Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
marlowe
L ingering memories of our reunion have me humming to myself while completing my chores the next day.
Last night’s makeup session was everything I needed and then some. Gunner and I talked and made love into the wee hours of the morning, eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms. When the alarm went off, we showered and dressed together, then headed downstairs for a leisurely breakfast.
As I saw him off to work, I knew we’d reached an important milestone in our relationship, and I had no more doubts that we belonged together.
A sudden tap on my shoulder startles me into dropping the furniture polish I just sprayed on an already gleaming table. I stop the bottle from rolling to the floor, then spin around to see Gunner’s father standing there.
Flustered, I yank out my earbuds. “Mr. Ransom.”
“Sorry, honey. Didn’t mean to frighten you.” His rascally grin lacks even a trace of remorse.
“Can I get you anything?” I offer.
“Just wanted to formally introduce myself. My son forgot his manners yesterday and, well, I wasn’t exactly in top form.” He thrusts out his hand. “Dale Ransom.”
I quickly remove my rubber cleaning gloves and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ransom. I’m Marlowe Somerset.”
“Pleasure’s all mine.” He kisses the back of my hand, his eyes twinkling. “No wonder my son is so smitten. And make no mistake, honey, he is smitten.”
My cheeks heat with a blush.
Dale Ransom is tall and thin, his angular face carved with deep grooves and dark shadows above his cheekbones. Despite his gaunt features, he’s strikingly handsome. His black hair is still thick, though graying at the temples. His eyes are a piercing blue beneath heavy brows.
I’m struck again by how much Gunner resembles the man. It’s a little scary.
Sansa, who had been sunbathing in the bay window, leaps down from her perch to sniff at Gunner’s father.
He gives her a broad grin. “Well, who do we have here?”
I smile. “That’s Sansa.”
“Hello there, Sansa.” Dale crouches down to stroke the cat’s head. When she rubs against his hand, he laughs gruffly and scratches behind her ears.
I can’t hide my surprise. “She usually doesn’t take to strangers.”
Dale grins at the purring cat. “You have great taste in humans, purty lady. Get it? Purr -ty?”
I laugh at the joke, and he winks at me. He’s very charming, I’ll give him that.
“I understand you’re a grad student at Gunner’s alma mater,” he says.
“I am,” I confirm, smiling. “I would’ve had class this morning, but my professor had to cancel for a personal emergency.”
“Is that so? Well?—”
“I hope you’re not bothering Marlowe.”
We both turn to see Mrs. Calder striding into the room with a small tray.
Dale rises to his feet, his mouth softening into a smile that shaves a good ten years off his face. “Mornin’, Gemma Louise. How ya doing?”
“A heap better than you, I bet,” she retorts. “You look like roadkill run over by an eighteen-wheeler.”
He scowls, but there’s no bite to it and his eyes are twinkling. “I just met your new furry friend.” He motions to Sansa shamelessly winding herself around his legs. “Reminds me of Gingersnap. Remember how much that ol’ gal adored me?”
“Of course I remember. And her name was Ginger.”
“That’s what you called her. I called her Gingersnap, God rest her ornery soul.”
The two old friends share a reminiscent smile before Mrs. Calder clears her throat and holds up the tray.
“Brought you some tea to help shake that nasty hangover. Why don’t you join me in the sunroom so Marlowe can finish her chores.” Her tone makes it clear it’s not a request.
Dale grins at her. “Just as bossy as ever.”
She harrumphs. “ Somebody needs to keep you in line.”
“Ah, Gemma Louise,” he says fondly, brushing back a strand of hair that had escaped her bun. “Don’t ever change.”
I stare in shock as a delicate pink flush spreads over her cheeks. Holy crap. Mrs. Calder is blushing. Actually blushing .
She catches me gawking and briskly clears her throat. “We’ll let you get back to work. Come along now, Dale.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He takes the tray from her hands and tosses me a wink. “We’ll chat more later.”
“Not if your son has anything to say about it,” Mrs. Calder warns.
Dale merely chortles.
Grinning, I watch the pair walk off together, Sansa trotting after them.
Two hours later, I’ve just finished vacuuming the parlor when a pair of strong arms wraps around my waist and a deep voice rumbles in my ear, “Hello, beautiful.”
Every nerve cell in my body comes alive, zinging with heat and awareness. “Is this who I think it is?” I tease.
“Damn well better be.” One big hand splays across my belly as he holds me against his hard chest while nibbling the side of my neck. “You smell good.”
I let out a breathless laugh. “I guess pine cleaner and eau de sweat do it for you.”
“Everything about you does it for me.”
I grin with pleasure and turn in the circle of his arms, smiling into his gorgeous blues. “What’re you doing home so early?”
He smiles. “I decided to work from home the rest of the day.”
“Did you, now?” I purr, looping my arms around his neck. “I guess it pays to be the boss, doesn’t it?”
“That’s right.” He reaches out and brushes the pad of his thumb along the corner of my lips. My heart does a little flutter and my stomach flip-flops.
Unable to resist, I open my mouth and draw his thumb inside. His eyes darken and his smile takes on a decidedly wicked slant.
I draw his thumb deeper, curling my tongue around it and sucking hard. His cock jerks against my belly and he groans.
I release him with a naughty laugh and turn back to the vacuum cleaner.
“You little tease.” He moves behind me, planting tiny kisses along my nape where my hair meets skin. Delicious tingles race down my spine, and I lean back against him with a blissful sigh.
He pushes his hands into my hair, loosening the pins securing my topknot. He makes an appreciative noise as my hair falls past my shoulders in soft waves. I melt like candy when he runs his fingers through the dark strands, spreading them across my back and breathing in the fruity scent of my shampoo.
“In case I’ve never told you,” he murmurs against my ear, “I love your hair. It’s gorgeous and it always smells amazing.”
“Thank you,” I whisper smilingly. “I feel the same about yours.”
Nuzzling my hair, he unties my apron and drops it on the antique sideboard, then takes my hand. “Let’s go for a walk in the garden.”
“I’d love to,” I say weakly, “but I haven’t finished?—”
He gives me a stern look. “Are you defying your boss?”
I bite my lip and smile. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Smart woman.” He leads me outside and into the garden, swinging our joined hands between us as we walk down a stone path, savoring the fragrant blooms everywhere.
“My foundation is hosting our annual scholarship awards ceremony next month,” he says casually. “Will you go with me?”
I stare at him, my heart thumping hard. “You . . . you want to go public with our relationship?”
His mouth twitches in a wry smile. “That ship has already sailed, hasn’t it?”
Wincing at the reminder, I mutter under my breath, “Thanks a lot, TMZ.”
Gunner chuckles, lifting my hand to his lips. “I don’t care what the tabloids say about us. All that matters is the way we feel about each other. I want to be with you, Marlowe, and I’m more than happy to let the whole damn world know it.”
His words bring a lump to my throat. “Wow.”
He brushes his lips across my knuckles. “So will you be my date for the ceremony?”
I beam at him. “I’d be honored.”
His slow, pleased smile knocks the oxygen from my lungs. I’m so crazy about this man, completely head over heels.
As we come around the side of the house, we can see his father and Mrs. Calder through the sunroom windows. They’re sitting close together on the couch, sharing a quiet laugh.
The scene makes me smile. “They’ve been there all morning. Guess they had a lot of catching up to do.”
“Guess so,” Gunner murmurs.
We spy on the pair for a few moments.
“They love each other,” I say softly. “Not just as friends. They’re in love.”
“I know.”
I look at Gunner. “You do?”
He nods. “I didn’t always. As a kid, all I knew was that Mrs. Calder was my father’s closest friend. She made him laugh like no one else, and she didn’t take any shit from him. Watching them interact was always entertaining.”
“I bet,” I say with a grin. “I got a taste of it this morning. I love the way her East Texas accent comes out when she talks to your dad, and it’s so adorable the way he calls her Gemma Louise.”
Gunner chuckles as we resume walking hand in hand. “Maverick and I loved visiting her every summer. She was warm and nurturing, fun to be around. Sometimes we wished our mother was more like her.”
That doesn’t surprise me at all, but I keep the thought to myself. “Did she and your mom get along?”
“They were never friends, if that’s what you mean. They treated each other cordially, but every now and then Mom would make snide comments about Mrs. Calder, which gave me the impression that she wasn’t too thrilled about her friendship with Dad. And I’ve always suspected that she got a cat simply because Mrs. Calder had one.”
“Really? Was she jealous of her?”
“Probably,” Gunner admits. “She rarely came with us when we visited Bullsboro, but I just figured she hated the town. Which she absolutely did. She called it a backwoods hellhole and a few other choice names I won’t repeat.”
“Ouch.” I give him a rueful sidelong look. “So when did you figure out that your dad and Mrs. Calder were in love? Did something happen between them?”
“No. They never had an affair or anything like that.” Gunner plucks a pink blossom from an overhanging branch and tucks it into my hair. We stare at each other as the late summer breeze washes over us, warm and scented with flowers.
“Mrs. Calder was happily married,” he continues. “Though her husband was on the road a lot, she never would have cheated on him. And Dad, to his credit, cared about her too much to disrespect her marriage.”
“That’s good,” I murmur.
Gunner nods. “Five years ago, shortly after she came to live with me, we threw a big backyard birthday party for her oldest grandson. At one point, I went inside to take a phone call. That’s when I saw Dad and Mrs. Calder in the kitchen. They were hugging, which wasn’t unusual. What stopped me in my tracks was the look on their faces. Pain. Regret. Yearning.” He shakes his head slowly. “I stood there staring at them, and in that moment, everything crystallized for me. Suddenly I understood why Mom felt so threatened by their friendship, why she refused to let Mrs. Calder be our godmother. Suddenly I realized that my parents’ marriage never really stood a chance, because Dad loved Mrs. Calder and always would. If she’d joined him in Houston all those years ago, he wouldn’t have resorted to marrying a pampered debutante he wasn’t compatible with.”
“Wow,” I whisper, trying to absorb everything I’ve just heard. “That’s so heartbreaking, Gunner.”
He nods slowly. “I’ve never blamed my mother for the divorce. She wasn’t responsible for Dad’s infidelity and gambling, and there’s no guarantee he would have been a better husband to Mrs. Calder.”
“True,” I murmur. “He might have been happier with her. But if he’s prone to vices . . .” I let the sentence go unfinished, watching Gunner nod in agreement.
“He has demons. Self-destructive tendencies he can’t seem to shake.” A shadow falls over Gunner’s eyes and his voice quiets until it’s just above a whisper. “Sometimes I look at him and I see . . .” He trails off and I wait for him to complete the thought.
But he just stares ahead, suddenly lost in memories. “When Maverick and I were growing up, we worshipped the ground Dad walked on. He was larger than life—big and strong with a booming laugh you could hear from miles away. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. He roped cattle and rode horses like a seasoned cowboy. He chopped down trees to build our campfires. He built engines and raced cars just for the thrill of it. He was our hero,” Gunner says with a trace of bitterness. “Watching him deteriorate into a shell of his former self broke our damn hearts.”
I swallow hard, feeling a rush of love and compassion for him. When I tighten my fingers around his, he looks down at me, his expression softening.
“I know I just met your father, and I don’t want to speak out of turn,” I say quietly. “But underneath all those destructive layers, I think he has a good heart.”
Gunner gazes at me, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with my assessment.
Hoping to lighten his mood, I add impishly, “Even Sansa likes him.”
He scowls. “Damn traitor.”
I peal with laughter, turning his scowl into a smile.
We keep walking until we find shade beneath an arbor blanketed with wisteria and climbing roses.
When we turn to face each other, Gunner slides his fingers through my hair, gripping my head in that dominating way of his as he claims my mouth. The kiss starts out gentle but soon turns more heated. Hungry.
He twists his hand in my hair and holds me still as he plunders my mouth with his tongue. Heat curls through every muscle, fiber and cell in my body. Letting out a soft moan, I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers plunging into the thickness of his hair.
“God, what you do to me.” His lips move from mine, traveling to my jaw and neck. “You’re driving me fucking crazy.”
I lick his ear, making him shiver. “Do you have a maid fetish?”
“I didn’t before you came along.” He tongues the beating pulse at the base of my neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “How the hell am I supposed to get any work done knowing you’re here waiting for me at the end of each day? You’re messing with my productivity.”
I grin. “Sorry.”
“Are you?” he grumbles. “I have my doubts.”
A bubble of laughter rises in my throat.
With a muttered threat, he palms my ass and lifts me against the arbor wall. I wrap my legs around his waist, gasping at the hardness of his cock pressed against my sensitive core. I hold him close to me, soaking up the warmth of his skin through his shirt.
He exhales my name and kisses me harder, his mouth grinding bruisingly against mine as his hands skate up my thighs, under my dress.
I moan as a scorching rush of pleasure rocks through my body. My nipples are hard and my clit is throbbing, hot juices spilling onto the silk of my panties.
He breaks the kiss just long enough to nuzzle my cheek and neck before finding my mouth again, groaning when my tongue tangles with his.
A throat clears loudly behind us.
Gunner tears his mouth from mine with a low curse.
“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” comes his father’s amused voice.
Mortified at getting caught, I bury my flaming face against Gunner’s chest. With my back against the trellised wall, all his dad can see are my legs wrapped around his son. Which is embarrassing enough.
“What do you want?” Gunner growls over his shoulder.
“I’m taking Gemma Louise to dinner tonight,” Dale announces. “Since I’m not allowed behind the wheel, I was thinking maybe your driver could take us. That is, if you’re not going anywhere else today.”
“What’s wrong with Mrs. Calder’s car?”
“Nothing at all. That’s a mighty fine Benz you bought her.”
“So what’s the problem?” Gunner says between clenched teeth.
Dale huffs indignantly. “I might be a drunk reprobate, but I’ll be damned if I let a woman drive on our date.”
I bite my lip, smothering a laugh against Gunner’s chest.
“Trace will drive you,” he grits out.
“Thank you, son. I appreciate it.”
“Anything else?”
When Dale doesn’t respond, I peek over Gunner’s shoulder to see his father sheepishly scuffing his boot toe against the ground.
Gunner’s jaw flexes as if he’s running out of patience. “Spit it out, old man.”
“I wanna take her to Adagio.”
“Adagio is booked six months in advance. You can’t get a reservation on such short notice.”
“No, but you can.”
Gunner shakes his head, muttering an exasperated oath that makes me grin harder.
Dale pleads his case. “She deserves a fine dining experience, the best in town. So what do you say, Gunn? Can you wrangle us a table?”
Gunner sighs. “Tell Mrs. Calder to call my assistant. She’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, son. Much obliged.” Dale grins slyly. “I’ll let you crazy kids get back to what you were doing. Watch out for thorns. Getting pricked could be a real mood killer.”
“Beat it, old man,” Gunner growls.
Dale cackles mischievously.
As soon as he leaves, I burst into giggles.
Gunner looks down at me, his annoyance giving way to warm affection. “Sorry about that.”
“No apology necessary. That was entertaining.”
“Glad you think so.” He pushes my hair out of my eyes, his touch as gentle as the fragrant wisteria brushing my cheek.
“Your dad reminded me of a teenager asking for the car keys. Talk about a role reversal, huh?”
Gunner grunts. “It’s been that way a long damn time.”
As sympathy stirs in my chest, I reach up and gently stroke his jaw. “You’re a good man, Gunner Ransom. My father would have liked you.”
He gazes at me with a fiercely earnest expression that betrays a surprising vulnerability. “Do you mean that?”
“I do.” I smile wryly. “He might not be too crazy about you ravishing me in your garden?—”
Gunner laughs softly. Framing my face in his hands, he kisses me so tenderly that my heart aches and tears sting my eyes.
No other man has ever made me feel as precious as this man makes me feel. I love him so much. Riotously, ferociously, with every beat of my heart and every breath in my lungs. It’s the scariest, most thrillingly wonderful feeling in the world.
He brushes my lips with his once more, then lifts his head and smiles into my eyes. “What do you say we order takeout tonight and snuggle up with a movie?”
I smile radiantly. “Sounds like the perfect date.”