Chapter Thirty-Four
Thirty-Four
Elsie
Agreeing to “all of it” and then having to watch Forge leave my room to go back to the Louisiana princess was disappointing.
But he had called her a chore, and I was choosing to believe him.
Besides, we were friends. He’d made that clear.
He’d also made it clear he wanted to do sexual things with me.
Not sex. At least, I didn’t think he’d meant that.
I couldn’t say I’d be against it if I wasn’t so terrified of his size and piercings.
I’d had some time to think about all of it and mentally coach myself for the evening.
I read a little more of Noa’s book to get me more prepared for the “things” Forge wanted to do.
I felt like it was an instruction manual of sorts, although I’d never admit that to a soul.
And I would avoid Ransom for the rest of my life. I felt as if I had seen him naked.
With all the other taking priority in my thoughts, I hadn’t taken the time to write Calvin back.
But I would tomorrow. My focus was elsewhere tonight.
Besides, it wasn’t like I had much I could tell him.
I was pretty sure that explaining that his cousin and I had decided to be friends with benefits wasn’t going to go over well with him.
That was something he never had to know.
There weren’t as many voices coming from the great room this evening as the last game night that I’d helped with. In fact, all I heard was the announcers on the television. Where was everyone?
Passing the kitchen, I glanced inside to see it was clean and empty. The light was off.
When I reached the great room, the only person in there was Forge, and he was sitting on the edge of the sofa with the coffee table moved closer to him.
Tonight he had two laptops and an iPad placed in the middle.
He was busy looking at something on the screen, and it gave me a moment to appreciate the view.
Thinking about that man in my bed again tonight, doing those things we’d done last night, sent a rush of warmth between my legs.
He glanced back at me, and a slow grin spread across his face. “You gonna come sit, Pickles? Or stare at me?”
Crap. He’d known I was here.
“I didn’t want to interrupt you,” I lied.
“Sure. That was it,” he drawled. “Come sit. I’ve ordered food for us. Everyone else is out—at least for now. They’ll all return eventually.”
We were alone in this house? Had it ever been this empty?
Walking over, I took the spot in front of the second computer, seeing it had the spread already pulled up on it.
Score updates were on the iPad screen between us for every basketball game currently happening.
They had all just started, it seemed. He had told me to meet him in here at six, and I was a few minutes early.
There must have been some games that started early.
“Oz is handling most of the ones right now over at Ransom and Noa’s outside setup,” he told me, pointing to the scores on the iPad. “They have their back patio finished, and the couples are all over there tonight.”
Winslet had mentioned today how excited Noa was that things were almost completed at their house.
She had lived in Manhattan before moving in with Ransom.
Living with all these other people must have been an adjustment for her.
Although I didn’t hate it. Not the way I’d thought I would.
I did miss getting to go and come as I wanted.
Not having to stay inside the gates of this property, but I was alive.
“Are the Davidsons still here?” I asked.
He cut his eyes at me. “Just Lula Mae. Why?”
“Uh, because I was wondering if they’re going to be able to help me,” I replied.
His jaw ticced, and he nodded. “Yeah. They went back to see what they could do. We are waiting. Lula Mae is here while they deal with things. For her safety.” He paused.
“But even if they get confirmation that you’ll be left alone, it won’t be okay for you to just go out into the world again. You’ll need protection for a while.”
My stomach knotted up. “Protection?”
“Yeah. And Calvin doesn’t count. You can’t be alone. You’ll need to stay here until we can be sure the son of a bitch wasn’t lying.”
“And I will be locked inside these gates for how long exactly?”
He shook his head. “Not locked inside. You’ll be able to leave. Just not alone. Like I said, protection.”
This was the first I’d heard of this plan.
No one had said I would be followed around by someone.
Did I have to hire a bodyguard? Because I wasn’t so sure what my parents’ life insurance left behind since I was unavailable for contact with the outside world.
I had no idea what they had set in place for the event of both their deaths.
“Let’s not talk about this,” he said, his tone softening. “It’s upsetting you, and I don’t want you worrying.”
That was easy for him to say, but he didn’t have to face what I did.
Once I was free to face it. Right now, I was living in this limbo.
One where I woke up every day, focused on just getting through it.
And, well … lately, focused on when I was going to get to be around Forge.
He had distracted me from so much that was going to have to be dealt with when the time came.
“That’s a little easier said than done,” I muttered, turning my attention back to the screen.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, but I could feel his eyes on me. Then he reached over and closed the screen on my laptop before doing the same to the one in front of him.
“What—” I started to ask when he stood up and put his phone to his ear.
“Not gonna be able to work tonight. You got help there. Besides, the games aren’t that heavy. Yeah. Possibly. Yep. Right.”
Turning back to me, he stuck his phone in his back pocket, then held out a hand to me. “Come on.”
I looked at his hand, then back at his face. “What are we doing?” I asked hesitantly.
He gave me a crooked grin. “Going out. I mean, not out, out, but out. The best I can do for now.”
I put my hand in his, and he tugged me up very close to his body.
“A little chill in the air tonight. I’ve got a hoodie down here you can slip on,” he told me, then released my hand and ran it over my hip before walking toward the door that led to the game room.
Excitement bubbled inside me, replacing the fear and worry. Just that easily, he could fix things. I couldn’t even wish it away—this thing he did to me. I knew I’d leave, and it was going to be hard to let him go, but for now, I could just enjoy it.
He went into the room, then came walking out with a black hoodie that I’d seen him wear just yesterday. I hoped he hadn’t washed it. I wanted it to smell like him. He’d pulled on a navy sweatshirt, too, that had Carver’s Bootleg Whiskey on the front.
I held out my hand, thinking he was going to give it to me.
“Hands up, Pickles,” he told me.
I laughed. “You don’t have to put it on me.”
“Hands up,” he repeated.
Still smiling, I did as he’d instructed, and he pulled it down over me. It was huge, warm, and smelled like him. I wanted to giggle like an idiot, but I refrained. I also didn’t take it and shove it against my nose like a weirdo, but I thought about it.
“That covers up your tits in that top. I’ll be able to stop thinking about sucking on your nipples now,” he said.
Then he reached over to straighten the hood, bunched up behind me, and slid his hands beneath my hair, fanning it out so that it wasn’t stuck underneath.
“That’s better. Food should be here in a few minutes.
I’ll go out to get it at the front gate.
But we can get the drinks, napkins, and utensils ready while we wait on it.
I think Halo has a picnic basket in the pantry. ”
Picnic basket?
“Are we eating outside?” I asked, following him as he started toward the hallway.
“Yeah, I know the perfect spot. Somewhere you’ve not been. It’ll be like you have escaped.”
I smiled at his back, letting my gaze drop to his delicious butt. The man made jeans look mouthwatering. I’d seen it naked this morning, and whew. It was a sight. One I wanted to keep forever burned in my brain.
The dimples just above it were something I hadn’t known were needed on a guy.
But they were just as enticing as the way his lower abdomen cut into a V just beneath his abs.
I was getting flustered. I needed to stop this.
We were going on a picnic, not to the bedroom.
It was Noa’s book’s fault. I had gotten worked up more than once today, reading it.
“We are drinking tonight, Pickles. Not enough to get you drunk. I want to get you naked later, and I want you fully aware of what is happening. But tipsy is fine. So, what do you prefer?”
Drinking wasn’t such a bad idea. It would loosen me up.
Until I’d read Noa’s book today, I hadn’t realized just how unexperienced I was.
There was so much more to making out than blow jobs and having a guy feel me up.
Although last night, I’d been shown a bit more, but not all the things I’d read today.
“Um, I, uh … well …” I didn’t drink often. What did I want?
Calvin always ordered one for me if I did have a drink. Normally some fruity drink.
Forge stopped and looked back at me. “I’ve got everything. You name it.”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. Calvin always orders my drinks if we are out. I’m not a big drinker.”
His brows snapped together. “Calvin? Fuck that. We will figure out what you like. Don’t let some man pick out your drink.”
Okay, I didn’t think it was a big deal, but sure. Whatever he said.
He started toward the kitchen again, and I had to quicken my pace since his strides had become longer and more intense. As if he was pissed about this drink thing.
When he stepped into the kitchen, the lights came on without him touching anything. I hadn’t known they were activated by movement.
“All right, get a seat at the bar. We will start with wine, unless you want to try beer.”
I pulled out a stool. “I might not be a drinker, but isn’t there a saying, like, Beer before liquor, never sicker?”
“Myth. Doesn’t matter. Beer is just something you can drink a lot of before realizing you’re intoxicated. You feel effects faster with liquor and slow down. It’s drinking too much sugar that fucks you up.”
Oh. Learn something new every day. “All right then. Is it okay if I don’t try the beer? I already know I hate it. I can’t even stand the way it smells.”
He smirked. “Yeah, Pickles. We will leave off the beer,” he agreed as he pulled two bottles from the wine rack. “Let’s do the red versus white taste test first.”
I watched him open a cabinet and take out two different wineglasses. One with a stem and one without.
“I’ve had red, and maybe it was the kind I drank, but I wasn’t a fan. I hate for you to open a bottle of it just for me to taste,” I told him.
He picked up the bottle of merlot and slid it back into the holder, then scanned the other bottles and pulled out a new bottle. “Rosé. I should have thought about that one anyway. My mom prefers it. I think it’s a female thing.”
The color looked like a dark pink, and I thought that was promising. It was hard not to look at his biceps flexing as he uncorked the bottle of rosé. They were mesmerizing.
He poured a small amount into the glass without a stem and slid it across the bar to me.
Taking it, I licked my lips, then took a small sip. It was nice. Nothing like the red I’d tried once. It had a crisp, fruity taste that wasn’t too sweet.
I nodded. “I like that.”
He read the label. “That’s a medium blend,” he told me. “You might not like the dry or sweeter ones.”
He slid the white wine over to me.
Taking a sip of it, I decided the rosé was my favorite. I pointed at the other glass. “That one for sure.”
He opened a drawer and pulled out two wine bottle corks with crystal decoration at the top and closed both of them before putting them in the fridge.
“I’m assuming you’ve had champagne,” he said, glancing back at me.
I nodded. “It’s okay. I like the sweeter ones. Prosecco. But we don’t need to try it.”
He went over to the small area that I believed my mother had once called a butler’s pantry and came back out, carrying two bottles.
He set them in front of me. “I’m not a drink mixer.
But I know that girls tend to mix vodka with cranberry juice or sparkling water.
” Then he held up the other bottle. “I grabbed the whiskey because the gin was intimidating. I have no idea what to mix with it.”
Smiling, I pointed at the whiskey. “I think I mentioned before that I don’t much care for whiskey,” I reminded him. “I’ve tried Jack and Coke.”
The horrified look on his face told me I’d said something offensive.
“This is not Jack Daniel’s, Pickles. Never mix this with anything. Ever. And no fucking wonder you don’t like whiskey.”
“It’s Calvin’s drink of choice,” I explained.
Forge winced. “It’s like he and I aren’t related at all,” he muttered. “Let’s start with this. If you hate it, you can wash it down with a cranberry vodka.”
“I like vodka,” I told him. “I think that is what is in, uh, lemon drops.”
He nodded. “Most likely. Never had one, but sounds about right.”
I waited while he put ice in a different glass and then filled it with the smallest amount of the amber liquid.
“This is the smoothest whiskey the Carvers make. It’s lighter, and it has a sweeter burn.”
I picked it up and smelled it first. That was nice. My eyes lifted to meet Forge’s. No longer nervous to take a drink, I tried it, and he was right about the burn. There was one as it went down, but it wasn’t bad.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I like that.”
He chuckled. “Better than the rosé?”
I thought about it, then nodded.
“Then we will take the bottle. I normally drink something a little stronger, but this will work.”
A chime rang through the house, and I recognized it as someone being at the front gate. It had taken getting used to, but I no longer paid attention to it.
He checked his phone, and I knew they could all see who was at the gate from an app on their phones. “Food is here,” he said. “I’ll get that basket, and you want to pack it with the other things we need?”
I nodded, standing up. “I can find the basket. You go on and get the food.”
He picked up the glass of whiskey and drank the rest in one gulp. “All right. Pack us two glasses too.”
“Okay,” I replied, then watched him go before heading to the pantry to find all the things we needed.
As I passed a mirror on the wall, I saw the smile on my face and paused to stare at myself. I barely recognized that girl. It had been so long since she had looked … happy.