Secrets Kept Page 12

  "Would you?"

  I nod. "Yeah. I would."

  "I wouldn't," he mutters, looking down at the floor. "I wish I didn't know."

  "Have you found bottles?"

  "She doesn't hide them. She doesn't need to. We have three bars set up in the house for entertaining. She can help herself whenever she wants and the staff will restock whatever's empty."

  "Then how do you know—"

  "Because I've caught her. I've caught her drinking first thing in the morning. I've caught her passed out in the afternoon. I've caught her in the middle of the night, filling a glass from the bar."

  "Gavin," I say softly. "You know what that means, right?"

  He doesn't answer, his eyes still on the floor.

  "Have you confronted her about it?" I ask.

  "She doesn't know," he says. "She doesn't know I've seen her."

  "And you've never brought it up to her? You've never even hinted at it?"

  "You don't do that in my family. You mind your own business. Look the other way."

  "I know but if she needs help then—"

  "She'd never go. She doesn't think she has a problem so she'd never get help for it." His head lifts and he looks at me. "Have you confronted your dad?"

  "Yeah. Too many times to count."

  "And?"

  I sigh. "He still drank."

  "See what I mean? It's no use talking to them. You can't change them if they don't want to."

  "That doesn't mean I'm going to give up on him. My dad's a good person. He really is. He doesn't want to be this way. He's tried to quit. He's been to a treatment center and it kept him sober for a few years but then he started drinking again."

  "Does he have a job?"

  "He's a private investigator. Owns his own business. He actually does pretty well. And because he's able to run his business, he thinks he doesn't have a problem. He has to hit rock bottom before he'll do anything."

  "My mom doesn't work so she could drink all day and it wouldn't matter."

  "She doesn't go out at all?"

  "She goes to charity events. Fundraisers. That type of thing. But she's never shown up drunk so nobody would ever know about her drinking."

  "Has your dad said anything to her?"

  "Not that I know of. They kind of do their own thing. They don't even sleep in the same room."

  "Oh." I'm feeling uncomfortable, like maybe he shouldn't be telling me all this. I'm glad he's opening up to me. It's just strange to know all this about the people I work for. People who seem so perfect on the outside with their perfect houses and perfect clothes.

  He looks me in the eye. "You can't tell anyone this. No one. Not even Megan. I've never told anyone any of what I just told you. I did because...I don't know...I guess I feel I can tell you stuff. But I need it to remain between us. Can you do that for me?"

  "Yeah. Of course."

  "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did. I'm just really protective of my family. We have our issues, just like anyone else, but I don't want people knowing about them. It's none of their business. I'm sure you feel the same way about your dad."

  "I do. Unfortunately, some people already know."

  "How would they know? You said he hid it."

  "Yeah, but he used to be a cop. He got fired for drinking on the job. Apparently he was too drunk to make it to the scene of a robbery and the robber got away. The story made the papers."

  "When did this happen?"

  "A long time ago. I was only four when he got fired. It was right after he left us."

  "He walked out on you and your mom?"

  "Yeah, but it was probably for the best. He was drinking a lot back then. He didn't want me seeing him that way. And it's not like he disappeared from my life. He showed up again when he got sober."

  I don't like talking about this. Having my dad walk out on my mom and me still hurts. I still remember how abandoned I felt when he left. I cried for days.

  "I'm sorry," Gavin says, holding my hand. "I didn't know he'd walked out on you like that."

  I shrug. "It was a long time ago. Anyway, he got fired from the police force a few months later, and now, when people look up his name online, that story is what pops up first."

  "I'm surprised your dad can get clients."

  "When people are desperate to expose a cheating spouse, they don't care who does it. They just want the evidence."

  "That's what he does? Catches cheating spouses?"

  "Mostly. He's done other stuff but the cheating spouse thing keeps him busy."

  A sizzling noise comes from the stove and I see my sauce is starting to boil over. I hurry and take the lid off and stir it.

  "I think this is almost done," I say to Gavin. "You want to pour the wine?"

  He comes up behind me, his arms going around my waist. "Thanks for making dinner. No girl has ever made me dinner before. It's nice."

  "You're welcome." I look up at him and he kisses me.

  He takes the spoon from my hand and sets it down, then turns me around to face him. "And thanks for listening. And pushing me to say what I said. I never thought I'd tell anyone that but now that I have..." He takes a breath. "I feel like a giant weight's been lifted off my shoulders."

  "Anytime you want to talk, I'm always here."

  He holds my face and kisses me, then his eyes go to mine. "You know what?"

  "What?"

  "I'm thinking this might go somewhere."

  I smile. "I think so too."

  Chapter Twelve

  "That was amazing," Gavin says, pushing his empty dessert plate aside. "Probably the best cheesecake I've ever had. The chicken too. Everything was excellent."

  "I'm glad you liked it." I get up, taking the plates to the sink.

  "Wait." He hops up from his chair. "Let me get that. You go sit down."

  I laugh. "You're going to do the dishes?"

  He walks me back to my chair. "Why is that funny?"

  "I thought you had people who do that for you."

  "My parents have people. I don't."

  "You don't need to. You live in the dorms. Eat in the cafeteria."

  "Last year I had an apartment. I had a whole year of cleaning dishes. Didn't even have a dishwasher." He rinses off the plates, then places them in the dishwasher.

  "Why'd you live in a place that didn't have a dishwasher?"

  "It was an old building. I liked that it had character. I didn't care about a dishwasher. Besides, my grandpa always says to learn how to do shit, even if you can pay to have it done. He tells me that all the time. I think he's afraid I'll be like my dad and hire everything out. That's why my grandpa taught me how to change a tire."

  He dries his hand on a dishtowel and comes back to the table.

  "More wine?" he asks, holding up the bottle.

  "No, thanks. Maybe later."

  "So you're not kicking me out now that dinner is done?" He sets the wine bottle down and takes my hand, pulling me up from my chair.

  "It's too early for you to leave."

  "I think so too." He presses his lips to mine, then whispers over my mouth, "Is it wrong to say how much I want you right now?"

  "Why would it be wrong?" I ask, my chest rising and falling against his.

  His eyes meet up with mine. "Because I haven't known you very long."

  "Long enough." I lift up on my toes to kiss him.

  He reaches around my waist and pulls me closer, deepening the kiss.

  I can taste the wine on his tongue. I can smell his cologne. I can feel his body pressed against mine.

  My body's fired up with desire and need. I can't wait any longer. And neither can he.

  He starts backing us up toward the hall, still kissing me.

  "Which one's yours?" he asks as we approach the bedrooms.

  "The left," I say, undoing his blue button-up shirt as we stumble into the room.

  He kicks the door shut as he unzips the back of my short knit dress. I quickly slide it off then undo my bra and toss
it on the floor.

  His shirt is now off and he's hurrying to get his jeans off, his eyes moving over my body.

  "Damn, you're hot." His tone is thick with desire as he kicks his jeans aside. He stalks toward me and forcefully yanks me against him. I like it. Because I trust him. Maybe I shouldn't, not this soon, but I do. So I like him being forceful with me. It's not how I imagined he'd be. Outside the bedroom, he's so polite. The well-mannered, preppy college guy. But now? It's like he's someone else. He's more assertive. More aggressive. And it's sexy as hell.

  All of a sudden he lets me go and takes a step back, his eyes lowering to my black lace panties.

  "Take them off," he orders.

  "Why are you being so bossy?" I ask in a teasing tone.

  He gives me a sexy grin. "Because I can."

  And it's true. Right now, I'm putty in his hands, ready and willing to do whatever he tells me to.

  "Well?" he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

  I smile and slowly lower my panties as he watches.

  His eyes zero in on my naked body, taking me in.

  "The bed," he orders.

  I climb onto the bed on all fours and slowly pull the covers back, thinking I'll give him a show. I know he's watching me. I can feel his stare.

  And then I feel his hand, gripping my waist from behind and yanking me to the edge of the bed.

  His forceful ways suddenly stop as he lets go of my waist and his hands softly caress my skin, gliding over my curves. I feel his mouth on my back, leaving soft kisses up my spine to the base of my neck.

  I feel his warm breath by my ear as he whispers, "You're so beautiful."

  My head falls to the side and I suck in a breath as his fingers stroke over my hot, wet center. He slips one finger inside me, then two. He works me to the very edge, then stops, taking his hand away.

  "Turn around," he says.

  Frustrated, I protest, "But I'm not—"

  My mouth clamps shut as he flips me onto my back. He's back to being forceful, his lips sealing over my nipple, tugging, sucking. Just moments ago, my body was so close, so ready, and now I'm almost there again. And then he pulls away.

  "What the hell?" I ask, sitting up on my forearms.

  He smiles at me. "Just wait. The build up makes it so much better."

  "What are you—" I stop and watch as he rolls on a condom. He must've got it out when I wasn't looking.

  I slide back on the bed, my body feeling like hot flames against the cool cotton sheets. Gavin's lean, muscular body hovers over me. I reach for him, craving relief, but he grasps my arms and raises them over my head. His eyes on mine, he lowers his body and eases inside me, ever so slowly.

  "Kate," he whispers over my mouth, then kisses me.

  My senses are heightened like never before, every part of me aching for relief. As he thrusts his hips, I feel it coming. With each move, he thrusts harder, deeper, and then finally, it lets loose, pleasure exploding through my center, my limbs, down to my toes. It's a feeling so strong my body trembles and I bunch the sheets in my hands, holding on tight until I slowly come down from it.

  He's right about what he said earlier. The torturous teasing he put me through was all worth it.

  His relief comes soon after mine, his hips bucking from the force of it.

  He takes a moment to breathe, then his lips slide lazily over my shoulder, then find my mouth, giving me soft, tender kisses.

  He lifts his head and looks at me. "I love being with you."

  I smile. "I love being with you too."

  "I don't just mean like this. I mean, everything else too. Going out with you. Having dinner with you. Talking to you. Just being with you."

  "I feel the same way."

  Part of me is shocked that's even possible. How can I feel this way—so happy, so content—when just a week ago I was crying in this very bed, feeling sad and depressed over some other guy?

  "Will you stay?" I ask.

  "I can't. I gotta go." He quickly gets up from the bed.

  Grabbing the sheet to cover me, I sit up. "You're leaving?"

  "No." He chuckles. "I was kidding. I'll be right back." He goes in the bathroom.

  For a moment I thought he really was leaving. It wouldn't be that unusual. Most guys I've dated don't spend the night. I didn't think Gavin was like that but I wasn't sure.

  He returns to my room and slides in next to me on his side. "You really thought I'd leave?"

  I turn to face him. "Most guys do."

  "I'm not most guys." He kisses me. "And I have to stick around. You might want to do it again."

  "You think so?"

  "I do." He lips travel down my neck. "I think you liked it."

  "And you didn't?" I ask, closing my eyes as his warm breath tickles my skin.

  "I liked it too much."

  "Too much?" I smile. "What does that mean?"

  "It means I never want to leave this bed."

  "Is that a bad thing?"

  "It is if I want to graduate college."

  I laugh and open my eyes. "I don't think you have to worry about that. You seem like someone who always achieves his goals."

  "Like the goal I have right now to see if I can get you to yell out my name again?" His leg goes between mine as he eases me onto my back.

  "I don't think I did that."

  "You did. More than once."

  Did I? I can't remember. I was so immersed in pleasure that I don't even know what I was saying.

  And now it's happening again as Gavin's hands run over my body, leaving behind a warm tingle that hints at what's to come.

  He achieves his goal. It isn't long before I'm yelling his name, gripping the sheets, and loving every second of it.

  We fall asleep, but I wake up when Megan comes home. I sneak out of bed and lock my bedroom door, then text her quick to tell her Gavin is here. She doesn't care if a guy spends the night as long as I give her warning so she doesn't run into him in the hall wearing only a t-shirt or a towel as she heads to the shower. That happened once and she never let me forget it which is why I always warn her now.

  ***

  In the morning, Gavin leaves and I shower and get dressed, then meet up with Megan in the kitchen for breakfast.

  "What are you doing today?" she asks, handing me a mug of coffee.

  "I'm going to Hartford with Gavin."

  "Why? What's in Hartford?"

  "Gavin's grandfather. I told you he invited us to his house for a cookout."

  "I don't remember you telling me that. So you're meeting his grandfather? Already?"

  I knew she'd react this way. She always says I move too fast with guys and then end up getting hurt. It's true, but usually I'm the only one moving fast, not the guy. In this case, both Gavin and I seem to be moving at the same pace, which is faster than we probably should be, but it feels right.

  "It wasn't really planned," I tell her. "His grandpa called when Gavin and I were out together and told Gavin he was making ribs this weekend. Gavin asked me to come with so I said yes. It's nothing serious."

  "Is he close to his grandpa?"

  "Very close. Growing up, he lived with him for a few weeks every summer."

  "Then having you meet him IS serious. He wants to make sure his grandpa likes you."

  "It's just a cookout. That's it."

  "Are you nervous?" She chomps down on her piece of toast.

  "No. Why would I be nervous?" I sip my coffee.

  "Because you're meeting his grandfather. A man Gavin looks up to and really wants you to meet."

  "If I was going to be nervous, it would be about meeting his parents. But I already met them so at least that's over with."

  "You didn't really meet them, right? You just saw them at their house."

  "True. I didn't actually talk to them."

  "If the grandpa thing goes well, I bet Gavin will make you meet his parents."

  "I don't think so. Besides, his dad's always traveling for his campaign. He
has no time to meet me."

  Checking the clock on the wall, I set my mug down. "I have to finish getting ready. He'll be here any minute."

  When I'm in the bathroom fixing my hair, I hear Gavin arrive and Megan talking to him.

  "Ready to go?" I ask, meeting them in the living room a few minutes later.

  "We're a little early," Gavin says, "but yeah, we can go. We could stop for breakfast somewhere if you want."

  "Gavin was just telling me about his dad," Megan says as she walks back to the kitchen.

  "What about him?" I ask, hoping Megan wasn't prying.

  "He's done a lot for the homeless," she says. "When he was governor, but also since then."

  "He's started several programs to help get people off the streets," Gavin explains. "Job training, placement programs. That type of thing."

  "I didn't know he'd done all that," Megan says as she loads the dishwasher. "Why doesn't he use that in his campaign?"

  "He does," Gavin says. "Just not that much. He'd rather focus on what he's going to do going forward rather than what he's done in the past."

  Whenever Gavin talks about his dad, he seems really proud. It's clear he looks up to his dad and respects him.

  "Should we go?" Gavin asks, coming up to me. "By the way, you look beautiful." He looks down at my dress. It's a yellow cotton sundress I've had forever. It's casual and cool and seemed appropriate for a backyard barbecue on a hot day.

  "Thanks," I say as we walk to the door.

  "My grandpa's going to love that dress. His favorite color is yellow."

  I glance back at Megan, who's mouthing the words 'told you'.

  Maybe she's right. Maybe Gavin is introducing me to his grandpa to get his grandpa's approval. Or maybe he just wants us to meet. Either way, it doesn't matter. I'm going because Gavin invited me and it sounds fun.

  We arrive at Henry's house around noon. His house is in an older neighborhood and is surrounded by homes that haven't been kept up. In fact the one next to his has boarded-up windows and a yard full of tall weeds. In comparison, Henry's house has been nicely kept up and has a weed-free lawn.