by Harlow James
“I don’t like you working there, knowing there are scumbags like Henry who can make you feel uncomfortable. The idea of you walking to your car tonight, knowing he could have been waiting in the parking lot for you made my stomach twist in knots.”
“Tony always walks me to my car,” I explain as I sit down next to him, the smell of beer and fried food still apparent on my clothes.
“I know. But it still made me worried. You don’t need to be there when you could be here with me.” His palm finds my cheek as I melt into his touch.
“You should have talked to me about it first, instead of just telling Tony tonight was my last shift.”
“You’re right,” he nods. “But he just laughed at me anyway and told me it was ultimately your choice.”
“Tony’s a smart man. Understands women.”
“I’ve forgotten a lot I used to know about women…” Luke’s eyes narrow at me, like he’s studying every detail about my face.
“Well, let me enlighten you. Don’t make decisions for a woman without talking to her first, even if you’re trying to protect her. I appreciate you wanting to do that for me, but I’m a big girl and can handle myself. I’ve done that for a very long time.”
“Okay.”
“With that being said, if me working at Tony’s bothers you that much, I can consider quitting after I start school. But the money I’m making there will help me pay for books and parking, among other things when the time comes.”
“I’ll give you a raise.”
I can’t help but chuckle at his quick response. “You don’t need to do that, and I can’t ask you to. I’m fine. My father keeps depositing money in my account anyway, even though I told him not to.”
Brushing a loose strand of hair from my face as his finger trails the shell of my ear, he scoots closer to me. “I’d love to meet your parents one day.”
“I’d love for that too.”
Before I can speak another word, his lips are on mine and our kiss becomes frantic in an instant. Luke crawls over me, grinding his erection between my legs as my body ignites, warming up to the idea that sex with Luke is just on the horizon.
“I want you, Rachel,” he growls in my ear. “I think I’m ready for that.”
“Now?” I push him off of me slightly so I can see his eyes.
He shakes his head. “No. Tomorrow. I want to wine and dine you first, treat you like the lady you are, show you the details of a relationship you deserve. And then…”
“Yes.” My response comes out breathlessly as I pull his mouth back to mine and we continue to grind against each other before relenting to the need to separate before we skip our date and fuck each other senseless.
Relaxing in bed after a shower and a change of clothes, I ease the ache between my legs while imaging what sex will be like with Luke, the thoughts doing nothing but making me more on edge as I await tomorrow night anxiously.
Chapter 19
Luke
I’m going on a date, for the first time since I was in my early twenties. As I knot my tie and check my reflection in the mirror, I focus on trying to stifle my nerves for what awaits me later this evening.
Rachel and I have been seeing each other behind closed doors since the end of April, and here it is, the middle of June, several months since she entered our lives and awakened the dormant organ in my chest. My heart has only beat for one woman and my son since she passed. But now, he’s taken on a rhythm of his own that beats for Rachel. It’s foreign and scary, yet unorthodox—kind of like jazz music. But it also feels right, even though I’m desperately trying to find a sign from Hannah that this is what I’m supposed to be doing.
The echoes of our promise to move on in the event of death have been the driving force challenging me to open up to Rachel entirely. I know I care about her, I love spending time with her, and I admire how selflessly she takes care of my son. And the more I touch her and find every soft spot on her body that makes her writhe, the more I want to bury myself inside of her.
But tonight I’m going to walk outside of my home with another woman on my arm, the thought making me proud and yet still doubting myself. No matter how strong my feelings grow for Rachel, fear eats at me that I’m going to hurt her—that there’s going to be an instance that causes me to act irrationally again, like what I did on Mother’s Day.
I don’t want to think that way, but the risk of opening my heart again leaves me vulnerable and questioning myself. And then I also think about Rachel, how she must feel knowing that there’s this other woman that will always be between us. I know Hannah is not coming back, but her memory will live on forever, and I just hope it’s not so powerful that it tears us apart.
“You can do this,” I exhale, running gel through my thick hair that I just got cut earlier this morning. Wanting to look my best tonight, I spent this morning getting in an early workout session while Rachel slept in, and then headed to my barber. A neat trim of my hair made me feel fresh and ready for what the night may bring. I told Rachel last night that I think I’m ready to jump over that final hurdle. But I also know that the confidence I felt yesterday could change over the course of the evening. Right now, the goal is just to play it by ear.
Tucking my navy blue button down into my dark grey slacks and then straightening my tie, I check my teeth for food and then smile in the mirror at myself, pleased with my appearance. I make my way into the living room and kitchen, where the bouquet of roses I bought earlier for Rachel is resting in a vase. I hid them from her earlier so I could surprise her tonight.
And as if on cue, the soft steps of her heels against the carpet pull my eyes to the hallway as the gorgeous woman who’s bringing me back to life comes strutting towards me—her curves encased in a red, hip-hugging dress that scoops just low enough in the front to show off her amazing breasts, the sleeves draping on her upper arms, exposing her shoulders and entire collarbone, her long legs stretching down to the heels that I can imagine her keeping on as I pound into her, and her thick and silky hair down in soft curls around her face, which isn’t typical for her because she almost always has her hair pulled up. When her eyes find me, her mouth breaks open into that smile that drew me to her almost instantly, and I feel my breath hitch and my heart clunk in my ribcage.
“You look stunning,” I say as I close the distance between us.
She reaches up and swivels my tie before pulling the fabric so my mouth is within an inch of hers. “You look mouthwatering yourself,” she smirks before planting a chaste kiss on my lips.
“Don’t say stuff like that or we will never leave.”
She giggles. “No way. You owe me a date and the expectation is pret-ty high,” she replies, pushing away from me as she shoves her hair behind her neck.
“Now I’m even more nervous,” I tease.
“Don’t be. I’m just excited.” Veering around me, she notices the roses on the island. “Are these for me?” She bends at the waist to smell them, closing her eyes as I hear the intake of air through her nose.
“Yes. I hope you like them.”
“They’re beautiful. And I love the color.” Her fingers brush the petals as she takes in the blended hues of pink, yellow, and orange. They reminded me of the sunset the other night that graced the sky behind her while we were having dinner at my parent’s house.
“I thought they were unique, just like you.”
She playfully rests her hand on my chest as she leans into me. “With those smooth lines, you just might get lucky later, Mr. Henderson.”
The growl that travels up my throat is clear as day when I hear her call me a name reserved for my students, shocking me that maybe that’s a fetish I didn’t know I had.
Giggling while she grabs her purse, I follow her to the door before we make our way out to my car. I open the passenger door for her like a gentleman, settle into my seat, and then head for the new spot in town that is sure to wow her tonight. We arrive about twenty minutes later just as the sun sets in the
sky.
“What is this place?” She asks as I help her from the car, her hand resting assuredly in mine. Closing the door, I turn to face the building with my arm around her, admiring the architecture.
Erected from steel and protruding from the roof of the warehouse-looking building is an enormous tree, branches stretching hundreds of feet in the air with stark beams of light protruding through the spaces, turning in the sky like spot lights. The front of the structure has floor to ceiling windows separated by chrome beams that provide a view of the inside, which looks even more spectacular than the vision in front of us.
“It’s the newest restaurant in town, just opened last week. The chef and owner is an up-and-coming protégé of Michele Stone.” Michele Stone is a famous chef that lives in Los Angeles, but owns restaurants all over the country. He’s like a Gordon Ramsey doppelganger, producing his own competitive cooking television show and everything.
“Wow. This guy must know his stuff then, huh?”
“That’s what the word on the street is.”
“Wonder why he decided to create a place as breathtaking as this in a small town like Emerson Falls?” We glide towards the entrance where the sign The Treehouse hangs above the enormous wooden doors.
“He must have had a reason.” The hostess greets us and I give my name for the reservation. One of the professors I work with knows the head chef and owner, so he pulled some strings and got us in on short notice. Otherwise, the place is booked solid for months already and there would have been no chance of us getting in.
We are quickly ushered to our table as both Rachel and I look up towards the ceiling, admiring the details of the space from the inside. Planted firmly in the center of the restaurant is the trunk of the tree we saw outside, the steel and plaster cut and bent to mimic the cords of real wood. Along with the painting scheme and plants scattered around the room, you feel like you’re in some fairytale forest that exists only in a Disney movie, like Tinkerbell. Sparkling lights that look like stars are scattered on the ceiling and visible through the branches, as well as the sudden flash of the spotlights from outside. Portions of the ceiling are glass so you can see the tree entirely above the roof, and the sound of running water echoes from a fountain in one corner, adorned as a waterfall, completing the visual effects.
“Wow,” Rachel says breathlessly when we arrive at our booth, sliding in the round seat next to me.
“Yeah. This is incredible. Thank you,” I acknowledge the hostess as she hands us our menus and we open them up to browse.
“Everything looks and sounds so good.” Rachel’s eyes dance all over the menu while we wait for our server. Once we’ve ordered our drinks and entrees, we settle into the booth.
“This is so weird—being here with you in public without Grayson as a buffer.”
A small laugh leaves my lips before I take a sip of my wine. “Yeah, it’s definitely odd. I can’t remember the last time I had a meal like this, or a meal without my son in tow.”
“I sure do love that little boy,” Rachel beams.
“I know you do. And he loves you too.”
“Okay, so let’s not talk about Grayson. Let’s have some adult conversation.”
I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Adult conversation, huh?”
Swatting me playfully, she reaches for her wine once she’s finished. “You know what I mean.”
“Okay, tell me more about your family then.”
She takes a sip before speaking. “Well, you know about my dad and his business.” I bob my head up and down, sipping on my drink while I wait for our appetizer. “Well, my mother remained a stay-at-home mom after my dad acquired the business, but made it a point to volunteer for philanthropic entities to give back to those less fortunate than us. She is actually on the board of several non-profit organizations now and is a top volunteer at one of the soup kitchens in the Bronx.”
“That’s amazing,” I concede as Rachel smiles.
“Yeah, she is amazing. Such a selfless woman to have as a role-model. I ended up joining her a lot, which helped solidify for me that I wanted to be a teacher. When I saw little kids with next to nothing or just scraping by, like my family did for so long, it showed me that the job of an educator is one of the most important jobs in the world. Teachers help those children feel safe amongst the chaos.”
“I couldn’t agree more and I love that that is your driving force.”
“Thank you.”
“So what about siblings? I know you’ve told me you have three older brothers,” I push as the waitress arrives with our bacon-wrapped dates. Plucking one from the plate, I hold it out to Rachel as she moves closer to intercept it with her mouth.
“Mmmmm. Oh my gosh,” she moans and mumbles around the sweet and salty mixture of flavors. Taking one for myself, I join in her choir of satisfactory noises as we both chew and then reach for the second helping.
“That was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” she exclaims as she turns to me and I fight an immature grin. “Oh, stop that!”
Laughing, I reach for my wine to cleanse my palette, all the while thinking about how delicious I know Rachel also tastes.
“Okay, so your siblings…” I urge her to continue.
“Yes. I have three older brothers—Ryan, Thomas, and Sean. Growing up with the three of them hovering all the time made for an interesting high school experience.”
“I can only imagine. I was the protective older brother, and I know it drove me nuts when boys would look at Tenley the wrong way.”
She huffs. “Well, multiply that times three and you can imagine what I went through. Of course, most of the guys that we ran with in our social circles were the type that were polite and sophisticated in front of people, and then were really liars behind the scenes. Like Pfeiffer’s ex, for example.” I recall Cash filling me in on Piper’s entire story one time at the coffee shop, even though I was still at the station for part of it. The woman was manipulated by him and sacrificed as leverage in an underground gambling arrangement, definitely helping me understand what Rachel was talking about.
“During college I actually dated a bit, but no one really was worth introducing to my family. Especially Ryan. He’s the worst of them all.”
I tilt my head in wonder. “Do you think he’d like me?”
She purses her lips and then slowly grins. “Yeah, I think he would.”
“Why?”
“Because…” she starts before she scoots closer. “You are hardworking and a family man, which shows you’re not afraid of commitment. And your devotion to your son makes you extremely attractive.”
“Is this why he would like me, or why you like me?” I tease as she closes in on my mouth.
“Both.” We connect our lips as water falls behind us, the sound of crickets chirping echoes in the restaurant, and the clatter of dishes all waft in and out of the background. Our kiss is short-lived though, as our waitress arrives with our soup, and then the other three courses we ordered, our eyes clearly bigger than our stomachs.
“So there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” she mumbles around a mouthful of food.
“Okay…”
“Where are Hannah’s parents, or her family in general? I’ve obviously met yours, but I realized after dinner the other night, I’ve never heard you talk about them.”
I finish chewing and then reply. “Well, they live in Arizona, where she was from. They are actually coming out in a few weeks after the Fourth of July, so thanks for reminding me. They visit once a year to see Grayson, but I think anything more than that just makes them sad. She was their only child.” The high I was just feeling during the night is quickly diminished with that question.
“Oh, okay. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I was just wondering.” She looks away like a kid who just got scolded by their parent.
“No, no… it’s alright. I understand your need to know. I honestly don’t worry about them too much because we�
��ve had the same arrangement for years. They like their life in Arizona and Hannah stayed here in Oregon after she graduated from college, so the space has been the normal.”
“It’s nice they at least get to see Grayson though, and vice versa.” She sips her wine and then pushes one plate aside before grabbing the next.
“Yeah, but I have to remind him of who they are each summer. Now that he’s getting older, I’m sure he’ll start to remember them more.”
“Definitely.”
Barely making it through two courses before we wave our white flags, Rachel sits back in her spot and exhales in defeat. “I need to walk. Otherwise, I’m going to slip into a food coma and pass out.”
“Well, we can’t have that. I still have another stop for us.” Extending my hand to her, she takes it willingly as I help her out of her side of the booth and grab our to-go boxes.
“Just let me use the bathroom really quick before we leave.”
“Of course.”
Positioned at the end of the hall, I wait for Rachel to finish, surveying the hustle of the restaurant as I remained rooted in place. A few moments later she reappears. Placing my hand on the small of her back, I usher her out of the wooden doors to head back out to my car. Once we’re settled inside my SUV, we cruise along the road, leaving the magical forest of The Treehouse for the actual forest in the mountains.
We’re coasting for over ten minutes, our fingers intertwined, before Rachel finally asks, “So where are you taking me?” The car is slowly climbing up the winding road of a small mountain on the outskirts of Emerson Falls, taking us higher and further from the boundaries of our bustling town.
“When you told the story of your grandpa the other night at dinner and how you used to go camping with him and look at the stars, it reminded me that this little place up here existed.” Gesturing out the window, I point to the building peeking through the trees at the top of the peak.
“What is it?”
“An observatory. Nothing like the big ones you can visit in more popular towns. But it’s still a hidden gem in this area, and they just so happened to be open tonight.”
