Page 156 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

KATIE

I didn’t know what to say or do. I knew nothing would take the pain away that he was feeling and the best I could do for him was just be here.

So I hugged him tightly and made sure he could feel me as I struggled to chew and swallow without making too much noise. I wiped my chin and cheeks and lips and rubbed his back after.

“I’m glad I got to meet him,” I whispered.

Peter nodded into my shoulder.

“And I think he was glad he got to meet me, too,” I continued.

Peter nodded again.

My throat tightened and I willed myself not to cry. That wouldn’t help things at all. Peter needed me to be the strong one right now.

I thought about how vibrant and alive Mr. Stenley had seemed to me even though he looked weary and withered.

We’d gotten so lucky that we saw him when we did.

He was himself, and part of me wondered if he’d been holding out for a day like that before he let go.

I always believed in that kind of thing.

I believed people knew when it was their time to go, and sometimes, they held on for as long as they could in order to say proper goodbyes to those they loved the most. Sometimes, they couldn’t, but it sure seemed like that was what Mr. Stenley had done.

He wanted one more dinner with his sons. One more moment. One more good laugh.

One more steak. I smiled as a tear fell free.

Peter pulled away. I searched his face, looking for tears I could not find, and cupped his cheek.

“What can I do?” I asked.

“Nothing. This is all so unexpected. I mean I knew it was coming but I still thought there was time.”

Maybe it was better that the waiting was over. Maybe this closure would help Peter come to terms with how his father’s life ended. I didn’t say any of this aloud. It seemed insensitive and I didn’t want to make things worse.

“I thought you had time too.” I bit my bottom lip. “Do you think you should call your brother?”

“Shit.”

“I can call him if you want.”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “No, I should do it. Just give me a minute, okay?”

I nodded. “I’ll wait inside.”

He let me go.

I stepped into the house and sat down on the edge of the sofa, where I leaned forward and cried soundlessly into my hands as I thought about what Peter had to do outside. Calling his brother and giving him the news would probably be harder than hearing it himself.

I ached for the pair of them. Losing a parent was hard. Losing them after years of their struggle with a disease nobody could cure was worse.

At least they all had a proper goodbye and a good memory to close the door on. I hoped both Peter and Mike realized that in the coming weeks or months when time took the sharpness of some of the pain away.

Peter stayed outside for about ten minutes.

I could hear his muffled voice as he talked to his brother, but I couldn’t make out what he said.

I waited with my stomach in knots for him to come inside, and when he did, his face was streaked with tears, and the composure he’d held together in front of me crumbled.

I went to him, took his hand, and led him to the bedroom, where we lay on the bed and I curled up against him and held on to him like I would never let him go.

His breathing evened out, and when I lifted my cheek from his chest to look up at him, I found him staring at the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked softly.

“He used to take us for milkshakes on Fridays,” Peter said hoarsely.

“When he was done with work, he’d come home and get us in the summertime and we’d go to this hole in the wall ice-cream parlor with Dad’s favorite milkshakes.

He’d always order chocolate and he refused to order anything other than chocolate for me and Mikey, too.

He thought all the other flavors were a waste of money.

” Peter chuckled and wiped at his eyes. “Mikey used to hate it. He always wanted vanilla. Or strawberry. But Dad wouldn’t have it. It was chocolate or it was nothing.”

I smiled and ran a finger along the collar of his shirt. “He was a man who knew what he liked.”

“He was stubborn.”

“That too.”

“There is so much I wish I’d told him.”

I sat up and left one hand on his chest. Peter closed his hand over mine and rubbed my knuckles absently. I put my other hand on his thigh. “He knew the important things, Peter. He knew you loved him. And I think he knew you missed him, too. And he also knew you would be okay without him.”

His eyes slid to me. “How do you know that?”

I shrugged and lifted his hand to kiss his knuckles. “Because I could see it in him. In the way he looked at you and the way he talked to me. He knew there was someone who would look after you when he was gone, and he knew you would look after your brother. Otherwise…” I trailed off.

“Otherwise what?”

“Otherwise, he might have fought to stay longer until he was sure you would be okay without him.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

“I know it sounds a bit loopy,” I said, “but I truly believe that. He was proud of you. And he believed in the man you’ve become. I think he was ready. I think he was at peace.”

Peter swallowed hard. “I think you might be right.”

I leaned over him and kissed his lips. They were salty. “That doesn’t mean it’s any easier to be the ones left behind.”

Peter cupped the back of my head and kissed me deeply. When he didn’t let go, I sensed that he was desperate for something to take some of the hurt away, even if it was just for a little bit, and I knew I held that power in my hands.

I kissed him back and trailed my fingers down his side so I could run my hand up the inside of his shirt.

I ran a hand over his stomach and chest and worked my way down to his belt, which I tugged open.

His breath hitched in his throat when I eased my hand under his pants but over his boxers and massaged him over the thin material.

He pinched my bottom lip between his teeth.

I responded by going under his boxers and stroking him. He was hard and ready within seconds and his breathing had quickened. The grief was momentarily gone and I was more than willing to do what I could to keep it at bay for just a little longer.

I worked at taking his pants and boxers off. Once I succeeded, I slid off the bed and stripped naked for him. I left my clothes in a little pile on the floor and turned in a slow circle, letting him soak in every inch of my naked body.

Peter propped himself up on one elbow and watched.

When I went to my knees on the bed, he pulled his shirt off over his head.

I climbed up the length of him and settled on his thighs so I could take his cock in my mouth and worship him with my tongue and throat.

Peter groaned and ran his fingers through my hair.

I teased and delighted him with my tongue until his stomach was flexed and tight and his jaw was clenched.

Then I inched up higher, swung one leg over his hips, and straddled him.

I sat on his cock and took him deep inside me.

Peter frowned and closed his eyes.

I bounced on his dick and the bed creaked beneath us. He gripped my hips and thighs and held me up when my legs started to tremble.

Right when I thought I was going to make him come, he pushed me off him, rolled me over, and ran a hand down my stomach to play with my clit.

I gazed into his eyes as he massaged me and rolled my hips.

Peter moved back on his knees and pushed my legs apart so he could fit between my thighs. He slid his cock back inside me and dropped his hips low. I gripped my legs under my knees and pushed them back and he pushed in deeper.

I whimpered and moaned as he pressed his thumb down on my clit.

It felt so good and the pleasure was such a relief from the pain from moments earlier.

“Harder,” I whispered.

Peter bucked against me. He bowed over me and gripped my hair so he could hold my head down firmly against the mattress. My scalp burned with the strain but I loved it. He leaned in closer still so he could kiss me, and his tongue explored my mouth with desperate need as he fucked me hard and slow.

My pussy tightened around his dick. He groaned in my ear.

His breath was hot on the side of my neck and I gave in to the mounting pressure below my belly.

I relaxed and let go. He knew my climax was coming and he fucked me faster until I came all over him.

I could hear how wet I was as he buried himself inside me until I came one last time.

He finished at the same time and we broke apart panting for breath.

I was still seeing stars when he lay down on his side beside me.

He reached over and stroked my hair and I snuggled up against him. Neither of us said a word. There was nothing to say. The release had taken away some of the hurt but I knew it would settle back upon him in a few minutes.

Any reprieve was worth it.

I loved this man more than anything and his pain was my pain.

However I could lighten his load, I would.

If he let me fuck him all day and night, I would.

If he needed solitude, I would grant him that too, but I prayed like hell that wasn’t the case because to appease my own grief I needed to be able to hold him and see him with my own eyes.

I needed to be here. I needed him to know he had me, if nothing else, and that he always would.