Arranged (13 page)

“What are you talking about?” His voice rumbles close to my ear.

“My scholarship. They changed the requirements. It’s going to someone else after the break. It paid for housing and food and half my classes and I haven’t been able to find anything else, I’ve applied to the others but I don’t think I got enough of them. I think…”

My sobs impact in my chest, like I’m trying to drown them in my ribs. Like they’re something that needs to come out but I’m pushing down.

“I think I f-failed. My degree. My bakery. I won’t be able to go back to school after Christmas.”

Lee wraps his arms around me and I mash my face into his sweater, picking up his scent of faint chlorine and soap.

“And your parents are losing their company,” He mutters into my hair. “So they can’t help you, either.”

“I’m sorry,” I sob. “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t whine. I’ll do something about it, I promise. I can do it. You got me these amazing things but I can’t use any of them. Not for a long time. I can’t bake, I have to…put that dream aside. For now. I have to help Mom and Dad. I have to go home and help. That’s all I can do.”

Lee’s arms tighten around me. “That’s not true. You can stay here, with me and Grace. She’s talked about renting the guestroom for a long time.”

“But, my classes –”

“We’ll get married. Tomorrow. We’ll let the lawyers and my dad know, and we’ll get married and you can have your half.”

“You saw the will,” I sniff. “We have to be together for three months before we get the money.”

“You can re-enroll, Rose, it’s not the end of the world –”

“I wouldn’t use the money for school. It would go to Mom and Dad’s business. It has to. If the company doesn’t get saved, Riley won’t go to college, the house mortgage will be in trouble. Dad would get so depressed, Mom would get depressed and they’d fight more and more. It’s their life. Their dream. That soap company is like my bakery. If it fails –”

They’ll divorce. I don’t say that, though, I just choke back another sob.

“It can’t fail. I have to help. I’m dropping out and going back to help as much as I can.”

“You’re just one girl,” Lee murmurs. “How can you help?”

“I don’t know!” I clutch at his sweater. “I’ll give them my savings. It’s not enough to keep me in school, but it’s enough to put a dent in what they need. I’ll start working full time. Maybe two jobs. I don’t know. All I know is I have to help them. Or bad things will happen.”

“You’re not responsible for everyone’s happiness, Rose!” Lee pulls back from me and stares intensely into my eyes. “You’re only responsible for one person’s happiness – yours! Dropping out and helping your parents won’t make you happy. You’ll be miserable. Do you think your parents would want that?”

“They need help,” I whimper. “I have to help –”

“No you don’t! They’re adults. They can take care of themselves. Maybe your family will change because of it, but it’s not the end of the world!”

“I’m sorry I can’t be like you!” I snap and lean away from him. “I’m sorry I can’t be like you or Grace, running away from your family. You guys don’t like your dad and with good reason. But I like my parents. I want to help them!”

“They want you to help yourself. They want you to be happy.
I
want you to be happy.”

“I will be! Helping Mom and Dad will make me happy.”

“If it will, then why are you crying?” He asks gently. I wipe my eyes.

“Because…because I want to be with you. And I want to stay at this school I worked so hard to get into. And I want to keep studying, and learning, and earn my bakery. Every step. I want to keep going. I don’t want to stop. And if I go back, I’ll be stopping.”

“We’ll just keep thinking, then.”

“I’ll keep thinking.”

“No,
we.
Let me help you.”

“I can do it on my own.” I frown.

“You’ve already done so much on your own,” He sighs. “Just…let me help, okay?”

I purse my lips. There’s a long, tense quiet. He picks up one of my new mixing bowls and smirks in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“So, madame. I think it’s time to prove yourself.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

He taps the bowl. “Yeah? Well excuse me if I doubt your baking ability, then.”

I wrinkle my nose and grab it from him. “I haven’t taken any culinary classes yet. But I know some things.”

Lee sits at a barstool and motions to my presents. “Show me.”

“Will Grace want any –”

“Gone on a shoot for four days. In Guam.”

I take out butter and warm it in the microwave. I put the stuff I don’t need into cupboards and rummage around for the flour.

“Why do you like baking so much?” He asks.

I shrug and mix sugar and butter together. “I don’t know. I really got into it in high school. I liked doing it because it took my mind off things; grades and stuff. I wasn’t lonely – I had my brother and some friends. But I was so focused on doing well in school and getting scholarships I sort of felt I couldn’t do anything just for me. Something fun, you know? Being with friends was fun but it was tiring. Baking is soothing. No one to impress. Just you and flour and some butter and sugar and eggs. Everything mixes so well if you just give it a bit of love.”

Lee’s quiet, leaning on the counter to watch me work. His long fingers trace a groove in the marble countertop. Suddenly I’m nervous. I put a pinch of salt and baking powder in the mix and stir.

“What about you?” I ask. “You’re on the swim team. At UCLA. That means you like it or are good at it.”

He shrugs. “Like you said. It’s something that’s relaxing for me. Don’t have to think. Just swim.”

“I thought you didn’t know how to swim?”

“Yeah, when I was a
kid
. After what happened at the creek…” He trails off. “I begged my dad for swimming lessons. And it just sort of stuck. It’s what got me here – I transferred at a weird time, but they allowed it because the swim team needed fresh blood. That and I got fifty three seconds on their one hundred meter butterfly test.”

“What’s your major?”

“Haven’t declared. Not like it matters.” He laughs bitterly. “When I graduate,
if
I graduate, Dad will bring me back to Spain to take over the ranch.”

“And you’ll just go along with it? That’s not the Lee I know.”

He laughs. “If I can’t run, I have to go back. I don’t like Dad. But I don’t hate him like Grace does. Mom’s dead. Grace hates him. He has no one left but me.”

“You make it sound so sad.”

“It is sad. Our whole family is sad.”

To get the defeated look off his face, I offer him the cookie dough spoon. He licks it. His face lights up.

“This is really good.”

“You’re just saying that.” I ball the cookies up and put them on the sheet.

“No, I’m serious!” He takes another big lick. “This is really, really good.”

“All cookie dough is good. Wait until the actual cookies come out all dry and gross, and then tell me they’re good.”

Lee chuckles. As I clean up the cookie mess, he comes up behind me with the licked-clean spoon. He circles one arm around my waist and drops the spoon in the sink with the other.

“I missed you,” He mutters, low and in my ear.

“It was just a day,” I frown.

“And you didn’t text for three days before that.”

“I was busy trying to save my family and my scholarship. It’s a little more important.”

“Is it?” His voice sounds hurt, and his arm around my waist loosens.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” I pull out of his arms to put the cookies in the oven. I set my phone’s timer and look up. Lee’s staring at me, golden eyes hard like amber. Waiting for me to give an explanation. “It’s just…weird. This. I’ve never done the boyfriend thing before. You know that, right?”

“I do now.” He smirks.

“It’s hard for me. I don’t know where a boyfriend goes in the puzzle of my life. So I have to make room.”

“Well if it’s a chore –”

“It’s not! I didn’t mean for it to sound like that!”

“You’re the worst at explaining yourself.”

I frown. Lee comes up behind me again and nestles his head in my shoulder.

“But that’s okay. You can’t be beautiful
and
incredibly smart
and
kind
and
nice-smelling
and
also be good at explaining yourself. It’s okay to suck at some things.”

“Like boys,” I sigh.

“Like boys,” He laughs and nuzzles my neck. “God you smell nice. Have I said that?”

“All girls smell nice.” I blush.

“No, you smell the best, definitely.” He inhales. “Like vanilla and sleep.”

“Whenever you’re done with your creepy sniffing moment.” I try to move, but he holds me closer to him. Against him. I can feel the heat of his chest against my back. His hand snakes around and rests on my stomach, which starts to burn. It’s not an unpleasant burn – like too-hot coffee rather than fire. I’m nervous.

“I-I’m not good at this,” I say as the hand on my stomach travels lower.

“At what?” He murmurs.

“This. Stuff like this. I –”

“It’s okay.” I can feel him smiling into my hair. “I’m pretty decent, if I can brag.” I squirm as he fiddles with my jeans and undoes the button. “How long will the cookies take?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Perfect. You have three options. You can tell me to stop – ”

“No,” I say a little too quickly. He sighs good-naturedly and continues.

“We can do this here, in the kitchen –”

My face is so hot I could probably bake the cookies on it now.

“ – Or we can go to my room and get comfortable.”

“A good chef never leaves the kitchen while they’re cooking.”

“Then it’s settled.” Lee unzips my jeans the rest of the way, fingers dancing over the fabric of my underwear. “We’ll stay in the kitchen.”

His touch is so light I barely feel it. He runs his fingers up and down, tracing light circles on the cotton and pressing hard in some spots. The burning in my stomach moves to pool lower just as he hooks his finger in the band of my panties and slides them down. My shudder turns into a gasp as his fingers run down my slit. He hits a sensitive spot and draws lazy circles around it, snickering.

“Not nearly wet enough. I guess I’ll do the honors.”

He turns my head and kisses me over my shoulder, tongue winding against mine. He breaks it off and licks his fingers, golden eyes never leaving mine as he slides his hand back down and spreads the wetness into my folds. My face is on fire. I try to rub my thighs together to ease the ache between them, but Lee forces them apart with his hand and growls.

“No.”

“Lee –”

“Save your breath,” He murmurs. “You’ll need it.”

At the same time, his fingers pierce into me and I make a sound I’m sure isn’t human. He slides out and presses deeper, again and again. I grip the counter and bite back a moan but it’s hopeless to try when his other hand snakes down and grinds against the sensitive spot he was drawing circles around earlier. Soft, wet noises echo, and a slickness leaks down my thighs. Is that from me? Did I make that? Lee leans me forward and I brace against the counter for balance as he buries his face in my neck, dropping little kisses from my ears down to my shoulder blades and back up again. His wrist’s pace is infuriatingly slow – rhythmic and agonizing. I want more. I want –

“Faster,” I whisper.

“What was that?”

“Fast –” I blush and cut myself off with another moan.

“Can’t understand you.” Lee’s voice is singsong and way too happy. “You have to speak louder.”

“Faster.”

He pulls completely out. “I can’t hear you.”

“Faster!” I snap, rolling my hips, searching for his warm fingers. “Do it faster!”

“Do what? What exactly am I doing?”

I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. He wants me to say it out loud. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“F-Finger…fucking.”

“You –”

“Fuck me faster!” I cut him off. It rings in the kitchen but I have no time to regret the words. The cookie timer chooses that exact moment to go off and I groan. Lee chuckles, pulls his hands out of my pants, and walks down the hall.

“I’ll be in my room when you’re done playing with your cookies.”

I snarl under my breath and wrench the cookies out, throwing them on the counter to cool. I don’t even stop to button my jeans as I stomp down the hall and into his room. He lies on the bed, shirt hiked up and pants hiked down, showing off a glorious stretch of amber skin and sinewy stomach muscles.

“I hate cookies.” I frown. He laughs and pats his lap. I wiggle entirely out of my jeans. “I’m not good at stripping.”

“Neither am I.”

I throw my jacket at his head to make his smirk go away. While he struggles to get it off I strip down to my panties and bra. His eyes widen, and the smirk falls.

“You –”

“I went shopping,” I say quickly. The black lacy underwear and matching bra looked stupid on me, but Jen insisted they were great. Do they make me look weird? Or worse, fat? “I know they look dumb on me, but I didn’t want you to –”

He cuts me off by grabbing my wrist and pulling me onto the bed. He hovers over me on his elbows, eyes taking in every inch of my skin.

“You’re beautiful.” He leans down and kisses me. It’s heated and desperate and blinds me to the fact his hands snake around and undo my bra and pull down my panties. Fingers glance inside my thigh, tracing the wetness.

“Things are much better down here, now.”

“Shut up,” I snap, flushing. I kick away my underwear and help him pull his shirt over his head. The soft and hard lines of his stomach contrasts in the dim light, and it suddenly hits me. This is real. I’m really going to sleep with Lee.

“What’s wrong?” He furrows his brow. I shake my head and push dark hair out of his eyes.

“Nothing. I’m just –”

“Scared?”

I nod. He rests his forehead on mine.

“I am, too.”

“But you’ve done this a lot!” I protest.

“Not with anyone I’ve cared about as much as you.”

My blush comes back full force. Lee looks down and chuckles, hands glancing over my breasts.