Chapter 8 #2
“Over to the main house. I figured it was safer to drive than have you twist your ankle in those shoes,” he answers, holding open the passenger door.
I have a pair of Mary Janes and a pair of kicks in my suitcase, but I wanted to seem professional. Now it feels like I’m trying too hard. “Wait, I was fine when we walked home last night.”
“I know, but I’m not taking the chance of you getting hurt.” Andrew says it like it’s perfectly natural for him to be so concerned.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lift my chin so I can meet his gaze.
Yesterday I was off-kilter. I still am today, if I’m honest, but it doesn’t mean I have to let him see it.
“If you give me a minute, I’ll run inside and change.
” There’s no way I’m letting him drive me the two thousand or so feet to the main house like some pampered princess.
At my words, Andrew’s grin lights up his whole face, eye crinkling at the side, and a dimple even appears just above his close-cropped beard. “Okay, but be careful. The door’s unlocked.”
I’m smart enough to hold my eye roll until I turn toward the cabin.
You’d think I didn’t make my way across cracked sidewalks and storm drains every day for the last few months.
It’s still sweet that he’s worried about me, but I don’t get his motivation.
He didn’t even let me get him off last night.
When he returned from his shower, he climbed into bed and pulled me into his arms, telling me to go to sleep, even when I offered to give him a blow job—not that I’d be very good at it. Is it weird that he refused?
As I hurry back to the cabin, last night replays in my head, and I almost trip on a rock next to the porch.
When I don’t hear the expected “I told you so,” I carefully make my way up the stairs and through the front door.
After leaving my pumps by the door, I run down the hall to the bedroom and grab my flats from the suitcase.
They are much comfier, but I miss the extra four inches already.
Andrew is leaning against the porch post when I step back out the front door. “Ready?”
“Yup, lead the way, boss.” I try not to smirk, but I don’t think I’m very successful when his eyebrows climb toward his hairline.
When he responds with, “I prefer Daddy,” in his deep, commanding voice, my pussy clenches, and I might as well say goodbye to dry panties for the day.
Last night, I thought it was part of his bedroom play. But hearing him say it now feels totally different. Surely, he can’t be serious. My instinct is to throw it back in his face, or to ask him what exactly he means. Instead, I squeeze my lips together to avoid saying something I’ll regret.
While we walk toward the main house, I try to take in as much of the area as possible. Living on this mountain must be amazing.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asks.
“Absolutely. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I don’t blame you for living here instead of California. If I had a choice, I would, too. Wow, is that a garden?” I sound like a child on a class trip, oohing and ahhing over all the sights.
“It is. Rebekah and Hannah have mostly taken it over since they married my brothers. We try to live off the land as much as possible. We hunt and fish for a lot of our meat when we can. Although Asher used to hunt daily before Emma.”
“Really? Is that why he’s not part of the company?” I know I shouldn’t ask questions, especially when they’re already suspicious of me, but I can’t resist learning as much as possible.
“He’s part of the company, just more of a silent partner. His background is in forestry, and he prefers to be outside as much as he can. When he found Emma, he settled down. Although you can’t keep her out of the forest, either. They’re truly meant for each other.”
I have more questions, but we’re at the house. I swallow down the lump in my throat as nerves twist my stomach into knots. Andrew’s words from last night reverberate in my head.
“It’ll be fine, little bit. Answer our questions, tell the truth, and trust me, everything will be fine,” Andrew says as he laces his fingers with mine and squeezes before pulling open the back door.
His family is already bustling around the kitchen when we step inside.
Breakfast preparation is in full swing, but it’s Asher who’s cooking this morning.
The women are sitting around the island with coffee, the men putting the meal together.
The role reversal is weird to see, but maybe I’m the one who has it screwed up.
Glancing at our clasped hands, I feel safe, protected. But I shouldn’t. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I don’t know this man at all. Although after last night, he knows me a hell of a lot better. Ugh. Before I let myself go down that path, I lean closer to him and tug on his hand.
“I thought you said we were gonna talk this morning,” I whisper for his ears only. It was a good plan until I inhale his sandalwood and bourbon scent, filling me with need.
“We are, baby, but you need to eat first,” he answers as he leads me into what feels like the fray. Except the tension I picked up from all of them last night isn’t here this morning.
“Good morning, Jaclyn. Sleep in this morning, Andrew?” Adrian asks with a smirk.
“It’s my fault. I mean, I decided to change my shoes and made us late,” I stammer, not even sure why I need to defend Andrew. He can certainly take care of himself.
“He’s teasing, Sweetpea. Keep fucking around, Adrian, and find out what happens,” Andrew responds.
“Stop messing around, and let’s eat. Our pregnant wives are starving,” Asher growls, although it sounds more like a growl than actual speech.
“Hi, Jaclyn, did you sleep well?” Emma asks as I take my seat at the island. She’s smiling but pale this morning, and then I remember what Asher just said.
“You’re all pregnant?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Rebekah giggles, then shakes her head. “Nope, just me and Emma. But the way these guys are, I’m sure Hannah will be soon.”
Seriously? Hannah’s holding a baby, a young one, I think.
And she’s going to have another? Is there a baby-making drug in the water up here?
“Really? Wow.” I can’t keep the shock out of my voice, but damn.
These women are around my age, and I sure as hell know I’m not anywhere near ready to take care of another person—I can barely take care of myself.
Adam kisses Rebekah’s forehead as he places a platter of bacon on the island. “We all want large families. Growing up with lots of siblings is amazing.”
I nod, because what else can I do? Being in foster care with other kids isn’t the same. I didn’t stay in the houses long enough to make any friends. The closest thing I have to family is Cheri.
The men load plates of food for each of their wives, just like at dinner, before doing their own. I know that never happened in any of my foster homes, and once again, I wonder if this is how normal families function.
“Coffee?” Adam asks as he walks around the island with a pot of coffee.
“Oh, yes, please. It’s a necessity for life,” I answer. Crap. I’m such a dork.
“I agree,” he says as he fills the mug I hadn’t noticed.
“Cream and sugar there.” Then he points toward a small pitcher and a sugar bowl.
“Thank you.” Before I can reach for them, Andrew puts them near me, and I smile my thanks.
“Bacon or sausage?” Andrew asks as he adds a spoonful of scrambled eggs to a plate.
“Umm, oh. Bacon, please, just one slice, though. I can get my own food, you know.”
“I know. But I want to, is that a problem?” He quirks an eyebrow while he waits for my answer, and I shake my head.
“No problem. Thank you.” The last thing I want to do is make a scene in front of the others, but I really don’t understand him. He’s been acting like we’re a couple, but I’m just an employee he dragged to his mountain to interrogate.
I must make a face, because he leans close to my ear and whispers, “You’re thinking too hard again. We’ll talk after breakfast. Everything is fine, baby. Try to relax.”
Nodding, I look at the plate he places in front of me. It’s stacked with not one but three pieces of bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit salad. Does he seriously think I can eat all of this?
He chuckles. “Eat what you can.”
Like last night, the food is delicious, and I hum in approval as the scrambled eggs melt in my mouth. I don’t look over, but I can feel Andrew’s gaze on me. “This is really good, thank you.”
Asher grunts but has a hint of a smile on his face.
Aaron smiles. “I’m glad you like it. These are from our chickens. And most of the vegetables come from the gardens you walked by on the way here. If we can’t grow or raise it here, we try to locally source everything.”
“You have chickens, too? The garden looked amazing. Living off the land is a dream for most people. It’s so different from my life.” They’re looking at me expectantly, but everything I wanted to share, I did already.
“Do you like being a lawyer?” Rebekah asks.
“Mostly. I suppose contract law isn’t most people’s dream job, but it’s stable when you work for a large company, like JNG. I guess knowing all my hard work paid off is the best part.”
Rebekah nods and looks thoughtful.
Her sister, Hannah, is quiet. She’s spoken the least of all the women, and she surprises me when her soft voice asks, “We didn’t go to school. Our mother homeschooled us for a while. We’re working on our GEDs now.”
I’m not sure I hide my surprise very well, but it makes sense after what they shared last night.
“That’s wonderful. You should be proud of yourselves.
If I can help at all while I’m here, I’d be happy to,” I offer, and mean it, too.
It was a stupid thing to say. They won’t need my help.
I’m leaving soon—maybe even today—and my cheeks heat.
Andrew’s hand squeezes my thigh under the island, making me glance at him. His smile is gentle, softer than any I’ve seen from him yet. “Finish up, then we’ll go talk in my office. Okay?”
His words are innocent, but they still erase whatever appetite I have. After drinking the rest of my coffee, I push away my plate. “I’m ready when you are. Thank you again for breakfast.”
Andrew squeezes my thigh again. “Let’s go then.” Then he looks across the island and says, “Adrian, when you’re done, come to my office.”
“Talk to you later,” Emma calls out with a smile.
“If you have time, we’ll give you a tour of the garden,” Rebekah adds.
“Sounds good. I’m just not sure what’s going on yet,” I answer, then look up at Andrew. He’s like a giant as he stands next to me; his expression blank, giving away nothing. He must be an excellent poker player.