The Suit (6 page)

Hours after Edie leaves, Joey releases me and I head back up to the house. I plop down at the kitchen table, cursing to myself because there is apparently no internet for me to hook my laptop up to. Figures. I shouldn’t be surprised. As I stare out the window across the kitchen that holds a view to the backside of the farm, my eyes catch t
he book Edie was reading when I walked in the kitchen this morning.

Picking it up I gaze at the cover,
My Lover’s Love
. What a stupid fucking name. The cover has some guy with like sixty abs holding a woman half-naked.
So fucking cheesy.
So lost in my own distaste, I don’t realize I’ve opened the book and began reading.

His mouth rounded one perfect hard nipple and Anna moaned his name, “Phillip.” Phillip wanted to take his time worshipping Anna’s body. Kiss every perfect curve, lick every square inch, but when she kneeled before him and wrapped her perfect lush lips around his cock, the only thing he could think about at that moment was how good it was going to feel when he came in her mouth.

I scratch my head in shock. Shit, this sounds kind of interesting.

Anna’s head bobbed up and down as her tongue swirled Phillip’s length, her hand fisting his shaft. He could feel the head of his dick hitting the back of her throat and knew it would only be a matter of seconds before his orgasm burst into her beautiful, hot mouth.

“Ahem.” As if the book is on fire and has burned me, I fling it away at the sound of someone clearing their throat. I spin around and see Edie standing behind me with a paper bag full of groceries, her eyebrows raised as she stares at me, her perfect lips curved into a half-smile. “You should narrate. You’ve got the voice for it.”

If my dick could introvert right now, it would. I was reading out loud and she busted me. All right John, play it cool. “So, you’re really into this kind of literature?” I ask casually as I round the island and pick up the book from the floor where I tossed it.

Edie saunters in, the same
I just caught you red-handed
smile still dancing on her lips and slides the bag on the counter near the fridge. “Yes,” she answers simply.

“Why do girls like this? You know, cheesy sex books?” I lean on the island and watch as she begins placing the items from the bag into the fridge. My eyes inevitably watch her ass the entire time. Her little hot pink panties are playing peekaboo from under her jeans, taunting me, as she moves.

“Why do guys like cheesy porn?” she counters as she shuts the fridge and whips open a cabinet door. I can’t tell if my questions are making her uncomfortable, but she seems like this conversation doesn’t bother her.

“Porn is different than that.” I nod at the book.

“How so?” This time she spins around and leans against the counter so she can watch me answer.

“You can see it. Naked bodies and such.” I shrug.

“Hmm,” she mumbles and turns back to the grocery bag. “Porn gives you an image. You only see what they want you to see. Books let you fill in the blanks, make it what you want. Books give you the idea of fantasy, but you get to perfect the lover in your mind. In porn we watch them touch one another, in a book, with your imagination, it’s like they’re touching you.”

Her answer is so in depth and honest, it takes me a moment to respond. “So, you use these books to…” I stop myself. What the fuck am I asking her? I just met this girl. My mother would roll over in her grave if she could see me now. You can’t ask a girl, let alone a farm girl, if she masturbates to her erotica books. Edie chuckles and glances at me over her shoulder. “Suit.” She says my nickname I’m less than thrilled about. “I’m a twenty-three-year-old farm girl with no boyfriend living in the country. Not that it’s any of your business, but yes. Sometimes it leads to that.”

My dick twitches with excitement.
She masturbates
. Sweet mother of Jesus, I’ll never get that fucking image out of my head. I wonder if she has a vibrator or if she—

“So listen,” she interrupts my journey on the highway to hell thinking about her pleasuring herself. “I know we got off to a rocky start, but I’d like to start over. I have a feeling maybe being here isn’t your cup of tea and I thought maybe we could at least be friends.”

She’s staring at me with those big brown eyes and I can see she’s genuine. I may hate the farm life, but the people are all around good folks. And that’s what she is. Good. “I’d like that, Edie and I appreciate your hospitality.”

“It’s almost six now. I usually do a stall check and fill grain buckets around this time before I come in and clean up for the night.”

“Sounds good.”

Once
we’ve checked on everything, we head back in and clean up. After I’ve showered and dressed, I find Edie in the kitchen and my mouth goes dry at the sight of her. I should know better than to stare, but I can’t help myself as her hips sway back and forth to
Stir It Up
by Bob Marley. As the beat drones on, she moves her body in perfect rhythm unaware her unwanted roommate is staring at her all while fighting a hard on. Her worn out jeans with several frayed holes hang low on her hips and her tank top is just short enough to expose a small glimpse of her toned midsection. Minutes pass and I’m frozen, entranced by her body as it moves languidly. She begins pulling out vegetables, chicken, and other ingredients for dinner all while dancing. Opening a cabinet, she stretches as she reaches for a box of rice, but it’s just out of her reach. I’m behind her before I realize I’m doing it, my body pressed to her backside. She gasps at the contact and immediately tenses, but relaxes when she sees it’s only me and that I’m trying to help her. When I pull the box she was reaching for down, I slowly back away, my body aching with want from just that small contact.

“Here.”
I smirk, placing the box on the counter.

“Thank you.” She smiles tightly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I noticed,” I tease.

Turning down the music she begin
s prepping our meal. “How long have you been in here?”

“
Long enough,” I answer honestly as I let my eyes run up and down her body. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.

Edie clears her throat and changes the subject. “You like Bob Marley?”
When I tell her that I do, she explains to me as we dice vegetables for a salad that she likes a little bit of everything. I know what she means because I’m the same way.

When we sit down for dinner, she pours us each a glass of wine and we have a surprisingly nice conversation.

“Tell me about yourself, Johnny Wilson.”

I arch a brow in surprise.
She knows my real name is Johnny.

Reading my expression, she adds, “It was in the letter my grandfather left for me.” She smiles faintly before sipping her wine.

“No one calls me that anymore,” I murmur as I grimace.

“Why not?” It’s a fair question.

The real answer is it belongs to a guy who existed in a different life, but I can’t tell her that. “Not a name people take seriously,” I answer, running as far from the truth as I can.

“I like it.” She shrugs.

“More than calling me suit?” I jest and sip my wine.

“You’re right. It is rude of me to call you that and I’m sorry. But now it’s kind of stuck. I’ll tell you what. You choose. I’ll either call you Johnny or Suit. Your choice.”

“Seriously? Can’t you just call me John?”

“I have laid out the terms I’m willing to abide by,” she smirks.

“Suit, it is.” I nod in acceptance. I don’t want to be called Johnny ever again.

“Very well. So, what else? I don’t know anything other than your name and your occupation.”

“What would you like to know?” I ask as I cut into my chicken.

“How did you manage to get the summer off to come here? I thought law students would be interning right about now.”

“Actually, most grads take the summer off after they graduate to study for the Bar. So when I’m not working for you, I’ll be studying my ass off.”

“You haven’t passed the Bar?” she questions suspiciously.

“No, not yet. I take the exam in July. That’s why I’m a Juris Doctor, not an attorney. I have a doctoral degree in law. Once I pass the exam, that’s when I can work as an attorney.”

“How did you make my grandfather’s will if you haven’t passed the Bar?”

“I didn’t draw up the will. I assisted the attorney back in Raleigh, as per Bud’s request. I told you this before,” I tease.

“Seems odd he’d have asked you to help him with this when he already had an attorney here in Holly Springs,” she notes before sipping her wine.

“I guess he had his reasons,” I offer. I know this seems strange to her and she wants to know what my business was with her grandfather, but I’ll never tell. And truthfully, I still don’t understand why Bud wanted me to spend the summer here instead of just reimbursing him.

“Do you have a job lined up after you pass?” she asks after she dabs her mouth with her napkin.

“Two interviews. One in Raleigh and one in New York.” I answer eagerly, relieved by the change in subject.

“New York. Wow. Which one are you hoping for?” It only takes a glance from me and she nods. “New York,” she says knowingly.

“What else would you like to know?”

“Umm…where are you from?”

“Raleigh. Have you always lived here?” I attempt to shift the topic to her. I don’t want her to start asking about specifics.

She’s just taken a bite of food when I ask so she chews quickly before answering, “I was born in Memphis, but my mother died when
I was eleven. I never met my father. Daddy Bud took me in and I’ve been here ever since.”

I knew her mother had died. Bud told me this long ago when we worked on his will, but it’s hard to watch her explain it. Her eyes flicker with pain as she explains. I see my own hurt in her eyes. We may be very different in many ways, but here we have common ground. I know what it’s like to lose everyone you love. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Daddy Bud gave me a really great life. I’ll always be grateful to him for that.”

“You’ve never wanted to meet your father?” I question and I instantly know I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my business, but I see a young woman who seems to have no family and I want to know why.

Edie sips her wine and looks down for a moment. “My mother and grandfather became estranged after she met my father. Daddy Bud didn’t care for him and my mother ran away before she graduated high school to be with him. When she got pregnant he left, and my mother was too prideful to come back here. Daddy Bud didn’t even know I existed until she died and child protection services contacted him.” Her gaze darts to mine briefly before she goes back to cutting her chicken.

“It must’ve been scary moving here to live with a man you’d never met.”

She smiles softly and says, “It was at first. I missed my mother terribly, but Daddy Bud was patient with me. I was angry and hateful when I first came here. My mother moved us around a lot. We were poor and she kind of moved from guy to guy a lot, too.” She pauses for a moment before she continues, “When I got here I wondered how long Daddy Bud would keep me before he shipped me off. But when he took me out to the horses and taught me to ride, showed me his love for this farm, I changed.” Smiling, she adds, “He told me this was ours, this land, these horses. He said I belonged here and I never had to worry about moving again. He said home is a place where love resides and rests easy. And he said, I was home.” Her eyes well with tears and she wipes under them quickly. “Sorry.”