Trusting You (6 page)

Before running outside to the pool, we made a bet: the last one in had to clean the dishes from breakfast. I won, which didn’t make Brett too happy. Laughing, I splashed him with water and rubbed it in. “I told you I would win, but you didn’t listen.”

“That’s okay,” he countered mischievously. “Since you obviously cheated and threw a chair in my way, I say that we need to make a deal.”

Swimming up to the steps, I sat down and crossed my arms over my bare chest. “What kind of deal? I can’t help it if the chair tipped over when I ran past it. That was your fault for tripping over it.”

He scowled and stalked closer, his gaze turning predatory. For a man to be so playful at times, he sure had a dangerous streak that made every single ounce of flesh on my body ache to be touched by him. His tanned, wet skin gleamed in the sunlight and my breath halted in my lungs. I knew what kind of deal he was going to offer me, but should I accept? He took it easy on me last time by showing affection; this time it would be primal, animalistic.

When Brett got closer, he grabbed me by the ankles and yanked me to him. My head almost went underwater, but he grasped me by the thighs and put his hand under my back, lifting me up. It just so happened that by lifting me up he only had to lower me down on his straining cock and I would be his.

“What kind of deal do you propose?” I repeated, breathless.

Brett nipped my bottom lip and sucked on it, pulling it in between his teeth. “Like I said, since you cheated by hindering my ability to win, I’m going to take you any way I want it and as fast as I want it. Don’t you think that’s fair?”

Liquid fire blazed in between my legs, and just by his words I found myself almost bursting with my soon awoken orgasm.
Did I think his offer was fair?
Why hell yes I did.

Frantically nodding my head, I wrapped my legs tight around his waist. “Yes,” I breathed. “I think it’s more than fair.”

Loosening my legs from around his waist, Brett flipped me around so my back was to his front while he spread my thighs, pushing me to the side of the pool so I could hold on. Groaning, he said, “I don’t think you know what you got yourself into, firecracker.”

Feeling his cock about to penetrate my core, I moaned, arching my back. “Show me,” I commanded.

With one hand he reached around my front and began rubbing my clit, while the other draped across my chest, gripping on to a swollen and heavy breast. Holding me tight against his chest, he plunged in deep with one hard thrust. Crying out from the sheer pleasure of him inside of me, I pushed against the side of the pool to help him go deeper.

Brett growled and gripped my hips with a punishing hold. “Do it again,” he demanded. “Push off again and take me deeper.”

I did it again, and at the angle we were at he was hitting just the right spot. The tingling began to build, and I knew it wouldn’t be long. Picking up his pace with both his hips and his hand running fast circles on my nub, I fell apart and cried out just as he came in hot spurts inside of my body. He rocked his hips against me, and once the tremors subsided he held me in his lap, still connected in body and soul as we regained our breath.

Brett kissed my back, my neck, and gently tugged my hair so that my head tilted back and to the side. He licked my lips and then plunged his tongue inside while slowly penetrating me down below, lightly thrusting his cock in and out of my sex, playfully.

“I just can’t get enough of you, Melissa. You are seriously going to drive me crazy,” he admitted. Smiling, he kissed my nose and slowly lifted me off of his still hard erection. Turning me around, he took my arms and wrapped them around his neck. “How did that feel? Do you regret not doing the dishes now?”

I laughed. “Hell no, it was worth it. I think I might let you do the dishes every night if you’re going to punish me like that.”

Smirking, Brett lifted a dark eyebrow and asked, “So you want to see me every night now? Is that how this is going to work?”

Splashing him with water, I untangled myself from his body and slowly climbed out of the pool. “You’re too busy to see me every day. I’m sure a man like you has much more important obligations,” I teased, hoping deep down that he would disagree.

Dripping wet and still hard between his legs, Brett stalked out of the water and up to me. He took my face in his hands, crushing his lips to mine while backing us toward the patio door and inside the house. When he pulled back, his steely gray eyes penetrated me deeper than any amount of lovemaking he could bestow upon me.

“I may be a busy man, Melissa, but there is
nothing
more important than being here with you …” He groaned into my ear and lowered his hand to cup my mound while gently pushing a finger inside me. “… and in you.” Pulling out his finger, he slowly put it in his mouth and licked off my desire for him. “I will never get tired of the way you taste. If you wanted to see me every day, I would make sure to be here. If that’s what you wanted all you’d have to do is say the words.”

He was waiting for an answer, but I didn’t know what to say. Seeing him every day would be a big step.
Was I ready for that?
Winking, and with a smile on my face, I told him, “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”

After showering and getting dressed … again, we climbed into Brett’s Jeep and sidled down the road. I still had no clue where we were going or who we were going to meet. However, I was a little confused when we pulled into the huge, vacant parking lot of the high school I taught at.

“Umm …” I began, curiously staring at my school. “What are we doing here?”

Brett grinned wide and winked. “Since we have a few minutes to spare, I thought I’d give you those lessons I promised you.” Cutting off his ignition, he got out of the Jeep and came around to my side, opening the door. I groaned as he pulled me out and pushed me around the vehicle with his hands on my hip.

“I’m telling you it’s a waste of time. I tried learning before and couldn’t get it,” I warned, throwing my hands up in the air.

Brett laughed and shoved me into the driver’s seat. “Oh well, you’re learning now. We can stay here all day, but like I said, it’s a good thing to know how to drive one. You never know when it might come in handy.”

He shut the door, went around to the passenger side, and got in. I adjusted the seat and sat there, waiting on instructions. “You can do this,” he muttered with a huge grin on his face. “To start the car you need to press in the clutch, which is the pedal to the left, and then turn the key in the ignition.”

I did as he said and started the Jeep. The moment I accidentally took my foot off of the clutch, the car sputtered and shut off. “Oops, that was an accident,” I admitted.

Brett chuckled. “It’s okay, and I’m sure you’re going to stall out several times here in the next few minutes. Start her back up and keep your foot all the way down on the clutch until you’re ready to start moving.” He put my hand on the gear shift and showed me which direction to put it in for each gear when I shifted up. I already knew the basics of a manual transmission, but it was still the actual doing it part that had me flustered.

Starting the Jeep back up, I kept my foot on the clutch and slowly pressed the gas while releasing the clutch. It
stalled.

I did that over a dozen times until almost an hour later I was cruising around the parking lot like a pro. Well, not actually since I still felt shaky taking off from first gear. “See, that wasn’t so hard to learn, was it?” Brett asked. “I knew you could do it.”

I parked his Jeep and shut it off. Taking a deep breath, I turned to him and smiled. “I don’t know why I always thought it was the hardest thing to learn. But it wasn’t that bad.”

Brett leaned over, placing one hand on the headrest and the other on my knee. Slowly he glided it up my bare thigh and under my white sundress to trail his fingers over the lacy underwear I wore. Teasingly, he whispered in my ear, “I think you need to be rewarded, don’t you? Once we get back this afternoon I’ll show you how proud of you I am.”

I bit my lip and nodded while he pulled back my underwear and massaged my clit with his finger. He placed my hand over the bulge in his shorts and I groaned. “I look forward to it. But this is one stick I most definitely know how to drive,” I teased.

“Why can’t you tell me who we’re going to see?” I asked, holding my sundress down over my legs as the wind blew through the Jeep. After learning how to drive his car and after our little teasing escapade, Brett took over the driver’s seat and started us on our way.

All Brett told me before we left was that we were going to meet a special lady of his. When I asked if it was his mother he shook his head, whispering no, before turning away from me. He didn’t think I noticed, but I saw the pained expression on his face even though he tried to hide it. I wanted to ask what was wrong, but thought better of it. If he wanted to tell me he would, and hopefully one day he would trust me enough to tell me.

There was that word again:
trust.
He didn’t trust me yet to tell me something that bothered him and hurt him. It pained me that he wouldn’t confide in me, but I guess it wasn’t just me that had an issue with trust. Once we got out of the city limits we headed into one of the smaller towns that bordered the city. Green fields and open meadows surrounded us as we headed into what we considered ‘the country’ out in our parts of North Carolina.

We pulled into a quaint little neighborhood, nestled in the quiet suburban land, which had a bunch of older brick houses that was probably considered upper scale when they were built many years ago. The houses actually had acreage, which was uncommon once you got into the city limits. I always grew up accustomed to city life, but there was something about gardens and land that appealed to me.
Maybe I’ll sell my home and get some land one day.

We parked in the driveway of a one story brick home with black shutters, and flowers in pots all on the front porch. Almost immediately an elderly woman burst out of the front door and I had a very good idea of who she was … his grandmother. I could see it in her smile. Her hair was short with tight curls which seemed to be the growing trend with older ladies these days, and she was wearing a bright red apron that had flour spread all over it like she’d been in the kitchen baking.

Brett jumped out of the car and ran up to the woman, capturing her frail body into his strong arms. Smiling, she cupped his face and kissed his cheek, but not before I saw a tear fall down the side of her face.

“I’ve missed you,” the old lady said, hugging Brett across his waist; he towered over her by a whole foot.

Brett smiled. “I’ve missed you too, Grandma.” When he noticed me waiting by the Jeep, he motioned me over. Releasing his grandmother from his hold, he came up beside me and put his arm around my shoulders. “Grandma, I want you to meet my …” He stopped and hesitated for a moment before looking down at me questioningly.

“Friend?” I suggested, lifting my shoulder uncertainly.

Brett’s grandmother scoffed and pulled me out of his arms and into hers. “Child, I can see it right now that you’re not just his friend. You two stop being silly. My name is Rachel, but you’re more than welcome to call me grandma.”

“I’m Melissa,” I said, once she let me go.

Brett took my hand and led me to the front door, opening it for both his grandmother and I like the gentleman he was. The moment I stepped inside the whole house smelled like heaven.

“I hope you two are hungry. It’s not every day I get company, let alone my grandson and his girlfriend. When you told me you were coming I had to cook your favorites.”

Love and admiration bloomed across Brett’s face as he guided me to the kitchen. Once I saw all the food my eyes went wide. On the table there was meatloaf, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, homemade biscuits, and other side fixings that would put Thanksgiving dinner to shame.

“Wow,” I breathed. “I have never seen so much food in my life.”

Brett chuckled and grabbed a piece of chicken. “That’s why I had to work out all the time when I was younger. If I didn’t I would’ve been as big as this house.”

His grandmother rolled her eyes and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “You silly boy, enough of that nonsense. Why don’t you go outside and pick those ripe tomatoes off of my vines while I get to know your lady here.”

His lips brushed my ear. “Now don’t let her tell you lies about me,” he whispered, winking at his grandmother.

Kissing me on the cheek, he squeezed my shoulder and walked out the back door that led to the garden. I could see rows and rows of growing vegetables through the kitchen window, and there were a ton of ripe tomatoes ready to be picked. He was going to be out there for a while.

As Rachel was chopping apples, she turned to me and smiled. “So how long have you known my grandson?” she asked.

My face flushed crimson at the memory of our first meeting, but I sure wasn’t going to tell her that. “I met him about three months ago, but I ran back into him at his company party the other night,” I informed her.

Admiration shone on his grandmother’s face. “Yeah, I’m really proud of my boy. I was so happy when he left for New York, but I was lonely without him here. I didn’t dare tell him that because he wouldn’t have left.”

“Is he your only grandchild?” I asked.

Sighing, she nodded and looked down at her apples. “Yes, he’s my only one. My husband and I thought we would have swarms of children when we got married, but God was only able to bless me with one … a daughter, Brett’s mother.”

Peering around the room, I tried to spot some pictures of what Brett might’ve looked like as a kid growing up. I saw several on the far wall and decided to take a look. There was a group photo with Brett, his grandmother, and what looked to be his parents. He had to be about twelve years old and looked exactly like his mother. She was a beautiful lady with her arm held tightly across his shoulders, smiling from ear to ear.

“Your daughter is very beautiful,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. “She and Brett look so much alike.”

Rachel nodded. “Yes, they do.” Sniffling, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and began peeling more apples.
Oh no, did I say something wrong?
Thankfully, I didn’t have to ask because she continued, “When my husband passed away from lung cancer I was prepared for it, but nothing could ever prepare me for what happened to my daughter.”

My ears perked up and I sidled closer to her, taking a seat. “What do you mean?” I asked. “What happened?”

Brett’s grandmother gazed out the window to where he was working in the garden. Smiling sadly, she explained, “I don’t know how much Brett told you of his mother, but she was the sweetest and most loving of anyone I knew. And I’m not saying that because she was my daughter, but when she loved someone, she loved hard.”

Wiping her hands on her apron, she left the kitchen and came back with some photo albums stacked in her arms. She set them down in front of me and opened up the first one. There were baby pictures of Brett everywhere, all chubby and bald headed; he was adorable. As I scanned through the pictures, they were mainly all of him with a lot of them with him and his mother, smiling. There were tons of his birthdays, vacations, school pictures, and all the holidays. All of them appeared to be nothing except happy times. However, they seemed to stop when Brett looked to be about the age of sixteen. There were no more smiles and no more of his mother. The light inside of his eyes was gone and he appeared angry, empty, even when he graduated high school.

When I got to the last few pages, my eyes widened when I saw the last one. It was an obituary for Caroline Rose Walker, Rachel’s daughter and Brett’s mother. She had died at the young age of forty-two, but I couldn’t find a reason as to how she died.

Swallowing hard, I closed the album and rested my hand atop it. Tears glimmered in my eyes because all I could think about was how Brett must’ve felt losing his mother when he was just a teenager. Softly, I muttered, “I’m really sorry about your daughter. I can’t begin to fathom what it would feel like to lose a child, or a mother in this case. Is Brett’s father still alive?”

My mother and father were still happily married, retired, and travelling the world. The last I heard from them they were sailing to Tahiti. I would be devastated if I lost one of them.

Taking a seat beside me, Rachel opened the album to one of the pictures of Brett’s mother and father together. For some reason his father looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I knew I’d seen him around somewhere before … but where?

Rachel sighed and said, “Yes, Brett’s father is still alive, but he has nothing to do with him. He hasn’t for quite some time now.”

With his arms full of tomatoes, I could see Brett making his way to the house. Quickly, I asked, “Why doesn’t he talk to his father?”

I had a feeling this was one of the things Brett wanted to keep from me, and I felt guilty for trying to pry the answers out of his grandmother, but I wanted to know what put that haunted look in his eyes.

Reluctantly, she closed the album and met my gaze with her soft, brown eyes. “When Caroline died, Brett blamed his father. He’s never forgiven him since.”

Furrowing my brows, I tried to think of a reason why Brett would blame his dad for his mother’s death. Not unless …

When my eyes went wide, Rachel placed a hand over mine and squeezed. “That’s right, child. My daughter didn’t die from natural causes.” She paused and closed her eyes. “She died by taking her own life. When Brett was fifteen years old, she left him here alone, motherless and with a father he blamed for it.”