A Gentleman's Agreement (8 page)

Ian wiped imaginary
sweat from his brow. “Whew.”

Blake held up his hand.
“Wait, wait, wait. None of you like going hunting?”

“Son, it’s not that we
don’t like it… Ah, hell. Yes, it is. I freeze my ass off in those woods. The
only part I love is bonding with my boys.” He tossed them all glances of
admiration. “But we can do that in the warmth of the cigar room.”

They all shared a good
laugh.

“Why didn’t anyone say
anything before now?” Blake asked.

Tucker rested his hand
on Blake’s shoulder. “We know how much you love it.”

Blake laughed again. “
Love
is a bit of a stretch. Like Dad, I just enjoyed being with you cats.”

“Awww,” Ian and Tucker
said in unison.

Ian approached Blake
with outstretched arms. “Let’s all give Prat a group hug.”

All three men descend
on him, wrapping arms around him and jostling him playfully.

“All right, all right,”
their mother said. “Don’t smother my baby.”

“Momma’s boy,” Ian
said, thumping his ear. “I’m going to say goodnight, family. Big day tomorrow.
I need to get a good night’s sleep. Need to be rested for all of that good food
I’m going to eat.” He kissed their mother and was gone.

Tucker stretched his
arms toward the ceiling. “Yeah, I better call it a night, too. Casey wore me
out. That little girl has some energy.”

“Night, bro,” Blake
said, giving Tucker a fist bump before he, too, escaped the room.

“I’m going to follow
you out, son. You have to finish telling me about those crazy church members of
yours.” His father turned to his mother. “You need anything, baby, before I
head up?”

His mother smiled
warmly. “No. I’ll be up shortly.”

Blake smiled when his
parent’s kissed. It wasn’t long and hard, but it was full of affection. Maybe
he could make an alteration to his earlier stance on marriage. If he found the
rareness his parents were blessed with, maybe, just maybe, he would take the
plunge into marital bliss.

He chuckled to himself.
What the hell was he saying?

“Night, son,” his
father said, clapping his shoulder on the way out.

“Night, Pop.”

“Can I fix you
something to eat?” his mother asked.

“Mom, you have been
waiting on everyone hand and foot since we arrived. Can I fix
you
something?”

She brushed his words
away. “Go on. You know I don’t mind a bit. I’m just—”

His mother covered her
mouth and tears welled in her eyes. Blake was off the stool and by her side in
record time, holding her at arm’s length. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head.
“I’m just so happy all of my boys are here.” She patted him on the cheek.
“That’s all.” She dapped at her eyes. “I’m fine. Just so happy.”

Though her words rang
sincere, Blake wasn’t wholly convinced she was being completely honest with
him. Instead of pushing the subject, he draped his arms around her and held her
close. “We’re happy to be here, too, Mom.”

He kissed the top of her head and
hoped that everything was truly okay.

Propped against the
slippery shower wall, Eunice’s elevated leg shook atop the shower bench. Two
fingers kneaded her hardened nipple as the sensation between her legs curled
her toes.

“Eunice.”

“I’m... I’m coming,
Blake,” she said as a powerful orgasm hit her, forcing her to grip the top of
the shower door to keep from collapsing to the floor.

“How much longer? I
really need to get in there,” Blake continued from the opposite side of the
door.

Eunice gasped for
enough air to respond. “Two...
minutes
.”

Gathering herself, she
shut the water off. Had she really just masturbated with Blake standing on the
opposite side of the door? Staggering across the room, she dragged her hand
over the bathroom mirror to remove the condensation, then leaned against the
granite countertop. When the doorknob rattled, she thanked God she’d locked the
door.

Blake groaned. “Are you
almost done in there?”

Eunice rested her hand
on her trembling stomach. “Get it together, girl.”

“What?”

She pulled the door open
and lurched from Blake’s solid frame filling the doorway. He bounced back and
forth, cupping his crotch like a two-year-old. She tested the gather in her
towel, as if his presence would cause it to unravel and fall into a puddle at
her feet. “What are you doing?”

Blake stilled and fixed
his eyes on the towel. “I…have to pee,” he said absently.

“You could have come in.
I would have closed my eyes.” The words drew Blake’s eyes back to hers.

“Liar.”

Yeah, he was probably
right. He placed his hands on her bare shoulders, sending a wave of heat coursing
through her.

“Happy turkey day,” he
said, then ushered her out the way. “By the way, your phone is buzzing like
crazy. I guess someone is missing you.”

“My aunt I’m sure.”
Since Trevor was somewhere in the middle of the ocean, and those were the only
two people who’d be missing her.

“I tried to come in. The
door was locked. Did you think I’d peek at you or something?”

Ignoring him, she said,
“There are like forty more bathrooms in this place; you could have used one of
them.”

“I like this bathroom.
Besides, I’m not sure I could have made it down the stairs.”

“That’s what you get
for waiting until the last min—” Eunice paused as Blake fought with the string
in his pajama pants. The action drew her eyes to the impression straining against
the thin fabric. Was he—? Oh, God, he was. Hard. As a brick if she had to give
a comparison. She turned away quickly. Sharing a bed with him already had her
body scrambled enough; she definitely didn’t need to see that.

He didn’t appear the
least bit bashful about his condition. Temptation nearly got the best of her.
Could a little peek really hurt?
Ugh
. Using her better judgment, she
moved away from the door.

“Has anyone ever told
you you’re like a starfish when you sleep?” Blake asked.

“A starfish?”

“Yeah. Your arms and
legs are sprawled all over the place.”

“This coming from the
man whose knee dug into my kidneys most of the night? Are you almost done in
there? I do need to get dressed.”

Blake exited the
bathroom, his eyes drinking her up. A jolt of nervousness rattled her, but she
wasn’t about to show weakness. It was all she could do to keep her eyes from
trailing to his crotch. It was like his loins were calling her name. “
Eunice.
Eunice
.” She mentally kicked him between the legs to quiet them.

He slowly pulled his
attention from her and turned away. A beat later he removed his shirt. Eunice
rooted to the floor, her eyes pinning to him. Muscles cut and curved over every
solid inch of his back. Each time he made a move, they flexed and rippled.

Her lips parted, and
“Mercy” escaped.

Blake faced her. As if
the sight of his back hadn’t been torture enough, his chest had to add to the
mix. Her eyes roamed over his pecs, down his torso, and to the pronounced
six-pack nestled snuggly at his midsection.

“What did you say?” he
asked.

Awareness kicked in,
alerting Eunice to the fact that she was staring. Really staring. Ogling. But
dammit, she couldn’t look away. Three months of abstinence decided to flex its
muscles. If that weren’t enough, Blake’s troublesome loins called to her again;
unfortunately, this time she answered.

Her eyes roamed over
his bulge, discovering he hadn’t been hard after all. It’d been his actual girth.
No wonder he hadn’t seemed embarrassed. He had absolutely no reason to be. She
may or may not have licked her lips. It was all a blur.

The dizzying affect of
arousal made her head spin and she could feel her body swaying. Like lightning,
Blake moved across the room and steadied her with both hands on her waist. She
closed her eyes to find equilibrium. Once she was sure the moment had passed, her
eyes opened. “I said
merci
. It’s thank you in French. For coming out of
the bathroom.” To be dazed, she lied fairly well.

The quizzical
expression on his face melted into a half-smile. “You’re welcome. I’m at your
service.”

Had he really needed to
add a wink? The longer his hands lingered on her, the tighter her nipples
budded and the more heat pooled between her legs. Taking a step backwards
removed her from his grip. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said, darting across
the floor before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

“Shouldn’t you get
dressed first?”

Eunice turned on a
dime, redirecting her steps toward the bathroom. “Yes.”

Ten minutes later, she headed
down the stairs. Checking the notifications on her phone, she had three text
messages. She paused when she realized they were from Caleb Martin.

I hope you have a
happy Thanksgiving. Be safe
.
Caleb

She and Caleb had
entertained a brief fling. More accurately, a friends-with-benefits type
situation. Nothing serious. Although he’d wanted more—way more than she was
willing to give—she’d told him they could only be friends...with benefits. For
one, he wasn’t someone she could see herself with long term. And for two, he
was Palmer Elliot’s right-hand man. That definitely would have created
workplace turbulence.

Eunice imagined Blake’s
reaction if he knew that, at one time, she’d been sleeping with the enemy. The
image that played in her head wasn’t pretty. Though she and Caleb hadn’t slept
together in months, they still communicated occasionally. He had information
she needed and with a little finessing, she knew he’d give it to her.

Typing back a quick
response:
Thx. U 2
, she continued her descent.

“Good morning,
sweetie,” Mrs. Farrington said.

Eunice wrapped her arms
around the woman. “Good morning.” When Eunice realized what she’d done, she was
about to pull away and apologize, but Mrs. Farrington held her close and glided
her hand up and down her back.

“I hope you feel better.
I was so worried about you. Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, ma’am. I slept
great. And I feel so much better, thank you. I’m sorry if I—”

Holding her at arm’s
length, Mrs. Farrington said, “Don’t you dare apologize.” She patted her cheek.
“Sit. I’ll fix you a plate.”

One thing Eunice had
noticed about Blake’s mother—actually, two things: she loved taking care of people,
and she loved to cook. “You don’t have to do that, Mrs. Farrington.” Even
though she’d asked her to call her Thelma, out of respect, Eunice just couldn’t
do it.

“Sit.”

Eunice laughed. “Yes,
ma’am.”

“Prat still asleep?”

“No, he’ll be down
shortly.” Eunice took a seat at the island as Mrs. Farrington prepared her
plate. “I enjoyed myself at The Farm. I haven’t had that much fun since your
anniversary party. Excluding my getting sick on the side of the road.”

“We’re just all glad
you’re feeling better. Especially Blake. He was really worried about you.” She
flashed another one of her warm smiles.

Eunice recall how he’d
comforted her on the side of the road and again when they’d arrived back at the
estate. Mrs. Farrington started to speak again, and Eunice scattered the
thoughts of how wonderful it felt laying next to Blake and gazing into his
hypnotic eyes.

“You should see The
Farm at Christmas. Solemn really outdoes himself. That man conquers anything he
put his mind to.”

Eunice understood where
Blake got it from. “You two make me smile. What you and Mr. Farrington have is
what every woman wishes for.”

Mrs. Farrington glanced
up at her. “Forty years and counting. I thank God for every second, and pray
for many more years with him.”

Eunice accepted the mile
high plate. If Mrs. Farrington kept insisting on fixing her breakfast, she’d be
twenty pounds heavier by the time they left. “How did the two of you meet?” Eunice
asked, dipping her spoon into a bowl of buttered grits Mrs. Farrington had just
slid her way.

“I got this.”

Both women redirected
their attention. Mr. Farrington sauntered into the room, a wide smile stretched
across his face.

“I was on my way to
football practice,” Mr. Farrington said. “I’m not sure what prompted me, but I
glanced to my right.” He turned his head as if he were reliving the moment. “Just
as I did, the most gorgeous bluebird I’d ever seen perched on the stone bench
next to Thelma. Seconds later, I lie to you not, this bird started to sing to
her. A melody so soothing it rooted me to where I stood.”

Eunice glanced to Mrs.
Farrington for confirmation. When the woman nodded, Eunice smiled.

“When Thelma’s hand
moved toward the creature, I thought for sure it would fly away. Do you know
that bird didn’t budge. Simply nibbled the crumb of bread she offered it. I
remember thinking, how in the world was that possible?”

Mr. Farrington gazed
off as if he were trying to make sense of what had happened so many years ago. He
finally snapped back to reality and continued, “I asked myself, what was it
about that girl that beckoned one of God’s most angelic creatures to her side? I
was completely blown away by what was unfolding right in front of my eyes. And
if that wasn’t enough, she took a delicate finger and smoothed it over the
bluebird’s head. It didn’t flinch.”

Eunice nibbled her
toast, hanging to Mr. Farrington’s every word. He ran a hand over his head, a
perplexed look on his face. What was going through his mind? Eunice grew eager
for him to continue.

Mr. Farrington leaned
against the counter. “I convinced myself something about her was magical. I
approached Thelma from behind, trying not to startle her or the bird. The second
I was as close to her as that bird, I completely understood what that bird must
have experienced.”

He stared at his wife
with the most delicate eyes Eunice had ever witnessed. A wave of emotion rushed
over her, but she willed herself not to cry.

“There was an energy that
radiated from her. I felt it through my entire being. I rounded that bench,
looked her square in the eyes and said—”

“
We’re going to have
a wonderful and beautiful life together
,” Mrs. Farrington said, finishing her
husband’s thought.

Eunice caught a tear
before it slid down her cheek. “That is so romantic. What did you say, Mrs.
Farrington?”

“I rolled my eyes,
snatched up the book I’d been reading, and stormed away. I didn’t have time for
his foolishness.”

Eunice laughed. “You
walked away?”

Mr. Farrington slapped
his hand against the marble top. “Yep, she sure did. I couldn’t believe it
either. I was the star football player, most popular boy in the school, and she
flat-out rejected me.” A sly smile spread across his face. “But as my father
instilled in me, and I my boys…never give up. I was determined to make her
mine.”

“Yes, he was,” Mrs.
Farrington said, a warm smile touching her lips.

Mr. Farrington tilted
his head and eyed Eunice. “Can you believe this woman turned me down ten—”

“Eleven,” Mrs.
Farrington corrected.

“
Eleven
times before
finally agreeing to go on a date with me.”

Eunice eyed Mrs. Farrington.
“Why did you finally agree to go out with him?”

“I was tired of him
stalking me. There every morning when I stepped out of my front door to walk to
school. Followed me through the halls of the school. Trailed me home nearly
every day after school.”

“You were persistent,”
Eunice said.

Mrs. Farrington
scoffed. “He was a pest.”

“I like to call it
recognizing a good thing,” Mr. Farrington said with a chuckle.

They all laughed.

Eunice tuned into them
like they were her favorite sitcom. “The date… How was it?”

“My goal was to be the
worst companion possible. That way he would finally leave me alone.” Mrs.
Farrington rested her hands on either side of Mr. Farrington’s face. “But I
fell in love with him that night.” She kissed him gently on the lips. “I’ve
loved him more and more with every passing second.”

Just then, Blake
entered the room. “Oh, God. My parents are making out in front of my girlfriend.
Are you as traumatized as I am?”

Eunice liked the way
girlfriend rolled off of Blake’s tongue so effortlessly. She admired him in a
pair of dark denim jeans and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to
his elbows. Swallowing hard helped her to steady her eyes on him and not his
body. “It’s not traumatic; it’s romantic.”

“Don’t tell me you’re
telling the ‘how I met your mother story.’”

Eunice swatted Blake. “It’s
a great story. Please continue. Why were you so against dating him?”

Mrs. Farrington studied
her husband for a beat. “I was skeptical.”