He laughed out loud at the blush staining her cheeks. "And your ability to be flustered even at your age."
"I happen to be very young at heart." She retorted.
"That you are, my sweet." Tipping her chin up, he brushed his lips over hers, thrilled to feel the tremors.
That they could turn each other on at their age was a tremendous blessing, one he hoped and prayed they would never lose.
"It will work out."
"I know it will." She said stoutly. "We're here for him."
*****
She woke with the sun streaming through the drapes and onto her face. And her stomach roiling in hungry protest.
Before she opened her eyes, she knew that he was gone. Squelching the sudden disappointment, she told herself it was for the best.
Last night had felt too comfortable, as if he belonged in her bed.
Easing up on the pillows, she also ignored the lingering scent of his expensive cologne and the warmth he had left behind. She was about to get up when she saw the note in his precise handwriting. Folding the paper in two, she dropped it inside the drawer and made her way to the bathroom.
Peering into the mirror, she grimaced at the sight of her swollen eyes and tangled hair. She had dumped on him. Instead of going away as she expected or told herself she wanted, he had stayed and made her tray.
Turning away, she went to use the toilet and sat there in contemplation. Her childhood had been anything but normal. Her dad had been a deacon in church, and her mother sang on the choir.
The very first thing she noticed when she was a little girl was the regimented household and the fact that her parents never touched each other. They never touched her either.
Public and private displays of emotions had never been encouraged. She had been bewildered when she was shunned when she tried to hug them. And admonished when she cried or complained.
The only constant had been the fact that she had to attend church, that she had to memorize scriptures and prayer was something she dreaded, because it was always long and drawn out.
Her clothing had always been selected for her, long shapeless skirts and dresses, with collars covering her neck and throat.
She had gone through high school without dating or going anywhere. While her friends were going out and having fun, enjoying their childhood, she stayed home, either doing chores or attending church.
The rumors about her dad and the pastor's wife had circulated, causing them to leave the church. Rumors that had been strenuously denied by her parents.
Years later, when she was about to go to college, he was found dead from a sudden heart attack in a sleazy motel room with the same pastor's wife.
From that point on, Leanne decided that it was time to break free from the shackles and live her own life. That men were hypocrites and liars. Her upbringing had colored her thoughts and the way she dealt with people, especially the opposite sex.
She had had one relationship in college. In defiance to her strict upbringing, she had surrendered her virginity to her art professor. The relationship had lasted three months. As soon as he started talking about long-term, she had called it quits.
Rising, she flushed and went to wash her hands. Now she was stuck. Biting off a sigh, she dried her hands and stripped. It was time for a shower.
*****
"You're back." Hiding the surprised pleasure, she watched as he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up.
"I said I would in the note." His eyes scanned her face, relieved to see that she looked fresh and alert, the light in her mahogany eyes giving him hope.
"I brought food." He hefted the bag he had put down to take off his jacket. "Soup. Mostly vegetables. My mother made it."
"Oh." She eyed him for a few seconds before turning to go into the kitchen. "I had some breakfast which is staying. Fingers crossed." She lifted the fingers to show him.
"It smells delicious."
"One of her specialties."
