Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Val

I wasn't expecting to see Vaughn today, and I'm more happy than I can express as I watch him step forward with an older man. "Hey." I give him a smile. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working?"

"I am..." he hooks his fingers in his pockets. "I'm checking power lines to see if tree limbs are in the way, but I decided I wanted a little sweet treat before I got started."

"What can I get you?"

"A cinnamon roll and a prosciutto breakfast sandwich. What do you want, Dad?"

My surprise is evident on my face, I can feel it. "This is your father?"

"Yup, the one and only. Val, meet Harold. Harold, meet Val. All my friends call him Rod. Feel free to do that."

They look so much alike there is no denying that they are related. He's not talked much about him, but I've heard things about how he's lived his life closed off after what happened between him and Vaughn's mom. "Nice to meet you." I give him a smile. "What is it that you want?"

"I've never been here before." He shrugs. "Do you wanna order for me?" He questions Vaughn.

"Yeah, get him a cinnamon roll if Nolan didn't get all of them, and give him a sausage breakfast sandwich. Both of us will take orange juices too."

"I'll have it right up. I'll bring it to you, take a seat."

The way they amble over brings a smile to my face. They are the mirror image of one another. I've never met a parent of someone I was interested in before, to be fair before I left my house, I never really was introduced to anyone who wasn't part of our religion. It's still all so new to me, meeting different people, embracing who I really am, or at least who I'm finding myself to be.

Christy, one of our interns, comes up to me with the order. "Here you go, want me to take care of the front so you can go talk to them?"

I nod, grateful I didn't have to ask. It's still hard for me to put my requests in words. I take off my apron, and smooth out the shirt I'm wearing over the top of the pair of cut-off shorts. This is one of the last days I'll be able to wear them, because fall is upon us. "Here y'all go."

"Thank you." Rod takes his plate from my hand, as does Vaughn.

I set the orange juices down, and then clasp my hands in front of me, because I don't know what to do. They chose a table with just two chairs. When I'm about to turn around and go back behind the case, because I'm awkward, Vaughn reaches over.

"C'mere." He pulls me into his lap, situating me on his thigh and knee.

Heat blooms on my face, causing me to fan my hand up and down. I've never sat on a man's lap like this before, one I wanted to, anyway. His strong arm wraps around me, and he pulls me so that my back is braced against his chest. Every part of my body is touching his, and as I look down, I notice how close his hand on my thigh is to the middle of my body. The part that he made feel so good the last time we were together. What would it be like if he moved his hand a little bit to the left? If he stuck his hand inside the shorts, and made me feel good again?

He moans in my ear, bringing me back to where I should be concentrating on what's going on around us. "These cinnamon rolls are so fucking good. The other day I came in to get one and Nolan had gotten the last one. He's never going to hear the end of it. Who made them this morning?"

It takes everything for me to concentrate on the question he asked. How can he be sitting here acting so nonchalant and I'm literally burning up inside and out? "I made them this morning." I manage to find my voice.

"No wonder it's so good." He licks his fingers, and I wonder what it would feel like for me to take them in my mouth.

I'm starting to breathe more heavily, and I hope he can't see on my face the thoughts that are running through my head. They're dirtier than anything I've ever had before. Swallowing roughly, I close my eyes, before opening them and smiling shyly at Rod. "I wouldn't know, I never eat them."

"What?" His hot breath washes over my throat. "You don't eat them? Why don't you eat them?"

I'm debating on whether to tell him that the family I came from really valued the way the women look. That I wasn't allowed to be more than five pounds over what my father deemed to be the acceptable weight for me, my mom, and my sisters. I've watched carefully what I ate since I knew what that meant, counted calories, and gotten what I now recognize as disordered eating. "It's not my favorite." I shrug.

He cuts off a small portion of it, and holds it up to my mouth. "Try it? You're really missing out."

I've been missing out a lot my entire life, and I decided the night he kissed me that I would stop missing out. I'm tired of wondering what certain things are like, I want to feel it, want to live in the moment. I don't want to go to bed at the end of the day and wish I had done something different. The night I left my home, I decided that would not be happening to me any longer. "Okay, I'll try it." I open my lips, letting him feed me a little piece of it. Cinnamon has always been my favorite, but it wasn't something my parents were willing to purchase much. The flavor explodes against my tongue. I close my eyes and moan and I slowly chew the bite.

When I open my eyes Rod has gotten up to go get a few napkins, and Vaughn has leaned in, his lips at my ear. "Do you feel that?" He presses his hips up into me. "Hearing you moan like that, watching you enjoy something that much? It got me hard, almost as much as what we did the other night together. You can feel it, right?"

I do, it's hard and hot, pressing against my back. I want to reach behind me, dip my hand down into his jeans, and feel it. I read a romance novel a few months ago, and it described what people do in the dark with their clothes off. I want to do all of those things with Vaughn. "I can." I whisper.

"Let me see you again tonight?"

It's a bad idea, the more we see one another, the more I start to count on him and if there's one thing I've learned in this life, it's that I can't count on anyone other than myself. But I hear myself. "Yeah, I'll take a nap after we close at two."

He grins. "I have clothes in a bag in my truck. I'll come over right after I get off work, if I can shower?"

I nod, licking my lips. "I gotta get back to help."

Digging his fingers into my scalp, he presses forward until our mouths meet. It's not the type of kiss that's full of passion, not like what we had alone in my apartment, this is almost chaste. He's holding back, and I can't wait until he decides to let the tenuous control he has on himself go.