Page 26 of Reading Between the Lines
“I’ll take all I can get.”
But it wasn’t fair when I gave so little. So, to test myself, to prove I wasn’t completely inept and had made strides in the past six weeks, I put pressure on his lower back and encouraged him to move against my chest. He went willingly, and I wrapped him in my arms, burying my nose in his hair. I inhaled peace and serenity. Hope. He likely felt the inner tremble rocking me off balance, but he didn’t mention it.
Nuzzling his face into my chest, he whispered, “I feel safe with you, D. I know you would never hurt me.”
“I’d rather die.”
7
Tallus
We pulled into the Mandels’ driveway at three. The house was in an older, wealthier part of Port Hope. No new-builds in the neighborhood, but every homestead was easily worth a few million dollars, even dated. The Mandels seemed to have done recent renovations, and they stood out. Set back on a large property, the three-story monstrosity boasted clean siding, freshly painted trim, new windows, and shingles that didn’t look like they had seen a single winter thus far. The fresh lumber on the oversized wraparound porch told me it had likely been built this past summer, too. The three-car attached garage seemed to be the only exterior feature that was original.
The path leading from the driveway to the porch consisted of interlocking stones. Garden boxes featuring dormant perennials lined the passageway on either side. His and hers SUVs occupied the driveway, and although I couldn’t accurately tag when they were manufactured, I guessed neither was more than two orthree years old. Why they weren’t parked in the garage was a mystery.
Giant deciduous trees hung bare branches over the house and stretched spindly arms to the gray sky overhead.
Bouncing on my toes, I tucked my shoulders near my ears as we looked around. The wind cut painfully across my cheeks.
“You need a warmer coat,” Diem said as we wandered the path to the house.
“I’m not cold.”
“You’re shivering.”
“Pure nervous energy. I promise. Cross my heart.”
“Your lips are blue.”
“It was all that kissing back at the B&B. It’s a form of blue balls. They’re presently aching to do more… like suck your cock.”
Diem’s deadpan expression was spoiled by the twitch in the corner of his lips.
“I saw that. Why are you against smiling, Guns?”
“Why are you against dressing for the weather?”
“You show me a winter coat that doesn’t sacrifice fashion, and I’ll buy it.”
I wouldn’t. My days usually consisted of traveling from my warm apartment to my heated vehicle into a sweltering hot office. I didn’t spend enough time outdoors to warrant the expense of a winter coat. That shit was beyond my budget.
“You could at least wear a hat.”
I guffawed. “And ruin my hair? You’re not wearing a hat.”
“My lips aren’t blue.”
“And that makes my cock very sad.”
Diem grumbled under his breath. The poor guy always stumbled to keep up with my wit.
At the front door, I rang the bell as Diem sized up the property, avoiding eye contact and any more comments about the temperature and my unsuitable clothing choices. I could tellour brief exchange back at the B&B was still ripe on his mind. Diem floundered through intimate exchanges, always needing his hand held. I sensed he wasn’t done berating himself for his stumbling effort when he should have been congratulating himself for taking a step forward without prompting.
Diem was his own worst enemy, and he needed to get out of his own way if we were ever going to get past this obstacle of showing affection.
No matter how much reassurance I provided, a tiny voice in the back of Diem’s head persistently told him he wasn’t good enough.
The door opened a moment later, revealing a scowling man in business attire. He took one look at us and swore under his breath. “Goddammit. I told that fucking woman to let this go. Delaney,” he shouted into the house. To us, he said, “You’re wasting your time.”
