An alarm went off somewhere nearby, playing gentle guitar notes and birds tweeting in harmony with a melody. It was soft at first, but slowly rose in volume to ease those sleeping to wake.
And ever slowly, Mr. Blackbourne kept near me but twisted around. I eased back, relaxing on my side, still facing him, watching with one eye barely open.
He reached for the phone he’d placed near the bed and picked it up. He slid a finger across the surface of it, placed the phone on his chest and relaxed back on the pillow. He sat up just a little to put an arm over my head above me, looking down at my face.
That millimeter smile crept into two millimeters. In a very soft tone, he spoke, “Good morning, Miss Sorenson.”
I luxuriated in the way he always said that lately. Like a whisper of desire flowing out from between his teeth.
I lazily fluttered my eyes open and smiled, breathing out, “Good morning, Mr. Blackbourne.”
His leg slowly glided over until his ankle covered mine, hooking them together. The action set off several nervous and happy explosions in my very core. I couldn’t look at his face, and my first instinct was to again bury my face somewhere, and his body was the closest. Even with him sitting up slightly, I rolled into him, my face meeting his ribs once more.
He slid down, going back to the position he’d been in, and also to put a hand at my back. The phone slipped from his chest to between us. We paused for a moment, all except his hand, which smoothed up and down along my spine. Slowly the pressure of his hand deepened, rousing instead of relaxing.
“I have a notion to call off the entire day,” Mr. Blackbourne said in the same quiet tone.
I murmured against his chest. “Tempting...”
He sighed, his breath pressing at my hair, the warmth radiating through me. “But I believe Luke mentioned you wanted a house.”
The way he said it made me go queasy and delighted. Somehow, it made me focus on the reality of it all. It wasn’t like we could just find a house and all move in together. Who was going to pay for it? I couldn’t just ask for a house and think we’d just get one. “It sounds horribly selfish. I don’t know how...”
The hand from my back drifted around and gently cupped at my jawline. My eyes had drifted to staring lazily at his body, but he nudged me until I was looking into those gray eyes.
“We just have a few things to settle first,” he said in same casual tone he’d whispered good morning. Like this wasn’t a bad idea and it was only a few errands before we could do this.
His confidence and comfortable demeanor somehow magically drew meto a place inside myself. I just knew he’d make it happen. I didn’t know how, but he’d do it.
“There was a bit of a mishap yesterday,” I said. “With Nathan...”
“I know,” he said. “But a lot has happened with him since then. And I do have some personal information you should know about.” He nudged me gently and I sat up. The blanket fell away. I looked around the room, partially wondering where the others had gone in the night. When did he get here to get into bed with me?
Mr. Blackbourne sat up, his knees lifting slightly as he turned on the bed. He put bare feet on the floor. The cotton pajama bottoms he wore were black and, in an odd way, reminded me of the fancy slacks Victor wore often. And then I caught a small label at his waist noting the brand: Ermenegildo Zegna.
Not a brand I’d heard of before, but the fancier name made me think it to be rather expensive.
He twisted slightly to look back at me. I realized where I was staring and looked away. I slid my feet up closer to my butt so I could wrap my arms around my knees. “What happened?” I asked.
His lips opened and then he paused slightly, an eyebrow going up and he blinked a few times. This was odd to see without his glasses. His handsome face was angled in such a way it reminded me of when I considered Luke could be a model. Yet Mr. Blackbourne seemed to have that same quality. “When your step mother was still in the hospital, we sent Marie over so she could see her.”
“Yes,” I said.
“While she was there, we overheard your mother telling Marie about your real mother.”
It was months ago. I raised an eyebrow. “Did she say anything we didn’t know?”
“We honestly considered the possibility, given that she tends to twist reality, that any information she said could be false.” He twisted more until his knee was up on the bed and he leaned toward me a little. “She mentioned your mother was actually a cousin of your father.”
“A cousin?” The information was a little shocking. However, I understood why he cautioned it with warning she could be lying. It was hard to feel anything when there was a strong chance it wasn’t true at all. It simply left me with questions.
“Do you remember your father’s parents at all?”
“I think I remember them visiting when I was younger. But I don’t remember anyone else.” I paused. “Part of me isn’t sure if I remember or if Marie told me. I know my grandfather used to watch baseball games. You didn’t mention it to me?”
He nodded slowly. “We didn’t know if it should be believed, and it was very little to go on, anyway. We tried to look up your family on his side, but we were having trouble locating them. And during the time, we didn’t want to bring it up with everything else going on.”
I reached up absently to scratch at my cheek. I couldn’t blame them for being careful with anything she had said. “I’m not sure I would be ready to believe it, either.”
“We can’t dismiss the possibility entirely, but there’s more going on now.” He reached out for my hand, tugging it away from my body and squeezed it. Looking into my eyes, he spoke. “Dr. Green said you enjoy Frappuccino, I believe? Shall we pick a couple up on the way in to the high school?”
Despite the surprising information about my father and this supposed cousin, his gentle tone and offer for getting something to drink made me feel like we weren’t about to discuss my family’s dark secrets. We were merely about to go on an outing together.
Should it bother me that the information about my real mother didn’t concern me much?
Somehow being out from under the thumbs of my step mother and my real father made the harder parts of life a little easier to deal with. If I knew the truth, what would change? My mother was still dead. My step mother and real father didn’t want me. I’d still be with the guys.
Knowing the truth wouldn’t lead to any consequence other than knowing what really happened.
But part of me was still curious, and somewhat afraid of the truth. I hid this feeling from him, agreeing to get up and get going.
What if I was wrong with it not changing my life?
♥♥♥
Later, Mr. Blackbourne and I were in the silver BMW. He wore his usual gray suit, white shirt, maroon tie combination. I hadn’t needed to shower, since I’d bathed last night. He changed in the closet while I was getting ready. We’d slipped out of the house without coming across anyone.
I wore a school uniform, with a patch on the jacket, something that Gabriel had designed months ago for themselves. Instead of pants like the others wore, I wore a gray pleated skirt. The white shirt underneath the jacket was kept unbuttoned at the collar for easier access to the cell phone tucked away in my bra.
The outfit was surprisingly comfortable.
“People will notice,” I said, smoothing my fingers over the patch. “With me like this.”