A Winter's Date (30 page)

“I have to pee, and I’m sticky” she spits out quickly.

I chuckle and pat her ass. “Then go.”

She lifts her body from mine, and I instantly hate the loss. “Don’t listen, okay?” She asks before climbing out of bed and padding over to the bathroom naked. I smile to myself at her odd request, and then burst out laughing when I hear the exhaust vent turn on and the sink running water simultaneously. A few moments later I hear the shower start. Hell, what my girl won’t do.

HEATHER

We’ve been lying awake for a few hours now as the sun rises behind the drawn curtains of the hotel room. His thoughts must be racing because neither one of us has said a word to each other. His chest is warm, and I’m so comfortable in my spot; if we didn’t have plans today, then I would refuse to move. His warm hand moves down from the back of my shoulders to the small of my back.

“Heather?”

“Mhmm?” I reply softly and nuzzle his chest.

“Do I look like them?” His voice is cool, almost dark; I know he’s anxious.

His question takes me by surprise, and I have to think back to give him a proper answer. “You have your mother’s eyes, I believe.” I smile and look up at him. “But if I recall correctly, I think you’ve outgrown your dad. He’s tall, but you’re taller.”

He listens quietly as his hands roam around my back. “Do you remember anything about them? What were they like?”

I clear my throat as I think back on that sad time in my life. I’ve blocked it out, but now I’ll boldly jump into that darkness for him. “Well, both of your parents were extremely understanding. They knew what I was going through and were remarkably loving. Your mom . . .” I stop and smile. “ . . . she would make me the best hot chocolate. It’s been my favorite ever since, and I’ve yet to be able to perfect it.”

His tense muscles relax slightly as I tell him they took care of me; of course he’s more concerned about my past than his future. He’s put me first since day one. “Do you think they’ll remember you?”

I chew at my cheek and think on that. “I would imagine they would, but I don’t know how many children they’ve fostered over the years. I could have been one out of a dozen.”

“But you were their first?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

He presses his lips to the top of my head and inhales. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

I can’t imagine how he must be feeling, but I can hear his heart beat rapidly, as if he’s just run a mile. “Hey, you’re going to be just fine. You can do this—I’ll be right there with you. You’ll feel so much better once you’ve met them. Think of this as a new chapter in your life.”

“Yeah, chapter thirty, in a long and seemingly empty book—with the exception of the prologue, of course. I suppose we better get up and get ready.”

I move off of his chest and sit up, looking down at him as he lies on his back. “Would it help if I wore those shorts today?” I grin.

My comment brings some of the color back to his face. “Did you bring them with you?”

My smile widens, and I pinch his nipple playfully. “Yes, I did. When you mentioned them the other night, I made sure to pack them.”

His body reacts by sending the slightest spasm through his chest. “Fuck, I can’t wait to see them again.”

Before I can tell what’s happening, he scoops me off of the bed and hauls me over his shoulder, so I get the perfect view of his muscular butt as he walks into the bathroom and turns the shower on.

I can’t help but smack his firm tush quickly before he sets me on my feet. “Okay, I’ll shower with you, but no funny business, Noah. I know how you get.” I try to keep the mood light so he stays upbeat and positive.

“Funny business? Have you named my cock now?”

I laugh and step under the warm spray. “No, but if I did, your cock’s name would not be ‘funny business.’”

“I’m glad you take my cock seriously, ballerina.” He starts washing his chest, up and under his arms, and back up the other side until his torso is scrubbed and covered in suds.

Our shower proceeds in silence, partly because now I’m the one thinking about funny business and what I could do to accidentally slip and fall on his penis. But it’s mostly because he’s lost in thought as well. Last week, when we were lying in bed, he broke my heart when he whispered, “What if they don’t like me?” I knew that would never be the case but how do I answer that? I know that this is what is weighing heavily on his mind at this very moment.

Once we’re both showered and ready to go, I walk in front of him as we leave the hotel room. His hands come around my hips hard and fast as he pulls me back against him, “Dammit, Heather, this ass . . .”

I gasp at the sudden movement and look up and over my shoulder at him. “What? You can barely see it. I wore this maxi dress specifically for that reason. You don’t need any distractions today.”

And neither do I,
I add quietly to myself.

His storm is brewing close enough for me to hear it. “You owe me, ballerina.”

“For what?”

“For teasing me with those shorts and then deciding not to wear them in the end.”

A sting from his hand warms my butt, and I step forward out of his storm clouds.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t control that monster.”

“Monster, huh? I like that better than funny business.”

I blush a deep crimson because I didn’t mean to let him know how I secretly refer to his cock. He opens the passenger side door for me knowingly and watches every move of my body as I get up and into the seat.

Crap. I’m so busted.

His smirk tells me everything I need to know: he loves my nickname for him. He shuts the door quickly and moves his able body around the car to the driver’s seat. He gets in effortlessly and pulls out of the parking lot, heading west down the Montauk Highway toward Southampton.

He’s rubbing his jaw slowly as he drives, lost in his head—which is just as well for I don’t have any words for him. The tension in the car is palpable, and I’m almost suffocating from it. I reach out and take his hand in mine, doing my best to comfort him.

The thirty-minute drive passes quickly and once we get off the highway, it takes us all of five minutes to get to the gate of Henry and Ellery’s home.

I look over at him and rub his jean-clad thigh gently. “Go on, baby, I’m here.”

The gate opens before he can roll down the automatic window and hit the call button. They must be as anxious to meet him as he is to meet them. Noah slowly lowers his foot onto the gas pedal, and the Range Rover moves down the driveway slowly until their home is in full view.

It’s breathtaking. I inhale deeply to steady myself and speak quietly.

“I’ve not been here before; this is new for me too.”

I hear him swallow his fear as he parks and gets out of the SUV to make his way around to me. He pulls the door open while his eyes are still locked on the front door of their house.

I climb out slowly and let the skirt of my dress fall to my feet. He takes my hand and looks down at me, cupping the underside of my chin. “If I say I’m ready to leave, we leave. Okay?”

I place my hand over his and reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Okay.”

He doesn’t say a word; he just kisses me gently and lets go of my chin before walking side by side with me up their walkway. My heart is beating wildly, and I can feel his pulse against my fingers. We reach the front door, and he rings the doorbell, and then steps back. We’re both nervous wrecks, and if I told him to run at this exact moment, I think he would.

We both hear the door handle move at the same time because our eyes shoot to each other’s and then back to the door.

It opens suddenly and within seconds we’re face to face with Noah’s parents. There’s an awkward moment of silence before they step out of the house and onto the first step. My hands are trembling, and I look up nervously at him. He’s just staring at the two of them.

Ellery can’t dash the tears away fast enough with her right hand while she holds onto Henry with her left.

He squeezes my hand when Henry’s deep voice breaks the silence. “Son.”

I think Noah’s about to bolt when I feel his arm tense up—I can practically feel every muscle in his body react to that one word. Rubbing my thumb gently along the outside of his hand, I try to relax him. Before Noah even replies, Henry extends his right hand to him, and I feel Noah let go of mine.

They shake firmly as my Greek god says, “Good morning.”

Suddenly and without warning, there’s a squeak. Before I even know what happened, Ellery all but lunges at Noah and wraps her thin arms around his waist. She’s buried her face in his chest and is crying into his slate grey t-shirt. Her sobs are racking her body, and I can’t help but stare in shock—we all do.

Noah’s arms are set wide apart as he hesitates to touch her, but he makes up his mind and does, wrapping his arms around his mother. A sob somehow escapes my lips, and I quickly place my hand over my mouth.
Oh Noah . . .

He engulfs her delicate frame, and I’m melting.

My eyes tear up as I watch Noah lower his head to rest his cheek on the top of her head. He stands there, holding his mother in his arms for the first time, while she cries. He would have no recollection of being held by the Somers, so to him, this is the first time he’s ever gotten the physical affection of a parent who truly loves him unconditionally. Henry and I are both captivated in the moment, watching Ellery shiver in her son’s arms.

Noah surprises me when he lifts his head and ever so gently places a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s okay . . .”

She sobs some more, and Noah’s broad, brooding shoulders relax to a light rain shower. She loosens her arms, and Noah straightens up. Looking up at him, Ellery smiles warmly.

Her chestnut hair is shining in the warm sunlight as she speaks. “Welcome home, Noah. Oh, look at me: I can’t hold myself together. Please . . . please do come inside. I have breakfast ready.”

I feel like an outsider, like I shouldn’t be here.

That moment with Noah and his mother was so personal, so profoundly emotional. I don’t want this moment to ever be over for him. It’s better than I could have ever dreamed of. Seconds pass, and Henry steps forward. I watch in silence as he takes Noah and hugs him. The two men, who look very much alike but differ by many years, hug for a long and quiet moment. The only sound I hear is Ellery, sobbing into a tissue beside her husband and son.

Both men pull apart, and Noah swallows slowly before he’s able to clear his throat. “I don’t know exactly what to say; this is a lot to take in . . .” His politeness wins over his emotions as he looks over at me and reaches for my hand, ensuring I haven’t run for the hills.

I give him my hand and step a little closer to him. I really wish I wasn’t present right now. This needs to be just the three of them.

“Henry . . . Ellery . . . this is my girlfriend, Heather.”

He introduces me and Ellery sniffles some more. They both turn to me, and I’m praying there’s no recognition. Both of them smile at me, and Ellery walks over to give me a brief hug.

“Welcome, honey, we’re so happy to meet you as well.”

I think I relax a little because my smile isn’t forced. “Thank you for allowing me to be here,” I say before hugging her back. I feel relieved that they haven’t made the connection; I want this to be about Noah.

Ellery lets me go after squeezing my upper arms. “My, aren’t you pretty? Henry, isn’t she just darling?” she asks as she turns to him.

He chuckles, much like Noah’s chuckle, and steps forward, grasping my hand with both of his. “Yes, she’s quite the looker.”

I can’t help but smile and look at Noah. He seems relaxed at the moment, his storm well at bay for the time being, as he winks at me.

“I wanted to share some of my life with you, and the easiest way I could do that was to bring Heather with me and have you meet her too.”

Ellery’s smile lights up when she watches Noah speak of me with such respect and love. I think I’m swooning over my Greek god.

“Noah, Heather, will you please join us inside? I’d love to show you around after breakfast. Will you be staying here tonight? But please, don’t feel obligated. I have one of the guest rooms made up for the both of you. Oh . . . listen to me ramble. I apologize . . . I just simply don’t know where to start.”