Making Home Ch. 10

AVERY

The next morning, I stretched in my bed as my mind pulled together the events of the previous night. Did Mr. Crawford really put his mouth on me... there? And then he had said, "I'm going to fuck you." It really wasn't what he said but how he said it. His voice sounded almost desperate. Almost like he had wanted to for a while now and just... hadn't. I had no idea how I was going to face him now. My cheeks grew hot at the mere thought of it.

Glancing at my clock, I noticed it was much later than I had planned on sleeping. With a grunt, I pushed myself up and grabbed the throw off of my bed to wrap around myself. Last night was a good indicator that my sleepwear was accessible. I think I finally understood why he pushed for me to have more conservative pajamas. I pulled on some socks and slipped out of my room to make my way downstairs.

He was seated at the breakfast table, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Although he was usually on some device, today he was just staring out of the window at the frozen lake. He was handsome, sitting there and gazing at the little slice of heaven that was his backyard. I shuffled my feet to make a little noise and he looked over at me as I approached. His smile was a welcoming smile, but it also seemed like it pained him to give me only that much.

"Good morning, Avery. How'd you sleep?"

Horny as all get out. "Okay. You?"

He ran a hand through his hair and I couldn't believe how sexy he looked. "Okay, too, I guess." He groaned and sat up a little straighter. "Would you like something to eat? No Clyde on the weekends. He wasn't supposed to be here yesterday but did me a favor since it was a half day for him. But I'm not completely incapable. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

I looked over at the kitchen. "I can make it if you just tell me how."

He stood and walked over to me.

"Nonsense." He placed a hand on my back and ushered me toward the table. "Have a seat."

I took the chair next to his. "Okay, then."

After a few moments and some rustling in the kitchen, he returned to the table with another steaming cup and the creamer from the fridge. "Here you go." He set the cup down.

"Thanks." I palmed the cup, waiting for it to cool and absorbing the heat through my fingers. Lips pressed against my head, and I leaned into it before he had a chance to back away. He gave a small hum as if surprised, then took his seat at the head of the table.

He sighed heavily and leaned back, crossing an ankle over his knee. "I've come up with an idea."

I looked over at him. "Oh?"

He pulled his mouth into a thin line and nodded. "I would like to create a list of acceptable physical gestures between us. A list that neither of us can stray from. That way we'll have boundaries and lines won't be blurred."

I swallowed. "A list?"

"Yes. Kisses on the forehead or temple, snuggling on the couch, that kind of thing."

That actually sounded like a good idea in theory. I could probably stick to a list. "I think I can get on board with that."

He blew out a quick breath and looked me in the eyes, the hunger back from before. "I'm very attracted to you."

His eyes had locked mine in a staring contest and I suddenly felt a little trapped. And a little hot. My heart began to thud loudly in my chest, and I pondered if he heard it.

"You are?" If he was, then maybe I could give in a little. I never gave in to the things I wanted in life.

He looked away again and I felt like I could breathe. "I can't pursue you. I need this to work. I hope you can understand, and I hope you can help me with that."

What if I didn't want to help him, though? What if I wanted it, probably more than he did? Last night felt wonderful, and not just because of what happened sexually. Something about him wanting me, desiring me, felt so wonderful and so right. My pocket buzzed as my phone received a notification, and I retrieved it to take a look.

"Time's running out. Packing up for a permanent trip soon. One way, no return flight."

I licked my lips and set my phone down on the table. I could have laughed. Of course, I couldn't have Mr. Crawford. No matter how badly I wanted him, I should have known I couldn't have him, even if he wanted me back.

I felt numb. "I can help with that."

He forced a smile, and it reflected exactly how I felt in that moment. "Should we brainstorm a list?"

I took a sip of my coffee and decided that it was still too hot. I added some creamer to it and watched the creamy white disappear into the blackened depths. "Yeah, we can do that."

"Good." He opened up his laptop. "Try to think of gestures that are PDA, but not over the top. I've already held your hand, offered you my elbow, kissed your head, rested an arm over your chair."

"We've hugged."

"Hugged?"

"Outside the restaurant last night."

He paused his fingers over the keyboard. "Oh, that. Avery, that wasn't supposed to be PDA. That was my mistake."

"Oh." My cheeks grew hot. "Well, you might hug me in public?"

"I suppose that's true. I guess I can add that."

"Should we add things we might do around your sister?" I pulled my knees up and pulled the blanket around me further.

"I think that would be helpful, yes."

"Hmm. Well, how about snuggling on the couch? Any teasing touches? Tickling?"

He paused and looked over at me. "Tickling?"

"Yeah. Are you ticklish?"

"Not really. Are you?"

"No." I looked away and sipped at my coffee.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You are."

"No, I'm not."

He chuckled. "Yes, you are. Should we find out?"

I looked back over at him. He looked so genuinely happy. Is this really what we were going to be fighting against? A chance at happiness together?

I cleared my throat, remembering my promise to him. "We should keep growing the list."

His smile faded. "You're right. How about... a peck on the lips?"

I was wondering if that might make the list. I wasn't against it and I had kind of hoped for it. "I guess."

His fingers moved over the keys quickly. "Can you think of anything else?"

I shook my head and adjusted my hands around my cup. There were things I'd like to add to the list, but of course they weren't appropriate.

"Okay. We can always add to it as we need to." He pressed a key and a moment later, my phone dinged with a new email. With a snap, he closed the laptop and tapped his fingers on the table. He seemed lost in thought as he stared at the sleek black plastic of his electronic device. Suddenly, he slapped a hand on the table, causing me to jump a little.

"What?"

He sat up and grinned at me. "Finish that up and get dressed. We'll go get some brunch."

"Brunch?"

"A meal between breakfast and-"

"I know what brunch is. You just seem over enthusiastic."

"You'll see. Now hurry up and go get ready." He stood from the table and walked off.

I frowned after him and took another drink from my cup. Last night had changed Mr. Crawford and I was having a harder time figuring him out. When I walked downstairs about thirty minutes later, I heard grunting coming from the closet. There were a few winter items littered all over the floor and there was muffled talking.

"Are you sure you left gear here? No, I'm telling you that I don't see anything. Yes, I looked in the back behind the -- oh, wait. Here's a tote. I think I found it." There was shuffling and a snap of a lid. "Okay, here it is. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll see you soon. Love you, too."

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, Mr. Crawford stepped out of the closet with a large plastic tote.

He looked over at me and smiled. "Good timing. These are Chloe's, but she said you could borrow them today." He set the bin down and pulled out a matching jacket and snowpants. "We'll eventually get you your own, but this will do for now."

I leaned over and looked into the tote to notice a balaclava, gloves, and boots. "What do I need those for?"

He grinned like he had at the breakfast table. It almost looked boyish, and I realized it would be impossible to deny him anything when he looked at me like that.

"We're taking a sled out."

"A sled?"

"Snowmobile. Ever ridden one before?"

I shook my head. "No."

"You're in for a treat." He handed me the pants and jacket and dug out the rest of the gear.

I pulled everything on and, with a little help, was all secured and snug as I waited for Mr. Crawford to put his gear on as well. Once we were ready, I followed him out to one of the unattached garages nearby. It was a short walk, and the snow was light and fluffy beneath my feet. Once we neared the building, I noticed the sound of a motor running. I followed him through the opened garage door and saw a sleek looking snowmobile emitting exhaust as it ran.

He threw a leg over it and settled down before watching me expectantly. "Climb on."

I walked over to him, my snowpants hissing as the material rubbed with each step. He held out a hand and I took it, using his support as I climbed on behind him and sat down on the cushioned seat. He pulled a full helmet on and handed one to me. It was a snug fit, but I was able to slide it on. Suddenly, hands reached behind, and he cupped my bottom as he slid me up tight against him.

"You need to sit close. Hold on tight." His voice filled the helmet, and I rolled my eyes as I realized there was an intercom system in it.

He took my arms and wound them around his waist. Holding onto him felt like hugging. It was actually really nice, and I leaned into his back. Hugging was on the list though, wasn't it?

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Hang on tight."

Shortly after his warning, the machine let out a whir and we sped out of the garage, the door coming down as we crossed the threshold. Everything around me was a blur of white. He liked to go fast and I was unused to his shifting body weight as he took corners and climbed banks.

"Lean in the direction I do. Try to stay close and move as one."

"Okay." I was still unsure of what he meant but followed his movements as he shifted.

"Yes. Like that." He took another corner, my front glued to his back. "Good girl."

I could feel it again. I was grinning like an idiot at his praise. I squeezed a little tighter and tried to imagine the warmth of his back against me instead of the thick layers of cold protection. I knew that I was crushing and crushing hard, and that it would do me no good. I had had crushes in the past and they had never ended the way I wanted them to. How could I expect this time to go any different? He took another turn and soon we were no longer in a ditch, but a forest full of trees and snowmobile signs with arrows.

"It isn't too far. Just through this patch of woods and a little more along the highway. We'll be there in no time."

"You can take your time." I hugged a little tighter.

He chuckled. "You like snowmobiling, then?"

"I guess you could say that."

He hummed and continued to maneuver the machine along the trail through the barren trunks. True to his promise, we soon were out of the woods and once again moving at a fast pace in the ditch along the highway. There was no other feeling quite like being on a snowmobile, gliding so close to the ground. I couldn't see the speedometer as I hugged his back, but I got the impression that we were moving pretty swiftly. The sky was clouded over with the usual gloom of winter, but everything seemed so bright with the light reflecting off of all the snow. It was beautiful, even as cars sped by just a few meters away.

We soon came to an intersection and waited at the light until we were clear to pass. After crossing the highway, Mr. Crawford drove the machine into a parking lot set in front of a building that looked much like an old Victorian home that had been restored. The house was white with a large turret on the south side, and a wrap around porch. There were intricate lace like details that gave it a cozy feel, but with a sense of elegance. I immediately liked it. A sign out front read, 'Chateau Marcinella' in golden cursive with a forest green background.

"Is this where we're having brunch?"

Mr. Crawford cut the engine and took his helmet off. I followed suit.

"Yes. This used to be a bed and breakfast that I frequented before I lived in the area, but the owners recently renovated it into a wedding venue. On select weekends when there isn't a ceremony, they offer food services to the public."

"Oh. So, it's a restaurant?"

He chuckled. "More or less." He stood and climbed off of the sled before offering me a hand.

I grunted as I moved my stiff limbs and reached for his hand.

He pulled me up and grasped my gloved hand in his. "Ready?"

I nodded and he led me up the stairs before opening the door and ushering me in. The building was quiet except for some subtle chattering and the harmonious tinkling of silverware and china. The lighting was soft, but unnecessary due to all of the natural light flooding in. Christmas garlands decorated stair railings and mantels, while a white christmas tree was set and decorated in a room with a fireplace. A harp played somewhere off in the distance, and a man dressed in a suit waited at a podium to greet us.

"Mr. Crawford. For two, this morning?"

He nodded and started to undo his jacket. "Yes, please."

"Very good. I can store those for you if you'd like to just place them on the bench there." He gracefully waved a hand to his right and stared behind Mr. Crawford.

I, too, began to undo my jacket and slid it down my arms before setting it down. I pulled my boots off and my snowpants to set those aside as well. I was about to reach for my boots to put them back on when a hand came out in front of me.

"Compliments of the house." A pair of slippers were set in my hands.

"Oh. Thank you." I began slipping them on and looked up at Mr. Crawford, who wore an amused look on his face. "They do know you well."

He chuckled and gave me a small nudge before taking my hand again. "Come on."

We followed the host through the restaurant to a small table set in the turret. I was hoping we would get to sit there and gleefully took my seat as Mr. Crawford pulled out a chair for me.

"I apologize, but this is the only open table we have today."

"You're sorry? This is awesome! It's so beautiful! There's so much light! These windows are magnificent!"

The host smiled and handed us each a menu before he left.

I leaned over the table. "Why would he apologize?"

Mr. Crawford didn't look up from his menu as he spoke, "You'll see."

With a shrug, I turned back to my menu and studied my options, my stomach soon turning sour. I flipped through the next page, but wasn't any less pleased.

I swallowed hard, then carefully set my menu down. "I'm not hungry."

He chuckled. "Oh yes, you are. What would you like to eat?"

"I'm not," I challenged.

He sighed and then put his menu down.

"Avery," he warned.

"I'm not hungry for 16 dollar oatmeal," I stated flatly.

"It isn't just oatmeal. Read the ingredients."

I couldn't help the small incredulous laugh that burst from my mouth. "I don't know how you sleep at night spending that kind of money on food."

He sighed again, a little bit more forcefully. "If you don't pick something, I'll order for you. And, it won't be the cheap oatmeal."

I sat back in my chair. "I can't. It just doesn't feel right."

He picked up his menu and began perusing once again. "It better feel right pretty soon because you'll be expected to order at expensive restaurants when you accompany me on business trips."

I took a few breaths as his words sank in. He was right. I hated this, but I needed to get over it to survive. I picked up the menu again and began to look at the choices, doing my best to ignore the prices next to them. I finally settled on lemon and blueberry ricotta pancakes and a cup of coffee. If he was going to make me spend, then I could justify it by getting what I wanted.

The waitress came and took our orders. I was left to look around while Mr. Crawford became busy and focused on his phone. Part of me was a little irritated, but he also wasn't really my boyfriend so I let it go. I studied the decor and refinished wood floors until I noticed that my arms started to feel a bit chilly, despite my sweater. I rubbed my hands up and down my biceps, willing warmth into my muscles.

Mr. Crawford put his phone down and glanced at me before smirking. "Chilly?"

"Just a little."

"Hmm. Get up."

I did as he said and watched as he hitched my chair against his. He began moving my silverware and beverages before motioning for me to sit down. Once I was seated next to him, he tucked me under his arm and picked up his phone again. It felt incredibly intimate to be seated so close to him in public, but his warmth was rewarding enough. I relaxed into him, allowing my head to fall into the space between his jaw and collarbone.

I got a good look at his screen and noticed as he deftly opened and replied to emails, new ones popping up almost as quickly as he could answer them. He spent a few more minutes working before setting his phone down.

"Break time."

"You're always working," I wondered aloud.

"I guess I am."

"I'm sorry."

His chest rumbled as it shook with a small bit of laughter. "Why is that?"

"Less time for fun."

He shrugged. "Who says working can't be fun?"

I sat up reluctantly as our food arrived. "Probably the same people who have more fun doing other things."

He stared at me and I realized how my statement must have come off. I cleared my throat and grabbed my silverware.

"Fun things like what, Avery?"

I cut into my pancakes. "Oh, like reading books or playing games."

"Games like 'Twister'?"

"No! No, I mean like video games." I could feel heat rising into my cheeks. I thought he said we weren't going to go there again? I began to cut a little more frantically until his hand came down over mine, stilling my movements.

"I'm only teasing," he whispered into my ear, his breath hot as it curled around my helix. "I can't help but enjoy the way you blush."

The heat in my face quickly moved south as warmth pooled in another place on my body. His lips brushed my lobe, and a shrill voice lulled me from his spell.

ELIJAH

"Eli! What a surprise!" My body seized as I recognized the voice that called out my name. I reluctantly pulled myself away from Avery and forced a smile as Ophelia Newman approached our table.

An artificial grin was plastered on her face as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Now that we were no longer attached, I couldn't see what I had been so infatuated with before. Her eyes were void of life and her teeth gleamed with a monetary kind of hunger. Her fingers lacked the usual pedicure, but not the ring I had gifted her last Christmas. There was also a new ring on her finger, and I was relieved to find that it didn't bother me.

I rested my arm across Avery's shoulders and smiled up at my ex. "How are you, Phea?"

She played with the back of her hair. "Oh, you know. Recently got engaged, but who's keeping track?" She smiled politely. "Is this your niece or something?" She jerked her chin at Avery.

I straightened in my seat. Of course, she was aware that I didn't have any nieces. Nonetheless, I also forced a polite smile. "No, this is my girlfriend, Ms. Avery Mitts. She's a very bright young lady aspiring to go into medicine."

"Oh, a brainiac. How attractive," she chided, ignoring Avery completely.

Avery straightened next to me and cleared her throat. "Excuse me for being forward, but who are you?"

Ophelia giggled and stared down at Avery, condescension and disdain sapping any beauty her gaze once held. "Ophelia Newman. Eli and I used to date. It was pretty serious, in fact. I'm sure you've heard all about me."

"Actually, no. He's never said a word about you before."