by Lila Younger
“And what is it about the place you enjoy so much?”
This I have to think about. I know that my mom loves the B and B because she can meet all sorts of people, and my dad likes it because he likes making my mom happy. But me?
“I like the history of the place. I like that we’re preserving it for the future. Restoring the place, scouting out furniture pieces, learning all about its history, all that sort of stuff.”
James nods, like he expect my answer. He takes a hold of my hand.
“I think you’re great at it. And that’s what I want to do with you. There are tons of homes in New England, old homes that people want to renovate and restore. You could be the designer, learn all about the place, its history, what sort of things we should do to restore it properly without destroying the character of the home. I’ll take care of the business side of things, arrange for the crews to come and do the work, find the craftsmen and artisans if you want special pieces made, that sort of thing.”
My eyes widen as I take in what he says. At first, I want to say no, I couldn’t do that, but the more I think about it, the more it sounds like the perfect job for me. I didn’t love the job of managing a hotel. No, what I loved was being in all that history. And if I could do what I did for Selkirk House, preserving all the old houses, learning about it, well, I think I wouldn’t mind leaving the B and B after all.
“Are you sure though? I mean, I don’t have any experience with that sort of thing.”
“I’m sure. You’ve done a great job with Selkirk House already. I hear it from the guests all the time. And you don’t need that much experience. You have a good eye and a natural talent. And most of all, I think you have passion, and that’s what you need for this sort of work.”
“Then yes,” I say with glee, throwing my arms around James’ neck. “I do want to do this with you, more than anything in the world.”
“Good. Now how about some of that dinner I promised?”
“Yes please!”
We get out of bed, and because my dress is down in the kitchen, I pull on one of James’ shirts. It’s a soft flannel, and it smells like him. It’s like wearing a hug. He pulls on his boxers and jeans, and together we head down the hallway back into the kitchen. James pulls out the chicken and puts on a pot of water. I walk around the cabin. There’s a cozy family room opposite the kitchen, with a big TV and a huge sectional couch. A bunch of books line the shelves around the TV, including some kid books, battered by many little hands.
This is a family cabin, I realize. And suddenly I’m thinking, is it possible? Could I have a family with James? My hand holds onto my belly. We didn’t use protection this time, but it didn’t seem like James cared at all. If anything, it made him excited to finish in me. If I got pregnant, the whole world would know I was his for sure.
Suddenly there’s a knock at the door.
We look at each other.
“Did you-”
“Is there-”
We both stop. Neither of us would have told anyone. What’s going on?
“Maybe it’s the landlord,” he says.
James strides through the doorway into the living room, but I hang behind so that I can’t be seen. He unlocks the door and opens it, and I gasp.
Dad!?
“Where’s my daughter?” My father demands. He pushes past James, who looks shocked. “AVA!”
I know there’s no use in hiding, but I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath before I step forward. My mother’s hovering on the threshold. Why is she here too?
“I’m here,” I say, my cheeks burning with shame. This wasn’t how I wanted things to come out.
My dad takes one look at me in the flannel shirt and puts two and two together. I can see his face turning red with rage, and my mother rushes forward to put a hand on him.
“You bastard!” he roars, and to my surprise, he punches James. Luckily, James’ reflexes are much faster, and he holds up a hand and stops my father’s fist. My mom screams.
“Dad, what are you doing?!”
“What am I doing? I’m killing this son of a bitch that came under my roof and, and ruined my little girl.”
James has remained remarkably calm. Maybe he doesn’t realize that my dad isn’t joking.
“That’s not true dad. Listen to me,” I plead. “It didn’t happen like that at all. I wanted to be with James.”
He looks at me in disbelief, as if I’m speaking gibberish.
“She’s right,” James says. “We’re two consenting adults, and I didn’t force her. I know you don’t like it, but you have to know, I love Ava. This isn’t a fleeting thing for me.”
My dad’s face gets even redder at the words, and he breaks out of my mom’s grasp to get right in James’ face.
“I don’t believe you,” he snarls.
I run forward, putting myself between the two of them, which is no easy feat, considering how powerful and big James is.
“Dad, listen to me. James is right. I’m here because I want to. I love him dad. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I just, I just didn’t want things to be ruined.”
I can see my words are slowly sinking into his brain. He’s still fuming, but he isn’t lunging at James anymore, so I relax a little. James comes up to me, putting his arm around me, which gets my dad going again, but he manages to hold back.
“This, this is what you want Ava?” he says.
“It is,” I say, putting everything I have into the two words so he knows I mean it.
He glares at James, then turns away and heads through the door. I turn to my mom.
“Do you think dad will forgive me?” I ask.
“He will Ava. He loves you,” she says. Turning to James, she adds, “I’m not so sure about you.”
“How’d you find us anyway?”
“Norman Laird, from church, owns the cottage,” she says. “He saw our car parked outside and saw you going in. Since he rented it to an older fellow, he thought that he should let us know. I better go with your dad now.”
She turns to the door, but then stops and pulls me close to her in a hug.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” she whispers.
“Yes, more than anything,” I reply.
She looks at me for a moment, and then nods. I watch her as she leaves and walks to the truck. My dad turns on the engine and backs up without looking at me. After a minute, they’re gone. James closes the door quietly.
“Well, that’s one way to get things out in the open,” he says wryly.
“I don’t think you really helped there, holding onto me like that,” I say. “Do you think dad will come around?”
“Oh sure. He’s more pissed about the fact that he had to find out from some nosy fellow more than anything. I’ll go talk to him tomorrow, and we’ll sort things out, I promise.”
Even though I’m still not sure at how things are, there’s no point in trying to chase after my parents tonight. They’re upset, and they had every right to be. Maybe tomorrow, when tempers have cooled, things will seem better. For now though, our secret is out, and James and I are together at last.
Epilogue
James
Six months later…
I was right about Ava’s father. He was mad at first, but he knew I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d be an asshole to his daughter, who would dump her after a few good times and move on. Once we’d talked things out, he came around to the idea of his best friend being with his daughter. After all, there’s nobody else who would treat Ava as good as I would.
The B and B turned out beautifully, and people began to ask if we could help restore their homes too. It turns out that my idea to start a company with Ava was a good one. She decided to name it Selkirk Homes and Restoration, because it was the B and B that brought us together. Things snowballed from there, and now we have a full plate on our hands, restoring not only homes for people, but other structures for historical societies, commercial buildings and more. Ava practically
blossomed under the work she was doing, finally putting her mom’s worries to rest.
I decided to sell my house in D.C. so that Ava and I could stay close to her family. We toured many houses, but Ava and I finally settled on an old farmhouse that was in danger of being torn down after a fire. She is determined to save it though, so that’s what we have been working on every weekend. Norman Laird was kind enough to let us continue to rent the cabin for a few more months until it’s done. It’s a labor of love, but that’s fine by us. As long as we move in before the baby gets here, we’re in no rush. I’m measuring for cabinets in the kitchen when I hear my name.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. “Ava, you have to be careful of the paint fumes.”
“It’s been a day already,” she replies as she gingerly steps into the kitchen. “And I didn’t want to wait to see what it looked like.”
Her hand shields her round belly, and she’s got a gorgeous glow that makes her look like a goddess. It’s the middle of summer, and she’s in a maxi dress, but I can see her curves through the thin fabric as she turns around to survey the room. I love that she’s becoming lusher from the pregnancy. Her breasts are practically spilling out of the top of the dress, a sight that makes me hard every time I look at her.
“I’m just not sure about the color,” she murmurs, a finger on her lips. “What do you think? It might be too dark in here with the wood cabinets.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I say distractedly as I pull her to me. I stroke her belly, before lifting a hand to tweak her nipple. Pregnancy has made her breasts so sensitive that even the slightest touch can turn Ava on.
“James! I’m serious. I just want-ohhhhh,” she moans as I roll the pink tip between my fingers.
I grab fistfuls of her dress until I can pull it over her hips, pressing her ass against my cock. My hand rubs against the front of her panties. She’s dripping with cream already, and I lube up my fingers in it before bringing it to her lips for a taste.
“What do you want?” I breathe into her ear.
“You,” she pants as my fingers reach down again, pushing aside the pathetic piece of fabric and slide into her tight pussy. Pregnancy has made everything down here puff up too, and she cries out as I slip two fingers into her cunt. I pull down the straps of her dress, releasing big handfuls of her breast. Because she’s so pregnant, Ava and I have only a certain set of positions we can do. I don’t care though. I love that she’s got all these curves.
Ava gets down on all fours and I make quick work of my belt and jeans. My cock is hard as a rock, and I slide it up between her ass cheeks a few times before I push myself into her. Ava gets down onto her elbows, and the steeper angle allows me to penetrate her further. I have to hold tight onto her hips, to the point of almost bruising her, as I thrust deep into her pussy. Her moans get louder from the rough treatment, as I slam into her, my balls slapping against her clit. I love connecting with Ava like this. I wish it was possible to have my cock in her 24/7 it feels so good and so right.
I thrust faster, and she squeezes her pussy around my cock like a vise. It drives me crazy every time she does it, and this time is no different. I thrust harder, my male need to dominate and claim what’s mine overtaking any rational thought until I hear her scream my name, a torrent of liquid coming out as she comes all around my cock. I pull her tight against me, swearing as I finish inside of her. I can feel my cock twitching as I coat her with heat, my eyes closing as I bathe in the warmth of my release. I don’t want to pull out. Instead, I slowly sit back, easing her with me until she’s on my lap. I push aside her hair and kiss the back of her neck gently.
“I love you Ava,” I say.
“I love you too James,” she says.
Ava leans her head back onto my chest, and I put my hands onto her belly. She’s mine, and this baby bump proves it, but sometimes I still can’t believe it.
*****
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Here’s the first chapter of my book His Virgin Babysitter… Enjoy!
I settle myself down onto the uncomfortable red metal bench and plop down my purse. Rummaging around, I manage to find my blue pen and sigh. This is the last one, I think to myself. My hand is going to fall off, and there are only so many applications I can fill out. I decide to treat myself to a frappuccino after this and start at the very top. All these applications are the same and the repetitiveness of it all is definitely getting to me. Of course, maybe if I hadn’t landed myself in this mess, I wouldn’t be applying to Target. Nothing wrong with it, but for someone who’s always aimed to be a doctor or a lawyer, it’s definitely disappointing.
“It’s just a year,” I mutter to myself. “And then I can go back.”
Since I’ve done this so many times, I’m blasting through the application. But then I hit the part about my schooling and I stop. What the hell do I put here? Suspended? Didn’t finish? None of it sounds great. Ironically, I landed in my current situation because I was the only one who told the truth. For some reason, that also meant that I was the only one the school could punish. So instead of going back to school after winter break, I’m stuck at home. Yuck.
I run my hand through my thick chestnut hair and sigh one more time. I already applied at all the graphic design firms and office receptionist positions I could find. Not one of them responded. Then I started looking at stuff in customer service and the restaurant industry. If something doesn’t pan out, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. My parents already made it clear that they weren’t about to give me a free ride. I tried to explain what happened, but they were too busy scrambling for a plausible lie for why I’m not going back to university.
Come on Jade. This isn’t like you to be all doom and gloom about things.
There’s nothing else to do but suck it up and finish, so I do just that. Once I’m done filling out the same information I’ve filled out a hundred times by now, I drop the application back to the chubby guy behind the customer service counter and head for the Starbucks in Target. As I go, I catch the eye of a guy who’s at the self checkout, and he flashes me a smile. I flush and duck my head down out of habit. It’s the ugly duckling syndrome, but even though I’m aware of it, it’s still hard to break. We moved a lot in junior high, so it was almost impossible for me to make friends. Since I was always the new kid, I was naturally picked on.
I’m not ugly, not by a long shot. As my mom would say, my body just grew at different rates. Of course, I just thought she was being kind about my knobby knees and overlong arms, but I did grow almost two inches in senior year, and filled out more too. And it turns out mom was right. Everything is now nicely proportioned, put together the right way. But by now blushing and looking away is a reflex that I do without thinking, which probably accounts for why I still don’t have a boyfriend. If I am braver I would smile back and maybe even flirt a little, but I have no clue how to do any of that stuff, so instead I just hurry into Starbucks.
Once I suck in a few gulps of my vanilla bean frap and figure that the coast is clear, I head towards the Target parking lot. I’m right by the carts when a gold whirlwind crashes into my leg. I look down and see an adorable little girl in what looks like a Belle costume, complete with gloves and all. She looks seriously adorable.
“You okay, Belle?” I ask, bending down to her level.
“My crown,” she wails, putting hands onto her head.
“Here, I can help,” I say quickly.
She looks to be about two or three, and I know just how quickly meltdowns can happen at that age. She stands still while I fix her crown, patting it once I’m done.
“All fixed,” I say with a smile
.
“Luna, you cannot run away from me like that. And you have to watch where you’re going. Apologize please,” a voice says, coming up behind Luna.
“Oh it’s not a big deal,” I say. I look up to the guy who must be her father and freeze.
Was this her father? Cause he definitely didn’t look like a dad. My eyes sort of bounce all over, taking in the broad shoulders beneath his suit jacket, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, and the most amazing lips turned up in an apologetic smile. He pushes his golden, windswept hair out of his dark blue eyes and my heart starts thumping erratically. They’re that incredible, I can’t even look away like I usually do.
“Apologize Luna,” he says again, firmly.
“Sorry,” the little girl says, and I finally manage to drag my eyes away from her dad. I try to focus on the little girl as much as possible, because I know without a doubt how obviously I was staring.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “Look, my drink isn’t even spilled.”
Satisfied that she did her part, the girl turns away from me to point at the special carts for kids.
“That one daddy,” she says imperiously.
She’s clearly comfortable with being a princess, and it makes me grin. What can I say? I love children.
“Hold on one second honey,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Do I… know you from somewhere?”
“Know me?” I echo foolishly. I’m not sure I can look up at those eyes again. I flick my eyes up, and yep, they’re capturing me again. I blush like I’ve never blushed before, but the guy just rolls on, mercifully unaware, or just being kind.
“Yeah. You’re Louis and Diane’s kid aren’t you? Jade?” He holds out his hand. “I’m Carter Sedgwick. I used to live on the other side of the duplex.”
I have a vague recollection of a guy with glasses, but we lived in the duplex when I was eleven or twelve. I definitely did not remember my neighbor being this hot, but then again, I was pretty obsessed with the Jonas Brothers at the time.
