The Edge Page 2
“Good to see you. And thanks. How’s Mom doing? And how long have you been working here?”
“Your mom isn’t getting enough sleep or food. I can’t force her like my mom would have been able to do. I’ve been here for about a year after my mom passed.”
She squeezed Sissy’s arm. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. I can take your bags up to the room for you if you’d like.”
“Thanks.” She headed up the stairs after and Sissy waited there until the clacking of her heels faded. Only then did she start for the bags, grab each one by the handles and pick them up. Cripes, these are heavy. At least one is.
Each child had their own room and she knew the others should be arriving later in the day. She put Jennifer’s bag in hers then carried Joseph’s to his and hesitated a moment before entering.
She’d just made the double bed that morning with fresh linens, as she’d done the rest of the rooms. Less for Mrs. Meyers to do and giving her more moments with her husband. Sissy set down the bag near the foot of the bed and turned to leave when she drew up short. Joseph stood in the doorway, staring at her. His expression seemed confused, almost as if seeing her for the first time.
“Excuse me, Mr. Meyers, I’ll just get out of your way.” She’d nearly called him Joseph, which was inappropriate now.
“Thanks for bringing that up here. Where’s Mrs. Edwin?” He narrowed his gaze. “Do we know each other?”
Christ, we grew up together. I was practically raised in this house given the number of hours my mom worked here. And now you don’t even know who I am? Well, it certainly tells me he’s not been having dreams about me, nor does he remember we’ve been naked with each other and fucked.
“Mrs. Edwin no longer works here. I’m the new housekeeper.” She pasted a smile on her face. “Excuse me.” Doing her best to avoid any contact with his hard body, she edged by him and down the stairs.
Back in the kitchen, she fought to keep from swearing. How was it he no longer knew who she was? Hell, even Jennifer remembers me and she’s been gone for a lot longer than he has been.
The rest of the day went by in a blur of activity. The remaining two siblings had shown up and she’d served them supper precisely at six, then as they’d walked out of the dining room, she’d gotten to work on clean up. She’d just finished the final bit, dropping the rag over the sink divider, when a prickle ran up the back of her neck.
Turning slowly, she sucked in a sharp breath at finding Joseph standing there. Somehow wishing she had something to hold almost like a barrier between them, she gave him a small smile. “I was just about to head out. Can I fix you anything before I go?”
He didn’t speak, just walked toward her, eyes locked on hers. Her insides were doing the funky chicken. She waited for him to say what he was doing in here or what he required of her.
I wouldn’t be averse to him taking me to his bed. I would love one more night with him. Not at all what she needed to recall. Their one night of drunken mishaps while they’d been in high school shouldn’t be her focus. It should be not to look or sound like an idiot.
He wasn’t slowing and so she backed up until the sink forbad her going anywhere else. Blocked in, she inhaled and tried not to groan as his scent fell around her. He shouldn’t smell so good.
“You didn’t tell me who you were when I came in, Sissy. Why not?” That intense blue stare never wavered.
“Wasn’t important?” She eyed the clock behind him. She had to get going.
“Nor did you tell me your mother died. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I hate to be rude, Mr. Meyers, but if there’s nothing you need from me, I must get going.”
“Call me Joseph. Mr. Meyers is my father.”
She called him that every time he invaded her dreams. Actually, she called him Joe. “Joseph.”
He dipped his head. “Wasn’t too hard, was it?”
“No, sir. Have a good night.” For the second time that day, she edged around him and struck out to the front door.
“Why don’t you stay here?”
“I have to get home to my son.” That said, she exited the warm house and headed out into the snowy night and her colder car.
Chapter Three
Joe stood in the room where his father clung to life. The beeping was the only noise aside from his footsteps as he paced back and forth before the window. Outside, the snow continued to fall. At least right now they weren’t too worried about the harvest. Everything was done until spring. Still didn’t change the fact the farm was barely holding on and that his old man had suffered a stroke, leaving him incapable of working at all.
Sure, his father was stable and they predicted a recovery. What kind they wouldn’t say, but a recovery. His sisters had finally gotten his mother to go to bed for some rest, promising they wouldn’t leave his dad without someone to keep an eye on him. He glanced over his shoulder at his old man. The last time he’d seen him was when he’d been kicked off the farm for daring to argue the direction they were going business-wise. Then his dad had been robust, healthy—yes, there had been some strain on his face, but, dammit, being a farmer wasn’t an easy life. Now he was thin, pale and laboring for every single breath.
Joseph Meyer Sr. was a proud man and Joe had seen it when his father had come to and discovered all of them standing around his bed. He’d not wanted to be there, lying helpless. He hadn’t spoken and his eyes had closed soon after but he’d woken up and that was the good Joe took from the situation.
Facing the window, he stared out over the five hundred acres that belonged to the family. Just being here, even given the situation, made his heart beat stronger. This was where he belonged and he never should have let his father kick him out.
I’m not leaving again.
“How’s he doing?”
Joe turned to find the baby of the family walking in. “Hey, Mary. Still sleeping soundly.”
“We’ve all eaten. Go get something before Sissy puts it all away, although I think she saved you a plate and left it in the oven for when you get down there.”
Sissy. She’s gone and grown up. In school, she’d been a bean pole but now, damn, the Lord has blessed her with amazing curves. He thought about her mentioning a son.
“What about her boy?”
“What about him? He’s around. Mom said it was fine she brings him. Much like her mom did her when she was young.”
“Where’s the father?”
“I don’t know, Joe. You’ll have to ask her. Go eat. I’ll sit with Dad for a spell.”
He gave his old man one more look before walking out and heading for the wide staircase. Taking his time, he descended, taking in his familial home. Spotless as always, family pictures along the stairs from their childhood up to his great grandparents. But always here. And it was in his blood.
Down at the bottom, a small child played with a tractor. Joe’s lips twitched as he recognized the toy. It was the same one he’d had growing up with its familiar green and yellow paint job, denoting the only company his family would use for farm equipment.
The boy gazed up and smiled, showing off his missing front tooth. “Hi,” he said, pushing to his feet, holding the tractor.
“Hi,” Joe replied. “You must be Sissy’s boy.”
“Taylor. You’re Mr. Joe. Your brother Mr. Patrick said it was okay for me to use your toy.”
While it had been a statement, Joe could hear the question at the end. He nodded. “Absolutely. Do you know where your mother is?”
“Cleaning up in the kitchen.”
The boy’s auburn curls shone in the entry light. He had his mother’s green eyes though—no way for Joe to miss that.
“Thank you.” It had been on the tip of his tongue to inquire where his father was but stopped himself. It wasn’t his place to ask the boy that question.
Pausing in the entry to the kitchen, he stared at the woman he had no problem asking. Sissy was finishing up, the apron ties a
ccentuating her waist and showing off the fullness of her hips. Her black slacks brought his attention closer to the bubble butt she’d in no way had in high school.
She finished wiping off the counter and stepped back, fists on hips as she stared at her handiwork.
“Looks fine to me,” he said.
She jumped, spinning toward him with her hand on her luscious chest. “You scared me.”
He crossed his arms and grinned. “Sorry.”
Sissy rolled her eyes. “Don’t sound it at all. There’s a plate for you in the oven. I’ll clean up in the morning.”
“Why do I feel like you’re running away every time I walk in the room?”
“No clue. Why do you feel that way?”
Her green eyes sparkled and he loved his own body’s reaction to being near her. For the first time since he had been pushed away from his family farm, there came a spark. No more just trudging through daily matters—this woman excited him. Made him want to explore what was beneath her layers.
“Because you get this look on your face, similar to what you have now, and your eyes keep skating left and right as if an exit will just open up and allow you to run away. Am I that scary?”
“You’re not scary,” she retorted, tossing her thick black locks. “Over-exaggerated sense of worth perhaps, but not scary.”
“Really? Is that any way to talk to me?”
“I think we have gone past being professional here, Joe. We grew up together. Hell, you and I fucked under some of the trees on this property one night. Drunk and clumsy, but it happened.”
“I know it happened.” He sent her a wicked grin. “If it helps, I’m not drunk and I’m definitely no longer clumsy.”
She flushed and he wanted to kiss her. She appeared so innocent and adorable.
“No thanks.”
“Are you sure?”
When she bit her lower lip, he almost lunged the rest of the way and slammed his mouth over hers. Somehow, he managed to hold on to the tiny smidge of sanity he had left within him.
“Positive. I have Taylor to think about and sleeping with my boss’ son isn’t on the list of smart things to do.” She shoved her hands into her back pockets, thrusting her full chest forward with the action.
Christ, my cock is already rock hard just being in the same room as her. Seeing that lush chest being pushed more in his direction did nothing to help calm him.
“Can I tempt you?”
She narrowed her eyes. “No. I have to look your parents in the face every day and I’ll not be ashamed because I lost my brain for a bit and slept with their eldest child.”
He moved closer. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Her lids fluttered and he knew right then he was getting to her. Just a bit more pushing and he’d have her where he wanted her. Beneath him in bed. Or above. Either way, he was more than willing to work with it.
“No.”
“Are we going home now, Mom?”
Her child’s voice was a douse of cold water. Sissy recovered first and pasted a warm smile on her face. “Of course we are. I was just on my way to get you. Did you make sure to put that tractor back where Mr. Patrick told you to?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wonderful. Go get your coat. I’m right behind you. Good night, Joe.” She reached out a hand, nearly touched his arm, then moved by. Leaving him wanting.
They were far from finished.
Chapter Four
Sissy leaned against the tree and watched her son play in the snow. They’d gone to Mavis’ Bakery for a special treat earlier and she had a cake baking for him for his birthday later. Right now, it was him and her outside their small home. Before her mother had passed and she had been there taking care of her, Sissy and Taylor had shared the second room in the house. Now he had his own and took great pride in keeping it as clean as she had.
She loved her boy more than anything. Staring down at her hand where a wedding ring used to grace her finger, as if she could see it beneath the glove, she sighed. Lost my husband, lost my mother, never knew my father. All I have left is that little boy there.
At least The Edge was a place he could play outside without having to worry about being abducted. Everyone knew everyone else and secrets in this town were few and far between.
“Taylor, I’m going inside to check on your cake. Make sure you stay in the yard.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he hollered back, throwing up snowballs and catching them, laughing when they broke and showered him with snow.
A smile on her lips, she pivoted around and froze. Joe stood there. How the hell does this man manage to look so good? Especially since he doesn’t appear to try.
“What are you doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow at her words and the tone as well. A car moving by along the stretch slowed and she slanted her gaze to the driver. Of course it would be Mrs. Schmidt. Now everyone will know that Joe Meyers is visiting me at my house. Terrific. It shouldn’t shock her, he’d been showing up here and there for the past month. Or sussing her out at work, just to talk and catch up. Honestly, she enjoyed spending time with him. Loved how it made her feel, wanted. Beautiful. Like something more than merely a housekeeper and mother to a young boy.
“Hope you don’t mind your visit being all over town, because that was Mrs. Schmidt.”
His smile didn’t help her in any way. “Fine by me. Can we talk?”
“I have to go in and check on something in the oven. We can talk on the way.” She brushed by, trying not to think about the form-fitting jeans or the black leather jacket, or the tips of his blond shaggy hair skimming his shoulders. Yeah, failing this miserably.
She stomped her boots off on the porch then pushed open the door. Joe followed her and closed out the cold winter air. Tugging off her gloves, she went to the oven, turned on the light and peered through the glass.
“What do you need?”
He didn’t answer and she pivoted to find him staring at her. Heat flushed her skin. Why is he ogling my ass?
“Joe,” she snapped. His gaze flickered up to hers. “What did you need?”
“You weren’t at the house today.” A brief pause. “Where’s his father?”
Her hackles rose in a mere heartbeat. “If you’re here to lecture me on the fact my son and his father aren’t currently together, get your ass out of my house. I don’t give a damn what your last name is.”
He blinked a few times. “What does this have to do with my last name?”
“Because I work for your family. In no way does that give you the opportunity to judge my life and my son’s.”
“I’m asking because I’m curious.”
“And nosy like the rest of the people in this town.”
She hated how the tears burned at the edges of her eyes, threatening to fall with the least needed bit of provocation. She wheeled back to the oven, swiped some pot holders and pulled out the cake. Placing it on another set of trivets, she then dug for some toothpicks.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He neared her, surrounding her with his larger-than-life presence. “I’m asking because I want to know. Is he still in the picture?”
“No.” She tested the cake, pleased to see nothing lingering on the toothpicks. “He’s not.”
Damn tears.
“Look at me.” He accompanied his order with action and turned her to face him. “Sissy?”
She peered over her shoulder and saw her boy still playing outside, having a blast all on his own. This was hard for him, she knew it—while yes, he was an only child, they’d lived on base and he was used to having so many other children around. Facing Joe once more, she shrugged.
“He’s dead. He was a solider and died overseas.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Sissy turned off the oven and cracked the door about an inch to allow the heat to seep into the kitchen. “It happened a while ago.”
He turned her back to him. “Anyone else in your life?”
“Why are you asking this?”
“Because I want you, Sissy.”
She stared into his eyes, mouth moving but no sound escaping. “What?” The word finally formulated and slid free.
There goes his sexy smile again.
“I want you. All of you.”
Fuck, my knees are weak. She locked them and held his gaze, unwilling to give him the upper hand. “Why? Is this something that you think you’ll get to lord over me because I work for your family?”
“This has nothing to do with my family. This has to do with you. And me.” He moved closer and she shifted to the left to avoid the oven. He slid with her.
“I’m a single mother, Joe. I’m not looking for a fling or to be an itch for your scratch. My son goes to school here and I work for your family. I will not have him become laughing fodder for people of this town.”
“Forget the town.” His voice was like melted chocolate, pouring over her, warm and inviting. “Think about us, what could be.”
He had yet to touch her but all she could feel was his hands on her skin. They would be more calloused now than they had been in high school. Rougher. Bring her more pleasure. She whimpered. It had been so long since she had just given in and indulged herself. Eight years for that, to be precise.
Sex with her husband had been fine, nothing to sing songs about but it hadn’t been horrible. Still, everything about the man before her now, Joseph Meyers, had her body humming in a way it never had with Danny. It broke her heart and yet thrilled her to no end.
“I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Mom!” The door slammed shut. “I got cold so I came in.”
Joe moved back, yet the remnants of his heat still lingered over her. Turning her attention to her son, she smiled. “Want some hot cocoa?”
“Yes, please. Good morning, Mr. Joseph.”
“Morning, Taylor.”
“Are you here because it’s my birthday?”
“I came by to talk with your mother about some things, and happy birthday. How old are you?”
“Eight this year,” he said with a grin. “There’s going to be a party later today. Mom’s making my cake.”