Just a Love Story Page 16

“I’m just laughing at myself,” Shae answered. “I can’t afford to take myself too seriously. A wise man once said that recognizing your own faults and being able to smile about them is a sign of maturity. After all, humor and humility come from the same root word.”

  “You’re right,” he said aloud, studying her beautiful face. She was also amazing, but he’d said too much already. “Give me another hour and we’ll head out. Okay?”

  “I’ll be ready.” Shae nodded and returned to the couch where she found Mojo snoring on a corner of the cushion. “Life is simple for you, boy. I’m jealous.” As she sat down to write, she considered her situation. If she could turn back time and not write the books, would she? Did she want to return to being defined as the good girl who blended into the woodwork of Longleaf and was only noticed when something needed to be done?

  The answer was no. As painful as this process had been, the world was opening up to her. Writing would be her profession for the rest of her life. The day would come when she would leave this area and move to a place where she could be accepted, or at least be tolerated. And who knows? Maybe she would find friends, even someone to love. With that thought, a smile bloomed on her face.

  What would it be like to be loved by someone like Derek? He was so passionate and he adored his daughter. To Shae that said a lot.

  Curled up on the blue chintz couch, she managed to write a few more pages and correspond with a few fans. To her delight, Jo Powers contacted her on private message, telling Shae what she liked about her most recent book. She also shared a photo with her, one she’d taken of them at the restaurant. As requested, Jo had not made Shae’s photo public on social media. She’d tried that a couple of times and the locals had left ugly, snarky comments. Better to exist behind the veil and only peep out occasionally.

  Hey, Jo. I love it. This is great! How are you?

  I’m good, Jessabelle. Ready for another read from you. How’s your friend Cathy? I thought about her the other day.

  I’m writing steadily, should have something for you in a few weeks. I haven’t seen Cathy in a while. Long story. What’s going on?

  Oh, a business deal. I remember her talking about the plant there in Longleaf and her husband needing a different job. Boring stuff. Not exciting like your books, Jess.

  Sensing Jo wasn’t ready to share more, she moved on from the topic.

  We’ll have to get together again soon. Pick a time and I’ll be glad to meet you. I have a proposition for you, Jo.

  LOL. Coming from you, Miss Erotic Romance writer, a proposition could mean most anything. FYI, I’m not really into threesomes.

  Ha! No, I need a beta reader. Someone who knows my books and my characters and can read new ones and watch for consistency and wardrobe malfunctions – ha!

  GREAT, Jessabelle! I’m your girl! I’d love to do that. Let me look at my calendar and I’ll send you a couple of dates to choose from. We’ll meet for lunch and talk. My treat this time!

  Perfect, thank you. I appreciate you very much.

  The conversation with Jo seemed to calm Shae down. She felt happy and connected.

  When Derek finished, he put away his tools and stood in the doorway, just watching her work. “Hey, pretty lady. Are you writing a steamy scene?”

  Shae glanced up, then wiggled at his question. “No, I was talking to one of my readers. I just asked her if she’d beta read for me.”

  “What does that mean?” He moved a little closer, sitting down on a chair near her.

  “In the writing world, it’s someone who reads your work to judge if its up to snuff, if it meshes with other books in a series…” She shrugged. “Jo has read all my books and she can tell if something is right or not.”

  “I see.” He nodded, studying her face. “I want to apologize again. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” She waved her hand. “I was enjoying your kiss so much. Your question just startled me, but the answer is yes. I do enjoy the sex scenes and thinking about being intimate with someone I care about.”

  Derek cleared his throat. “Well, pardon me for saying so…but, I never see men around. You don’t go out except to grocery shop or see your grandmother.”

  “No, you’re right. I don’t date much.” Much? Right. Shae was so embarrassed. How freakish that she didn’t date, much less have sex.

  Now, it was his turn to blush. “After reading those hot scenes, I can’t help but wonder where you get your…inspiration.”

  Shae covered her eyes, as if by doing so, he couldn’t see her. “I watch Cinemax late night and I fantasize.”

  Derek couldn’t help but grin. “How about toys? I bet you have an assortment of dildos and vibrators so vast that you have to keep them categorized by the Dewey Decimal system.”

  After her decision to not be offended by his reasonable assumptions, she flirted back with him. “My library of dildos, you mean?”

  “Yea.” He widened his eyes and smirked, as if the thought was an especially interesting one.

  “No, sorry to disappoint. I don’t have any sex toys. There are no adult shops within a hundred miles, and I wouldn’t put it past the clerk in the post office to check my packages for suspicious materials. They always seem to know who’s ordered what from where.”

  “Wow.” Derek shook his head. “Dang it. I was hoping I could check out that Dewey Decimalized array of dildos.”

  “You’re so funny.” Feeling her history buff side coming to the fore, she narrowed her gaze at him. “How much do you know about Dewey?”

  Derek shifted back in his chair and crossed one booted foot over his knee. “Dewey who?”

  “Why Melvil Dewey, founder of the Dewey Decimal system and establisher of the standard dimensions for catalog cards, that’s who.”

  “Seriously?” He laughed at her absurd aside.

  “Oh, he was serious about libraries, index-cards, and filing-cabinets. He also advocated spelling reform. He though words had too many redundant letters. To try and help his cause along, he insisted words be shortened on local restaurant menus and even changed the spelling of his name from the traditional spelling of Melville to a shorter version M-E-L-V-I-L.”

  “I guess it’s safe to say that fad didn’t catch on.”

  “No, sadly, it didn’t.”

  “He sounds like a character.”

  Shae giggled. “Oh, you have no idea. He had a lot of friends, but they got tired of coming to his defense. He couldn’t control himself around women.”

  “Ha! Sound like times haven’t changed.”

  “Well, he did things like require a photo of a woman if they were applying to his School of Library Economy at Columbia University.” She leaned closer to Derek and whispered. “It’s rumored that sharing their bust size was one of the ways he determined who was accepted and who wasn’t.”

  Derek busted out laughing. “He sounds like a hoot! How do you know these things?”

  She tapped her head. “Writer brain. I collect information. I can assure you Mr. Dewey will turn up in one my books sooner or later.”

  “I look forward to it.” In fact, he looked forward to a lot with Miss Shae. “I have a change of clothes in the truck. Would you mind if I freshen up before we go?”

  “Of course not. Use the bath in Coretta’s room, I mean the Master.”

  “Okay, thanks.” He stood, walked over to her, and held Shae’s gaze for a moment. “I need a kiss to keep me going. Do you have one to spare?”

  “I think so.” About a billion.

  “Good.” Derek dipped his head and kissed her soundly, his lips clinging to hers for a long, luscious moment. When he raised his head, she sighed. “That’s what I like to hear. Satisfaction.”

  “No, I’m not satisfied…yet,” she told him, her eyes big and wide.

  “Okay. I’ll take that as a personal challenge.” And knowing what she knew about sex, the task would be pleasurably daunting.

  “I’m sure you’re up for it.” Really, S
hae didn’t know where this newfound bravery was coming from – the same place her stories came from, she guessed.

  “You can count on it, doll.” Derek left the room before it was evident his cock was giving her a standing ovation.

  While Derek showered, Shae ran to do a little freshening up of her own. She spritzed some perfume, changed her panties, and applied a little makeup. Her hand was a bit shaky, knowing – and picturing – the man of her dreams naked in the next room. “Wow. Girl, you’re about to get the chance to live up to your reputation.”

  When she felt like she was presentable, Shae went to wait for him. She spent a few moments with her dog, made sure he was fed and walked, then sat on the couch to cuddle with him until Derek made an appearance. “Oh, you look nice. So sexy,” she told him spontaneously, taking in the jeans and crisp long-sleeve western shirt. “I have to tell you, I’d rather see a man in jeans and boots than a suit any day.”

  The compliment took him off guard. “Why, thank you!” He was used to telling Blair how nice she looked without a word of praise in return. “You always look lovely, Miss Shae. May I?” He held out his arm.

  “Yes, please.” She rose and clasped onto his strong bicep. “I’m hungry, how about you?”

  He let his eyes collide with hers. “Starving.”

  Shae trembled, realizing he wasn’t just referring to food.

  Once they were in his truck and traveling down the road out of town, Shae relaxed, letting out a long breath. “I had to curtail the urge to hide in the floorboard. I hope you don’t get in trouble for being seen with me.”

  Now, that he knew the truth about her, it made him bold. “How could it? None of these people know anything about me or my life.”

  “I hope so.” She stared at the crimson clover on the side of the road. “I’d hate to do anything to hurt you.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to seeing what Zane can tell me tomorrow about my case.”

  She turned as far sideways in her seat to look at him as the seatbelt would allow. “You’re trying to get full custody of June?”

  “I’d love that, but I’ll settle for joint.”

  Shae shook her head. “I don’t understand how a woman can keep such a good man as you from your child.”

  “Because my wife isn’t…” No, he wouldn’t lower himself to talk about Blair the way she talked about him. “Let’s just suffice to say that we’ve had our differences. She used to be jealous – for no reason, I was never unfaithful. Lately, she didn’t seem to care what I did or who I was with, she certainly showed no interest in being with me.”

  “I’m sorry. So sorry.” She put her hand on his arm. “If you belonged to me…” Shae pressed her lips together, stopping the flow of words. “Sorry, I shouldn’t presume to…”

  “No.” Derek felt his skin tingle. “Tell me how it would be if I were yours.”

  Shae shut her eyes, a bit flustered by the intimacy of their conversation. “There’s no recording devices in here or anything, is there?” Having a You-Tube video of herself talking about things like this was all she needed.

  Derek looked hurt. “Do you think I’d do that to you?” As soon as he voiced his concern, he realized how vulnerable she felt. “No, baby, I promise.” He held up his right hand. “I’d rather die than hurt you.”

  “Okay.” She felt better, then she closed her eyes and let herself dream. “If you were mine…”

  She let out a little moan that made him shiver from head to foot.

  “I don’t think I’d ever get enough of you. I’d love on you. Make you happy.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “Sleeping with you, holding you. I would be in heaven.”

  Her heartfelt response did something strange to him. He’d been expecting some explicit detail of how they would have sex, not the outpouring of an absolute ecstatic longing just to be with him. “I would be the luckiest man in the world.”

  His simple response gave Shae more confidence than she’d felt in a long time. “I’d be the lucky one. No doubt.”

  When she offered him her hand to hold, he accepted it and they continued the short drive that would lead across the river to Sabine Parish, Louisiana. Along the way, Shae made a suggestion. “Let’s play a game.”

  “Okay. What kind of game?” He was intrigued.

  “Either/or. You just have to choose. I’ll go first.” To his delight, she bounced in her seat. “A rainy Sunday in bed or a trip to the mall?”

  “A rainy Sunday in bed if it’s with you.” He winked at her, not saying that he didn’t much like going to the mall at any time.

  “PJ’s or nude?” he asked, really interested in her answer.

  “Um, you saw my gown. Boring, I know.” She crinkled her nose. “I do sleep in just a tee shirt occasionally.”

  “Good answer.” He didn’t really care what she wore to bed, he’d have her naked in no time.

  “Cremation or burial?”

  Derek laughed at the odd question. “Talk about a mood killer. Here I was thinking about you naked in my bed and you ask me about my funeral plans.”

  She giggled. “I guess I’ve taken part in so many memorial services and such that I think it’s a normal question.”

  “Okay. Okay. I’ll play along.” He thought a minute. “Green burial. Wrap me in a shroud and give me back to Mother Earth.”

  “Oh, I like that. I know cremation is the thing, but I still can’t get past the burning up part.” She blinked her eyes. “I’ve heard too many fire and brimstone messages from the pulpit to choose that route.”

  “I don’t know that I really believe in hell, but it makes sense to feel that way. My turn,” Derek murmured, getting into the spirit of things. “Cubed or crushed?”

  Feeling mischievous, she gave him a leading answer. “Cubed, I like to suck on things.”

  Derek groaned, “Damn. You’re not playing fair, baby.”

  “That’s the idea.” She playfully pinched the hard muscle of his thigh. “An easy one next. Paper or plastic?”

  He gave her a disbelieving shrug. “You know the answer to that. I’m from Austin. Paper.” Derek chewed on his lower lip. “Oh, I’ve got one. Wax or shave?”

  “Wax or shave what? My legs?”

  He shook his head in negative solemnity.

  She touched her upper lip. “Well, I don’t have any….” Seeing his face break out into a grin, it finally hit her. “Oh…that!” She blushed beet red. “Trim?”

  “Are you asking me? Or is that your answer?”

  “Yes, that’s it.” She tapped her lips. “Vanilla or chocolate?”

  “Hmmm.” He winked at her. “Chocolate, if I could lick it off you.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Stephen King or John Grisham?”

  Without missing a beat, he answered, “Neither. The author Jessabelle is my favorite.”

  “Aww.” He was so sweet.

  “Bikini or one piece?” he asked as he headed over the five-mile long bridge spanning Sam Rayburn Lake.

  “Oh, there’s no doubt of that one.” She laughed. “A one piece. Every time. I don’t have the body for a bikini.”

  “Are you kidding?” He couldn’t believe she felt that way. “You’ve got a killer body.”

  “Ha! No.” When he frowned, she threw a question at him. “Dom or sub tendencies in bed?”

  He gave her a look like she should know better than to even ask. “What do you think?”

  Shae giggled. “Yea, what was I thinking? Okay, my turn. Natural or breast implants?”

  Derek licked his lips. “No question. Natural.”

  “Whew. Good thing.”

  He laughed at her revelation. “Last question, we’re almost there.” With a suggestive leer, he wanted to know. “Missionary or doggy style?”

  Shae looked at him directly, perfectly serious. “Missionary…I think.”

  “Why?” He glanced at her with intensity, his mind already imagining how it would feel to be with her.

  “I think I wou
ld enjoy being face to face. Having you on top would make me feel safe.” Shae hesitated. “And I’ve read that when the man moves on top of you, it feels better when you rub my…”

  Derek almost ran off the road, her description was killing him. He repeated what she’d said in his mind, just loving the mental picture. I think I would enjoy you on top…I’ve read that when the man moves…you rub my… “Oh, my God!” It finally hit him. “You’ve never…?”

  “No.” Shae looked a little guilty. “Sorry. I hate to disappoint you – but I’m a virgin.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The unexpected revelation rocked Derek to the soles of his Justin boots.

  “I hate to disappoint you – but I’m a virgin.”

  Shae hugged herself and shut her eyes tight. “This probably wasn’t the best idea. If you want to turn around and take me back, that’s fine.”

  Derek heard her talking, but his mind was reeling from the fact that the spinner of the erotic tales he’d been reading had never been with a man.

  “I know you’re having a hard time believing me,” she hurriedly went on to add. “I wouldn’t believe me myself. In some ways I’ve led a very sheltered life, but I’ve always had this…other side of me, a curious side. The pastor would call it being hedonistic.” She glanced at him apologetically. “Seeking pleasure in life.” Shae shrugged, speaking fast as if trying to lessen the impact of her unfortunate declaration. “Pleasure is a wonderful thing – comfort, good food, good…sex. I think people get the word hedonist, a seeker of happiness, confused with a heathen.” She shook her head. “Or maybe its more related than I think. My pursuit of happiness has led me to question some long-held beliefs. I…”

  “Shae.” Derek turned into the parking lot of a locally owned restaurant.

  His saying her name and coming to a full stop didn’t hush her, she kept on with her rambling explanation.

  “I guess I have this weakness in me. In school, I was smart. The quintessential church girl. My family’s reputation in town made me untouchable in a way. I’ve only been on two dates, but I have this deep longing for more than just being alone. I think I’m the only person in church who reads the book in the Bible called the Song of Solomon and gets excited. You know, all the talk of breasts, bags of myrrh, and secret gardens can be invigorating. Most people skim over it. I’ve even heard it preached that the book is a love letter to God.” She giggled nervously. “But it’s more, I’ve read it in the original language and its shockingly, sublimely sensual. The Song of Songs is really just a poem about extravagant lovemaking, especially oral sex.”