Macy’s Awakening (8 page)

She giggled to herself. Oh yeah, Leticia would totally freak out when Macy told her what she and Jerrod had done in his kitchen this morning. She remembered hearing Leticia talk about boys
going down
on her. It had never sounded like something she would want to try. But Jerrod had known exactly how to use his tongue to tease and arouse her. She had to admit it really had felt wonderful.

And he’d told her she was beautiful down there too. That was a whole new idea, that a man might
want
to put his mouth on her. Macy lay back on the bed remembering, allowing herself to recall every stroke of his tongue, every suckle of his lips. Her eyes drifted closed as her body grew warm with desire. Experimentally, she put her hands on her breasts and pinched her nipples through the t-shirt and bra she wore. It felt good, but not the same as when Jerrod did it to her.

Then she put her hand on the crotch of her shorts. She was still a little sore, but mostly she felt kind of swollen and damp there. The more she thought about Jerrod’s mouth on her, the more keyed up she felt. She moved her finger back and forth on the taut fabric, wiggling her hips a bit as she did so. She’d attempted to masturbate a few times in the past, but she’d never felt comfortable doing it with her father in the next bedroom. She didn’t really think it was wrong—Leticia swore just about everyone masturbated—but the opportunity to practice had simply never presented itself.

She began to swirl her finger around and around, passing it over that sensitive part Jerrod had sucked on that morning. A moan broke from her throat. Even through two layers of fabric, she could feel the pleasant twinges, the special sensations beginning to build. Did she dare to take her clothes off and touch herself—naked?

* * * *

Jerrod looked at his watch for perhaps the fortieth time. He closed the magazine he was staring at and set it aside, then stood up and paced to the window that looked out on the back yard. Still no Macy. The afternoon had cooled and dusk was beginning to gather. The timer had tripped the little lights that lined the pathway to the stairs leading up to her door.

He’d made dinner salads for them both, big concoctions of greens and chopped eggs and ham and tomatoes and slivered almonds. They waited in the fridge under plastic wrap, next to the fresh bottle of ranch dressing.

In the past year he’d gone from a guy who could barely open a can of soup to somewhat of a gourmet cook. While his repertoire of special dishes was limited, he took great pride in the small touches like sauces and dressings made from his own recipes. He was master of the barbeque and salad bar. Arlene would be amazed to know how rarely he went out to eat any more.

Restless, he crossed the room and turned on the floor lamp by the couch. He really had expected to see the girl before now. What could she be doing up there all afternoon on her own?

And what about Chuck?

All day he’d warred with himself, knowing the man must be going nuts with worry, but unwilling to put Macy on the spot by getting Chuck on the phone without her permission. What was he supposed to say about why
she
wasn’t the one calling him back?

No, it was better to have her call him later and make up some excuse about them being out for the day. Yeah, it was pretty lame, but he couldn’t come up with anything better.

A flicker caught his eye, a dark moving shadow breaking the soft rays from the pathway lights. It might only be Peter. But just in case, he flopped down in the nearest chair and grabbed the TV remote, flicking it on. Pretending interest in the home improvement show that lit up the screen, he listened for the doorknob to turn.

She crept in and closed the door quietly behind her, then stood not moving, half in shadow. He couldn’t see her face, so he had no idea what was going on with her.

He tried for a light tone. “Hi. How was your day?”

“Fine,” she said, taking a step into the room.

“Do you want dinner? I made big salads for us.”

“Oh. You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble.”

“No trouble. I was already making one for myself. Hungry?”

“A little.”

He walked past her without making eye contact and went into the kitchen.

“Shall we eat outside?” he called.

“Okay.”

They settled in chairs separated by several feet of patio and the glass-topped café table. He set her plate on the table along with the bottle of dressing.

“Ranch okay?”

She smiled up at him. “Yes, thanks.”

He lit a couple of tiki torches to keep the mosquitoes at bay. They threw just enough warm, flickering light to add a golden glow to her face. He tried not to stare. She’d put on coral lipstick, and her eyes looked especially big and lovely. She was wearing the yellow sundress again. For a moment he thought she had dressed up specifically for him. Then he remembered that she only had a few articles of clothing with her in that suitcase. Her choices were no doubt limited. It wasn’t as if she had put on the dress to entice him.

But her slim legs and ankles, her beautiful bare shoulders made his groin ache.

Thank God tomorrow was Monday. Business as usual. He’d be safe at his downtown office on the twenty-third floor. He’d call Jeff and see what progress he’d made in checking out the jewelry store heist, see if maybe the police had a suspect in custody yet. The sooner this mess got cleared up and Macy was on her way home, the better it would be for everyone.

They ate in silence with the sounds of the patio fountain and the television droning in the background. Finally, as he wiped the last of the dressing from his plate with a piece of bread, he decided he needed to address things head-on.

“I think you should probably call your dad back tonight before it gets any later.”

She sighed and put her fork down. “Yes. I suppose so.”

“You can tell him we were out for the day and just got his message.”

“Okay.” She frowned. “Where should I tell him we were?”

“How about shopping? Lord knows you’re going to need a few more clothes to last you until the trial. I was actually thinking I’d take you shopping this week, so you won’t need to wear that dress so often.”

She glanced down at herself, her hand brushing her bodice. “I
like
this dress. I don’t mind wearing it. But yeah, I guess I could use a few things. Another pair of jeans, a couple of tops. Some underwear…” Her voice trailed off.

“And you’ll need some conservative dress clothes for the trial. I know just the place. We’ll hit the West Slope Mall tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you.”

He went into the house and grabbed the phone and brought it out to her. He carried her empty plate back in with him, closing the door to give her privacy.

In just five minutes she came into the kitchen and handed him the phone.

“He wants to talk to you,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Jerrod’s gut seized up like someone had just punched him there. What had Macy told her father? Certainly she hadn’t given them away? He took a deep breath and steadied himself. Time to face the music.

“Chuck! Sorry we weren’t here when you called this morning. Did Macy tell you we were out shopping?”

“Yes, she told me. She also told me you’ve gone out of your way to make her feel at home. I wanted to tell you again how grateful I am for everything you’re doing for us.”

“Anything for a fellow Sigma Chi.” He forced a chuckle. He felt a strong twinge of guilt, mixed with intense relief that she hadn’t decided to confess her “sins.”

“I told you my baby girl means everything to me, man. It’s great to know I can count on you to take care of her.”

“She’s a lovely girl, Chuck. You must be very proud.”

“Damn right I am. Damn right. I hope she’s not giving you any trouble. The girl has a mouth on her sometimes.”

Jerrod drew back and stared at the receiver. It was almost impossible to imagine Macy being disrespectful.

“She’s no trouble at all,” he told Chuck. “We’re getting along fine here.”

“Any chance the judge will ease up and let her come home before her trial?”

“Sorry. Judge Hensen is known for being a hard ass. Macy will have to stay put here. But you’re welcome to come up if you can get away. I have another guest room. I know she’d love to have you here.”

“Wish I could. But I’m still working on that big project I told you about. I need to bring it in on time and under budget. I’m working my crew six days a week. Taking Friday off already put me behind. One day away and the guys slack off, you know?”

“Well, if you change your mind just come on up. You have my address, right?”

“You’re in the book.”

“Yep.”

Jerrod hung up the phone, relief flooding him, and turned to the sink to wash up the salad plates and forks. Not realizing that Macy still waited near the kitchen door, he jumped in surprise when she spoke.

“Thank you, Jerrod.”

He turned and frowned at her. “For what? Your dad will get a bill for my legal services, just like any other client.”

“No. I mean thank you for not telling on me.”

He suppressed the desire to laugh hysterically. She really was an innocent.

“Why in hell would I do that? You weren’t exactly the only one involved. I’m the grown up here, the one who should have all the self-control. Your dad would kill me.”

“He’d kill me first.” She gave a little giggle. “But you’re right. He’d kill you right after that.”

They shared a genuine smile and Jerrod felt the pall between them beginning to lift. They were on the same page again. They could make this platonic relationship work for the next few weeks until her trial. He just had to remember the sincere gratitude in Chuck’s voice—and the fact that the man was a former All-American football tackle with shoulders a mile wide and hams for fists.

Chapter 8

Jerrod carried two bowls of popcorn into the family room where Macy sat on the far end of the couch, studying the on-screen movie menu.

“How about
Avatar
? Have you seen it?” she asked as he handed her a bowl.

“Just once, in the theaters. I’d be up for seeing it again.”

“Great.”

She made the selection and sat back, her eyes steady on the large screen. The movie began, the oversized images dancing in the dark room, throwing colors and light into the corners and all over Macy herself. He watched her fondly from the corner of his eye, trying not to notice the long stretch of bare calf and thigh. She insisted on wearing those old shorts around the house, and a snug pink t-shirt that hugged her breasts. Maybe she didn’t realize how delicious she looked, like something made of cream and cocoa with raspberry garnish.

It had been three weeks since Chuck’s Sunday morning call, and—true to his word—Jerrod had managed to keep things totally on the up-and-up with her. Though it had been a little awkward at first, they’d settled into a routine of sorts, with him going to the office early every morning and coming home early in the afternoon on days when he didn’t have to be in court. He brought his files with him, and kept in touch with Verna, his assistant, via fax, text, and email. Sometimes he ended up working late into the night in order to have time with Macy in the afternoons and evenings.

They’d done just about all the tourist attractions the Portland metro area offered—the art museum, forestry center, museum of science and industry, Pioneer Square, and the paddle-wheel dinner cruise boats that plied the Willamette River. They checked out Saturday Market twice, Pittock Mansion, and the Zoo, not to mention several shopping malls. It had been great to reconnect with his city again, in a personal way he hadn’t since Allie was a little girl.

It was a departure for him to put less emphasis on his legal cases. Oh, he was still giving them his full attention, but he’d gotten better about juggling his schedule and his personal energy so that he and Macy always at least had dinner together. And he’d even turned down a couple of cases in order to retain some flexibility in his day. Arlene’s biggest complaint had always been that he put his work first. It had come as a shock to Jerrod how easily he could prioritize his personal life now that he was coming home to Macy.

Although they weren’t having sex, they’d come to form a close bond that fell outside standard definitions. They were friends, but more. And yet the age difference often made it feel like a father-daughter relationship, or perhaps student and teacher. Sometimes it wasn’t clear which one of them was the student and which the teacher.

The girl had a unique perspective on life that refreshed him. She wasn’t frivolous or giggly, like lots of young women he’d met, but she was
open
to life in a way he’d forgotten how to be. She noticed everything and shared her observations joyfully with him—rainbows caught in dew on the grass, a tiny bird’s nest lined with feathers, even the melody in Peter’s rumbling purr.

But she wasn’t a Pollyanna either. In fact they’d had several lively debates on a range of topics from politics to the humane treatment of farm animals. That she could hold her own in a discussion with someone twice her age impressed him to no end.

The longer she stayed with him, the more his own perspective began a gradual shift from tired and cynical to something more hopeful, more alive.

Yes, that was it. He definitely felt more alive with Macy in his house.

He watched her now as she lost herself in the movie, her fingers covering her mouth as the story took a dramatic turn. Peter had wandered in and claimed the spot next to her on the couch, a new habit of his. Apparently just as charmed by Macy as Jerrod was, the cat had gone from aloof loner to faithful pet in the last three weeks. Peter had even included Jerrod in the expanded circle of his good will.

So, if he’d come to admire her immensely and treasure the time they spent together, how did
Macy
think of
him
?

As a friend, a mentor? Or had she relegated him to more of her father’s contemporary, just a stuffy older guy she had to hang out with and depend upon for legal representation?

How about as
lover
? Did she ever think back to that at all?