Chapter 7
PORTER
A crash from the living room interrupts the connection building between us and Reena is racing out of the kitchen before I can stop her.
"Uncle Cliff?" There's no mistaking the panic in her voice. "Are you okay."
I follow her out, determined to help however I can. Just like when we first met, I recognize something of myself in the older man, and hate to see him struggling.
"Bevvy?" Cliff is looking out the front window, his bowl of cobbler broken on the floor, a puddle of melted vanilla ice cream staining the hardwood. "I should get ready for work. I'm going to be late."
Reena doesn't correct him when he calls her by the wrong name. "You don't have to work tonight. I checked the schedule. You've got a night off."
Some of the tension leaves him, and he gives her an uncertain nod. "Oh. Okay, then. I must've forgot."
I kneel down and pick up the pieces of the broken dish, taking it back into the kitchen and throwing it away, then grab a towel, running it under the faucet to wipe up the spilled ice cream.
As I clean the floor, I can hear Reena's steady voice as she talks her uncle into getting ready for bed. By the time she comes back out, the kitchen is wiped down, the dishwasher is running, and the sticky remains of cobbler and ice cream are gone.
"Oh wow." She looks around, surprise washing over her. "You didn't have to do all this."
"I know."
She hesitates, looking over her shoulder at the door to her uncle's bedroom. "Thank you."
Before I can stop her, she's crossed the room and thrown her arms around me, hugging me hard. A lump forms in my throat at her gratitude, and it feels good to hug her back. Her body matches up perfectly against mine. It feels real, even if only for this brief moment of time.
"Am I interrupting something?" Cliff's voice from the doorway has us stepping apart.
"No. Not at all." Reena shakes her head, but there's a pink tinge to her cheeks that has me thinking I wasn't the only one feeling something.
"You gonna kiss each other or not?" He chuckles and now I might be the one blushing as I look down at her pretty mouth.
I reach for her, slow and careful, sliding a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.
Her chin tilts up, rising to the challenge, and letting me guide this.
I brush my lips over hers, a teasing pressure, and she gives a quiet gasp at the spark that ignites from that simple contact.
The scent of her surrounds me as I pull back only a fraction, searching her eyes for any hesitation.
She watches me back and her hands glide up the muscles of my chest. I brace myself for her to push me away, but instead, she leans in, like she's using my frame for support. I take it for what it appears to be.
Permission.
This time, I don't tease. I seal my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp, and indulge in the feel of her. The taste of her. It's heady and I want more. Her fingers tighten in the fabric of my shirt and I don't hold back. It's easy to lose myself in the feel of her curves pressed against me.
"Now that's the real deal." The comment breaks through the haze overwhelming us, a reminder that we're not alone. And this performance was exactly that. A performance.
But if that was strictly true, my cock wouldn't be aching and hard as stone right now.
"Uncle Cliffy," she protests, turning to look at him with fond exasperation and maybe a bit of relief that she has an excuse to cut the connection humming between us. "You need to take your medicine."
"I won't forget. Just like I won't forget my morning run. Or the flowers for Mrs. Calloway." He waves to me as he starts to go back into his bedroom. "Good night to you, son."
"Good night, sir."
Reena watches him go and sighs, then meets my gaze once more. "Thank you for that. Evenings can be tough. His memory gets worse, he's more irritated and angry about things. Confuses me with my mom."
"You're managing a lot." It's true, but it's not enough. "I'm glad I could help tonight."
She offers me a small smile. "You made things easier. That's worth a lot. I'm really grateful."
The memory of that kiss lingers in the quiet that stretches between us and my fingers itch to reach for her once more. But I don't give in to the urge.
"What did your uncle mean when he said he won't forget about his morning run?"
Reena sighs and leans in, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Ever since he came back here, he'd go for a run at 5:30 every morning. Rain or shine. He still does, or tries to, but he's gotten himself lost more than once. I've started sleeping out here on the couch to intercept him."
I look down at the old, upholstered sofa. It doesn't look comfortable. And Reena, well, she looks tired.
"Get some sleep. In your own bed." Her mouth drops open, and I reach for her hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be here at five. He can't get lost if I'm with him."
"You don't have to do that."
"I know. But I'm going to do it anyway." She looks like she wants to argue so I place a finger against her lips, relishing the feel. It makes me want to kiss her all over again. "Now, get some sleep."
I don't give her a chance to say anything. Just force myself to stop touching her, turn around and walk out the door, leaving her alone for the night.