Chapter 19 #2
“No, I wouldn’t have an exceptionally good showing if you fucked me right now. I’d be worthless, a quarter of the man I usually am.” I groan again. “My back is dead. It has died and doesn’t exist anymore. I’m a noodle human and will need a two-by-four to help stand me up now.”
“That’s incredibly dramatic.”
“Renley Lynn Gossage, I’ve been bent over for the last hour, meticulously sucking and sucking and sucking; excuse me if my back is about to give out.”
“You heard yourself, right? What you just said?”
I glance over at her and whisper, “Look who’s the pervert now.”
“Our visitations have been rubbing off on me.”
“Gossy, if I was rubbing off on you, you sure as hell would know it.”
She groans. “Seriously, is everything that comes out of your mouth a sexual innuendo?”
“No, not everything.” I groan again. “I hope you enjoy your new floor ornament, it’s me, the store’s hobgoblin.
I suck the spirit from the children as they walk by me, attempting to fill my fountain with their youth so that one day, I can rise from this floor like the man I once was.
Please encourage all the kids not to be scared of me. Thank you.”
“I’d say you’re being overly dramatic, but after a few days of doing these floors, I’m feeling it as well.”
“Want me to massage your back for you? Just turn over and I’ll dance my fingers over your shirt.” I wiggle my fingers in the air to give her an example of the kind of massage I can offer.
“How is that helpful?”
“Not sure that it is, but at least I can say I tried to help.”
She chuckles—actually chuckles. My God, my dick just twitched in excitement. “Keep your hands to yourself, Theodore. Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?”
“I don’t recall there being a lesson at all, other than you walking away, so if I were to answer your question, truthfully, no, I didn’t learn a lesson. Now, if you were to, say, gnaw my leg off in punishment, then yes, I’d have learned a lesson while requiring a hospital visit.”
She chuckles. “Have you always been this quick-witted?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
“Then yes.”
She laughs again, and I’m starting to find the sound very addictive. I feel like I have to work hard to hear the sound; she doesn’t hand it out to just anyone, and I’m happy that I could be one of the recipients.
“Are you going to need help staining the floors tomorrow?”
“I can do it myself,” she answers, both of us still lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
“I’m sure you can, but do you want help?”
“I don’t know, are you going to trick me into letting you hold me again?”
“Depends. Did you like it?”
She gives me the side-eye, which makes me laugh. “I’m going to take that as a yes, therefore I’ll be here, same time. But tomorrow, I’ll be sure to show up with muscle cream so I don’t throw my back out.”
“Are you really that old?”
“Uh, pardon me?” I lift up on my elbows. “Did you just ask if I was really that old?”
“I did.”
Preposterous. Not a fleck of gray in my hair or scruff, which is an accomplishment given the genes in my family. My skin is like glass, smooth and luscious. And not a single laugh line around my eyes.
Okay, that’s a lie. I might have a laugh line or two, but they’re barely noticeable.
“I’ll have you know, I’m a young thirty.”
“What is a young thirty?”
“That’s none of your business. Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lord’s age?”
“Is that a bylaw in the old English countryside?” The smallest of smirks pulls on her lips.
“It is, and if you ask our age, then it’s treason, so have fun being tied up in shackles.”
“Oh no, I’m truly shaken,” she says, her voice full of sarcasm, which I love because—whispers—I’m winning her over. I can feel it. Day by day, I’m winning her over.
“I can sense the fear, and you know, because I don’t want you to have to sleep on a dungeon floor for eternity, I’ll do you a solid and not report you, but of course, that comes with a cost.”
“And let me guess, that cost is my hand in marriage?”
“You’re astute.”
She laughs. “Not happening.”
“Welp.” I heave a heavy sigh. “Enjoy the cold, moldy floor of the Dunebary dungeon then. I’ll toss you a crumb every now and then when I get a chance to visit you.
Won’t be often though. Rights to five visitations per day go straight out the window if you’re a prisoner in the dungeon. Can’t be seen with the likes of you.”
“Your loss.”
“I know it would be. But that’s how society works. I can’t muck around with the rule breakers.”
“Should I wait for someone to come get me, or are you going to take me to the dungeon yourself?”
My head lolls to the side and her eyes meet mine. “My breath just got stuck in my chest, because dare I say, was that a sexual innuendo?”
“Have you lost your mind? No. How could that be a sexual innuendo?”
“Clearly you haven’t partied enough.”
“Need I remind you,” she asks, sitting up now, crossing her legs and facing me, “that we’ve led two vastly different lives?
I’m sure you lived up the lord life over there in England, but I have never really left this town.
This is all I know, so yeah, I didn’t party because there weren’t really any parties to go to growing up here. ”
“You’ve never left Cape Meril?” I ask, wondering how that could be.
“I mean, I’ve done a small road trip here and there, but I’ve never been on an airplane, I don’t even have a passport, and I couldn’t tell you what the West Coast looks like without reciting what I know from TV and movies.”
“Wow,” I say, rubbing my cheek with my palm. “That’s…that’s really interesting to think about.”
“Let me guess, you’ve traveled the world.”
“Yeah, I’ve been to some places,” I say, knowing full well when I say some, I mean a lot. I might despise my father, but he did take us to many countries when we were growing up. So I’ve got to hand that to him. We are very well cultured.
“What has been your favorite place?”
A question, from her. Was not expecting that because she hasn’t been quite the conversationalist but I’m going to run with it. Try not to scare her away from wanting to spend more time with me.
I give it some thought. “Cape Meril, Massachusetts.” Her expression falls, so I hold up my hand and say, “Just kidding. I mean it’s nice here, but it really doesn’t compare to Spain.
I love it there, so much. I love the people, I love the architecture, I love the food. Easily my favorite place to go.”
“Have you gone a lot?”
“Yeah, for a while we went almost every year because my father had some business there.”
“Business? I thought he was a lord.”
“Eh, he called it business, but I’m unsure what it really was.”
“From the sound of it, you’re not very close with him.”
“I am not. Rather, I distinctly hope he gets his dick caught in his zipper. On the daily.”
She winces. “Ouch, that’s a pretty serious punishment.”
“That’s mild compared to what I really want to do.”
“Knock, knock, food delivery,” Rupert says as he surprises us with a bag of food.
“Food delivery?” Renley asks.
“Correct. I was outside, soaking up some sun, when your aunt Kitty asked me what was for dinner. Given Theo asked me the same thing, I thought, why not feed everyone, so, dinner is on me. Bon appétit.”
He sets the bag down and then takes off, leaving us alone once again.
Renley eyes the bag. “What do you think is in there?”
“Honestly, no goddamn clue. He’s not much of a cook, so I’m fairly sure we should be frightened.”
“Should I look?”
“Better you than me.”
Her beautiful eyes search mine. “Why better me than you?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Just seemed like the right thing to say.”
She shakes her head and grabs the bag. Her brow raises when she sees inside it.
“What’s in there?”
She reaches into the bag and starts pulling things out. “Chocolate-covered strawberries, wine, and whipped cream. Seems awfully…romantic.”
All of a sudden, the lights in the store dim and instrumental music plays from the back.
“Theo…”
I hold up my hands. “I swear, I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“So you didn’t text your little butler friend and have him bring you all of this and set up an evening for two?”
“No, I didn’t.” When she continues to look at me, I add, “I swear, I didn’t say anything about this.
I asked for dinner, but I was hoping for a chicken roast or something like that.
I never asked for wine, whipped cream, and chocolate-covered strawberries.
” I gesture around the room. “And also, we don’t know anything about this shop.
How did he change the lighting and add the music?
He had help, and that help was probably the lady with a hobby horse between her legs. ”
“Are you saying that your butler and my aunt are in cahoots?”
“I don’t know, but it’s looking suspicious. Also if you’re going to call Rupert my butler, then we’ll need to call your aunt something.”
“Like what?”
“Something horse-ish. Uh…stallion, mustang, steed…oh, filly. My butler, your gelding.”
“That works for me.”
“Great, now back to the conversation at hand. My butler and your gelding are in cahoots. I bet they’ve been planning this all day and now that it’s happened, they’re off somewhere cackling that their evil plan worked.”
“Who said it worked?”
“Oh, because I plan on sitting here with you, under the dim lights, listening to this music while eating chocolate-covered strawberries and drinking wine.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“Oh, you will.”