Chapter Eleven
Jax
I don’t like the path my mind is traveling but I need to ask. “Is it normal for your father to meet you for dinner?”
“No. It’s typical for him to want something. Demand something, but we rarely meet outside the home. He— I’m not svelte like my mother or the women he prefers. He doesn’t really like being seen with me. I’m an embarrassment.”
“Anything else different with your father?”
“My grandparents died a few months ago. He’s been upset that the will is still in probate.”
“Were you close with your grandparents?”
“Closer than with my parents. But they moved to Arizona a few years ago for health reasons. They’d buy me a plane ticket twice a year. I’d see them at the holidays, and one other time.”
“Was it an accident?”
“No. They’d been together for sixty-eight years. I saw them the month before. They flew me out special. I knew Grams hadn’t been well. She’d gone to the hospital but was failing. Gramps….” She clears her throat. “The nurse said he had crawled into bed with her for the night. When the monitors went off a few hours later she went to check. They’d passed together.”
She plucks at the button on my flannel shirt. “Dad had them cremated immediately, no funeral.”
She didn’t get to say goodbye. Bastard.
“My father thinks I’m getting old and has been trying to marry me off to one of his rich friends’ sons.” She giggles. “I’ve mastered my escapes.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not into little boys. Sorry, men my age who have never done anything that daddy didn’t tell them to do. When we meet, I ask what they really want out of life. What their dreams are. Two of them have grown a backbone and went after their dreams. We stay in touch as friends.”
Chuckling, I kiss her forehead. “Damn, you are the whole package. Brave, smart, talented, beautiful.”
Hand planted on my chest, she raises up and stares at me. “You really think so?”
I brush a finger over her cheek. “Something you need to know about me. I don’t do small talk. I don’t lie or cheat. I speak my mind. What you see is what you get.”
“Take me to bed, Jax.”
Whoa, didn’t see that coming. I lean back into the chair. “Maura?”
“Jax, you are the first man I’ve ever met who didn’t treat me like a ticket to the upper class or a full bank account. Who appreciated my artistic talent. Who looked at me and saw beauty, not a fat girl. Who was physically attracted to me.” She wiggles her butt over my boner. “Really wants me. I just need you to tell me it’s not because I’m convenient and available.”
Damn she’s killing me. I’m trying to do the right thing but she’s making it hard. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.” Sitting up, she presses a lush thigh on each side of my hips before lowering her mons against my rod. Fuck me, she feels good.
“Be a good girl.”
“I’m trying.” She smiles. “I’m not sure how to do it.”
“Maura?!”
“You’ll pretty much have to teach me everything. I’ve only done this once and it was mostly an: in, out, and done job. I’ve got Bob and Leroy, but I know they aren’t the same.” She wiggles her mound against me.
I clutch her hips with my hands. “Stop that. No more teasing until we clear up a couple things. First, who the hell are Bob and Leroy?”
“Duh. My battery-operated boyfriends.”
That takes two names off my ‘beat the shit out of’ list. “The other one?”
“A friend set me up in college. The guy didn’t know who my family was, which was a plus. So, I said okay. There was very little foreplay. Afterward, I wondered if he may have been a virgin too, or close to it. He, we, neither one of us really knew what we were doing. But I had at least read some romance books that said there should be pleasure for both parties. Not just a release for one.”
“Oh, babe, I can promise you pleasure and several releases.” I run a hand down my face and beard. “I don’t do relationships.”
The light in her eye’s dims, the excitement on her face disappears.
“I’ve never been tempted. Until now. Until you. I’ve had hook-ups that repeated over the years, but they were just that. Mutual agreements on both sides to scratch an itch.”
Cupping my fist under her chin, I lift her gaze back to me. “You are making me want things I didn’t expect to have. I spent twenty hard years in service to my country. I’ve got baggage. We’ll have to learn to work through that together.
“You’re young. Way too young for an old man like me. Think about it. When you’re in the prime of your life I’ll be old. I’m a simple man. Not into a lot of highbrow shit and parties. And I do not fucking share what is mine.”
She slaps a hand on my chest. “Now you listen. My parents were two years apart in age. They’ve been alone the whole time. Each going their separate way, doing their own thing with whomever they pleased. They didn’t even try to hide it.
“I want a partner I can be with, share with, someone who wants me and understands me. I don’t care about the number of years. I care about the quality and the love. I want what my grandparents had. Can you promise to give me that?”
What the hell am I thinking? What am I doing? She’s young. Inexperienced. I come with a shit load of baggage. I’ve done things. Seen things.
I’ll protect her, support her, worship her, every day she gives me. And when the time comes that she realizes I’m not worthy of her, I’ll walk away.
“This is fast.”
“For you too,” she adds. Slipping her hands under the hem of my T-shirt, she slowly slides them over my abs. “We work well in the kitchen and barn. Maybe we should try the bed and see how you feel after.”