30. Montana

Ifound the grapes and washed some, but I was shaking. My fingers were trembling. I stared out of the window. Anya had pulled Tolstoy into her arms and was kissing his head. The sun was setting on the horizon and the sky was red. Everything looked so normal.

But…

Wow!

What the fuck just happened?

If it had been one second later, my father would have come and seen Cole with his hand up my skirt finger-fucking me. What a risk he took! My father’s estimation of him as something special would go down the drain. He would have become nothing more than a sexual pervert.

My dad would never have understood.

My dad would never believe that I was dripping for that sexual pervert. That I wanted him to keep on finger fucking me until I climaxed.

That way he had grabbed me had instantly drained the strength out of my legs. The shock and pleasure had sent bolts of electricity through my entire body, and now I was so worked up I needed him more than ever. As I returned to the table with the grapes I realized he had turned the tables on me.

Cole called Anya and she came running in. Everyone was seated at the table. The new bottle of wine was opened.

I wished more than anything that I could just leave. That we could both leave right now and head over to his house so we could just spend the next several hours in each other”s arms. Fucking until we both forgot our names.

I watched as he drank his wine and conversed with my father, and my blood began to boil. He was so elegant, so sophisticated, so cultured, so fucking charming…

“Did you grow up in New York?” I asked suddenly.

Both men turned to me, somewhat startled to hear me speak, and it was only then I realized I had most likely interrupted them. I was immediately horrified at being so engrossed in my own world and fantasies about him that I had ignored basic human manners.

”I”m so sorry,” I apologized. ”Dad, I”m so sorry, did I cut you off?”

My father laughed, but he looked at me strangely. “No, sweetie, you didn’t. You’re so quiet I’m sometimes startled when you speak.” He turned to Cole. “She’s like that, you know. She gets lively, then goes mute for a period of time, thinking, contemplating, and watching. It”s interesting, because...”

”Dad, there’s nothing interesting about going silent after talking too much,” I protested because I was embarrassed.

But Cole was having none of it. ”I completely understand you, Noah. Everything Anya does is interesting to me too. I think our personalities are quite similar and I absolutely love that.”

My dad went quiet. “You’re a good man, Cole. I’m glad you came to our town.” Then he turned and gave me a soft, kind smile that genuinely brought tears to my eyes. It’s been so long since he had looked at me like that. I had to look away to collect myself.

”You grew up in New York?” my dad asked.

Cole nodded.

”What do you do for a living, Cole?”

”I’m an accountant.”

“So you’ll be needing new clients…”

He cut a bit of meat. “I guess so.”

“Are you good at what you do?”

“The best.” He said it simply the way one would state a fact.

My father must have believed him, because he said, “Our accountant is retiring next year. You can have us as your client if you want. We’ll give it a year and take it from there.”

Cole nodded. “Sure. Why not?”

“Good.” My dad rose to his feet and tapped down on his stomach. “I think I need to take a nap, I”m a bit drowsy.”

”It”s the wine,” I said, and he gave me a look.

”Most probably. I’ll help you clean up when I get up. See you later.”

”Happy sleeps, Dad,” I said.

He nodded and turned to Cole. ”It was a great pleasure hosting you today, Mr. Swift.” He offered his hand for a shake, and Cole earnestly accepted it.

”The pleasure was all mine,” Cole said.

I couldn’t help but be amused as I watched the two of them. They sounded so formal and strict, and it was truly amusing. My dad left then, leaving me to my own devices, and I could almost have sworn it was on purpose.