Chapter 23
Ivy
I take a deep breath as the car stops at a quaint-looking house in upstate New York. Ever since he informed me we had been invited to visit his mother, I have been dreading this meeting. Now, I was a few minutes from seeing her again after a decade. I want to grab the wheel and make a U-turn back to the city. Back to a comfortable state of being.
I had been dreading coming here ever since Damien mentioned the trip. I don’t know what his mother, Lorna, must think of me, but whatever it is, it’s not good. As someone who once worked for my father, I doubt she had anything nice to say about my family, and how we treated her son.
The son had driven himself this time. When he told me this, I expected him to take us to one of his sports cars. Instead, Damien stopped at a sedan. An expensive German type, but not one of his ostentatious and restrictive cars that he likes to drive. “What happened to your Ferrari?” I asked as I secured Lake into the car seat.
“I traded it in for a more practical model,” he said.
“Practical for what? Shopping errands at the mall?”
He shrugged. “School runs. Carpooling. Turns out, safety seats don’t fit very well in Ferraris.”
I tried not to dwell on how kind and forward-thinking he was about our son as I got into the passenger seat. Yet, with an entire trip ahead, it was going to be hard. The journey was quiet mostly. Damien and Lake did most of the talking. I distracted myself from the handsome man next to me by dwelling on my meeting with his mother. Now that we’re here, the dread has only doubled.
Damien cuts the engine. An older woman with features like his, and dare I say, like Lake’s, appears at the door. She smiles and waves at the car. “We’re Damien says to Lake.” I turn to see him already asleep, his head leaning on the seatbelt. “Lake?” I say, nudging his leg. He jolts up and darts his gaze around. We have been traveling for some time; no wonder he’s tired. But then again, Lake falls asleep the second he gets into a moving vehicle. I help him out of his seat, much to his consternation.
Damien’s mother is waiting to greet us outside. She’s older than I remember, but she still has the same regal charm and poise she had back when I knew her. Back when she was my father’s assistant. I never saw her again after she resigned following my father firing Daemon. She worked for my father for decades, but her loyalty was first to her son. I’ve always wondered what she thought of me. What version of me did she hear from Damien? One of hate and derision, most likely.
But when she greets me, her hug is warm and comforting, and her smile seems genuine. “You have grown into a beautiful lady,” she says to me when we part. I take hold of Lake’s hand and draw him to her. “And is that the handsome gentleman I’ve heard so much about?” Lake looks unsure, like he always does whenever he meets new people. “How are you?” she says, extending her hand to him. Lake looks at me for approval. I nod, and he takes her hand.
“Lake,” I say, “This is your grandmother, your father’s mother, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sinclair.”
She chuckles. “You can call me Grandma or Grand mommy if you like.”
Lake steps back and leans against my leg, which elicits another laugh from Lorna Sinclair.
“He’s a bit shy when he’s around new people, but he’ll come out of his shell once he gets to know you,”I say.
“A bit like you.” Lorna lightly jabs Damien. “You didn’t want to be around people you didn’t know. You’d cling to my dress whenever we were in a new environment.”
Damien’s cheeks redden. A first. I was sure the man didn’t blush.
Lorna takes us into her house, and it is just as cozy as it looks on the outside. It’s styled like an American country house, but on a smaller scale. Lorna invites us to sit while she brings in tea and cookies, a treat that pleases Lake. Damien and I sit side by side on the same couch. My body is acutely aware of his, as always. The cologne that assaulted my senses on our trip here teases my nostrils now as I sit quietly and listen to mother and son catch up on each other’s lives.
It’s not that difficult to see how much affection the two have for each other. Damien’s demeanor is different around Lorne. He’s warm, soft and gentle. The only other time I’ve ever seen him like this is with Lake. Maybe that’s why he’s a good father. He treats Lake the way his mother treats him. With a kindness and gentle touch that I wish my mother had.
I feel a light squeeze on my thigh and turn to Damien.
“How is your family,” Lorne says.
I had become so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t hear her speak. “Sorry. They’re lovely,” I respond, sipping the tea.
“I hope my son didn’t cause trouble for your family. The papers were saying--”
“Don’t believe anything you read,” Damien cut in.
“So the rumors of the two of you being married are untrue?”
Damien shifts uncomfortably. He takes my hand in his and holds it on his thigh, making sure my ring is visible. “That part they got right. You know I told you so.”
Lorna shrugs and sips her drink. “You only told me you had gotten married. I was never invited to the wedding. It made me wonder what sort of wedding is it where one doesn’t even tell their mother, they’re about to get married.”
Damien and I both chuckle wearily. Before coming here, he had told me his mother didn’t like that we got married so hastily and was a little miffed that she wasn’t invited to the wedding. I didn’t ask him why he didn’t just tell her the truth. That it’s a simple marriage of convenience. Whatever he told his mother, it was clear he didn’t want to tell her the truth of our relationship, so I agreed to the lie. Now I turn to him for a cue, but he stares straight ahead at his mother. “It was initially meant to be a small and private ceremony, but we ended up in Vegas one night and decided to make it official there and then,” Damien says.
Lorna raises her eyebrows. I’m not sure she buys it. “And you never thought to tell your mother? I had to hear it from the news.”
“Like I said, I was going to tell you, but the gossip got ahead of me.”
“I didn’t even know you two were together. When did that happen?”
“We’ve been seeing each other on and off. For some time now,” I add. Damien had told me that Lorna didn’t know about the fallout, or at least my involvement in it. So we agreed on a story that explained both Lake and the quick marriage. “Dated a little, split up, got together again recently, and found that we still loved each other.”
Lorna looks unconvinced. She definitely thinks there’s more to the story and can smell bullshit from a mile away. So I try another tactic. “I’ve always had a crush on your son ever since I was a teenager. I even tried to come on to him a few times, but he flat out refused me. One day, however, I asked him out on a date. He agreed, and we dated for a while. We split up and later I found out I was pregnant. That was just after he left Hawthorne Inc. I didn’t want to burden him with a child. His career was on the rise and it felt like telling him I had a son would be shackling myself to him.”
Damien squeezes my hand. “It wouldn’t have been sweetheart.” My chest warms and I have to remind myself that it’s all a performance. I continue. “I should have said something to him back then, but I didn’t. Then we met again. And he reminded me of all the good times we had before.”
“And then we ended up getting married,” Damien added.
Lorna seems more convinced this time around. She smiles and says, “I’ve always known there was something between you two.” I feel my cheeks redden. She must be thinking about all the times I had shown my overenthusiastic affection for Damien.
Lorna turns her attention to Lake to the relief of Damien and I. She becomes instantly enamored by him and Lake by her. That age-old connection between grandparent and grandchild jumps into gear for both of them. Everything Lake does seems to charm Lorna, and Lake seems to love to perform for her. She can’t stop remarking how smart he is and how cute, to the delight of Lake. She listens to Lake as he regales him with stories of his school and friends. The topic moves to apples, and Lorna suggests they pick some from the orchard. We all got outside, Lorna & Lake in front, Damien & I in tow.
The usually scorching summer sun is cooler today, making the impromptu excursion more fun than it would have been on any other summer day. The orchard is well tended to and the trees are lined perfectly in neat rows that create a natural corridor where the branches touch and the bright red apples dangle beneath the arch. Some have fallen and are in the process of decaying. They speckle the ground with shades of green, red, yellow, and brown.
“The man you hired is not doing his job properly.” Damien sounds irritated. His face is marred with a frown as he surveys the orchard, not seeing the beauty I am seeing. Lorna seems not to be bothered as well. She picks an apple from a tree, rubs it on her jeans, and offers it to Lake. “He’s doing just fine.”
“You need to hire more people.”
Lorna picks another apple and throws it into the basket Lake is holding. “And turn a hobby into a business?” She picks another apple and turns to Lake. “And what would be fun about that?” Lake giggles.
“The least he can do is clean up the orchard,” Damien retorts. Lorna seems unperturbed and continues whatever conversation she’s having with Lake. Damien huffs and leaves.
“Where did he go?” I ask to myself. One minute he was standing next to me, the next he’s gone.
“To find a rake,” Lorna replies without turning her back. “He gets like this whenever he visits. He hates seeing things being done not as properly and professionally.” She turns to pick more apples that are closer to where I am standing. I assist her in taking a few that are ripe and throwing them in the basket. “He likes to take control of things, but I’m sure you know this about him.”
I nod. “He can be a little taxing, but his heart’s in the right place.”
“I don’t know. As much as this place is my project. I feel like it’s a project for him as well.”
“Oh, really?”
“Damien gave it to me as a birthday gift. Even though I enjoyed living and working in the city. I love living out here and growing something of my own. He knew this, of course, and bought the prettiest farmhouse that was closest to the city he could find.”
“He seems fond of you.”
Lorna smiles. “He loves me, yes. But I think he likes this place, or at least the idea of it. He’s always proposing improvements to the place and the farm.”
The thought of Damien being interested in apple farming is both fascinating and alien. “So, do you just grow them, or do you do more?” I ask.
“I sell apple juice and applesauce at the local farmer’s market. I was fine pressing the juice on my own, but guess who bought a pressing machine?” She chuckles to herself. “I am always telling him that I don’t intend on starting a second career as an apple mogul, but does he listen? I had to stop him from buying the plot next door when the neighbors put it on the market.”
“He wants what is best for you.”
“Maybe now that he has a family, he might stop fussing over me.”
Lake drops the basket and the apples scatter around. “Oh, no! Don’t worry, I’ll get them!” he screams before scurrying off after each one.
“You don’t have to,” Lorna says to him, but Lake simply answers. “But it’s my fault. Let me.”
Lorna shakes her head. “He is very well-behaved. I guess I have you to thank. After all, you did the bulk of the rearing.”
I can feel my cheeks flush. “It’s not as it seems. Damien and I…it’s complicated.” How do I tell her I didn’t intentionally hide her grandson without lying to her more than I already did?
“Are you saying that little tale of the two of you meeting again and falling in love is false?” My cheeks heat even more. Of course, she could catch the lie. Lorna raises her hands in mock surrender.
“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, but all I know is that whatever it is, it didn’t start now.” She stares pointedly at Lake. “I know you wouldn’t have hidden him away without having a good reason, but I am glad that you’ve finally brought him to us.
“You’re not angry?”
“What do I have to be angry about? You’ve given me a grandson. I’m kinda mad that I wasn’t invited to the wedding, but that’s beside the point.” Lorna is too precious for this world. She’s not as cynical as her son, quite the opposite. It makes me sad that my marriage to his son is a sham and it will never last.
“I just want to tell you that no matter what happens between Damien and me, Lake will always be in your life.”
She frowns. “You clearly don’t know who you’ve married. Now that he has you in his life, he’s going to do everything he can to make sure you stay.”
I am about to ask her what she means by that when I hear the crunching of boots and the sound of someone making their way to us. My heart skips a bit when glance back and see Damien. He is pushing a wheelbarrow with a rake in it. He ditched his jeans and t-shirt and opted for overalls tied at the waist, boots, and nothing else. My pussy doesn't fail to notice that he is shirtless. I feel it tighten as my mouth goes dry.
“He’s also not cleaning the barn,” he says, “Or do you have another excuse for him for that as well?”
Lorna shrugs. “It’s a big barn.”
Damien sighs and shakes his head. Lake finishes putting the apples back into the basket just as his father rakes the leaves and rotten apples.
Lorna suggests they make apple sauce with the fruits to the delight of Lake, who enjoys watching people make stuff. Especially stuff he can eat. I’m not feeling like joining them and the outdoors is breezy enough for me to stay out longer. They leave and I’m left alone with Damien, who is now busy with his job. He looks like he’s enjoying it and has now moved to the end of the row of apple trees. I follow him there and reach him just as he’s about to put some of the debris into the wheelbarrow.
“Do you need help?”
He scoffs. “And what would you help me with, city girl?”
I roll my eyes. “Come on. I had no idea you grew up in the country. I would have bet money that you are a Brooklyn boy through and through.”
He picks up the wheelbarrow and goes to the edge of the orchard, where he dumps the debris into a compost. He returns, muscles rippling and glistening in the sun. My mouth waters as though he is some meal I can’t wait to devour. His eyes catch mine and I look away, embarrassed to be caught staring.
Damien removes one glove and throws it at me. “You can pick the rotten apples and throw them in here.” He gestures at the wheelbarrow. I nod and do as he says. The orchard is quiet for a while as I pick the apples one by one while he rakes the leaves. The sounds of nature might be calming if I wasn’t constantly aware of Damien and everything he was doing. Every time he passes by me, I catch his scent and my body goes rigid for a millisecond. I ignore it and continue doing my job. I focus on picking the apples, but because I am not looking at where I am going, I hit his chest with my head.
“Ow! Watch--” Damien screams as I lose my balance and nearly fall. He catches my arms and holds me up. I steady myself by holding onto his chest. His hard and ripped chest feels sturdy under my hands. Unconsciously, I rub my ungloved hand down his chest just to feel how good his warm body is against mine. He groans. I look up at him. His eyes are hooded with desire.
“What are doing?” His tone is far from accusatory. It’s gentle but I’m too embarrassed with myself to not hear it as such. I step back and withdraw my hand like it’s been burned. “Nothing,” I reply, looking down. “Thanks,” I say and return to my job.
“You were right,” Damien says.
“About?”
“Nicole.” He stops raking and stands to face me. The apple I had been holding in my hand falls. “She poisoned our son and tried to pretend she didn’t know anything about it.”
I’m too shocked to reply. He has never shown any wavering when it came to the innocence of his favorite assistant. He has always downplayed my suspicions. But to hear him accuse her of maliciousness is a bridge that even I hadn’t crossed. To hear him say this is… “How did she know he was allergic?”
“She says she didn’t, but she knows I am allergic. She was adamant that it was a mistake.”
My mind reels. She tried to harm my child. My child. What the fuck was wrong with her? I think of all the times she’s been with Lake. Been with me.“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve fired her, so you no longer have to worry about her harming Lake ever again.”
“Thanks,” I say. “For believing me.”
We finish cleaning up, and I follow Damien to the barn as he rolls the wheelbarrow. I check my phone. An hour has passed ever since we started. We have somehow worked faster than I thought and I don’t feel as tired as I thought I would be.
The barn is large and half of it has been repurposed into something of a juice machine while the other half acts as a warehouse and tools shed. “You’ve done well for your mother,” I say as I take in the machine she mentioned while Damien stores away the tools. It looks state-of-the-art and a smaller version of something you’d find at a fruit juice factory. “She’s been telling me all the things you’ve done for her. She sounds very proud.”
Damien opens his palm and I hand him the glove. “My mother has a tendency to exaggerate.” He takes it and stores the gloves away. He comes back empty-handed. My gaze can’t stop wandering to his chest. His muscles flex as he walks, creating a mesmerizing effect. He stops inches away from me, his gaze hot on mine. There has been an erotic dance we’ve been playing all afternoon, and it feels like the stakes have only ratcheted up now. His hand goes to my cheek, and he rubs it. “There’s dust here,” he says and then curses.
“What?” I try not to sound as breathless as I feel. There’s a desire within me to bend his head and kiss him, which I have to resist.
“I’ve just made it worse.” He shows me his hand. It’s coated in dirt. “We should take a shower.” It sounds less like a suggestion and more like an order. I am too horny to defy it and let him take my hand as he leads me into the barn, past the storage area, past the juicing machine, and all the way to the back. He turns around a corner and reaches a small alcove that is well hidden from the barn and the house. There’s a reed cube at the center, which he opens the door off and he leads me inside. It’s an outdoor shower. A well-designed one, I have to admit. There’s a shower nozzle on one end and a basin on the other.
“Figured we might clean ourselves,” he says as he strips down to his overalls. As though I am acting on his command, I strip down my dirt-stained jeans and t-shirt. He groans when my bra and underwear-clad body is bared to him. “You act as though you’ve never seen my body before?”
“It’s hard to get used to.” His eyes flare as I remove the remaining articles of clothing and throw them onto the reed walls. He removes his trunks and opens the shower. The cool water is a delight and makes for a wonderful contrast to the sun hitting my back. This feels amazing, I say as I stand under the shower.
Damien pulls me to his chest, and he runs his hands down my body. My skin dances everywhere he touches. From my arms, caressing past my back to my butt. He squeezes them just before dipping his head and claiming my lips with his. He coaxes and teases me until I am whimpering with desire. That’s when he plays with my tongue, fighting for control and ultimately gaining it. I moan in his mouth and he squeezes my butt that much tighter against his body. His erection is hard and probing in search of relief.
My hand wonders down to his cock and I grip it. The water makes it easier for me to stroke him without—
I gasp as he suddenly flips me around so that my back is to his chest and continues his assault of my mouth to my neck. His lips brush against my neck while his hands wander up my body to my breasts. He palms each breast and rubs each nipple. The combination of the water and his hands is a lot for my body to handle. “Do you have any idea how insane you drive me?”
“Me?” I say between gasps. “You’re the one tormenting me.”
“If you think I’m the tormentor in this twisted relationship of ours,” he twists both nipples, making me arch my back and grind against his cock, “You underestimate yourself.” His right hand slides down to my center and he pinches my clit at the same time he pinches my nipple.
“You’re the one torturing me,” I moan as his mouth nips and bites against my neck. He doesn’t stop there. He rubs my clit. Fast, then slow. Fast, then slow. As though he’s playing with me. All I can do is writhe and moan as he plays with me like a doll. Finally, I can’t take it. “Please!”
I slide my hand behind his back and I capture his cock. It’s now hard and weeping. At least I am not the only one affected. I stroke him in time with his ministrations. “Please fuck me,” I say. He groans and flips me to face him again. Before I can understand what he’s about to do, he grips my waist, lifts me, slides me against his body and down on his cock. We both moan at the sudden contact. He staggers to a little stone box and leans me on it. Satisfied that we’re both stable, he moves. His strokes are wild and frantic as he sets a relentless pace that’s so maddening that in no time I feel an orgasm coming. I can feel his too as he freezes, jerks, and comes inside me just as I pulsate against his cock with an orgasm of my own.