by Wegner, Ola
Amy rolled her eyes. “You’re far too conceited for your own good,” she informed him.
Jake shook his head with a smile. “I’ve asked what you think about visiting your father next weekend.”
She stared at him for a moment, surprised. “I haven’t thought about that.”
“But you want to?”
“Sure, I want to!” she exclaimed, all enthusiasm. “I haven’t seen him for over month now. He sounds relaxed on the phone, but I’d love to see for myself how he is.”
“You finish earlier on Friday, and I’ll try to rearrange all my meetings so we could catch a flight in the early afternoon. We’ll be back Sunday evening or perhaps late afternoon. That way you could spend the entire Saturday with him.”
“That’d be great. Thank you.” She leaned over to kiss his clean-shaven cheek. “It’s so thoughtful of you.”
He reached out and touched her cheek. “You should’ve noticed that I like doing things that make you happy.”
Amy looked into his eyes, and didn’t shy away as usual when he leaned forward to kiss her. The kiss started gently as all his kisses did, but today Amy knew that her reaction was different. She felt even more curious and definitely more adventurous. She wanted to see what could happen if she was more welcoming this time. So when he slowly pulled away, and leaned back against his chair, she stood up, and shyly sat down on his lap.
For a very short moment, he didn’t react at all, and Amy felt very stupid. She was about to lift up, but she didn’t manage because his arms wrapped around her and she felt his warm mouth on her nape.
It was hard to meet his eyes, and she knew her face was very red. One of his arms supported her back and he lifted his free hand to touch her face to make her look at him. He smiled at her, or rather his eyes did. She made an embarrassed sound and hid her face into his neck.
“There’s nothing wrong with sitting on your very own husband’s lap,” he noted warmly.
“I know,” she said, and lifted her face from his shoulder to look at him again.
The kiss that came next had nothing to do with the almost innocent teasing of the previous ones. It was deep and arousing. He tugged at her lips persistently, gently inserting his tongue into her mouth. She closed her eyes, and let herself surrender to the pleasure of it, responding to the movement of his lips and tongue.
He was a good kisser, she thought as his hand slipped from her face to her neck, and then lower. It brushed lightly against her breast, which instantly felt tight and tingling. Then he moved his hand down her body, eliciting short gasps from her mouth when it lingered on her waist, hip, and stroked the top of her leg. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, when he pushed her legs slightly apart and with the back of his fingers began to touch lightly her inner thigh. She moaned uncontrollably into his mouth, the sharp warm sensation pulling between her legs. She realized that probably she would have to change her panties before going to work, because she was already wet, and he’d barely touched her. He didn’t touch her exactly there and soon his hand moved higher, staying flattened on her ribcage just on the underside of her breast. She wore a comfortable, lacy bra without the underwire today under the thin blouse so if he wanted he could feel her without much trouble, but still he didn’t shift his hand up.
Amy craved for him to move his fingers just a bit higher, and started wriggling on his knees, pushing herself into his hand. She was about to ask him to do that, or simply push his hand up right on her aching nipple, when his phone rang, vibrating and light flashing as it moved across the table next to the previously abandoned newspaper. They ignored it at first, but when it started ringing again, she broke the kiss reluctantly.
“You should answer.” She smoothed his hair, rumpled from her own fingers just moments ago. “Perhaps it’s something important.” She tried to get up from his lap, but he stopped her.
Amy reached for the phone and handed it to him.
He flipped it open and checked the last caller. “It’s Marcia. Only she has my private number.” He frowned. “Something’s wrong if she’s phoning me.” He chose the last number.
“Yes, what’s the matter?” he asked when she answered.
Amy could hear Marcia saying that there was an accident at one of the building sites. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said shortly before ending the conversation.
He pushed her gently from his knees but didn’t release her from his arms. “I must go.”
Her hands smoothed the front of his shirt. “I’m worried.”
“It’s not enjoyable, but such things happen in this business,” he said in a resigned voice, stepping from her and reaching for his jacket. “Where’s my briefcase?” he asked as he looked around.
“I think it’s in the bedroom,” Amy said quickly and padded to the back of the apartment, returning with the black leather briefcase.
He took it from her, opened it, and checked through the papers inside. Then, taking the last gulp of now cold coffee, he walked down the hall.
“Promise to call me later and tell me how things are.” She followed him to the door.
“Sure.” He leaned to kiss her cheek. “I’ll probably be very late. Go to sleep and don’t wait for me.”
“I’ll wait,” she whispered when the door closed after him.
Her day at work was long and all she waited for was a call from Jake. She knew how unpleasant accidents were for the owner of the company. She remembered only too well how her own father had felt, and all the stress it had caused, when many years ago one of his workers had cut his finger off during work.
Guessing how preoccupied he had to be, she refrained from calling him. It was after 5pm when he called her at last. He sounded busy and curt, saying that everything was now under control, and that he wouldn’t be home until late evening, so she should go to bed, and not wait up for him. She wanted to ask him how he felt, and how he was dealing with everything, but he had another call, and ended the conversation quickly.
Amy stared at her mobile for a moment after he hung up before putting it aside. She couldn’t help feeling worried for him. It came to her how unexpected it was that she felt so anxious about someone who had appeared in her life just over a month ago. It was sad to admit that she turned out to be so love and attention starved that she’d managed to attach herself so quickly to the first man who entered her life since Michael. To tell the truth she was rather pathetic.
Sometimes she wondered what the love of her life, Michael Cummings, was doing now. Strange, but she hadn’t thought about him much for some time now. Last time she heard about him was from a mutual friend. She’d been told that he’d got a job in some prestigious law firm in Boston, moving there together with his wife. She could mail him, like a friend only, and she’d been tempted more than once, but she’d never done it. He’d been out of her life for over three years. He was in her past, full stop. There was no point in unburying it from the ashes.
To keep herself occupied, she cleaned the apartment, and cooked a light dinner, in case Jake was hungry when he returned home. When she finished with everything it was after 10pm, but he was still not back and he didn’t phone her another time. She decided to wait for him in the living room, curling on the couch, and flipping over the channels restlessly. At last, she settled on one of the music channels to watch a Kelly Clarkson concert.
She must have dozed off because she was awakened with a kiss on her forehead.
“I told you not to wait for me,” Jake whispered in a gentle voice, sitting beside her.
“What’s the time?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. TV was still on, filling the dark room with a monochromic light, but clearly the concert had ended as the sound was muted and there were some clips flashing on the screen.
His gentle hand brushed her hair away. “Just after midnight.”
“So late?” Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light and she took in his features. There was beard stubble and weary lines on his face, but he looked rather calm.
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br /> “The man who was injured had an operation, it ended an hour ago. I stayed with his wife there at the hospital.”
“Is he...?” she was afraid to ask.
He shook his head. “No, he’s fine. But I had to fire a few people, including the building site manager. Things turned pretty nasty at some point. This accident shouldn’t have happened.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said earnestly, cupping his cheek and observing him leaning into her hand. “It had to be such a horrible day for you.”
He kissed the inside of her palm and smiled, shaking his head in denial. “You’re here,” he said, as if that had been the explanation for everything.
Amy frowned, pretending not to understand. Scrambling to her feet, she took his hand.
“Come, you must be hungry,” she tugged him towards the kitchen.
He followed her obediently, but soon protested. “No, I had a sandwich a few hours ago. I’m not hungry.”
She turned to face him, her eyes concerned. “You’re sure?”
“Mm.” He nodded, closed his eyes, and pulled her tightly into a bear hug. “All I need is to go to bed and get some sleep with my wife close by my side, in my arms,” he murmured into her neck.
“Then come.”
She gently disentangled from his embrace, took his hand again, and led him to the bedroom.
She pushed him to sit down on the bed and started undressing him. When he was left wearing only his slacks, she whispered, “Remove your trousers and I’ll bring you a t-shirt.” She still felt very hesitant about touching him below his waist. Not that it hadn’t ever crossed her mind.
When she came back with his t-shirt she found him sprawled on his back, already sleeping. She picked his slacks up from the floor and folded them neatly, hanging them over the chair. She gave up the idea of putting the t-shirt on him, knowing she couldn’t handle his heavy frame. She removed his socks and threw the bed covers over him. Next she went back to turn off the TV and made sure that the front door was locked.
She slipped under the covers carefully not to disturb him. But the moment she laid down, he rolled over and pulled her to him.
“Don’t go,” he whispered, his lips captured hers.
He tasted of too many cups of coffee. Soon his lips moved from hers, and his face buried in the crook of her throat. Amy drew the covers over both of them, and closed her eyes.
Chapter Ten
“It’s a shame it’s dark already. You can’t see the ocean,” Amy noted wistfully.
She inhaled the ocean’s cool breeze through the open window of the SUV that Jake had rented at the Portland airport.
“You’ll see it first thing tomorrow morning.” Jake smiled at her, and accelerated. “I’ve been assured our suite overlooks the ocean.”
“Don’t speed up,” Amy cautioned wearily.
“I won’t,” he instantly denied.
“But you do,” she stated, sending him one of her I know better glares.
The issue of speed was a constant source of disagreement between them, actually since the first time they’d been together in the car and he had driven. Amy always thought he drove too fast, while he insisted he was just confident.
Jake shook his head sighing with exasperation but at the same time eased his foot off the gas.
Obviously pleased, she smiled at him and said. “I’m glad we decided to come here.”
“Me too,” he assured her warmly, but without taking his eyes from the road.
Amy glanced at him worriedly. “But is it really ok for you to leave everything for the whole weekend after what happened last Wednesday?” she asked referring to the accident at the building site which had taken place a few days ago.
“It’s fine.” His tone indicated self-assurance, “All the work there has stopped till the next week, till I hire a new site manager. There’s no doubt next week will be very busy and I deserve a few moments of peace with my wife.” He glanced at her, his eyes enveloping her in an unspoken caress.
Amy blushed and smiled shyly, before she turned her face away from him. “Look, I think we’re here.” She peered curiously out the window.
Jake slowed the car and leaned over her. “Yeah, it must be it.” He turned into the driveway leading into the well lit white sprawling building.
“It hardly looks like a seacoast cottage,” she noted dryly on entering the elegant lobby. Their bags had been carried upstairs and the car taken to the parking lot.
“Had you counted on one?” Jake asked in a lowered voice as they were approaching the reception desk. “Especially knowing Claire.”
Amy didn’t manage to answer that because she heard her father’s voice crying. “Pumpkin, at last!” In the next moment she was in Thomas Carpenter’s arms.
“Daddy, I missed you so,” Amy whispered, and clung to her father, fighting away tears which instantly came to her eyes, “How are you?” she asked as she took a step from him to have a better look at him.
“I’m good, Amy. I’m good. Don’t I look better?” he smiled, pushing his chest forward.
“You do, Daddy, you really do,” Amy whispered, and she meant it.
The hollow look on his face was gone, as well as the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed well rested and even slightly tanned.
“Amy, no crying,” Thomas chided her, referring to the tears which brimmed his daughter’s eyes. “There’s nothing to cry about.” He turned to his son-in-law who had just come up behind his daughter. “I swear Jake that this girl always had eyes like a watering pot.”
Jake smiled, his arm wrapped around Amy. “I don’t mind.” his lips brushed gently against the top of her head. “It’s good to see you in such good shape, Thomas.” He extended his hand to the older man.
“You too, son.” Thomas all but beamed, shaking the other man’s hand. “I hope she hasn’t given you too much hell during these first few weeks.” he said knowingly as he glanced at his daughter.
Amy frowned and pouted. “Dad.”
But Jake only chuckled softly. “It’s been just fine,” he assured, “Right, sweetheart?” he murmured tenderly as he gathered his wife even closer and gazed down into her hazel eyes.
Amy blinked several times, but didn’t break the eye contact, too enthralled to react to this outward display of tenderness from her husband.
But if she’d looked at her father, she would have seen his pleased expression.
“You’re here!” Amy winced when she heard Claire’s characteristic drawl and the clack of her stiletto shoes against the tile floor. “Thomas was worried you got lost somewhere.”
“We’re fine,” Jake said calmly. “Hello, Claire, nice to see you,” he offered politely, nodding his head, but not making any other gesture to greet her.
“Oh, you too, Jake,” Claire cooed, batting her eyelashes.
“Hello, Claire,” Amy said coolly, her eyes narrowed.
“Amy, daaarling,” Claire drawled. “What a surprise to hear about your wedding!” she exclaimed, her lips spread in a wide smile. She placed two effusive kisses on the cheeks of her stepdaughter, only seven years younger than herself. “That was totally unexpected, you getting married, and in Las Vegas, without telling anybody about it,” she pouted. “Not even inviting the closest family,” she chided, her impossibly long nailed finger wagging threateningly in front of Amy’s face. “That is not done.”
“Actually Claire, Las Vegas was my idea, I wanted to have her all to myself.” Jake looked tenderly down at his wife.
“But of course, Jake.” Claire smiled sweetly at him, and pursed her pink lips. “Of course, I understand, it’s so romantic.” She turned to Amy. “You look pale, dear,” Claire noted with concern and patted her cheek. “You should get some rest.”
“That’s a good idea. We’ll refresh ourselves before dinner,” Jake said quickly.
He took in his wife’s tightly pressed lips and stiff posture, deciding it was high time to leave the scene.
“The food here is really
good,” Thomas agreed, clearly oblivious to the undercurrents between his wife and daughter. “Let’s say we meet in half an hour in a restaurant,” he suggested.
Jake glanced at Amy. “I think forty-five minutes,” he said already taking Amy’s hand and leading her towards the staircase. “That would be nine o’clock sharp.”
Lifting his hand, Thomas cried. “Great, nine o’clock.”
“Did you hear her?” Amy murmured furiously as soon as they were out of earshot. “She’s getting more horrible every time I have the misfortune of seeing her.”
Jake held her hand firmly till they reached their suite. “Yes, I heard her,” he acknowledged calmly as he inserted the card into the door. “But you shouldn’t be surprised. She was her usual self.”
He opened the door, letting her inside.
“Arghhhh.” Amy groaned. She lifted her hands to her head and started pacing the room. “I still cannot believe how my father could marry someone like her!”
“But he did,” Jake said matter-of-factly, as he removed his jacket and threw it on the chair. With a tired sigh, he half lounged on the bed, and closed his eyes.
Amy didn’t stop her pacing. “I know that he did, but please can you explain this to me. Why an intelligent, sensitive man could twice in his life marry such parasites? First my mother who left him without a word with two small children, and now this blond bimbo who cares more about the state of her manicure than of his health. I simply don’t get it.”
Jake sat up, reached for his wife, caught her hand, and pulled her down on the bed beside him.
“I really don’t know what your father was thinking when he married your mother and later Claire.” He smoothed his hand over her arm. “But there must have been something in them that he liked and found attractive enough to make him commit himself to marrying them.”
“But you said yourself that you and my father have much in common. Does it mean that you could imagine yourself marrying someone like Claire, as well?” Amy insisted.
Jake chuckled softly. “I really can’t imagine anything like that. She’s not my type.”
