by T L Swan
Locked. Surprise. But why is it always locked? My mind goes back to that dreadful day when I made a fool of myself. Alastar locked it before he left as if he didn’t want me to see inside. What does he keep in there that is so damn private? I put my ear up to the door to see if I can hear anything, I pull back and smile. What are you going to hear down there, idiot?
I walk back into the kitchen and make myself a coffee and start my chopping duties. I feel him before I see him. Large loving hands slink around my waist from behind and his lips fall on my neck.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he whispers against my face.
I smile broadly. “Good morning, Twinkle.”
“What’s cooking?” he mumbles.
I turn and face him. That accent is so fucking hot. “Spanish Omelet.”
He winks. “A personal favourite.”
I kiss him gently on the lips. “Mine, too.” I turn back to the coffee machine. “How do you like your coffee?” I ask. I need to learn this shit. I don’t even know how he takes his coffee.
His mischievous eyes hold mine. “Black and strong.”
“Oh.” I turn back to the coffee machine. I’ve never made a strong black coffee before. Wonder how you do that? I stand for a moment and read all of the buttons. I feel Alastar’s arms go around me again from behind. “Do you know how to make that?” He smirks.
“Of course I do.” Shit, I have no fucking idea.
“Here.” He comes around and takes over. “This one here.” He points to a button. “Push it twice, and then when it comes down just add a little cold water.” He moves to the tap and puts a little cold water into his cup. “Or else you will burn my lips.”
I smirk as I watch him take a sip of his foul tasting coffee. How does he drink it like that? This poor bastard has no idea what he is getting himself into here. I can’t even make fucking black coffee. He takes a seat at the counter and I serve up our breakfast.
“Thank you.” He smiles as I pass it over.
I smile proudly. I can’t cook for shit, but I know I make a mean breakfast. I sit next to him at the bench and take a large mouthful.
He notices a key on the bench and he slides it over to me. “I got you a key cut yesterday.”
I frown around my full mouth. “Why?” I continue to chew.
“Well, you need a key to your own house.”
I swallow my food whole. “Twinkle.” I hesitate, I don’t want this to come out the wrong way and sound ungrateful. “I can’t move in here permanently.”
He puts his knife and fork down with a clang. “Why not?’
I shake my head. God, this man is all or nothing. “Because it’s a damn hex on our relationship, me moving in with you when we don’t even know each other properly yet.”
He frowns, horrified. “We know each other.”
“Alastar...” I sigh.
He smiles sexily and cups my face in his hand. “I don’t want to be away from you for a moment.” He lips gently dust over mine. Who am I kidding? I don’t want to be anywhere else, either. I pull back from his kiss.
“I will stay with you for a little while to see how it goes. A couple of weeks, maybe.” His eyes hold mine.
“And I would like to pay rent, please.”
He frowns. “No.”
“Alastar.”
“I’m not accepting rent from you. I want you to live here as my girlfriend, not a fucking tenant.”
“Ali.”
“Stop fucking Ali-ing me,” he snaps.
God, I turn back to my breakfast. Frigging hell, talk about overreacting.
“You will be living here as my girlfriend. You will not be paying anything and I will not have it any other way. Discussion over.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. The bossy bastard is peeking his head back in. “Don’t tell me the discussion is over, Alastar. I’m not your daughter.”
He pushes his food into his mouth from his fork. “I know that. So don’t make me discipline you.”
I smirk around my fork. “Stop talking now. That big mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble.”
“You stop talking.” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. This conversation is going nowhere. I’m not going to win and he is not backing down. I will change the subject. “So, we are going to your parents this weekend still?”
His face instantly softens. “Yes.”
I smile. “Fun,” I whisper nervously.
“It’s going to be cold. You will need to buy some warmer clothes.” He stands and goes to his wallet and retrieves a card. “I got this for you yesterday.” He slides it across the bench to me and I frown.
It’s a credit card with the name Emerson Mathews on it. Huh?
“What the hell?” I frown as my eyes meet his. “You don’t need to buy me things.”
“I know, baby. I want to.”
This is getting out of hand. “Alastar.” He wraps his arms around me and kisses my face.
“I have money. Please… let me,” he pleads.
My eyes hold his and I slide the card back to him.
“I don’t need nice things, Twinkle. I’m not materialistic.” I sigh.
He kisses me gently on the lips. “I know you are not, and believe me, it’s such an endearing quality of yours. But I need you to have nice things. I want to spoil you. I don’t want you to want for anything.”
“I can buy them for myself,” I reply.
“I want to buy them.”
“Why?”
“I just do,” he replies. “I want you to stay here in London and I want you to be happy. You have left everything in Australia for me and I am going to make sure I look after you.”
“I didn’t leave Australia for you. I came here with my own free will.”
His face drops.
I can tell this means a lot to him. I begrudgingly take the card and kiss him gently on the lips. “Thank you,” I whisper as my hands rub through his two-day growth. His beautiful eyes watch me. “Look after me. That’s all I want. The money means nothing.” I smile gratefully.
He kisses me and his tongue sweeps gently through my mouth. “I do love you, Emmaline,” he whispers into my mouth.
I smile broadly. “And I love you, my Irish Fiasco.”
* * *
The day at the work is dreary until I am summoned to Mark’s office to see the detectives.
Knock, knock.
“Come in,” calls Mark.
I swallow the nervous lump in my throat. The two men who were sitting stand to shake my hand.
“This is Detective Peters and Detective Sloan,” Mark introduces them.
“Hello.” I nervously shake their hands.
“Please take a seat.”
I sit down.
“We have been investigating the artwork that you noticed was missing and have a few leads that we wanted to share with you.”
“Oh, great.” I smile. I was hoping they would keep me in the loop. “What have you found?” I ask.
“We agree with you. This is more than likely an inside job.” My eyes widen as Mark interjects. “You can’t think it is anyone from here, surely?”
“Perhaps,” one of the officer’s replies.
“Or perhaps it is someone that is circulating the scene constantly.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, on further investigation, we have found that four auction sites have been targeted.”
“Oh, really?” Mark frowns.
“Yes. So it isn’t someone who is exclusive to just this establishment,” says one officer. “However, it is surrounded by the weirdest set of circumstances. Some of the paintings that have been stolen have no street value at all, and it seems that any valuable piece of artwork that was stolen has had insurance.”
I frown. “But if there is no street value, why would they be getting stolen?” I ask.
The two detectives shrug. “We have no idea.”
“What can we do to help?” asks Mark.
“If you see anything suspicious at all, please call us immediately.” The officers both stand and we all shake hands.
“Thank you for coming.” Mark smiles and the officers leave.
Mark’s attention turns to me. “We are going to catch this asshole, and when we do, it will be me and you who brings them to justice.”
I smile broadly. “I can’t wait.”
I take a seat back at my desk and look around at my coworkers. Shit, it could be anyone here. I tap my pen against my desk nervously and check the time on my computer. 12.40pm. Twenty minutes until I get to see Brelly. I’m missing her. I have so much to tell her and I am dying to hear what that flog Julian Masters is up to.
“Oh, she’s over at this desk,” I hear someone call.
I look up to see a deliveryman carrying a huge colorful flower arrangement.
“Emerson Mathews?” he asks.
I bite my bottom lip to stifle my stupid smile. “Yes.”
“I have a delivery for you.”
My excited eyes fly around to Travis and he shakes his head in disgust.
“Sign here.”
I quickly sign and take the huge bouquet from him. “Thank you.” I inhale their beautiful scent. I have never received flowers before. Liam was too tight to ever have anything delivered.
I open the small white envelope and read the card.
Because of Us.
Forever your love,
Alastar
Xx
I put my hand on my heart. Oh my God.
Because of us.
What does that mean? Oh, I love it, whatever it means.
“What does it say?” Travis sighs.
I get all teary. “It says because of us.”
Travis screws up his face. “What’s that fucking supposed to mean?”
Deidre screws up her face. “Hmm, random.”
“Whatever happened to you’re hot?” Travis shakes his head in disgust. “How are normal fucking guys supposed to keep up with this shit?”
I smile broadly. “It means I am going out with a deep and absolutely perfect man.” I sigh dreamily.
“Is this the guy from the bar?” Deirdre asks.
“Uh-huh.” I sigh as I swing my chair side to side. That’s it. Life complete. Because of us is the dreamiest message I ever heard of.
I immediately take out my phone and text Alastar.
Because of Us.
I love you.
xx
The drive from the airport to Alastar’s parents seems to be taking forever. It’s Friday night and we have just made the flight from London. I’m as nervous as hell. I don’t know why. Alastar is freaking perfect, so his parents must be nice. We have had the most beautiful week together. We have laughed and laughed and my trepidation at moving in with him seems a distant memory. I cook breakfast, he drives me to work, and we kiss on our corner like lovesick teenagers as we try and say goodbye to each other for the day. After work, he picks me up and we cling to each other once more before we go home. He cooks a magical dinner, and then we make love all night.
I’m getting used to his mansion of a house, his OCD, perfectionist ways, and his beautiful body wrapped around mine as we sleep. We have become inseparable.
Life is good. Really fucking good.
We finally pull into a driveway and he comes around to open the door for me. It’s dark and the house is on a large plot of land it seems. It’s a farmhouse from what I can tell. A dog barks to announce our arrival.
“Are you ready, my love?” Alastar asks me gently.
I nod as my heart tries to escape my chest. “I’m nervous. What if they don’t like me?”
He leans into the car and kisses me gently. “They will love you.”
Getting out of the car, I make my way up the path with my hand in his, and the front door opens in a rush. His parents appear and they both call out in excitement. “Hello.”
“Hello, boy,” his father calls.
“Hello, Pa.” Alastar laughs out loud as he grabs him in an embrace, and then moves over to his mother.
I smile broadly at his obvious affection for his parents.
He turns to me and holds his hand toward me. “This is Emmaline,” he announces proudly.
“Hello.” I smile nervously as their attention turns to me. I feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment.
“Ahh.” His father pulls me into an embrace. “Lovely to meet you, lass.”
His mother stands back and smiles softly, and then comes over to me and grabs my face between her two hands.
Her eyes are wise and caring. “You are she,” she whispers with wonder.
Huh? What does that mean? Gosh, they talk in riddles.
“You are she,” she whispers again.
My eyes glance to Alastar while his eyes linger lovingly on my face. “Aye, Momma. This is she.”
Chapter 22
She places both of her hands onto her chest. “Emmaline, I am so happy you finally came. We have been waiting for you.”
I smile stupidly at Alastar and he throws me a cheeky wink. We follow them through the darkness and back up the path that leads us into the farmhouse. The house is two stories and old—exactly what I would imagine a farmhouse in Ireland to look like. My eyes look around at the beautiful surroundings. It’s warm with an open fire and country style furnishings. The smell of something amazing cooking fills the room. The atmosphere is loving and inviting. Alastar squeezes my hand in reassurance and I squeeze it back.
“Let me show you up to your room, Emmaline,” his mother says gently.
“Thank you.” I smile. She’s so nice. She’s shorter than me, with curly grey hair that sits just below her collar. Her face is gentle and wise. She’s curvy and big breasted like me. I like her already. She grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs, along the landing with Alastar following us with our suitcases.
“Do you want to stay with Alastar in his room?” she asks innocently.
Oh… crap. I do but I want to pretend to be pure. Hmm, trick question time.
“Aye, Momma, she’s staying with me.” Alastar interrupts from behind us.
She smiles cheekily at him over her shoulder. “She might not want to stay with you, son.”
“She does,” he replies dryly.
Her mischievous eyes dance with delight as they turn to me.
“Umm.” I glance at Alastar. What am I supposed to say in this situation? I don’t want her to know we are bonking like rabbits every chance we get. “I will stay where you want me to stay, Mrs O’Shea,” I answer quietly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
She smiles warmly. “What a lovely answer, but I’m only teasing. You can stay with Alastar. He won’t want to be away from you for a moment, and please, call me Connie.”
I smile bashfully. Was that a test? Did I pass? Truth be known, I would have made him sneak into my room as soon as the lights went out, anyway. She opens the door to the room at the end of the hallway. It’s large with a multicolored bedspread and lampshades on the side tables next that sit next to the bed.
“This is Alastar’s room,” she announces proudly.
I smile at her, and then him. It’s blatantly obvious she adores her son. “It’s lovely, thank you.” Alastar walks past me and into the room with our ridiculously expensive matching suitcases. He bought me new luggage through the week to match his. Even my makeup case is matching. His neat fetish is very real.
“Freshen up and I will see you both downstairs.” She smiles warmly. She wraps her arms around Alastar and holds him close. “Oh, I have missed you, son.”
“Me, too, momma. I’m home now.” He smiles as she puts her head on his chest and I watch them embrace for a moment.
Sadness sweeps over me. What must it be like to have a child move away from home? For the first time since I got back with Al
astar, I miss my mum. She leaves the room and then Alastar smiles and takes me in his arms. “Thank you,” he whispers.
“What for?”
His eyes hold mine. “For coming home with me. It means a lot to my parents.”
I smile. “It means a lot to me, too.”
He kisses me gently on the lips. “And me.”
I pull back to look at him. “I wish you could meet my mum and dad.”
“I will,” he replies.
I stand for a moment as my eyes search his.
“I promise,” he whispers as he kisses me again and pulls out of my arms and flops onto the bed.
I smile. I like that he promised to meet my parents. Maybe we really are going to plan a future. “What are you doing? We are going straight downstairs, aren’t we?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, we need to christen this bed.” He pats it hard three times. “I have never had sex in my parents’ house. It’s been on my bucket list for forever.” He widens his eyes in excitement.
I stare at him in horror. “You never had sex at your parents’ house?” I frown.
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because when I lived here I was too young to have girls stay and my mother was always bloody home through the day. Since I have been coming home to visit, I have never bought a girl back here.”
My eyebrows rise. “I’m the first?” I bend to cup his face and lean in as I slowly kiss his lips. “I love that I’m your first.” I smile. This is the most delicious piece of information he has shared with me today.
“So do I,” he whispers back.
“But…” I grin. “We are not christening this bed.” I hit it hard with my hand to mimic him. “We are not even having sex this weekend. I am not going to let your parents think I’m a sex-crazed bitch. I want to impress them, Alastar.”
“I want you to impress me, and besides, I want them to know the real you. The sex maniac you,” he whispers. “She’s much more fun than this frigid version.”
I smirk and open the door. “Downstairs… now,” I mouth.
