Chapter 16
Sixteen
ELLIS
Mari,
It’s rained all week, and I feel myself becoming gloomy as winter gets nearer. Sometimes, I think of trying to meet someone, that having company might be nice. I’m not sure it would be fair to anyone.
Are you happy? I hope someone is.
Your Luc
I stare down at the slip of paper, written in the same craggy, uneven handwriting as I’ve seen on the others. By now, I have quite the collection going. A box sits beside my makeshift-desk in the center of the library, almost overflowing with scrawled missives from the former owner of these books to some unknown woman.
Josephine came in a few days ago to retrieve an escaped Zoe, and ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor for nearly twenty minutes, reading one after another. We talked about it later, when we lay tangled together on her bed, her cheek resting on my bare chest.
“I think he loved her, and she died. This must have been his way of grieving.”
My opinion wasn’t so concrete. “It doesn’t explain why they’re all second editions.” I pointed out, but the discussion was forgotten as Josephine’s hand drifted to my cock.
This note is the first to confirm that the intended recipient isn’t—or wasn’t at the time—dead. Still, it reveals none of Perdue’s motives, and I find myself unable to shake the curiosity. The books themselves leave more than enough mystery to be concerning myself with, and yet these little missives are what keep me up at night wondering.
That is, when I’m not being kept up by Josephine Sutton.
In the weeks since our collision in the foyer, I’ve fucked her every night, sometimes twice. If I expected that having sex regularly for the first time in half a decade would more than satisfy me, I was mistaken. Every time we’re together, every new memory of her hands on me and mine on her only makes me greedier for more.
With a speed that is more than a little alarming, it’s become clear there is nothing casual about this so-called arrangement. It’s a special kind of nightly torture when I’m forced to pull away from her, put my clothes back on and return to my cold, empty bed. Though it’s nothing compared to the times when I catch a glimpse of the hurt she doesn’t want me to see.
Our relationship now defies every instinct I have where she is concerned. It isn’t right, and yet, there isn’t a choice. I can’t keep her , but reminding myself doesn’t help. If my connection with Josephine could be reasoned away, we wouldn’t be in this position to begin with. I’m a man obsessed, not just with her, but with the way she makes me feel .
In the wake of my divorce, I was too busy adjusting to the reality of becoming a single parent to recover from the emotional effects of Miranda’s betrayal. How is it that I never noticed my low opinion of myself until Josephine made me feel good again?
The thought of my lover has my attention straying far from the task at hand. For a moment, my fingers only hover above my laptop’s keyboard as I stare blindly into the screen, trying to return my concentration to the reason we’re here at all— my job . It’s Saturday, but I wanted to get some extra work in while Zoe was occupied with a puzzle.
Just as I’ve regained some semblance of productivity, however, there’s a knock on the library door.
My heart lifts when I see who it is.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Josephine says gently, not moving further into the room. Her dark curls are braided back today as usual, but instead of her usual uniform of shorts and t-shirts, she’s wearing a dress I’ve never seen before. I’m positive I would remember it.
“You’re never bothering me. I’m not even supposed to be working today,” I assure her, eyeing the white cotton without bothering to disguise my approval. I crook my finger and feel myself smirk. “Come here.”
Her lips curve too as she moves closer, stopping beside me and leaning her hip against the table. I consciously have to stop myself from reaching out to touch the curve of her waist. God knows we don’t always follow the rules, but Zoe could be anywhere right now. I need to keep my hands to myself.
“You look very beautiful today,” I observe, my voice throaty. “I haven’t seen you in this before.”
She fiddles with one of the straps self-consciously. “Oh. Well, I just finished it this morning, so?—”
“ You made this? ”
Nodding shyly, she pushes off the table, turning to give me the full effect. The garment is simple but looks professionally made, and I’m stunned that it was sewn by the same woman who was asking me to put the ancient machine back in the attic only a few weeks ago.
There’s a lump in my throat and a burning in my chest. It’s always difficult maintaining the boundaries we set, but at moments like this, or when I see her adoration of Zoe, it’s damned near impossible. How could any man on Earth not fall for this woman? She’s incredible.
“It was pretty easy. I just followed the pattern I got online. What do you think?” Josephine questions, and there’s a vulnerability in her voice that needs to be put to rest immediately.
I reach out to take her hand, and she allows herself to be pulled forward, stopping between my legs. This time, I don’t hold myself back from touching her the way my body demands. I feel rather than hear her breath catch as my hands settle on her waist, feeling the familiar curves of her body through the cotton. “ Je ne me suis jamais senti comme ?a avant. ” ? *
She touches my shoulders, a little line forming between her eyebrows as she gazes down at me. “What does that mean?”
I swallow. “It means you’re stunning, and I can’t believe how good you’ve gotten with that machine.”
Josephine smiles in thanks, but there’s something in her eyes that says my lie wasn’t quite as believable as I’d like it to be. She draws away, and my hands fall back to my lap. “I just wanted to see if it was okay if I took the car today. It’s in your name and everything, so I think you’d need to call the rental company to get me added to the insurance or whatever. If it’s extra money, I can pay for it.”
“You’re already on the car insurance, I had you added at the airport,” I reply, surprised she didn’t know. “And of course you can take it. Where— ah —do you have plans?”
What does it say about me that I don’t want her off on her own? I’m not a controlling man. Nothing would make me happier than for her to have these new experiences, to see my home country and fall in love with this life she’s forged for herself.
I just want to be at her side when she does.
“No plans.” She draws her finger along the edge of the table. “I just wanted to do some shopping. Trying to change it up a little and since it takes me about two weeks to make a single dress…” She smiles wryly.
Throwing caution to the wind, I pull her into my lap, dragging her lips to mine before she even has time to gasp. My tongue darts out, parting her lips, and licking away the taste of the strawberries she must have just been eating. She tastes like summer and sin and mine . It’s been less than twelve hours since the last time I was inside her, but I’m starving as if it’s been weeks.
“What was that for?” Josephine asks breathlessly when our kiss ends, pupils wide and lips parted.
I tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “Let me take you shopping.”
Josephine makes a noise of protest, but I silence it with another deep, searching kiss, keeping my hearing strained for the telltale sounds of Zoe approaching.
When we break apart again, she’s frowning. “Do most fathers take their child’s nanny shopping?” There’s a disapproving, haughty quality to her voice that makes me grin.
“No, but men do their lovers.” Another kiss, and, clearly against her own will, she melts into me. I’m determined to win this one. Maybe it’s old-fashioned, but I like the idea of her wearing things I’ve bought her, and love the idea of spoiling this hardworking woman.
Jo goes above and beyond for Zoe and me every single day. She deserves to have everything she’s ever wanted, and I’ll make sure she does. Even if it means dragging her from store to store and buying women’s clothing at random until she relents.
Then, because I still haven’t gotten a response, my smile slips. “Unless you’d rather go on your own, of course.”
Josephine is shaking her head before I’ve finished the sentence. “I’d love company, but I can buy my own clothes, Ellis!”
I hum, pretending to take this seriously. “We’ll see.”
The three of us are in the car thirty minutes later, driving past the village and out toward the small city a few kilometers south. Zoe is settled in her booster seat, brow furrowed and noise canceling headphones in place as she takes in the scenery.
“She’s talking more than I’ve ever heard,” I admit under my breath, heart full to bursting, when I peer in the rearview mirror and meet Zoe’s bright gaze. She sticks her tongue out at me. I stick mine out back. Turning my attention back to the road, it takes an inordinate amount of concentration to keep myself from reaching out and taking the hand of the woman beside me. “I can’t thank you enough. You’re incredible with her.”
Jo laughs. “You say that like it’s some kind of burden for me. I love spending time with honey girl. I think I tell you how awesome she is at least once a day.” She casts a fond look over her shoulder toward my daughter, who is now absorbed in attacking a coloring book with a neon pink marker. Then, “Have you noticed that you only call me Jo when in reference to Zoe?” she asks curiously. “But when it’s just us, you call me Josephine?”
I hadn’t realized I was doing that, but now that I think about it, she’s not wrong. “I suppose it’s my way of keeping it separate,” I muse, staring straight ahead. “Things are a bit… muddled .”
Muddled is an understatement, but in the corner of my eye, I see Josephine nodding in silent understanding.
We don’t speak for the rest of the drive, apart from idle commentary on the beautiful scenery flashing by outside the windows. Coming here means so much more to me than I thought it would. The last time I did, it was to visit my mother shortly after the divorce and I was too busy spiraling to enjoy it.
Now, it’s good again. The chateau has been a dream, but it’s more than that. The countryside, the slower, more family focused way of life, the wine— God, I missed the wine . This is my home, and if it weren’t for getting my dream job, I’m positive I wouldn’t have lasted so long in Connecticut.
The nearest city to us, Moulins , is crowded with visitors for the weekly street market. Zoe and Jo stare out the windows with round eyes, pointing out fountains, churches and other landmarks as we pass. Zoe snatches both of our hands the moment we’re out of the car, squealing with delight when Jo and I lift her off her feet over and over again.
The three of us eat lunch beneath a striped awning at a little cafe, our chairs rocking over the cobblestones as we listen to a man playing a bright green piano across the square. Zoe, miraculously, doesn’t throw a fit over her grilled cheese sandwich coming with white cheese instead of yellow and Josephine gives me a warning look when I lift my thumb to wipe a little spot of cream from above her lip.
I give her one right back when she offers to pay for her own meal.
Afterward, we stumble across a collection of women’s clothing boutiques. Zoe has limited patience for watching Jo peruse racks of dresses, so I slip my credit card to the amused salesman before taking her across the street to watch fudge being made in a shop window.
There isn’t a doubt in my mind that if Josephine knew I was paying, I’d be lucky if she allowed me to buy her a single pair of socks. It’s gratifying when she emerges onto the street twenty minutes later with a sour expression and two full bags in her hands.
“I believe this is yours.” She slaps the card down into my palm, glowering me. “Ellis, this is too much. You need to take it out of my pay.”
God, do I want to kiss her.
Pleased with my underhanded victory, I scoff. “No.”
She’s adorable when she’s flustered. “I spent like… a lot of money!”
“Good!” It’s only catching sight of Zoe’s curious expression that makes me step back from Josephine, clearing my throat. “Where next?”
We spend the next few hours wandering the city in search of more Zoe-friendly entertainment. The onslaught of new stimulation and walking begins getting to her just before dinner, and she rides on my shoulders back to the car. We’ve barely gotten on the road again before a quick glance in the rear-view mirror confirms she’s passed out.
“Too much fun,” Josephine giggles under her breath, reaching into a bag at her feet and producing a box of macaroons. She selects an almond one and hands it over to me, already knowing full well it’s the one I’d pick myself.
I take a bite, filled with an unbridled, full body happiness that has nothing to do with the sugary treat melting over my tongue. “Did you have a good day?”
Josephine curls her legs up beside her and leans over the center console, resting her head on my shoulder. Her fingertips drift over the swell of my bicep. “I had a perfect day.”
Emotion clogs my throat, and I reach across my chest to catch her hand, dragging it up to kiss the delicate, translucent skin on the underside of her wrist.
As we drive, it occurs to me that from the beginning, I’ve been looking for reasons I shouldn’t fall for this woman. How did it escape my notice that there were so many more reasons I should?
* ? I’ve never felt like this before.