Yearning for Love (7 page)

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Authors: Alexis Lauren

BOOK: Yearning for Love
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How much food do you have on hand? How long will it take for an order to be delivered?”

“I still have enough, although I don’t want to push it. If I –
you
– place the order before three our time, I’ll get it delivered within 24 hours,” Mom tells me.

“Okay, then. As soon as I’ve finished with dinner prep, I’ll go online and place an order. Just let me know what you need.”

“You’ll find the list in the drawer next to the big refrigerator by the back door. It’s right on the top and it has . . . yesterday’s date, I think.”

Once I finished washing, pricking and rubbing butter over several large baking potatoes, I wrap them in foil, ready to slide into the oven. Mom works on the meatloaf and stores that in the fridge , then we work on the dessert together. Working with her proves to be good for my spirit. I feel myself feeling calmer. After eating a large burrito and drinking some hot tea with Mom, I find the food supplies list where she said it would be, and I get started on placing the large order. I verify she has funds in the business account to pay for it, and send the payment through. Shortly after, I get a confirmation number and a delivery time for the next day. I bundle up and go for a long walk, thinking about my situation with Nate, my job and being up here in Ruidoso. I toy vaguely with the idea of moving up here after quitting my job. I test the idea out on my emotions . . . it would be good to be away from the sexual tension, and the problems we have acknowledging our feelings for each other. I would instead enjoy being with Mom and working with her here. The only downside is that it’s so . . . isolated and it would be difficult for me to find any excitement. The casino at the Inn of the Mountain Gods isn’t really my thing, so I’d have to drive to Las Cruces for a fun evening. I promise myself to give this idea more thought so that, if need be, I can discuss it with Mom.

My walk takes me straight into Ruidoso, where I check out some of the shops. Seeing a nice purse for Mom, I ask the store owner if she would set it aside for me until the next day. I keep walking through the village, poking into other shops, and finally, when the cold air gets to me, stopping in a small gourmet coffee shop. I walk back with a large cup of mocha, sipping on it as I think.

That night, after I go to my room, I sit on my bed thinking. I can’t go back to work for Nate, not after he treated me so coolly on that last day. I mean, for God’s sake, he said someone from Drummond Oil would call and update me about his father’s condition. We spent the week together in Germany and we made love many times. After all that intimacy, he doesn’t know how to treat a woman so she knows she’s appreciated and cherished. I really don’t want to experience that kind of shabby experience. I gave myself to Nate, and the least he can do is communicate with me at this important time. I do have a temper and, if he brushes me off again, I will let loose. Boss or not, I will let loose on Nate.

Under the covers, I flop from side to side restlessly. Despite all my good intentions, I still miss him. I want him here, next to me in bed, warming me up. Sitting up, I grab my Kindle and begin reading, trying to make myself sleepy. Finally, my eyes start to droop, so I zip my e-reader in its case, and shut my light out without looking at the time. I will sleep, no matter how late it is.  I turn my back to my bedside clock on purpose. My eyes close . . .

Nate is in bed with me. His head is under the covers, as he laps at and kisses my clit. I am hot with wanting, so I come rapidly, rocking my hips into his mouth and chin. After, we make love sitting on the edge of the bed, both of us watching as he enters and leaves my body. The sight excites us both, and we grow even more engorged. Soon, Nate has grown to monumental proportions, as he spears himself into me, moving himself in and out. The stretching sensation makes me come, as I clench tightly around him. We both come convulsively, Nate pushing himself into me hard, and spurting into his condom. Even though we are at the B&B, he stays in my bed, pillowing my head on his chest, and wrapping his arms around me. I sigh, feeling complete.

I spend the next week with Mom, helping her run the B&B, taking care of her guests. As the New Year approaches, two families leave, easing our workload slightly. I start putting up some decorations for the New Year, in preparation for the dinner we will have on that day –
 
posole with red chile, white bolillos or dinner rolls, and pecan pies.

At the end of my first week, I’m no closer to a decision about my situation with Nate/
Mr. Drummond
. The options haunt me, keeping me awake late into the night. More and more, I have to cover the dark circles under my eyes. Mom doesn’t miss a trick. One night, she brews up some herbal tea, and adds a generous dollop of honey.

“Corey, drink this. You need to relax and get some rest, or you’re going to collapse,” she tells me.

Gratefully, I sip at the hot tea. She’s right.

“Mom, I just can’t decide what to do. When I’m in bed, I’m going back and forth between both options. I’ve done the pros and cons exercise, too,” I moan. “I’m just pissed at myself, that’s all. I allowed myself to fall in love with a man who won’t ‘do’ commitment.”

Mom replied, “After your dad died, I refused to date for several years. Then someone I’d known for a long time asked me out. He told me he was interested in me, and had been for a long time. Yet, when it came time to start talking about ‘a future,’ suddenly, greener pastures beckoned, and he wanted to pursue other interests. But I had already fallen in love with him. Yet, despite my feelings for him, after one long discussion I told him to take a hike. It took about a year, then I found the courage to start dating again. None of my dates impressed me enough to make me feel like I could introduce them to you, so I just didn’t bother. Then, Scott came back into the picture. I was very wary, but he told me that he’d learned his lesson. We dated again, this time for about a year. One of my friends saw me falling in love with him all over again, so she took me aside and asked me what my plans were. I was still pretty gun-shy, even though I loved him. She told me that I needed to fish or cut bait – ‘You need to decide whether you’re going to introduce him to Corey and plan a life with him – or not,’ she told me. She also went and talked to Scott, and she found out that, again, he was not really willing to commit to a permanent relationship.. She told me what he’d revealed about himself, and my heart was broken again. I decided it was time for me to talk reality to Scott, and he confirmed what Millie had told me. I told him then that it was definitely over –
 
and that I wouldn’t be available for any repeat performances, ever. He left, and I bought the B&B and moved up here. Sure, I date on occasion, but I’m happy with my life as it is. I have friends, both male and female. I have you and I have the B&B. I need nothing more, sweetheart,” my mom finishes.

“In other words, you’re saying I need to decide what would work for me, and what I’m willing to accept from a man?” I ask.

“Exactly. I would love to see you get married and start having children, but, if that’s not meant to be, I’ll learn to accept it,” Mom says.

I take her hand in mine and we sit in silence, thinking. That night, in bed, my mind goes over what she has told me. I know I have a lot to think about. Rolling over, I refuse to allow thoughts of Nate to invade my mind. As my eyes drift shut, I feel a new peace spreading within my heart. I know I’ll find a solution, with or without Nate. This time it’s only 1:30 when I fall asleep. The next day, it’s Friday and the eve of New Year’s Eve. Mom and I stay busy with the house and providing for our guests. I’m checking off the items I ordered from the list the delivery man gave me. As I verify that everything has been delivered as ordered, I put it away. Mom is in the large living room, sweeping up needles from the Christmas tree. She stores the hand vacuum away, and grabs a large jug to fill the Christmas tree holder with fresh water. As she’s walking back out, the doorbell chimes.

“I’ll get that, Corey! You keep working on the order,” Mom says.

“Sounds good. You expecting new guests?” I ask her.

“Not till next week. Oh! Hello, my name is Brenda Temple. How are you today?”

I hear the low rumble of a male voice in the doorway. I can’t quite make out who it is, but shivers run up and down my spine when what I hear next makes me nearly drop a heavy package of frozen chicken breasts.

“My name is Nate Drummond. I’m looking for Corey Temple. I believe she’s your daughter?”

“Yes. Yes, she is. She’s occupied right now. If you’ll just sit, I’ll bring her . . .”

No, you will not, Mom. I’m finally beginning to get closer to a decision, and I don’t want that process ruined. What in the hell is he doing here anyway when his father’s in the hospital?

“Actually, if you have a room available, I’d love to rent it. You don’t need to tell Corey I’m here,” Nate says. I can only imagine the charming smile creasing his face.

“I do have a room available . . . You know, you’ll need to talk to her sooner or later,” says my mother.
Gee, thanks . . . Mom.
Fueled by anger, I check through the food order quickly and store everything away. Once that’s done, I unload the dishwasher and put the dishes away, trying not to make any noise.

“Corey, you need to talk to him. Whatever you decide to do is fine with me. You’re an adult now,” says my mom.

“Where is he?”

“Upstairs, taking a shower, I believe,” my mom says.

At that, I get disturbing memories of Nate’s well-toned, fit body. I sigh, trying to deny that the visions in my mind are wreaking havoc with my body.

“I’m just going to stay busy. I am not talking to him.
 
He and his company can go take a flying leap from the Taos Gorge,” I mutter to her.

At least she agrees he’d been less than caring when he got to the hospital. And yes, I know he was really worried about his dad. Still, I let her know I won’t be talking to him, not voluntarily that is, and preferably, not at all.

A few minutes later, Nate strides in, freshly showered and wearing well-worn, snug jeans and a lightweight long-sleeved sweater. God, he looks good! Remembering my vow, I turn away and begin working on the entree for that night – red enchiladas, beans and Spanish rice. I’m leaving the flan to my mom – hers turns out so much lighter than mine does.

“Corey?”

It’s several seconds before I’m able to allow a remote, disinterested, “Hmmm?” to come out of my throat. I stay busy, chopping vegetables and grating a large amount of cheese. We still have eleven guests, twelve counting Nate, to prepare for.

“Will you come and talk with me?” Nate sounds . . . different.

“No. I have too much to do,” I tell him coolly.
I will not turn around
.

“Please?”

I turn and the look in my eyes must convince him, because he backs out of the kitchen with both hands upraised. Once he’s gone, I return to grating cheese and chopping large amounts of onion and canned whole tomatoes.

Needing to calm myself down, I pull my jacket and gloves on after working on dinner prep.

“Mom, I’ll be back within an hour. I need a walk,” I tell her, gesturing upstairs at Nate’s room.

“Okay, just be back before five, please,” Mom says.

“I will.” I take off in the direction of one of my favorite trails. Walking uphill slowly, I conserve my strength, breathing easily and thinking,
Nate’s here, and it’s obvious he wants to get me back into my desk next week. After his detached behavior the other day, I am definitely going to resign my job. I can find something comparable at a non-profit, and I can help the executive director keep things running smoothly.
Looking around me to keep oriented, I measure the distance I’ve already walked. I still need to become calmer. I set off again, deciding to walk farther. I go over Nate’s refusal to accept my letter of resignation. What is his problem? He doesn’t love me – he refuses to commit to anyone, let alone a 20-year-old executive assistant. Therefore, it’s up to me to protect my heart, I tell myself. I know I need to come up with possible solutions. I got some good training while I worked for Drummond Oil. They’re well known in El Paso – heck, in all of
Texas
, so I know that having it on my resume will interest future employers.

  Finally, I look around. Wow! I’ve come quite a distance. Turning around, I trek carefully down the hill, wanting to get back home before it starts getting dark. As well as I know this trail, I do not want to be stuck out here after dark because I don’t want to meet some of the wildlife face-to-face. Inside the house, I clean my boots, and take my jacket and gloves off. I join Mom in the kitchen, helping her with the dinnertime preparations. Removing the baked enchiladas from the oven, I take them to the sideboard, and place them inside the recessed opening. Mom follows with the beans and Spanish rice.

“Would you make two bean-and-cheese burritos for Ashleigh and Zack? They won’t be eating the enchiladas, because they aren’t used to the hot taste like we are,” Mom explains.

I heat two tortillas and spread refried beans and a light layer of cheese, then roll them carefully, slipping them onto a heated plate.

At dinnertime, I sit next to a really cute little girl and explain the food to her.

“Ashleigh, these are pinto beans and this is Spanish rice. These are red enchiladas. I made a special enchilada for you with no chili.” Actually, it’s two corn tortillas fried in olive oil, then topped with cheese and a tiny amount of onion.

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