CHAPTER 15
Sunlight beams filled the room, cajoling me from deep sleep to wakefulness. I stretched out and opened my eyes. It was a beautiful morning in Milan and the beds chirped loudly, affirming it.
Slipping out of bed, I marched to the bathroom still half asleep. I trailed my fingers down the path Richard's lips touched while the warm water from the shower poured on me. I smile mischievously to myself. I remembered the way he had looked at me expectantly while we were on the balcony. The way he confessed that he liked me. The way his lips felt on mine.
I climbed out of the shower and put on a linen shirt and cargo shorts. I had Abigail's sense of fashion in my subconsciousness when I picked the two-piece. Abigail! Oh no. I haven't thought of her since I got here or even reached out to her. I made a mental note to call her later.
I stared at myself in the mirror in the room. I looked different and felt different. The judgy voice in my head voices out. You've just been intimate with your best friend's dad. You blew off your cover for a man you'll have nothing to do with after a year and when trouble comes calling he wouldn't be there to save you.
ARE YOU RUNNING MAD? The voice shouted at me.
I grimaced as I looked in the mirror. I was going to have to process all this. Fancy, being with a man who likes me and would give me what I've always craved. I was afraid but most of all just lost in the moment. I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration.
I was starving so I headed for the kitchen but not after calling Abigail. She didn't answer, so I left her a heartfelt message about how sorry I was for not reaching out to her earlier, how I was doing, and my recent shopping escapades leaving out the details of my erotic adventure with Richard and plopped the phone into my pocket.
Humming to an unusual tone, I moved around the kitchen, bringing out the ingredients that I needed to make an omelet and bacon. Ever since I moved in with him, not once have I stepped foot in the kitchen to cook for myself not to talk of Richard himself. At first, it was because I was too shy to cook anything but later on, when I summoned the courage to make something, I wasn't allowed to. Spencer frowned greatly upon it. According to him, his master wouldn't be pleased.
At least here in Italy, Spencer wasn't here to chastise me and the cook seemed to have his day off today. Richard will finally eat something I made for him. This brought an exciting feeling to me.
I felt like a wife. OMG Marah, you are a wife! Richard Berlette's wife.
I grinned big time, and my thoughts drifted off to last night again. His confession, his touch, and the taste of his tongue.
While moving my body to my humming, I cracked open some eggs and whisked them, together with water, salt, and pepper. I turned to see Richard sitting in one of the barstools at the breakfast bar, leaning on it, his chin supported by his hands. He was wearing a black shirt and his hair glistened like he just got out of the shower. He looked both stunned and amused.
Overwhelmed, I stood frozen, then gathered myself. My knees were wobbly at the sight of him.
"Good morning, Marah. It's quite a sight seeing you cook," he said deadpan.
"I_i just wanted to make something for breakfast." I stuttered in my unwarranted explanation. His lips twitched briefly as if he was trying to mask a smile.
"Go on then."
"Are you hungry?"
"I am." He said with an intense look that made me second guess if he was actually referring to food.
"Omelette and bacon?"
"Sounds great. Would you like help with anything?"
"No, thank you." He stood up and came behind me, feeling the warmth of his presence, I smiled bashfully. He patted the small of my back gently. I stared down at my fingers, knowing that I was turning rosy. He left to open a drawer and took out plates for the food to be dished in.
I poured the mixed content into a pan, put the beacon under the grill, and waited for it to cook. When I turned around, there were two mugs and two glass cups on the table, and Richard making coffee.
"It's quite a sight seeing you brew coffee." I teased, mimicking what he had said earlier.
"For someone who takes it every day, I should be able to."
I served up the breakfast onto the plates and lay them on the table. I rummaged through the fridge and brought out a jug of orange juice. I glanced up at Richard who was waiting for me to sit down.
"Marah." He motioned to one of the barstools.
"Richard." I bobbed in acknowledgment and climbed up to sit.
"I'm surprised you aren't hung over. You had a lot to drink yesterday." He asked as I sat down. My skin flushed.
"I'm surprised you aren't." I retorted. "In fact, it's more surprising that you aren't considering your… you know." I didn't want to point out that he was older, so it wouldn't seem like I was age-shaming him because that would be the last thing I ever wanted to do or imply. He doesn't take it to heart, he was trying to stifle a smile.
"You are right, that's more surprising. I must have some superpowers."
I bust out laughing, my hand over my mouth to muffle the laughter. "Superpowers huh."
"This is delicious. The best omelet I've ever had." He grinned at me. I wasn't sure if he was teasing me or not.
"The best omelet," I said, expressionless. "With your culinary palate? Don't ease me, Richard."
"It's the best because it was made by my wife."
The somersaults couldn't compare to the fireworks going off in my stomach right now. His calling me his wife out loud just made everything right in the world. My world. I tucked my hair behind my ear at both sides and rested my hands on my cheeks to hide my blush.
I tried a forkful of omelet, its flavor settled in my tongue as I chewed. It tasted good.
"The way you chew, it's very distracting."
I stared at him dumbfounded as I stopped breathing and my chest contracted. The way I chew distracted him? We were somewhat similar because I also liked the way he chewed. Not like I found it distracting or anything.
"What's distracting about it?" I inquired as I took a sip of my coffee. He knew how to make good coffee. What was he not good at?
"It makes me want to do things with that mouth of yours." I choked on the coffee and I gaped at him, eyes wide. He patted me gently on the back and passed me a glass of orange juice. What did he mean by that? I couldn't tell what he was thinking.
"That's if you let me." He added, I peered up at him, trying to recover my senses. His expression had a glint of amusement. What had come over this man? Was he always this vulgar? He was like a different person entirely.
Or this is how he is and now he has a chance to be himself with you. My little voice of reasoning voiced out.
"I'll have to know what it entails," I uttered, my voice slightly too high, betraying my attempt to sound cool, calm, and collected, with my hormones wreaking havoc through my body.
"I'll let you in on it but first, I want to take you out on a proper date."
"What do you call the outing of yesterday?"
"Catching up with an old friend."
"It was a date nonetheless." I insisted.
"Alright, alright, it was a date. There will be another this evening."
"You are suddenly not busy anymore."
"I still am, but I have a schedule and I want to make this honeymoon of ours worthwhile." He paused, watching me intently. "I have another confession."
I broke into a smile. "Oh yeah, let's have it."
"I like spending time with you."
My heart throbbed with happiness. "You came to that conclusion yesterday?"
"No, I am happy whenever you are near."
"At this point, I think you are on a mission to woo me."
"Is it working?"
"I am not sure yet. Let's wait and see."
Oh, it was definitely working, he has had me giggling, feeling fuzzy, and all which is rather unusual. I couldn't control the emotions that bust through me and when my heart fluttered or when my insides bustled with happiness.
Finishing his breakfast, he sat waiting for me to be done with mine and then he cleared my plate.
My cell phone rang interrupting my reverie and j reached for it inside my pocket. It was Abigail.
"It's Abigail," I announced, letting him know who was calling. He nodded briefly.
"Hi Abigail, sorry for not calling earlier."
"You better be, you've been hoarding that man all to yourself that he hardly calls me." Her tone walked in the line of anger and sarcasm. I couldn't tell which.
"In my defense, you didn't reach out either."
"I didn't reach out to any of you. I didn't want to pester the newlyweds with calls." I rolled my eyes at the magnification. Abigail never failed to do that at any given point
"Pester? Aren't you exaggerating this?"
"That's what it would look like."
"You can't pester your dad with calls. He is your dad." Richard raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Whatever, I'll call him when I need to. Soooooo," I could hear the hint of amusement in her voice. "You went shopping huh? It took my dad to convince you. You are such a sly."
"Abigail please, I didn't have luggage, would you rather I walk around naked?"
"Fair enough. I saw a picture of you and my dad online."
"The wedding pictures?"
"No, it looked like an art gallery."
"Oh, that made it online."
"Yeah, what were you expecting?"
"Nothing, to be honest."
"Alright, I'm at the office and I have to go now. Later."
"Later." I hung up.
I turned to watch Richard move dexterously around the kitchen. "You haven't reached out to Abigail. Why?"
"What did she say?"
"She said you've hardly called her."
"Her definition of hardly calling her is, me, skipping a day. You know how she exaggerates things"
"You are right," I said, nodding in agreement.
My thought skimmed to the date he had mentioned. What was his own definition of a proper date? I hope he wouldn't be taking me to one of those socialite events that cripple my confidence. I wasn't ready for that yet. I didn't know when I'd be but certainly not now.
"Can I ask a question?
"Sure, what is it?" he sauntered toward me until he was standing in front of me.
"You aren't taking me to one of those social events, are you?
"No. At least not today, why do you ask?" he inquired, raising his hand, and running his fingers gently down my cheek down to my chin
"I was just curious." my voice came out in a whisper.
"I promise you'll have a wonderful time." He tilted my chin up so I was looking up to him and then he leaped down and kissed me. I kissed him back with fervor. The anxiety in my veins was overpowered by the instantaneous desire that rippled through every part of my body. I was drowning in him, desperate for elation in the sea of my desire for him.
His hand left my chin and moved down to my waist. I let my hand travel to the hair behind his ears, dragging my nails across his scalp. He nipped at my upper lip and then my lower lip before sucking my tongue into his mouth. My knees grew weak and I tightened my grip on the back of his neck for support. Something heavy settled in my chest, impeding my lungs from the little remaining breathing room.
My heart pounded with happiness and pleasure.