Erased (14 page)

After having lived for so many years in hotel rooms and empty apartments, I went all out on my bedroom here. The room is large, with a king-size bed set under a picture window that overlooks the forest beyond the back parking lot. This room looked very similar to hers at one point, but on one of my trips, I had the wall between what made this originally two rooms removed and the big window put in. The furniture is all dark-stained oak, which gives the room a warm feel. And now, she’s curled up on my big bed with her face buried in my pillow.

Damn, she looks good there.

I walk over and lightly tap her on the rump. “Come on, Cupcake, before the shower runs out of hot water again.”

She throws me a small glare at the nickname, then buries her head back in the pillow. I can’t help the small chuckle that escapes. I give her another little slap on the ass before I reach out and lift her into my arms.

“I want to go get some breakfast,” I tell her as I walk us to the bathroom.

She grumbles something I don’t understand because her head is burrowed into my neck, then I feel a little bite and my step falters.

“Careful, baby, or I won’t take you out to breakfast.” I gently set her down under the warm stream of water then step in behind her.

At my words, she looks up in surprise. “Take me out?” she asks, cautious excitement in her voice.

“Yeah. I thought maybe we’d drive into town and go to breakfast. Then maybe see a movie or go shopping.”

And there it is. What I was afraid I wouldn’t see again.

A blinding smile lights up her face and I bask in the warm glow emanating from it. She practically starts bouncing in excitement, and I grab her before she slips and falls.

“Are you serious, Slade? You’re going to take me out?”

I laugh at her enthusiasm. Fucking adorable.

“No, Slade isn’t taking you out. Derek is.”

Her eyes go wide at my statement, and then she leans in and kisses me. After a moment, she deepens the kiss and lets out a little moan.

“Baby, if we don’t get moving—”

“Shut up, Derek.” Her hands roam down to my ass giving it a tight squeeze in emphasis.

So I shut up.

“Mmmmm.”

I shift in my seat, my pants getting tighter with every little moan coming from her luscious mouth. “Cupcake.”

“Derek, you have to try these pancakes.” She eats another bite and breathes out added moan.

“J!” I’m a little sterner this time, she raises a brow in question. “If you don’t stop making those little noises, I’m going to drag your sweet ass to the nearest dark corner and fuck you until you’re screaming instead.”

That statement does not help the swelling in my cock.

Damn.

I shift again.

She innocently bats her eyelashes at me before taking another bite of her breakfast and sighing in ecstasy.
Poor choice of words, idiot.

“J,” I growl in warning.

She bursts out laughing, and I can’t help myself from chuckling along with her, shaking my head ruefully. After finishing up the last few bites, she stares out the window of the small restaurant. Our booth is up against the glass and her eyes have been practically glued to it throughout the meal, watching the activities beyond it. Guilt starts to seep in at the way I’ve kept her locked up tight at the bar. I’m determined to make up for it though. I have something special in mind. So I push away those thoughts and stand up. Then I hold my hand out to her.

“Are you ready?”

Nodding eagerly, she smiles and grabs my hand, allowing me to help her up from her side of the booth. Instead of letting go, I surprise myself by lacing my fingers through hers. She glances down at our entwined hands. Then, when she returns her gaze to mine, her eyes are sweet and happy. The sadness is fading and I feel a little more relief with every bit that disappears.

After stopping at the register to pay, I lead her outside to the sunny street. The fall air is crisp and a little on the chilly side.

“Well, shopping or movie—or both?” I ask.

“Um . . .” She considers her surrounding and deliberates. “Let’s start with shopping and maybe go see a movie later.” She eyes me skeptically. “You really don’t mind taking me shopping?”

I just shrug. Do I want to shop?
No.
Do I want to shop with her?
I’ll do whatever she wants to do if it makes her smile at me.

After a moment, she heads for the store nearest us—a little antique shop. While she’s investigating all of the, in her words, “treasures,” I watch the way her face lights up at something beautiful, the way her nose scrunches up at some ugly trinket, and the way she throws me a smile here and there. I eat it up like a man starved and she’s my . . . cupcake.

After a few minutes, she has explored every inch of the store and picked out a small, porcelain piano to display in her room. As she heads to the front, I snatch it from her hand.

“Derek, what are you—”

I turn and look sternly at her. “Today is my treat, baby.”

She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off.

“Don’t argue with me, Cupcake. I’ll just take your wallet away and you’ll be at my mercy anyway.”

She cocks out her hip and crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her breasts up and giving me a nice view of her cleavage down the V of her shirt. I’m momentarily distracted but shake myself out of it and realize that, by the look on her face, this is exactly the reaction she was going for. So I step closer to her, backing her into a shelf, and press myself against her body.

“I’ll tell you what, kitten. How about you let me spoil you today, and tonight, I’ll let you pay me back in any way that you choose.” I let that sink in for a moment before thrusting my now erect cock against her. “As long as you do it naked.”

Her eyes are a little glassy, and I can see I’ve distracted her long enough to get away, and walk rapidly to the register and pay for her trinket. When I turn around to make sure she is ready to go, she is giving me a mock glare. But the effect is completely ruined by the flushed look of her skin and the twinkle in her eye.

“What are you waiting for, Cupcake?” I crave her touch, so I take her hand again as we leave the store.

Once on the sidewalk, I ask, “Where to next?”

Finding the street clear, she tugs on my hand, pulling me with her across to the other side. When we reach the store, I see a window full of lace and silk. The sight of all the lingerie has a slideshow of Cupcake in each and every piece playing in my head. And just like that, I’m hard as a rock. I pull back on her hand to stop her from going in.

“You don’t want to go in this shop?” she asks, disappointment written on her face.

I move us to the side of the door, out of the way of other people walking down the street. Then I lean down and whisper in her ear, “If I go in there with you, you won’t make it out of there with your current underwear intact.”

When I lift my head, I see that her mouth has formed a tiny “o” as she absorbs what I’ve said and the images associated with it. A delicate blush brightens her cheeks, and I can’t help but laugh before placing a quick kiss on her lips. Then, because she is so damn irresistible, I cover her mouth and deepen the kiss. After a minute, we are both breathing hard and I know I have to put a stop to this. Breaking from the kiss, I let my lips brush her ear as I speak, “You have the phone I gave you this morning?” Her head bobs in acknowledgment. “I’m going to take a look at something real quick, baby. Don’t leave this store until I come back. Stay away from the window and doors. I’ll be right across the street and I’ll be able to see the store the whole time, but I still want you to be cautious.”

A little shiver courses down her body, and she nods in understanding. Standing up straight, I put my hands on her shoulders and turn her to the door and smack her ass to get her moving. She glances over her shoulder with an irritated little pout but walks into the store without comment.

Once I know she’s safely inside, I take off at a brisk clip to a store I know that happens to be on the other side of the diner. When I step inside, I’m immediately surrounded by the smell of wood and varnish. I stay by the front window, keeping my eye on the lingerie shop. A familiar older man with fuzzy, gray hair, a bushy mustache, and laughing, green eyes steps from the back room. He walks over and shakes my hand in greeting.

“What can I do for you, son?” he asks.

After taking a deep breath, I start negotiating.

“THAT MOVIE WAS lame,” Slade grumbles beside me in the cab of his black pickup truck.

I giggle, and he flashes me a panty-melting grin. My spirits are higher than they’ve been in a long time. It’s been three days since he took away the piano, and he’s spent every minute possible trying to make it up to me. Though I’m not healed yet, we’ve fallen into a routine of quiet work during the day, handling the bar until close, then making love and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Tonight, he took another evening off and we went to see a movie.

Now, as we drive through the small town, I can’t help but notice that we’re not heading back toward the bar.

“Where are we going?” I question as I face him.

He appears to be nervous as he grips the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. “It’s a surprise.”

My face hurts from having smiled so much today. After having been angry and upset for way too long, it feels incredible to be happy again. My contented thoughts are interrupted though when he pulls into the parking lot of a church. I turn to him with a brow raised in question.

He chuckles at my surprise and teases, “I hope they let me in.”

We get out of the truck and walk hand in hand toward the small, white church not big enough to hold a hundred people. It’s charming with its azalea bushes under the stained-glass windows and proud cross sitting on the rooftop. An old oak tree towers over it as if to protect the church and its people. Several people are standing outside the church doors in intimate groups, laughing and fellowshipping with one another, which warms me.

I want to get married here one day.

The thought is a silly one, but the little girl inside me imagines a small wedding in the adorable, little church.

“Mr. Slade, so glad you could join us,” a friendly, balding man greets us.

They shake hands and Slade introduces me. “Bill, this is Jill Anderson. She works for me at the bar.”

I extend my hand to the man and he shakes mine as well.

“I’m the pastor here. So glad to have you.”

My interest is drawn away from him though to a little girl turning cartwheels in the grass. She reminds me of myself when I was young, blond pigtails flopping wildly. While I watch her, Slade speaks quietly to Bill about something not meant for my ears.

“We’re about to start,” Bill finally speaks to me, drawing my attention from the child.

After escorting us inside, he ushers us toward the front. Slade grumbles something about sitting in the back, but the pastor won’t hear any of it. Then we slide into the wooden pew and he takes hold of my hand. As soon as we sit, a small boy no older than five scrambles over to Slade. We both regard him questioningly as he intently looks Slade over.

“I know you,” he whispers to Slade conspiratorially.