The unmatchmakers, p.13
The Unmatchmakers, page 13
He gives me a stern look. I suspect that “going commando” is the sort of tomfoolery that Neil would never consider, and at the sight of that look and his naked body, I clench my thighs together. When he climbs back into bed, I eagerly reach for him and drape myself all over him…then freeze.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing. Just afraid that our mothers could barge in and try to stop us, but they don’t know where we are, and they don’t have the key.”
I picture them yelling at each other outside, trying to figure out how to get in the window, and I almost start laughing hysterically, but then Neil draws my attention away.
“Thank you for earlier,” he says. “When Sandy asked where we were off to next, I had no idea what to say. I’m not great at thinking of words off the top of my head like that.”
“It’s not like I did a great job. When I said ‘Bon Echo,’ it came out as a question.”
“It’s much better than I could have done.”
The way he speaks…it’s like he’s genuinely impressed with me for this little thing, and yes, it’s just a little thing, but it still makes me feel warm and gooey. I chuckle.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“You make me feel like a s’more inside.”
His eyebrows draw together slightly, but he smiles.
It’s easy to be honest with him. After everything we’ve had to deal with in the past few days, he’s still here, beside me, and I feel like I can do no wrong. With my mother—and with many other people, in all truth—I often feel like I’m not quite right, even if they never say so. But I don’t have that feeling with him. Even if I annoy him at times, I always feel respected, and I hope I make him feel the same way.
“Seriously,” I say. “I’m happy to do most of the lying to other people in our relationship.” Using that word makes me slightly giddy…and then I feel even more giddy when I see my smile mirrored on his face.
“Your job probably gives you practice at thinking on your feet. For me, standing in front of a classful of kids—”
“Your worst nightmare?”
“Perhaps not my worst, but…”
“Yeah, it’s not for everyone,” I say, “but it’s rewarding, and I like the age I teach. Especially the stories they write. They’re so creative.” I start laughing as one randomly comes to mind. Why this one, I’m not sure. “I had a kid last year who wrote a story called ‘The Gold Digger.’ It was about a backhoe that was digging for gold. I assume he’d heard the term somewhere and it stuck in his mind.”
See, kids? Sometimes words don’t mean what you think they mean.
“Do you want children of your own?” he asks suddenly.
“Yeah. Not immediately, but someday. You do, too, right? You made a comment about doing better than your father…”
He nods.
I know, I know. We just had sex for the first time, and we’re already talking about whether we want kids. Maybe it’s a little fast, but I do like his way of being straightforward.
Yes, I could see this going places.
I briefly wonder what kind of parents we’d be, and how our own childhood experiences will affect the decisions we make. Ma took her parents’ example and did the exact opposite, and it sounds like Tanya was similar, though they didn’t fully account for their children being different people from them—I’ll have to make sure I don’t make that mistake.
But I don’t want to think about it too much right now.
I wrap my arms tightly around Neil and rest my head on his shoulder. We’re cocooned in our own little room, and it’s hard to worry about the rest of the world when I’m lying in bed with him. And when I swing my leg over his body, I can’t help but notice…
I inhale swiftly as his erection presses against my thigh.
“Sorry,” he says. “When I’m around you—”
I press a finger to his lips. “What do you have to be sorry for? This is our vacation from our vacation, and we’re going to have a good time.”
I straddle him and look down at his face, his adorably mussed hair, feeling like the most special person in the world for getting to see him like this. I hold his gaze as I rub myself against him.
“Leora…” he groans.
I slide down his body and take his cock into my mouth, all at once, and he releases a strangled sound. As I suck on him and he responds to my every movement—tilting back his head, clenching the sheet, and making more inarticulate noises—moisture pools between my legs again. I can’t help humping the bed, which doesn’t escape Neil’s notice.
I reach for a condom from the box on the bedside table. (When did he put it there? I didn’t seem him do it.) I open the package and roll the condom onto his cock, and he hisses out a breath.
And then I sink down onto him. Slowly, giving myself a chance to get accustomed to him again. He feels incredible.
He grasps my hips as I ride him, and this time, it’s a little different from the last, even if only an hour has passed. Because now, I know there will be more, once we leave this room tomorrow, and that only adds to my pleasure.
When I lean over and kiss him, I adjust my position so that I can get some friction against my clit. His hands move to my ass and squeeze, and now all the sensations are starting to overwhelm me. I barely know what’s happening; I feel like I’ve lost control of my body.
I shudder on top of him, my orgasm shooting out to the tips of my fingers and toes. Then I rest my body on top of his, and he holds me tightly for a moment before he begins to thrust up into me and finds his release.
This time, when he goes to clean himself up, I’m a blissed-out puddle who’s completely unconcerned about the future. Who can think of nothing but touching him more and more.
When he returns to bed, he holds me from behind, and we don’t speak for a long time. It’s a comfortable, affectionate silence, and his skin is pleasantly warm against mine.
Mmm. Now this is a good vacation.
Eventually, an unwanted thought pops into my mind: tomorrow, we’ll have to go back and face our families.
But then I push it away and become a blissed-out puddle once more.
Chapter 19
Breakfast is delicious. I selected waffles, which came with fruit salad, whipped cream, maple syrup, and a side of bacon, and I’m very happy with my choice. Neil, on the other hand, selected the summer vegetable frittata. He raises an eyebrow as I douse my waffles in extra maple syrup but says nothing, and I can’t help laughing at his mild disapproval.
I’m sure the food tastes good, in part, because I’m with him, and because I worked up quite an appetite this morning, after he woke me up with a kiss on the cheek, then slid between my legs and…well. Multiple orgasms occurred, let’s just say that.
I can’t help groaning as I swallow a bite of waffle with strawberry and syrup, and I can’t help noticing how Neil stares at my lips before studiously looking back at his frittata.
But we’re in public, so I need to rein in those thoughts.
“What do you remember about me from when we were kids?” I ask him.
“Well, I definitely remember the time you cheated at Scrabble.”
I don’t recall that, but it’s entirely possible I did.
“You spelled a seven-letter word with a blank,” he says, “and then when we got to the end and I saw there were three blank tiles on the board instead of two, I flipped over the blank in your seven-letter word, and it was actually a C.”
“It sounds like you’ve been mad about that for twenty years.”
“Eighteen years,” he corrects.
“Eighteen years, then. And so, when you saw me again last week, was that your first thought? Scrabble cheater?”
“No, only my second or third. My first was that I better catch you before you fell in the lake.”
I laugh as I spear a piece of melon with my fork. “We should have a game night when we’re back in Toronto. I’ll beat you at Scrabble fair and square.” That’s all talk. I haven’t played in years.
“I’d be very happy to have a rematch.”
“Is that so?” I wink at him, then have another bite of waffle.
My phone vibrates on the table. It’s a text from Dee. I hear you and Neil went to a bed and breakfast for the night. I hope you had a good time.
I choke on my waffle and wash it down with some orange juice.
Well, that just ruined my pleasant morning-after glow, even if I appreciate that Dee isn’t against us being together. And thinking of Dee reminds me of her fight with Neil’s mother and my mother, and I can’t help feeling slightly guilty again. I decided not to let our moms get in the way of what I have with Neil, but that doesn’t mean my guilt is entirely gone.
His phone buzzes, and he glances at it. “My mother is asking when we’re coming back.”
I sigh, and the half-eaten plate of food in front of me looks slightly less appetizing. But only slightly, because it really is delicious.
“How’s your food?” Sandy stops by our table with the coffee pot. “Need more coffee?” She gestures to our empty mugs.
“Yes, please,” I say, even though I usually wouldn’t.
Neil nods with a smile.
“Off to Bon Echo today, right?” she says.
“That’s right,” I say cheerfully.
When she moves on to another table, I put a bite of waffle drowned in syrup in my mouth, then follow it with a gulp of coffee. I can’t help remembering the day I came up here last week and how I was chugging coffee in the parking lot of Tim Hortons.
At least it’s only eight in the morning now. This shouldn’t affect my sleep tonight.
When we climb into Neil’s car, I ask if I can choose the music.
“Go ahead,” he says.
“Excellent.”
“You sound like a villain rubbing their hands in evil glee.”
“Exactly what I was aiming for, thank you.” I execute a quick bow, as best as I can in the car.
He pulls out onto the road, and I connect my phone to the Bluetooth and put on Katy Perry. Specifically, “Peacock.”
“Is she saying what I think she’s saying?” he asks about three seconds later. “Using ‘peacock’ for ‘cock’?”
“Yup,” I say cheerfully. “She wants to get him naked.”
“Is this supposed to be a hint? You already got me naked.”
“Mmm, I did, but I could always do it again.”
“I can’t believe this is a, uh, song.” He speaks in a voice that says, I disapprove.
I hide a smile. I don’t know why I’m so fond of his slightly stern looks…and now that I know what can happen when I get his clothes off, I’m even more fond of them.
For the next few minutes, we drive in silence—aside from the music, that is—and when the song’s over, he says, “How many times does she say ‘peacock’?”
“I don’t know. Probably a few dozen and…”
I trail off as I see the most incredible thing ever.
“It’s a sign,” I whisper.
“What’s a sign?”
“Didn’t you see it? Turn the car around.”
He sighs and turns around at the next opportunity. “You want to go to the store we passed?”
“Yes!” I’m practically bouncing in my seat.
We soon turn into the store that Robbie and I visited during the scavenger hunt a few days ago, but there’s something I hadn’t noticed then—or perhaps it wasn’t here.
“Are you serious?” Neil mutters.
“I sure am.” I jump out of the car and hurry over to the thing that caught my eye.
A peacock floatie.
“I’m getting it.” I turn my eye to the other floaties, sizing them up. “Which one would you like?” I ask Neil.
“None of them.”
“Why not? That fire-breathing dragon looks kick-ass. The frosted donut is pretty good, too. But you know what? I think the flamingo suits you best.”
Okay, maybe I’m doing this partly to delay the inevitable. I’m a little frightened of what will happen when we return to our mothers.
But also? I’ve always wanted a cool floatie.
“Or we could get two peacocks so we’re twins!” I say.
Neil levels me with a glare, but then he turns away, and it’s a bit hard to tell in the light, but I think he’s hiding a smile.
“The flamingo is fine,” he says.
“You know, I don’t need to get one for you if you don’t want…”
“The flamingo is fine,” he repeats.
“You’re aware of why I picked the flamingo, right? Because the first time we met, I drew—”
“I remember.”
“So you’re not going to tell on me this time?”
He shoots me a look of fond exasperation.
We head inside so I can find the uninflated versions of the floaties. I also delight in discovering that they sell beach towels—and not of the solid-color or plain-stripe variety. I don’t want to get him anything too over-the-top—after all, I’ve already convinced him on the flamingo floatie—so I pick out a towel with a pattern of seahorses in different shades of blue.
At the cash register, Neil shocks me by pulling out his credit card before I have a chance to dig my wallet out of my purse.
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says in a clipped voice that brokers no argument.
That tone kind of turns me on, to be honest.
Once we return to the car, our purchases safely stowed in the trunk, we continue to our moms’ vacation home. As we pull to a stop, I can’t help feeling anxious. What will they say to us? What sort of argument will ensue? How is this my life?
The front door is unlocked, and we enter.
“We’re back!” I shout.
No answer.
“They’re probably on the patio,” Neil says.
Good point. We leave our suitcases, as well as our new purchases, in the entryway and walk around to the back, but nobody’s here, either.
Huh.
“Maybe they took the boats out,” I suggest.
We check. All the boats are accounted for.
“Was everyone’s car out front?” he asks. “I didn’t notice.”
We return to the front of the house. Indeed, my mother’s car is gone, and it’s weirdly anticlimactic when I realize that. On one hand, I’m relieved, but this isn’t what I expected.
“Ooh, you know what we should do?” I say to Neil. “We should try out our new purchases while we wait for them.”
And this is how, half an hour later, I’m wearing my bikini and sitting on the dock in the peacock floatie. The flamingo is next to me, but Neil isn’t sitting there yet. He went inside to make us mimosas, and I figure this is a good time to call Jaime.
She answers my video call right away. “Hey, Leora—wait, are you in a peacock floatie?”
“Yup!” I say cheerfully, then move the phone so she can see the flamingo. That’s part of the reason I wanted the video call. “Neil and I bought them this morning, after spending the night at a B&B.”
Her eyes bug out of her head.
That’s the other reason I wanted a video call: so I could see her reaction.
“Tell me everything,” she says. “How was your night? Was it good? Was he good?”
I don’t tell her everything, but I give her a quick recap of the past twenty-four hours, and she practically squeals at a few points.
Just then, something cool hits my hand, the hand that isn’t holding my phone. I turn to see a mimosa…and Neil in swim trunks and a T-shirt.
“Okay, Jaime, gotta go. See you tomorrow.”
I end the call and sip my mimosa. As always, Neil makes good drinks.
“Mmm. Thank you.” I tilt my head up, and he leans down for a kiss.
It’s delightful to be able to do that.
“Are you ready to put the floaties in the water, now that you have your drink?” he asks.
“Nah, I’m kind of enjoying it here. Let me be lazy for a few more minutes. Take a seat.”
Neil dutifully sits in the flamingo floatie next to me and strips off his shirt.
I pick up my phone. “Say cheese.”
He scowls at me instead, but that doesn’t make the photo any less hot.
“I’m going to set it as my lock-screen picture,” I say before holding my phone up for another photo. “Now, let’s take a few more. One, two…”
Neil’s floatie is closer to the shore, and I trail off when I see what’s behind him.
Robbie and Erin are walking down the steps, and they’re holding hands.
Chapter 20
I close my eyes and give my head a shake, convinced I must have been seeing things. When I open my eyes, Erin and Robbie are still descending the stairs, but she’s in front of him and there’s no hand-holding.
Yep, must just have been my imagination. After the night in the B&B, my brain is seeing romance everywhere.
“So how was your date?” Robbie asks with a grin, looking at Neil. “By the way, I like your flamingo.”
“Thanks,” Neil grunts.
“It was my idea,” I say.
“Obviously,” Robbie says.
“Where are our mothers?”
“They went out for breakfast a while ago.”
“Were you and Erin in the house when I shouted ‘we’re back’?” I ask. “Interesting that nobody answered.”
“Huh. I didn’t hear you.”
“Neither did I,” Erin says.
Very interesting. I’m now suspicious that the hand-holding wasn’t my imagination. Although Robbie did say I was kind of like his sister or cousin, maybe he sees Erin differently.
Then I recall the night of the Butter Tart Incident, when I noticed Erin in the hallway. Were they together then?
I don’t have much time to consider that as my mother’s voice booms out, “Le-or-a!”
Yep, Ma and Tanya are now hurrying down the steps toward the edge of the lake. I brace myself for their arrival.
“What on earth are you doing?” Ma asks.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I ask mildly. “I’m sitting on the dock in a peacock floatie, wearing a bikini—the one you tried to steal the other day—and drinking a mimosa.”
