Borrowing Trouble (8 page)

“He is not work.” I straightened back up in my chair.

Jimmy cocked an eyebrow at me and I saw the gears shift in his head. “Well, you’re right. He’s not purely work for you anymore, is he? Now getting around to the dressing down you know you deserve. I signed that waiver because my son asked me to. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Yes, sir.”
Is that it? Is he going to admonish me more?

“Good.” He nodded at me. “Now the workweek is over and I’m going home to my favorite Brannon. I expect that you’re doing the same.” Jimmy stood and I followed suit. “Truly, Marisa, it’s good to have you around as more than our lawyer.”

My eyes flew open when I found myself caught in Jimmy’s embrace, which I returned.
He just told me his daughter died, it’s okay to break Trip’s heart but don’t dare make his wife sad, and that he’s got his eye on me for any screw ups? This is too much. I need some space to think.
A friendly firm pat on my back brought the hug to a conclusion.

“Walk out with me? You can give me an update on that sexual harassment trial with the stripping allegations that we’ve got in December on our way down.”

Chapter Fourteen

              I curled up into a ball on Trip’s massive white leather sofa with a glass of Oregon pinot gris in one hand and my iPhone in the other, my fingers lingering over the call button to Mom.

Too much pain. So much love. I can’t imagine that. No wonder Bitsy liked the shopping and lunch. To have a little girl time. But how hard that must have been on her. To be doing that with me when she didn’t get to do that with her own daughter.

What really floors me is to have a freaking benefit each year to honor Caroline. Talk about smiling through the pain. I looked it up and last year they raised nearly four-hundred-thousand for St. Jude. That is so much money. To be able to host an event like that, grieving on the inside, while asking people to write checks to support other children with cancer? I’d be a heap on the floor. How does she do that?

“Mom,” I croaked.

“My darling angel! Are you okay?” Mom’s voice was full of concern and anxiety.

“I’m fine mom. Hale and hearty.” The lump in my throat burned, preventing me from swallowing down the tears anymore. I sobbed into the phone.

“Marisa, what is wrong?”

I swept the back of my hand across my dripping nose and pushed forward. “Mom, I love you. And I love Dad. You are wonderful parents. We’re so lucky.”

“Okay, now you’re really scaring me, sweetie.”

“No, no. Really, I’m good. Just sad.”

“Did you and Trip stop seeing each other?”

“No. I’m at his house now. He’s on his way back from a work trip and we’re having dinner when he gets here.”
I’m freaking my mom out. I need to get a grip.
Breathe.
I got myself under control and stopped my tears.

“So what is wrong? You know I will love you always and nothing that you can do or that can happen will change that.”

“That’s just it. We’re so lucky. Trip’s dad told me today about Trip’s sister. She died when they were teenagers.”

My mom gasped. “That is beyond horrible. A tragedy.” Her voice taking on the same restrained quiver contained in mine.

“I know. I can’t even imagine it. I had no clue. He’s never said anything.”

“So how did this come up?”

I sighed and polished off the glass of wine with one big gulp.
In for a penny.
“His mom and I went shopping yesterday.”

“Okay, I’m going to pretend that I’m not slightly offended by this since you haven’t gone shopping with me since we got your outfits together for sorority rush.”

“Mom, you know I hate Talbot’s.”

“It’s gotten much hipper, sweetie.”

“‘Hipper’ is not what I go for in clothes. Anyway, she took me dress shopping for a gown to wear for a St. Jude benefit the family hosts. It was kind of like playing dress up. All of these fancy dresses. And she insisted on buying me a dress and a pair of shoes for the benefit and she’s lending me earrings. It was way too familiar. I’d only met her once before when I went to his parents’ house for dinner.”

“That sounds nice. A little out of your comfort zone perhaps, but nothing worth crying over.”

“That’s just it. Apparently, after we went shopping she was talking to Trip’s dad, Jimmy, about me. He didn’t say it, but he implied that she’s pinning her hopes on me and Trip. Jimmy called me over to Branco today and told me as much. He told me about their daughter Caroline who died from cancer twenty-five years ago and how they are so thankful for the treatment she got at St. Jude that they host this benefit each year to raise money. He told me not to break his wife’s heart.”

“Sounds like her heart has been broken too much already.”

“Exactly. And I can’t control how things play out with me and Trip. I know from what he’s told me that she wants him happy more than anything. She was just so happy while we shopped and had lunch and she’s a very kind woman and I wouldn’t want to hurt her. She’s been hurt enough.”

“Marisa, I know you don’t listen to me, but that doesn’t stop me from talking. I’m a mother, and while heaven forbid I’m ever in the shoes of Trip’s mom, you want so desperately for your children to be happy and healthy. Maybe one day you’ll be fortunate enough to understand, but once you’re a mom, your own happiness is secondary in many ways. So, if you think in some strange way that stopping seeing Trip is somehow going to make anyone’s life better, it is not. He’ll be unhappy, his mom will be unhappy, you’ll be unhappy, and that means your father and I will be unhappy.”

I grinned and shook my head. “That’s a lot of pressure, Mom.”

“I don’t mean it like that. Trip was very nice at lunch. I’d like to see him again, but more than that I’d like to see you happy. And you seemed happy with him. Are you happy with him?”

“Yes,” I confessed.

Fuck, now it’s going to be even harder if this doesn’t work out. My mom now has her hopes on him and me, too. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I knew that already, sweetie, so if you think you’ve just spilled the beans with that admission, you are dead wrong. And, despite what you think, you won’t break my heart if you stopped seeing Trip. I haven’t shed even one tear over the guy who only talked about golf. See, I can’t even remember his name. But if you stop seeing Trip, it needs to be for the right reasons. The right reasons are that he doesn’t make you happy or you think you’d be happier without him.”

“I need another glass of wine.”

“I love you so much, Marisa. Truly. Being your mother is the best thing that ever happened to me. And if Trip isn’t the one for you, that is fine. Just focus on you, okay? Don’t borrow trouble.”

I smiled. “Trip told me that, too. About not borrowing trouble. I need to stop worrying,” I agreed without a single idea as to how to do it. “I love you and Daddy so much.”

“We love you, too, sweet angel. You’ve been a worrier all your life, but some things you just can’t worry about. Now, go wash your face and give our best to Trip.”

I ended the call, stretching out of the near fetal position I’d been in for almost two hours.

Oh, dear God, it’s after eight o’clock. Trip’s going to be here soon and me looking like a crying wreck is not what I’d planned.

***

I heard him call through the house. “Marisa?”
Okay, well there is no turning back now.
I lay draped across Trip’s bed, the ancient hand-stitched quilt smooth and cool against my naked body, surrounded by an assortment of his ties. Three small candles burned on a bedside table.

I kind of feel like Daisy in Gatsby’s shirts. All those years of school so I can make an F. Scott Fitzgerald allusion while trying to convince my boyfriend that he can indeed tie me up? Excellent way to use your English degree.

I breathed deeply and willed myself to be brave as he continued to call my name and his footfalls sounded on the staircase.

I seriously hope he wasn’t kidding about that yesterday. This could lead to all kinds of awful.

“Marisa?”

He’s right outside the door. What the hell was I thinking? I’ve never done anything like this before. What if he’s really into BDSM or something? What if he thinks I am? Stop it. Stop it. Worst case scenario he doesn’t even notice the ties and just decides to get down and dirty. And I can deal with down and dirty Trip.

The bedroom door swung open. “Oh. Fuck. Marisa. I’m going away all the time if I get to come home to this.” His bags clattered to the floor as he shrugged off his navy cashmere blazer. “What on God’s green earth did I do to deserve this slice of heaven?”

A decadent smile spread across my face, as Trip eagerly walked toward the bed, quickly sloughing off his clothes in the approach. “And it just got even better,” he whispered, running a finger along my cheek to my chin, and down my throat before twirling it around a peaked nipple. I gasped with want.

“You like?” I asked, trying for sultry confidence.

“How could I not? My girl in my bed, naked and waiting for me.” His lone finger continued its exploration, pausing on my belly button and hip before winding its way to where my thigh met my body. “What’s with the ties?”

I froze.
Oh, shit. He made a joke about tying me up. It was a joke. Now I’m going to look like I want him to tie me up. Maybe I kind of do, but I’m sure as shit not going to ask for it. I’m not that brave.

“If you want to be Daisy, you know I have plenty of dress shirts you can roll around in.” My eyes widened. Trip chuckled softly. “Believe it or not, Miss Tanner, I can read and even have a degree in English literature from the Ivy League. But getting back to the subject at hand,” he replied, picking up a green and gold foulard and dragging its silk across my stomach while taking my eyes in his, “is this what I think it is?”

“Sometimes a tie is just a tie, Mr. Brannon.”             

“Of course, Miss Tanner. Sometimes a tie is just a tie, but other times, a tie can be so much more. I take it you considered my tabled motion?” I nodded. “And did the motion come to a vote while I was gone?”

“It did.”

“Did it succeed?”

“Unanimously.” I shifted uncomfortably and looked away from his gaze. “Trip, this isn’t exactly part of my repertoire,” I whispered.

“Hey,” he said softly, directing my face back to his with the gentle press of two fingers on my chin. “I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want me to. Ever. And if you think for a second that I get off by hitting women, don’t. I could never hit a woman. I could never hit you.”

He placed a delicate kiss on my lips. “I’m comfortable telling you that the idea of you tied up at my disposal, putting your pleasure entirely in my hands, is more than appealing.” Trip circled his hips, as he hovered over me, letting his very hard cock press into my soft skin. “Very much more than appealing. But more appealing than that is you. So, Miss Tanner, do you want me to tie you up, lick you senseless, and fuck you until you are completely spent?”

I bit my lower lip and nodded. “Well, too bad. Because that’s not in the cards tonight. I don’t think I can be patient enough for that.” he lowered his head and took my breast into his mouth, sucking hard and grazing his teeth around my nipple. My body spontaneously arched into his warmth and a guttural moan fell from my lips. “Miss Tanner, may I present my plan for the evening?” he continued, rubbing his face between my breasts as he pressed them together.

“Oh, fuck, Trip. Whatever, however, I don’t care.”

“We’re going to start with you coming on my mouth, then I’m going to roll you over and fuck you from behind until you can’t hold yourself up. After that, we’ll move to the shower where you’ll take me deep in your throat and swallow. And maybe, just maybe, if you’re really good, I’ll let you have a little bit of sleep tonight before we do it all again in the morning. You on board?”

I wrapped my legs around Trip’s hips and reached down to stroke his hard shaft. “Deal.”

Chapter Fifteen

“So, what do you want to do today?” I asked, pouring a cup of coffee.

“Did you really just ask me that question?” responded Trip, reaching a hand under his ancient Brown University t-shirt I was wearing to caress my bare bottom. I swatted him away.

“You really are the horniest man in America.”

“With you I am,” he replied with a smile, hopping to sit on the kitchen counter while his oatmeal cooked in the microwave. I set my coffee mug on the island and wandered to the fridge where I found an assortment of yogurts.
Someone bought me breakfast.

“I take it that you anticipated me being here this weekend, since your fridge is stocked with my standard breakfast?” I snagged a cup of peach from the side door.

“The garage door opener wasn’t enough of a clue? It’s the yogurt that did it?”

I spooned the creamy mix into my mouth, hollowed my cheeks, and nodded at Trip.

Yup, I’m fellatiating a spoon. I’m in way over my head with him. Morning-after man in kitchen in nothing but his plaid boxers. Yum.
Like I didn’t get enough last night or this morning. I don’t think I can go another round, so I shouldn’t be cruel to him.

I popped the spoon out of my mouth and reached for my coffee, aware of Trip’s blue eyes intently watching my lips. The microwave dinged and he hopped off the counter.

“So what does your mom think of your new found interest in yogurt?”

He stirred a handful of raisins into his steaming bowl and laughed. “If you’re going to play coy, I know you can do better than that. But, to answer your question, she hasn’t asked. She’s smart enough to know it isn’t for me. I talked to her last night while I ate an early dinner during my layover in Charlotte.”

I gulped down more coffee.
Probably about the time Jimmy was bearing his soul to me.

“She told me about your shopping adventure and how wonderful you are. Reminded me that I needed to be an absolute angel to you. Seems like the entire Brannon family is smitten with you.” He winked at me and began shoveling oatmeal into his handsome mouth.

Not the entire family
.
There will always be a Caroline-shaped hole.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that she didn’t share any of your deep secrets. Although she did tell me that you refused to come home to Memphis from boarding school at winter break, so y’all go to Telluride for Christmas and that you’re a big skier. I didn’t know you ski.”

“Not well anymore and not often enough. Do you ski?”

“Water, yes. Snow, no. I’m from Memphis, hello, and the daughter of a farmer and a stay-at-home mom turned insurance agent. Jet-setting to Colorado isn’t exactly our life. Drives to the Gulf Coast or the Ozarks? That’s more the Tanner family speed for vacations.”

“Well, we’ll fix that this winter.” Trip took a sip from his coffee mug.

“I was not angling for you to take me skiing.”

“I know you weren’t, but we should go. We can play ski instructor and student. You can wear a deliciously snug snow bunny outfit. Damn. You do this to me without even trying,” said Trip, pointing to his erect cock.

I laughed.
He feels so good to be with. He really makes my heart happy.

“So, really, what do you want to do today?”

“This.”

“Come on, I blocked off the entire weekend for you. I even told Erica not to call unless her house was on fire.”

“And I mean this.” Trip hopped down from the counter, set his empty oatmeal bowl in the sink and wandered toward me. “Me, you, big house, not many clothes,” he said fingering the edge of my t-shirt. “Just a lazy day.”

“Trip Brannon takes lazy days?”

He nodded. “It’s been known to happen once or twice. I take it this appalls you, Miss Go-Getter?” He rested his hands on my waist and then ran them to my bottom. He lifted me up and placed me sitting on the massive island, our faces aligning. “You know,” he breathed in my ear, dragging a hand lightly up and down my exposed thigh, “ever since you first came into my kitchen, all sweaty from your run, I’ve wanted to have my way with you right here on this island.”

I ripped the t-shirt off over my head. “That makes two of us.”

“Christ, I am one lucky bastard.”

Late afternoon found us curled up together under blankets with sections from
The Commercial Appeal
,
The New York Times
, and
The Wall Street Journal
scattered around. I gazed out at the river. “Do you know that when I’d run by your house, before I knew who lived here, I’d think about how lovely doing this would be?”

“Cuddling and reading the paper?”

“No, sitting up on this high balcony with the river at your feet, eating breakfast or watching the sun set over Arkansas. I never imagined that I’d get to actually enjoy it one day.”

Trip lowered the markets section. “You can enjoy it every day, if you want.”

“Trip,” I cautioned.

He shrugged. “I’m not pushing you into anything. I know better than anyone that the way to get a lawyer to agree to anything is to let her think it’s her own idea.” Before I could respond, he disappeared behind the broadsheet.

“Trip,” I sighed. “I don’t mean it like that. I just mean that I’ve done the living together thing and, as you know, it didn’t work out so well.”

“Yeah, because you lived with an asshole,” came the disembodied gruff voice.

“We’ve only known each other for a few months. We don’t know each other well enough to even be talking about anything like this.”

“So, fine.” Trip set down his paper on his lap and began to massage my feet. “That’s something we can work on. What do you want to know? Shoot. I’m wide open here.”

“This feels weird.”

“Nothing weird about it. You said we don’t know each other well enough, so I’m looking to fix that. Now ask me a question.”

“Are you going to make me go to this benefit alone? Your mom has mentioned several times that I’m supposed to come even if you’re not there.”

“Yes, I will be there. I have missed it a few times, but I will be there this year. So, now my turn?”

I set down the
Times
style section and waved my hand at him.
Bring it on.

“This asshole that you lived with, is he totally out of the picture? He’s not some zombie boyfriend that is going to rise from the dead that I can’t kill off?”

“Hardly.” I snorted. “If you want gory details again, you’ve got them. I came home one morning and found him rutting away in our bed with someone else. I told him he had until lunchtime to clear his stuff out. I changed the locks. Got a new bed. Redecorated. Haven’t talked to him since. My turn. Why didn’t you want to spend Christmas with your parents at home?”

“Oh boy.”

“Well, your mom told me that y’all spend Christmas in Telluride because you used to refuse to come home to Memphis.”
Yes, I’m baiting him. Yes, I should probably tell him what Jimmy told me. Tell him that I know about Caroline, but I’m not going to force him there. He’s respecting my boundaries and I’m going to respect his. At least I’m going to try.
“I’ve spent every Christmas of my life with my parents at home. I can’t imagine it feeling like Christmas unless I was at home with them.”

“That’s exactly why. Christmas in Telluride isn’t Christmas at home. At least at first it wasn’t. The first couple of seasons my parents rented a place. They own, or Branco owns, a villa now. It’s pretty modest for a villa in Telluride, at least, and the company rents it most of the year. I think you’ll like it a lot. But to get back to your question, I went off to boarding school when I was fourteen. The year before I went off to school was really hard on me.”

No kidding. It would be devastating to anyone.

“Once I got settled in at school, I felt I could put all of Memphis behind me and I didn’t want to come back. We’d gone skiing a couple of winters before then and some of my new school friends bragged about their winter ski trips, so I just insisted on going skiing. Not sure how my parents settled on Telluride, but that’s why.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but Trip shook his head. “No follow up questions, Miss Tanner. At least not until I get my turn. So, would you ever not be a lawyer?”

“Sure, I guess, if I had to do something else. But I’m good at it.” Trip nodded his head in agreement and pressed his knuckles into the arch of my foot. I groaned.
Damn, that feels good.
“And I like it. It also allows me a lot of freedom in how I want to run my life. I’m not financially dependent on anyone. I have a nice car, my own condo, and can go on vacations with friends. I don’t have to clock in or out. Being a lawyer works for me. I’m not sure I can imagine doing any other job. My turn?”

He nodded and began massaging my other foot.
Seriously, can I keep him? Foot rubs? Please?
“That feels so good.”

“Good because I have zero idea what I’m doing.”

“You
are
a lucky bastard. Charmed life.”
Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.
“I’m sure you can guess where I’m going with my question. What was so wrong about Memphis that you didn’t want to come home?”

“Come here.” Trip dropped my feet and swiveled me into his arms, holding me tightly as we both looked out towards the river. “This is going to be easier without you looking at me. Plus, I get to feel you up.” He reached under my t-shirt and quickly palmed my breasts before settling his warm hands on my stomach. I giggled.
He is so handsy with me.
“The year before I went to boarding school my sister died. Being at home was too sad.”

Okay, so he’s telling me.
“Oh, Trip.”

“Yes, so like before no follow up questions until it’s your turn again,” he stated, before planting a kiss on the crown of my head. “My turn. Do you want a family of your own one day?”

Way not to hold back with the questions! Does it get any more personal?
I settled on honesty and took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’m going to answer and I’m glad you can’t see my face. You can’t ask a thirty-six, almost thirty-seven, year old woman who isn’t even married if she wants to have a family someday. It’s like asking a man dying of thirst in the Sahara if he’d like a drink of water. Of course he’d like it, wants it, but it’s not like he can just skip off and find a water fountain. It’s easier not to think about it.

“There are some things in life that you can’t control, can’t plan. And that is one of them. Did I ever think I’d be my age and single? No. Did I ever think I’d be Holly Homemaker, living in the suburbs and homeschooling a flock of kids? No. I never really thought about it. I just figured it would fall into place. It hasn’t. So, does that answer your question? Because I can’t say anymore on that topic.”

Trip let the silence fill in the space a bit. He placed another kiss on my head and tightened his embrace. “I’m tired of playing this game and I didn’t want to upset you. That wasn’t what I was after. I just wanted to get to know you better. You know by now that some of my ideas don’t come out as perfectly as they are in my head. So, let’s not play anymore,” he exhaled, softening his hold.

I nodded, expecting him to reach for the newspaper, but instead he breathed deeply.

“My sister developed leukemia when she was four. I was two. I don’t remember her not being sick, but I also don’t remember her being really sick when we were little. She went through a lot of treatments at St. Jude and was in remission by the time she was six. We were just normal kids. She had more medical appointments, of course, but we still played and fought and were just kids.

“Apparently it’s not uncommon for her type of leukemia to reoccur and reoccur much more intensely. Her leukemia reoccurred when she was thirteen. It was a really hard time. I was confused and scared and sad and hurt.

“My parents were a mess. I hardly saw my mom because she was at St. Jude so much with my sister and when she was home, I could hear her crying in the bathroom. My dad got drunk one night and wrapped his car around a telephone pole, which is why we now have George to drive him places. My mom knew she didn’t have the strength or will to keep my dad away from drinking, so she went with Plan B, which was to hire him a driver. I told you George was good at keeping secrets.

“Anyway, it was up and down. My parents’ housekeeper, Ophelia, became live-in help for a while. She took care of me. Fed me dinner. Made sure I took baths and did my homework. George drove me to and from school and tennis lessons. I think my parents thought that by keeping me busy with things like tennis lessons, it would be easier on me. Give me less time to worry, I suppose. I’m not sure it worked. All I know is that I absolutely hate tennis.” He paused for a moment and I remained still in his arms, letting him set the pace.

“Caroline, that was her name, Caroline. Things were looking better. She’d even been home for a few months. Then just after her fifteenth birthday, she just kind of fell apart. She died from an infection that her body was too weak to fight off. To this day, I’m an obsessive hand-washer. Not sure you’ve picked up on that yet, but I am.”