“You can shave me with a safety razor,” he says finally. “I don’t even feel safe with those other kinds. Used to have a barber who used a straight razor. But never again,” he says with a grimace.
“What happened?” I ask, gasping in shock, already hoping he was okay.
“Oh, nothing. He was a master at it, but when he retired he left the business to his son who was more skilled at chopping meat than shaving a gentleman the old fashioned way.”
I laugh a little at the mental image. Picturing Blake a century or more ago, foamed up with soap and being shaved like they used to.
“I didn’t know they still did that,” I admit, shuddering with fear at the female version of the same type of shave.
Being shaved down there, or anywhere for that matter with one of those things? No thanks.
“It’s a lost art like I said. But you can use the baby razor, anytime,” he smiles again, giving me a little wink. Making me feel like a million dollars just by looking at me.
The suite comes with a full personal care kit for each guest, male and female, so I have a new brush and more stuff than I’d ever even buy myself.
“All this comes with the suite?” I ask, noting the brand names inside the case.
“Oh that stuff, yep,” Blake says casually, talking down the men’s stuff they usually give him.
“You always stay in the presidential suite?” I ask, making him laugh again.
“No, but I usually have one of the better rooms. With what they charge...” he starts, but I can tell he’s stopping himself from saying anything about money for my benefit.
I know he can afford it and so does he.
He doesn’t want me to feel more awkward than I already do about the suite, the clothes. Dinner, about everything so far.
“We’ll be home soon anyway. Tonight if you’d prefer it?” he asks, and I feel a new thrill in my chest.
Something I never really thought about, Blake’s real home.
“You do have a home then?” I ask, feeling stupid for asking but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“I do, but you and your dad have reminded me I need to maybe spend less time there and locked away at work and more out and about in the world.”
“How could I possibly make you realize that?” I ask.
“Because wherever I am with you is always better, always special,” he says without having to think, and he kisses the top of my wet hair asking how I finish it off.
“I just let it dry,” I tell him with a shrug.
“Ah, well that’s easily fixed,” he murmurs, looking a little disappointed but contenting himself to wait for it to dry.
“So where is home for Blake Mason?” I ask, dying to know now.
“I hope it’ll be our home too,” he says before explaining he has several.
“Or is it too soon for that kind of talk?” he asks, concerned about even saying it.
I shake my head, letting him know I feel the same way he does.
“Wherever you go, I’ll go,” I tell him truthfully.
“Then we can head back tonight. I don’t mind hotels, but there’s nothing like sleeping in your own bed.”
With years away at college and the memory of my lumpy old mattress at my dad’s, I can’t wait to see just where Blake sleeps.
Can’t wait to make it our bed.
Our home.
Us.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Two weeks later…
Krystal
“You’re not still crossing that thing off are you?” Blake asks me, creasing his mouth in mild annoyance that I’d even be counting the days.
I’ve taken my dad to task and using one of Blake’s seemingly endless supplies of calendars from his office supplies, I’m marking off each day together we have with a bold red X.
I still can’t believe he even thought Blake and I wouldn’t last two weeks, let alone tell me to my face.
“Today’s the last one, I promise.” I chirp, “Actually, tomorrow will be. That way it’s more than two weeks,” I murmur.
Blake doesn’t approve, but he doesn’t stop me from marking it off either.
The past two weeks feel more like two years in some ways but only two minutes in others.
Blake showed me his suburbs home first, which I’ve just fallen in love with.
He calls it ‘the suburbs’ but it’s more like a mansion in the hills on the edge of town overlooking the city.
The nearest neighbor must be half a mile away, but I prefer it to his city penthouse or the apartment above his offices downtown.
“There’s a holiday house or two as well,” he’s told me, but I had to hold my hands up.
A girl can only have so many choices so quickly.
I like it here though, and tonight’s the night I’ve made sure we have dad around for dinner.
Not only to prove my point about Blake and me lasting but wanting to let both dad and Blake know that I’m staying put.
“Officially moved in” I like to call it and I know I’ve already told Blake because he kept asking me about it, but I want him to be there when I tell my dad too.
Plus I know Blake wants to talk to dad about his job offer, which I know dad’s been researching. If it was anyone else, he would have agreed to the job on the spot, but dad being dad he’s still grumbling about the whole me and Blake thing.
We both know he’ll come around, warm to the idea but it’s up to dad really, not something we can force him to accept.
Blake’s cooking up a storm as I mark off the calendar in the kitchen, and he asks me if I’m going to show it off to my dad.
“No, I won’t embarrass you with it,” I remind him, hugging him from behind and squeezing him as he prepares some of our meal in advance.
I feel him shrug, pretending it doesn’t bug him.
“What is for dinner?” I ask, hoping to change the subject but he feigns even more upset because I can’t tell already.
He’s crumbing something, I can see that but I tell myself I’ll let it be a surprise and set to work unpacking the camera gear I finally collected from home.
Hoping I can start my new album of photos with some happy snaps of tonight’s dinner with dad.
If it is a happy dinner with dad…
Blake’s promised to try his hardest and not let anything dad might do or say upset him.
And he’s made me promise the same thing because we both know I’m the one most likely to say something to upset him.
It’s unusual for Blake to leave me on my own for so long, but he wants things just right for dinner and I’m lost in my photography by the time I hear the front door and notice the time.
“Nothing fancy,” Dad insisted, so we’ve made a point of not dressing up. At least not like we do when Blake takes me out for dinner.
Blake’s in jeans and a sweater. I’m the same, but it’s dad who surprises us both by turning up with a new suit on and a bottle of wine, which Blake politely accepts and opens, leaving it on the dinner table. Both of us know we won’t be having any.
Dad seems gloomier than usual for some reason, making my plan for some happy snaps a disaster until I finally ask him what’s wrong once Blake clears our soup course.
“It’s nothing sweetie,” he mumbles, patting my hand. “Just work stuff,” he tells me but I can tell it’s not just work stuff.
Blake’s picked up on dad’s mood as well and has deliberately avoided mentioning the job offer for now.
He’ll keep it open for as long as dad needs, but at the same time he’s not gonna chase dad down for an answer.
Blake doesn’t operate like that.
With no change in dad’s mood right before Blake’s big surprise main course, I whisper to dad to lighten up.
“Whatever it is, deal with it after you get home,” I whisper quickly, hoping Blake can’t hear me from the kitchen.
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard already,” dad announces, just as Blake enters with the star of his dinne
r.
“What’s that then, haven’t heard what?” Blake asks, setting down a steaming plate in front of each of us.
I’m about to change the topic, drawing the focus on the amazing food Blake’s prepared tonight, but he really seems more interested in what my dad has to say than the food.
“Our neighbor. The one who’s been missing for so long?” Dad finally says, choosing to tell me rather than even look in Blake’s direction.
I feel myself moving towards the edge of my seat, the long silence that follows almost unbearable.
“Well?” I ask impatiently, expecting the worst. Like he was found washed up on shore somewhere or retrieved from the insides of some wild animal.
But no. Nothing so gruesome.
“He’s fine. Perfectly fine,” my dad growls, throwing down his napkin, seeming to be put off his food by the mention of what he knows he has to tell us both now.
“C’mon, Jack,” Blake coaxes him. “Out with it.” He orders him in a friendly tone, not minding his food is playing second to dad’s story now.
Quite the opposite, he looks like he’s dying to find out what happened as much as I am.
“He was never missing at all,” Dad mumbles, and Blake asks him to repeat himself, which my dad does, almost shouting it as his face gets that sour look all over again.
“That’s great news, isn’t it?” I ask him, wondering why he’d be so upset his friend and neighbor has been found or come home safe and well.
“Oh, it’s a relief I suppose,” He groans. “It’s what he’s brought back with him that bothers me. Might be more up your street than mine,” he grumbles aside to Blake.
“What do you mean?” Blake asks him, studying his expression carefully, but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh let alone hide the smile playing on his lips.
Blake already knows I can tell. But I don’t.
“Dad? Just tell me for god’s sake, our dinner’s getting cold.”
With a huge sigh, my dad relates the whole episode.
“If you’d been on time to pick him up, none of this would have happened,” my dad observes, making Blake finally beam his smile but leaving me feeling taken aback.
“Nate Macy was waiting at International arrivals when some young girl, a tourist from Sweden or somewhere who was on the plane appeared to have lost all her luggage and cards in transit.”
I look from my dad to Blake, who shrugs back at me. A sudden twinkle in his eye.
“Nate being Nate, he stepped in and offered to help. Forgetting all about having to be picked up himself and actually leaving his luggage behind at the terminal as well,” My dad continues.
Nothing earth shattering so far.
“So how did he go missing?” I ask, not waiting for the story to finish, and taking a bite of the crumbed steak Blake’s made, which makes me let out a sound of total satisfaction.
“Sorry dad, but Blake. This is amazing, I had no idea you were so talented in the kitchen,” I lie. Remembering how he had me over the bench and then on the breakfast table only last night.
Blake bows his head in appreciation before urging my dad to go on with his story, making out like it’s the most incredible thing he’s heard all year.
“Turns out he took this girl for a drink or a coffee, whatever someone does to try and calm a foreign traveler who’s lost everything down…”
I think I can guess what’s coming next, based on Blake’s knowing look, but no. I’d never have seen it coming.
“Well, in a nutshell, they both hit it off, too well. And rather than mope around for her luggage he booked them into the hotel at the airport for one night before jetting off with her to the Cayman’s the next morning. No phones or internet, just sandy beach and well… you can imagine the rest.”
I almost choke on my mouthful of food.
“So he met a girl and went on an extended trip without telling anyone, what’s the harm in that?” I finally ask after swallowing a mouthful of water.
“Because she’s less than half his age and they’ve just gone and damned well got married, that’s what!” My dad cries out, throwing his hands up in the air.
He looks from me to Blake, then back to me again, scowling as we both start to laugh before he sees the funny side of it all too.
It takes a minute or so, but in the end, even dad has to have a laugh about it all, even just a little one before his face falls again.
He looks pale as Blake and I continue to giggle over the whole story.
“You aren’t?” he stammers in my direction. “I mean, you two aren’t planning on...” he adds, looking ill until Blake puts him out of his misery.
“No, Jack. No news like that. We just think it’s funny how things turned out, and how age doesn’t seem to get in the way of true love for more than just Krystal and me either,” he remarks.
My dad mops his brow with a napkin, not seeming to recover when I tell him it’s also Blake and I’s second week anniversary.
Dad gulps hard, smiling feebly, and quickly changes the subject. Back to work of all things, and he and Blake spend the rest of the meal planning his employment as the new head of accounting.
At one point my dad has to use the bathroom, leaving Blake and me alone.
I feel Blake’s foot working its way up the inside of my thigh, pushing my legs open.
I gasp and shoot him a ‘not now’ look, but it doesn’t seem to stop him.
“And just how much of that story did you already know?” I ask him, curious about the whole story.
“I heard it on the news today in the kitchen. Most of it anyway… I had no idea they were getting married though,” Blake says, cocking a brow suggestively.
“Ha! Next thing she’ll be pregnant and then what will dad do?” I laugh, absently running my hand over my belly under the table.
Figuring tonight might not be the best time to talk about a lot of things, not just what really happened to dad’s newest neighbor.
“I love you, Blake Mason,” I tell him. Filing the conversation away for later. Maybe later tonight in bed, or maybe in a few more weeks. We’ll see.
“And I love you, Krystal Carter,” he growls in his deepest voice, probing me with his foot and making me jump just as dad reappears.
“Everything alright?” My dad asks, noting my flushed face and Blake’s knowing smile.
“Never better, Jack. Never better,” Blake replies. Mouthing the words I love you to me again when my dad’s not looking.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Blake
It’s the most nervous I’ve ever felt. And none of them my own.
I can’t wait to have Krystal walk down the aisle, to claim her again, really claim her properly by making her, my wife.
It’s her dad Jack who’s a bundle of nerves. First, he’s mixed up the times for the limos, and now he’s frantically calling me telling me he’s lost the rings.
Not like him at all, he’s a real gun at work. His new position as head of accounting for me is the best thing I’ve ever done, and he’s so keen on his new salary he’s insisted on paying for the whole wedding.
That’s what I’m having Krystal tell him is happening anyway. He’ll be getting a hefty bonus come Christmas time, and that’ll be the end of that.
A stickler for tradition, Jack’s biggest must-have was that Krystal and I not see each other before the wedding day.
Having not been apart for more than an hour or two for the past several months, we both knew it would be hard.
But for me, it’s past some traditional nonsense, and I’m more eager than ever to exchange our vows so we never have to be apart like this again ever.
The rings are found, and with what I sense is Krystal’s help, the limos are on time with a few simple phone calls.
Something I thought Jack could handle, but seeing his only daughter about to be given away for good seems to be taking its toll on him.
All’s forgiven and forgotten though as soon as th
at organ starts to play the bridal chorus, giving me shivers as I force myself not to turn around and peek.
Krystal’s set up her own video cameras, and hired a couple of her old college classmates to photograph her big day at my request.
I want to see everything I’m not allowed to right now.
I want to watch my bride as she walks towards me, want to see her face, her dress. Everything.
And she’ll get to see me, waiting like a good groom should.
Reclaiming what’s already his. Making it a formal and proper thing, something I insisted on if we’re going to have a family someday.
I won’t have kids born out of wedlock, I told her. I don’t know why she found it so amusing, but she agreed to marry me without any real surprise on her part.
We’ve already made our pact to each other with our bodies, now we’ll do the same with our spirits. Before the holiest of all witnesses.
It’s the same church, the same priest who married her dad and baptized Krystal before her mom left Jack on his own with her.
The same church was Krystal’s idea, and I’m not sure if the ancient padre has a tear in his eye or they’re just watery with age.
Krystal and I also agreed to have Jack give her away as well as be the best man.
It’s a proud moment for him to see his only daughter wed, but I can see there’s a sadness too. At not having his wife here to see their baby girl all grown up. But also because he really is giving her away.
Her own life ahead of her, our life together. Her own family at some point in the future.
Our family.
He’s a part of it already, but I kinda feel for Jack. He’s a good man.
Our vows are traditional, with only the emotion in her voice and the conviction in mine making them stand out from anyone else who might happen to read or even say the same words.
When it comes time for each of us to say “I do,” I feel like a new man again. Like we’re re-living our first moment and our first night together, all in one phrase.
Slipping the ring over her trembling finger and watching her hands put a ring on mine, I kiss her like I’ve never kissed her before.
Not My Neighbor: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 12
