Page 26 of Milk & Cookie

My anxiety doesn’t abate. “Did Mom say something to you?”

“No.” He frowns, and his warm brown eyes sweep from side to side, while he studies my face. “What could she possibly say that would stop me from wanting to see this beautiful face? You’re looking at me like you’ll miss me.”

I swallow hard and shrug, pretending not to know.

Vince pulls me close and runs one hand slowly down my spine in a soothing motion, before stroking it upward again, in a way that makes me lean in with a shiver. “Everything about you is more wonderful than I could have hoped for, Frederica.” He moves me back, so we can see each other’s faces. “I have to go home and wrap up some loose strings for work, but I’ll be rushing back, and you’re the reason for the hurry, sweet girl.”

“Really?”

“After the taste I’ve had?” He looks at me as if I’m silly to question him. “I’m a man with an appetite, and I’m hungry for you, Angel. So fucking hungry.” He gives me a shy smile. “It’d take an army to keep me away — I’m very big and strong.”

A sobbed giggle escapes me, and he kisses my forehead before laying his adoring gaze upon me again. “It’s nice to know you’d like me around for longer,” he says, blushing sweetly. “I’d love to spend more time with you. And your family, if that’s something you’ll allow. It feels weirdly natural, to be around you all — like I could belong here.”

My heart stammers in my chest and stumbles into a sprint. Does he mean he wants to stay with us? Permanently?

We haven’t talked about that, and it’s not as simple as my wanting it, which I haven’t properly meditated on yet. I have the girls to think about, and Mom will be dead against it.

Her warning flashes into my mind.

Am I blinded by pleasure? Am I being selfish?

I haven’t spared this situation a thought beyond how Vince makes me feel things. I’ve been following my intuition and the all-consuming desire to merge our energies and create something inspired by the incredible, undeniable attraction between us, but we haven’t talked about what that means or what it may look like. He’s been wanting to talk, but I may actually have been avoiding that discussion, in case it means my time with him will have to end.

I search his face. How could I sustain any kind of permanence with him, if my family doesn’t approve? It feels wrong to question my intuition, but what if Mom’s right? What if I’m too star-struck to make the right choices? Vince seems so sweet and sexy, and he makes it hard to think about anything but fun and pleasure. But what if I unwittingly invite danger into my home? Is a gut feeling a strong enough reason to trust him when I know what could go wrong?

Mom loved and trusted my father — thought we’d be safe — and we’ve been in hiding for years because of it. He’s still the first monster that stalks into my mind when I hear a noise in the night. He’s what can come of trusting the wrong man, and why Mom’s tried so hard to train me to trust my gut, but now she’s saying I shouldn’t, and that feels wrong… I’m so confused.

I squeeze my eyes shut, to help focus my thoughts. “Belong here? With me?” I try to remain calm, but when I open my eyes, his face seems almost sad.

“I’d like to,” he says softly, picking up my dress. He gently lowers it over my head and threads my arms back through the straps for me, while I stare at him. “But whether I do or not is up to you.”

He tidies my hair for me, lifts me from his lap, and sets me on the table, so he can pull up his pants. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Freddie. I have to return to the city today, but I’m coming back, because I’m old enough to know what I want, and I won’t miss a chance to strive for it. I understand you’re still young, though. You have endless possibilities ahead of you. I’m one option, and I’m happy to be, but it doesn’t really matter what I want when the decision isn’t up to me.”

“What would happen if I accept we belong together?” I can’t see it working out happily for everyone involved.

“Whatever you wanted.” Vince dips his head and watches me from under his dark eyelashes. “If you’re asking me what I’d like to happen, the answer is that I would love to make babies with you, Fred. Lots of them. But I’d also want to stick around and help raise them. That’s who I am. If you’d prefer something different, I’d appreciate you letting me know once you’ve decided — and definitely before any babies get involved. Does that sound fair?”

I nod, unable to form words.

He smiles. It’s a kind smile. Friendly and inviting. But it’s edged with a caution I know I put there.

“I think you’re wonderful,” I whisper.

He blushes sweetly and avoids looking at me. “Okay.”

He inhales so deeply his shoulders and chest appear twice their already impressive size, and then lets his breath out slowly and glances at the clock on the wall. “I should go,” he says. “I made you start late, and I need to give you time and space to think about what I’ve said, without looming over you like some big” — he gestures up and down his body — “me.”

He sounds so annoyed at his beautiful size, despite having no control over it.

“Vince?”

He shakes his head and ducks down to kiss my cheek. “No rushing, Fred. I’ll be back in a week or two. We can talk about things then.”

He walks out before I can argue, and I feel the unpleasant ache of his absence immediately. My mind may be a web of confusion, but my body knows what it wants. Every part of it wishes I could be closer to him again.

I close the bakery door on the darkness of pre-dawn and start mixing the bread dough, so I’ll have something to work out my frustrations on.

10

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