  “Part of what I've been spending so much time on is a series of projections.”

  “Projections?” Now I was really confused.

  “I was looking at the profits and expenses for the last five years, then making predictions regarding the same for the next five years.”

  And this was one of the reasons why I always left the business end of things to Allen. I could teach basic mathematics and solving provided equations was easy enough for me. Trying to apply those things to a business model...well, I'd probably get better results if I asked my second graders to do it.

  “Basically,” he continued. “I was trying to figure out what our budget could be for the next five years.”

  I should've known when Allen said he'd been thinking about the future that this was how he'd been doing it. My husband, the king of charts and spreadsheets.

  “I know we've only been married a year and we'd always talked about wanting to be married two years before we started talking about a family, but we've been together for a long time and my calculations say that we'd be able to handle it financially.”

  I stared at him. Was he seriously saying what I thought he was saying?

  His cheeks flushed and he smiled at me. “We've taken everything so slowly, making sure we completely planned every step and considered all possible angles before acting. And this isn't me being impulsive.”

  I never would've thought that, though I wasn't about to tell him. Allen was the least impulsive person I knew. Even when we did exciting things, they were always scheduled.

  “But I think we've followed our plans so closely that I could see us waiting an extra year just because that's what we'd originally planned and not for any other reason. I don't want to wait anymore.” He raised our hands and brushed his lips against my knuckles. “I want to start a family with you.”

  I felt like I'd b
een blind-sided. Here I'd been thinking I'd have to force him to talk about the future, to look towards doing things differently. I hadn't been thinking specifically of children, but rather the two of us moving beyond simple relationship maintenance. Here he was thinking the same thing.

  “Shae?” He squeezed my hand. “If you don't think you're ready...”

  I stopped his words with a firm kiss. When I leaned back, his eyes were bright. I didn't try to explain to him all of the things that had been worrying me, or what Gina had said about couples who'd been together for as long as we had. None of that seemed important now. This wasn't the two of us wanting to have a kid to fix something that was broken. This was us realizing that the things we wanted didn't have to wait for us to be at the previously scheduled place.

  “Tell me more,” I said. There would be more, I knew. While Allen might've changed his timetable, I knew my husband never would've done it without a plan in place. I pulled his arm around my shoulders, keeping our hands linked, and snuggled back down against his side.

  He put his other arm around my waist and pulled me even closer, a familiar gesture that I'd missed over the last few weeks. “Well, I was thinking that one of the ways we could celebrate our anniversary next week would be to start trying for a kid then.” His words were casual, but nothing else was.

  Heat flooded my body and I shivered. I felt Allen's body tense and knew that he was thinking the same thing I was. We'd always been meticulous about birth control, never wanting to leave anything to chance. Even though I'd been on the pill since college and we'd both been faithful, he'd always insisted on using a condom. Now, for the first time, I'd know what it felt like to have nothing between us. Skin on skin. What it felt like to have him come inside me, knowing that our actions were intentionally trying to create life.

  “Obviously, it could take a while since you'll have just stopped taking the pill.” His voice was rough as he continued, “But I was already thinking that we'll want to get a room prepared so that we don't have to worry about paint fumes around you when you're pregnant.”

  I chuckled. “You really did give this a lot of thought.”

  “Of course.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now, about the nursery. I figured its location would depend on whether or not we intended to keep the nursery as a nursery for the other kids or if each nursery would grow with the child.”

  “Other kids?” I found myself relaxing against him, all of the tension of the past month seeping away.

  “You did still want three, right?” he asked. “Maybe four?”

  I nodded, recalling the conversation we'd had shortly before we'd gotten engaged. We'd both agreed that we wanted a decent-sized family. Three or four kids, depending on how long it took for me to get pregnant. I didn't want to be having a child when I was pushing forty. That might be fine for some people, but it wasn't what I wanted.

  “So,” he continued. “If we want a set nursery, I was thinking we could use the room right next to ours since we have the adjoining door. We wouldn't want older kids in that room, but if it's only going to be babies, it'd be ideal. And each kid can stay in the nursery until the next one comes along, except for the last one, of course.”

  I smiled and closed my eyes. I loved the excitement I could hear in his voice. This was the way he always got when some idea took hold of him. He'd plan to excess, but never tire of it. Once he'd found something he was passionate about, it stuck with him. I realized now that's how he was about us. He might not show it in the best of ways sometimes, but our marriage and our future was something that he had passion for.

  As he kept talking, going over various thoughts he'd had about child care and maternity leave, I found myself starting to drift. I hadn't realized the toll that everything had been taking on me.

  “I'm not sure which would be best,” he said, seemingly oblivious to my foggy state. “If you had the baby during the school year so that you could take maternity leave, and then have the summer to be with the baby too or if it'd be better for you to have the baby at the end of June or July so you'd have the whole summer off. Of course, the worst timing would be for you to be due at the end of August or beginning of September...”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to remind him that, no matter how much he might try, he wouldn't really have any control over when the baby was due. Even if we tried to time conception based on when we wanted to have the baby, it all came down to whether or not the biology was going to cooperate.

  I didn't tell him any of that though because even as I thought it, I felt the darkness coming and I let it pull me under without any resistance. I was safe in his arms, my future secure.

  Chapter 5

  Something was trailing up and down my arm. The touch was light but familiar, and it pulled me out of my deep sleep.

  “Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” Allen whispered in my ear.

  He took my earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it as I shivered myself awake. I opened my eyes and he shifted so that his face hovered above mine. I smiled and he returned it. I started to reach up for him, but he rolled away. Puzzled, I pushed myself up into a half-sitting position. After eight years, morning-breath wasn't really an issue.

  “I made you breakfast.” Allen was grinning as he set a tray on the bedside table. He handed me a mug that said Number 1 Teacher and the scent of coffee wafted toward me.

  It showed how much I loved coffee that I didn't even realize he was naked until I'd taken a long drink of the delicious liquid. Or maybe it said more about my need for caffeine. Either way, as soon as I realized there was something more interesting in front of me, I handed the mug back.

  He frowned. “Is something wrong with it?”

  “Nope.” I grinned at him as I reached down and pulled my nightgown over my head. I kept the sheet pulled up, teasing him. His eyes darkened as I wriggled out of my panties and tossed them aside as well. “There's just something else I'd rather have in my mouth right now.”

  His lips curved up into a smile as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to me. Still smiling, he pulled down the sheet, exposing my body inch by inch.

  “The breakfast of champions.” He winked at me and I laughed. It had been a long time since I'd seen him like this, relaxed and playful. He'd been working hard this week to get things ready so we could spend some time alone for our anniversary, but I'd been worried that he'd still be carrying work with him the whole weekend. Apparently not.

  He ran his finger down between my breasts to my bellybutton. His hand flattened on my stomach and I looked up at him. His expression was serious now, but there was a new light in his eyes.

  “Things are going to change today,” he said softly.

  “And I'm looking forward to it.” I reached out and put my hand on his thigh. The hairs tickled my palm as I ran my hand up and down the lean muscle there. When I moved my hand over, his fingers flexed on my stomach. I kept my eyes on his face as I wrapped my hand around his cock. His expression tightened as my fingers closed around the soft flesh.

  “Lay down,” he said as his fingers danced lower, barely skimming my curls.

  I kept my hand on him as I stretched out. When he pulled all but one of the pillows out from under my head, I smiled, knowing exactly what he was going to do. While we both still enjoyed giving oral sex, we hadn't done it like this in a long time.

  He swung one leg over my head, twisting around so that he could lean down between my legs. There was a seven inch difference in our heights, but I had a long torso and he was mostly legs, so we were actually pretty evenly matched when it came to sex. As I spread my legs, he settled into position, his cock dangling temptingly above my mouth.

  I kept one hand on his hip and used the other to hold him in place as I raised my head. I wrapped my lips around the tip of his shaft. I moaned around the delicate flesh as his tongue ran across my sensitive skin. His hair brushed against my thighs as he pressed his mouth over me. My eyelids fluttered at the marvelous sensations running across my nerves
and only the slight thrust of his hips reminded me that I had my own business to attend to.

  I ran my tongue along the underside of his cock before rising up to take it all into my mouth. Getting him all inside when he was erect was difficult, so on the occasions I got to take him soft, I liked to take advantage. I felt his sounds of pleasure more than heard him and the vibrations added to everything I was feeling.

  I let him slide from my mouth as I turned my attention to his balls, running my tongue over the soft skin before taking first one, then the other, into my mouth, all the while working his cock with my free hand. As his tongue slid inside me, my hips bucked up against his mouth and he chuckled. I tightened my hand around him and the laughter suddenly stopped. A moment later, I felt his lips surround my clit and I swore as he began to suck. I returned my attention to his cock, first matching his suction, and then mimicking the flicks of his tongue. The pressure inside me was building and I felt the muscles under my hand twitch. We were both close.

  He rolled off of me, breath coming in harsh pants, his cock shiny and swollen. My pussy throbbed with unfulfilled release. I ran my hand down my stomach to the ache between my legs. I looked at him as I slid a finger between my slick folds. He was watching, his eyes dark, a clear expression of lust on his face.

  “Play with yourself,” he said. “Make yourself come.”

  Something low inside me tightened at the tone of his voice. This wasn't anything I hadn't done with him before, but there was an edge to him this morning that hadn't been there the last time we'd made love.

  I rubbed my first two fingers along either side of my clit, then ran my palm over it as my fingers moved down to my entrance. One slid inside easily enough and I added the second a few moments later. The heel of my hand pressed against my clit and I closed my eyes. My back arched, hips pushing up against the thrust of my fingers. I bent my knees, putting my feet flat on the bed to give myself leverage. When I masturbated, I usually moved very little, but I wasn't doing this for me. I was doing this for my husband and I wanted him to enjoy the show. Besides, it wasn't like I didn't intend to enjoy it.