Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Gideon
I entered the house. The cat was on the couch. She blinked at us, then closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
Dad was safely home. His pickup was in the shop he’d had the party in, only there were no tools other than what was in the bed of his pickup. Jonah and Summer had left.
Jonah hadn’t said a word about the sale. He hadn’t said much at all, just gotten to the task at hand. The guy was different from what I remembered. He was younger than me by a few years, but he hadn’t been the bearded, quiet man then. Autumn had told me about his accident and the death of his brother fifteen years ago, and I could see how it’d changed him. Taught him to seek peace in his own head. I knew the feeling.
Now, I had Autumn home, but I couldn’t put those condoms to use. I was dirty and had grease stains on what had been my good casual clothes. Autumn was as fresh as a daisy. Her cheeks were pink from laughing with Dad.
My chest grew tight at how easily they had chatted. Dad hadn’t talked about his meeting, but Autumn had told me that was a thing, hence the anonymous part.
She gave Sprinkles some scratches and got a trilling sound in return. I could bend this woman over the couch, and I wouldn’t care what an eyeful the cat got, but I didn’t want to mark that creamy skin with the grunge from earlier tonight.
“I gotta shower.”
“Okay. Leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll put some spray on them.”
“You don’t have to do my laundry.” Other people had been doing my laundry for years. It was one of the perks of living on the premises. But not Autumn.
“You can’t grow up a Bailey and not learn how to get grease stains out. It’s fine, and don’t worry, it won’t be a regular thing.” She smiled, but it slipped immediately.
I was about to ask her what was wrong, but the regular thing part of her comment stood out. Our relationship was scheduled for mere weeks.
“Go ahead and clean up,” she insisted, skipping past the odd silence. “I’ll find us something to eat.”
“Thanks.” We only had about three weeks left. Did I want us to be longer?
I pushed a hand through my hair. It didn’t matter. Without Percival, I had no ties to this town. Entertaining thoughts of a lasting relationship wasn’t fair to Autumn.
My grandfather’s low growl rose in my head. A man’s worth is in his name. Percival is no longer your last name, but it’s alive in the land. Don’t let your dad destroy it.
I shook off the memory, exhausted at still being torn between my grandfather and my dad after all these years.
Besides, I had to shower, and then I had to bury myself in my wife.
I folded my clothes outside the door for Autumn. In the bathroom, I turned on the faucet and stepped under the frigid spray. I needed the cold shock after tonight. Once the water warmed, I let it pour over me and scrubbed myself off. This was my second shower of the day, and I needed the reprieve of this little curtained cove.
So much had changed since I’d left. Was it me who’d altered the most? Or Dad?
When I’d left home, Dad hadn’t had to worry about feeding me, though he’d quit long before that. Had he noticed I was even gone? Maybe not as much in the years he was drinking.
Seeing him reminded me of the good times, and I hated it. Those days had been me and Mom, but now memories of Dad were invading my brain. Was that what it had been like for him? Had I been a walking, talking reminder of the life he used to have, the one he’d lost when Mom had died?
No wonder he’d let me go without a word.
What had made him sober up?
It sure as fuck hadn’t been me.
I flung the shower curtain back and pressed a towel against my face. Autumn’s sweet scent glided into my nose on a deep inhale. The tension from my earlier circle of thought drained out of me .
None of that mattered anymore. All I had to worry about was a quiet night with my wife.
I stepped out of her bathtub/shower combo. How quickly I had adapted to one showerhead. A delicious cinnamon smell was drifting into the bathroom. After throwing on a T-shirt and an old pair of black basketball shorts that proved I wasn’t always a slacks-and-loafers guy, I went in search of my little teacher and the source of the sweet smell.
She was at the stove, her hips swaying. Her phone was on her dining table by my computer. A twangy country song came from a small speaker by one of the cupboards. This was the private dancing she did. I was glad it was all for me.
I went behind her and slid my hands around her waist. She jumped and giggled, looking over her shoulder. “You just appear, don’t you?”
“It’s a handy trait when you’re the boss.” I eyed the french toast she was cooking. In another pan was sausage, and she had a bowl of eggs already whisked together sitting on the counter. “You didn’t have to go through all the trouble of cooking.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but we don’t have many takeout options in Bourbon Canyon.”
“That was the one thing I never looked back on when I moved.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You looked back though?”
“A few times,” I admitted. If anyone else had asked, I’d have denied it. “College was easy. It was new and I had something to focus on, and there’s a lot to do in Vegas.”
“But you got homesick? ”
“Yes. There’re always people. To go from barely seeing Dad to having roommates and classes full of more people than my entire high school? A vast change. Then I got a place of my own with a buddy, but he worked nights and was gone a lot.”
She flipped the two pieces of french toast. “And you were back to being alone.”
“Sometimes my grandpa Percival would visit, but he’d rant up a storm about how Dad was mismanaging the farm and what a drunk he was. Then he got too sick to travel.” The relief I’d felt had filled me with shame. My grandfather hadn’t realized that he was also detailing all the ways I’d failed. I didn’t share his last name. I hadn’t gotten Percival. I couldn’t help Dad. No matter how much wealth I accumulated, it wasn’t Percival, and Grandpa Percival didn’t care, wasn’t even proud. The thought filled me with dread, like he was going to return and indict me all over again.
“You two were close?”
“Yeah.” I thought for a moment. “In a way. His health didn’t allow much, and he and Dad never got along. So our visits were short.” And filled with Grandpa Percival’s anger. “At least he called a few times when I was in college before he died. Dad never reached out.” Not for a long time. By the time he had called me, I’d bottled up so much resentment I disconnected midring.
She looked back again. “That must’ve hurt.”
“Yeah,” I said gruffly. At the time, I hadn’t realized how much I’d dwelled on it. “I can only guess that when he started calling was when he got sober. I’d been gone for almost ten years by then.”
“Do you think he wanted something?”
“Since I was working my way up the casino and hotel management chain, I assumed he wanted money. I didn’t have to look very hard to know how bad the farm and ranch were doing. But he never asked.” Unlike Grandpa Percival, Dad hadn’t demanded anything of me during those calls.
Mom’s voice rose in my head. She’d cut off Grandpa Percival during one visit. You leave him be, Dad. Giddy’s going to make his own legacy. Her voice had been light, laughing, but my grandfather had shushed her and kept recounting the Percival family history.
“Did you keep in contact with anyone after you moved?”
I buried my nose in her hair, grateful to leave that memory behind. She’d let her hair down, and I toyed with the coppery strands. “Not really. My other grandparents all passed away before I left Bourbon Canyon.”
She dug the two slices of french toast out and transferred them to a clean plate. She set the spatula down and faced me. “Your dad might’ve been reaching out because he felt ready to face his failings.”
A hot wave of resentment wound its way up my neck, but she flattened her hand on my chest.
“I’m not saying that negates what he did. I’m saying that he loves you. He failed you, and you feel like he’s failing you again. But he loves you.”
“Are you saying I should forget everything?”
“No, I’m saying don’t let the terrible experiences erase the good in every memory. Not for his benefit, but for yours.”
Any response I had stuck in my throat. The way I wanted to heave suggested I’d do nothing but sputter if I tried to talk. The past was mixing with the present. Dad’s easy acceptance of me when I was a kid compared to my grandfather. Dad had done the same with my job, with Autumn, and with the way I treated him. Regret was replacing a small portion of bitterness, and goddamn, I was not ready for that.
She scrutinized me. Was she guessing how I would react? I didn’t even know.
“Can you check the sausages, and if they’re done, will you cook the eggs? I have some more french toast to batter.” She patted my pecs and turned away from me, giving me much-needed distance.
Before I’d returned to Bourbon Canyon, I would’ve sworn all my memories of Dad were bad. Now I was seeing a different side of him, and it was difficult. My resentment had built up so strong, solidified so hard, that I’d been ready to use an innocent woman to get what I wanted.
Autumn might be innocent, but she was smart. Once again, she’d said something that tilted my world and made me look at my past differently.
Autumn
I had worried for several minutes that my comments about Hank were deeply disturbing for Gideon. I thought he’d close in on himself again, but he loosened up, and after the first groan over my french toast, I knew we were in the clear. As we ate, he asked me about the music program and the skit and how I thought it went. Now, he was helping with cleanup and dishes.
Some of my single friends had their wedding plans. They lived for the day. But this was what I had dreamed of. Domestic bliss. We’d cook together and clean together and just talk. Not every night of course, but regularly. Just like this.
Would I miss this or the bedroom activities more when he left?
“Do you have another program coming up?” he asked.
I shook my head and loaded the dishwasher with detergent. He was behind me and his gaze was a brand on my ass. I’d miss that too. He made me feel sexy. I was his only option at the moment. He was a man of his word, but I wasn’t complaining. “No. I’m going to help Scarlett with hers.”
“You’re not helping the friends who ditched you.” He ended with a growl.
I tossed the detergent back under the sink, started the dishwasher, and rinsed my hands off. “I know you don’t like them, but they’re just young. I might’ve done the same thing at their age.”
His gaze challenged me to admit the truth.
I sighed. “Fine. I’m a little salty, but it’s a small town and I work with them. Besides, it’s hard to be upset when I got on an elevator with this moody CEO who wanted to trap me into a marriage for the horribly selfish reason of saving his family’s land from getting sold to this big land baron family.”
His lips quirked. “They’re into running moonshine too.”
“Not since Great-Grandaddy Bailey.”
He laughed and crowded me into the corner of the counter. “I feel like some of that rebelliousness rubbed off on you. ”
“I’m adopted.”
“The trait is that strong.”
His mouth was close. He was hovering over me. The low desire that had been simmering in my body all night cranked up a few notches. “The natural Kerrigan stubbornness might’ve been able to flourish in the Bailey household.”
“The moody CEO might’ve been attracted to that smart mouth.” He traced my bottom lip with his thumb. “And a few other things.” He trailed his fingers down my neck and over my breasts, softly cupping one side before moving farther down. He bracketed my hips with his hands.
I curled my arms around his neck. Disbelief rocked inside of me like it had been doing since I’d said my vows. I had Gideon James in my kitchen. I liked waking up to him. I liked chatting with him. I liked the Gideon who helped his dad, the one who joined me at school for special projects and the guy who helped cook breakfast for dinner with me.
He lifted me onto the counter.
I let out a squeal. “I’m too heav?—”
“Don’t you dare finish that.” He planted his mouth on mine, and a second later, our tongues were tangling.
He wedged between my legs, and I hooked my feet around his hips.
He kissed along my jaw to my ear. “Fuck, you taste sweeter and sweeter every time.”
“It’s the syrup.” I shoved my fingers into the strands of his already-dried hair. When he’d walked out of the bedroom with wet, spiky hair, I’d taken a mental snapshot. Just another way he was making my list of requirements for the guy I did settle down with impossible to meet. Gideon was ruining me for anyone else, one casual look at a time.
“It’s not the fucking syrup,” he growled, dropping to his knees. “It’s you.” He tugged at my leggings. I had to lift myself off the counter so they could slide down my legs. He took the underwear with them too. The hungry way he eyed my pussy went on my list.
Yes, that. I had to have more of that. “Again? Aren’t you tired of, you know, doing that ?”
He’d said he had condoms. Had he forgotten them in the car? Giving me daily oral sex wasn’t part of the bargain.
The dark look he gave me stole all my questions. “Which part would I tire of?” He leaned in and licked through my seam.
My body went into autopilot. I leaned back on my hands and widened my legs. If he got tired of oral, a part of my world would permanently dim.
He caught my gaze and slicked a finger through where he’d just licked. “Do you think I could get tired of the way you get wet for me?” He pushed his finger inside and I moaned. “Or those sexy fucking sounds you make?” One thrust, then two, and he withdrew. I nearly combusted when he put his finger in his mouth and sucked my wetness off. “Maybe you’re worried I’ll get tired of having your flavor on my tongue or hearing you scream my name when you’re coming.”
I nodded because I couldn’t form words.
“My sweet little firecracker, I’m never going to quit craving you.” He tongued my clit again and didn’t let up. I let my head drop back and held on.
The desire inside me built, growing impossibly larger. I gave myself up to him, something I’d been doing since we met, and slammed into my peak. When I careened over, fireworks went off behind my eyes. “Gideon!”
He increased the pressure and added a finger. I could feel myself squeezing around him and my climax got stronger—it’d be his cock next and this was already overwhelming in the best way.
“Fuck, Autumn.”
I was barely aware of him rising. I opened my eyes in time to see him ripping the corner off a condom packet with his teeth at the same time he was shoving his shorts down.
I was wet and dripping, and if I was supposed to be embarrassed, I couldn’t bring myself to care. His erection popped free, straining between us. He was big, his length lined with veins. I wrapped my hand around him, absorbing the heat and strength in my grip. He jerked under my touch, and the empty condom packet fluttered to the floor.
“Remove your hand, firecracker, because I need inside of you right fucking now.”
I took my time taking my hand off him. I wanted to play, but the promising look he gave me said I’d have plenty of time later. He shoved the condom on and notched himself at my entrance. I held on to his shoulders, loving the pressure of his almost intrusion but also needing so much more.
“Gideon?”
A tremor ran through him like he was holding back for me. “Yes?”
“I want you inside me.”
Resolution lined his face and he thrust in.
I gasped at the sheer pleasure, the feeling of fullness, of how overwhelmingly large he was, but also at how I adapted to fit perfectly around him.
He tipped his forehead against mine and rocked into me until he was seated all the way in. “ Fuck .” A little withdrawal and thrust. “Fuuuuck.” Then his mouth was back on mine, consuming me.
I tasted myself, blended with him, and mixed with the way he was moving in me—I was lost. My arousal was a wall cloud, expanding and growing, preparing for another storm. With each thrust, my overly sensitive clit rubbed against him and tossed fuel on the inferno raging inside of me.
He matched the rhythm of his tongue with his hips. Our first time together was as groundbreaking as I hoped it’d be. This would be how he completely ruined me for anyone ever again.
I was nearing another peak, ready to explode, but a faint thought in the back of my head rose. What if this was real? What if he was really into me and not just an opportunist?
What if?—
I veered toward the ecstasy stacked in every facet of my body. No. This was now. I would not allow myself to consider a future with this man. He’d told me what he was after, and it was not a wife and kids.
I would be left with the memories of tons of orgasms, not a broken heart.
Gideo n
I could barely hang on until her walls clamped around me, convulsing. She ripped her mouth away from mine. “Gideon! Yes!”
I held her tight. My hands imprinted on her hips as I gripped her through my peak. I had to squeeze my eyes shut at the pleasure detonating inside me.
“Fuck.” My vocabulary had shrunk to one word. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chanted from between clenched teeth.
My orgasm wouldn’t quit. I shook and hung on to her. She was my lifeline, the only way I’d remain upright instead of taking both of us down. I would not interrupt the best sex of my life by dumping myself and my partner on the floor.
Her cries had quieted by the time I started coming down from my climax. She buried her face in my chest, her sides heaving. I was breathing like I’d sprinted around the block a few times.
What the hell was that?
I’d fucked her against the counter. I liked sex, and I hadn’t thought it’d be bad with Autumn, but I’d had no idea it’d scramble my brains like a carton of eggs. Orgasms weren’t that powerful.
I pried my hands off her soft skin. She still had her shirt on. My shorts were around my ankles, and I just wanted to carry her to bed and hold her until my world steadied back into orbit.
She fisted her hands in my shirt and inhaled. “Wow.”
I didn’t have the energy to chuckle. I wanted her naked and in bed. I had the energy for that. “Yeah.”
I lifted her from the counter. She curled around me like we did this all the time.
What if you could ?
No. This life wasn’t for me. I was coming to terms with that. Just like I was facing the reckoning of my past.
I stepped out of my shorts and walked bare-assed to her bedroom. Thankfully, all the blinds were closed. The whole neighborhood would’ve seen what was my private show. All mine.
She nibbled along my collarbone. My erection decided it didn’t need to wane. I was hard again and ready to go. Maybe because it’d been so long, but I didn’t think so.
Something about Autumn called to me on a level I’d never experienced before. If I was smart, I’d pack my shit and get on the first plane to Las Vegas. I’d reconcile myself with the sale of the land and go about my business. I had a fantastic fucking job and an extravagant place to live. My savings and investments made me a rich man. The place I’d tried to forget for a couple of decades didn’t matter. But I didn’t put a stop to this. Maybe some part of me was as weak as my father, giving in to earthly temptations.
I spotted the open pack of condoms and was grateful I’d bought the biggest damn box the store had.