He pushed her back under the spray and lifted one leg so that her foot rested on the side of the tub. He picked up the soap and lathered a wash cloth, then gently started to wash her inner thighs. “That would mean we would have to discuss the fact you were a virgin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lou. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a virgin, but I haven’t forgotten the way it feels. The proof is all over you…and me.” He rinsed the washcloth and started to clean himself. Lou stood completely still.
“Does it matter to you?” she asked gently.
“Of course it matters to me.” He kissed her gently and reached behind her to turn off the water. “It would have mattered to me a lot more if I had known ahead of time. I would have been gentler.”
He opened the shower curtain and grabbed a towel off the rack. He wiped her face with it gently and then dried her arms and legs. He wrapped the towel around her and tucked it between her breasts. Then he grabbed one for himself and rubbed it across his hair and then tied it around his waist. He pushed her gently into the bedroom where he stripped the blood stained coverlet from her bed.
He tugged gently on the edge of her towel where it was tucked between her breasts. It fell from her body. He removed his own and slid between the sheets on her bed.
He tugged her fingertips until she joined him. They lay facing one another.
“There’s just one more thing I need to know.” He fiddled with the hair that hung over her forehead.
“What’s that?” Lou asked quietly.
“Unless Sarah was some kind of Immaculate Conception, she’s not your daughter.” She tensed.
“She is my daughter!” Lou attempted to sit up and move away from him, but he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back in bed. He pulled her back against his front, her bottom cradled by his thighs.
“Lou,” he sighed and spoke close to her ear. “She’s your daughter now, but you didn’t give birth to her. That much is obvious.” He reached around her hips to the skin above her womanly curls. Her belly flipped. He searched her flat stomach with his fingertips. “No scar. No cesarean. Who’s her biological mother?”
“Oh, Brody.” Tears welled up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She took a deep breath. “Can we enjoy the rest of the night and discuss this tomorrow?”
“You promise we’ll come back to this topic?”
“Yeah, I promise.”
He pulled her closer to him, one arm beneath her cheek as the other stroked her back. “Yeah. We can talk about it tomorrow. You care if I stay for a while?” He pulled the sheet up over them both.
“You had better,” she responded as her eyes closed.
****
Wes’s cell phone rang in his pocket. He put down his cue stick, reached for it and flipped it open, “Yeah, Boss?”
“Did you get it yet?”
“No. Not yet.” He heard a growl on the other end of the line and loud curses. “I told her she has seven days to produce what you want. I gave her a little scare because I sent the note by way of her daughter.” He laughed maliciously.
“Good thinking. Hit her where it hurts.”
“She’ll give you what you want. She would hate for something to happen to that pretty little girl.”
“I want what’s mine. Get it.” The phone clicked off.
****
Lou woke at dawn, as usual, and sat up quickly in bed. She clutched the sheet to her naked body. Naked! Oh, my God! The pillow beside her own was still warm and smelled like Brody. She buried her face in his pillow and sniffed deeply. She smiled broadly but the smile was quickly replaced by a frown.
What had she done? She’d had sex with Brody. Wild and crazy sex. Fabulous, mind blowing sex. And now he knew. He knew her secret. She had kept it hidden for so many years. Jeb, Sadie, John, and Mrs. Wester were the only ones who knew her secret. Now there was one more person. He knew! He knew Sarah wasn’t truly her daughter. She wasn’t her biological daughter, at least.
Lou swung her legs over the edge of the bed and winced. She was sore in places she didn’t know she had. She dressed quickly and put her hair into a ponytail. She put on her running shoes, even though she did not feel like running.
This was the day of Mrs. Wester’s funeral with the service and internment at noon. She wasn’t required to make breakfast because most of the hands were off for the day, but she could still fry bacon and eggs for Jeb, Sadie, and John. And Brody. Don’t forget about Brody. How can I forget Brody? Just one thought of him made her pulse race as she remembered him from the night before. She flushed as she recalled the way his hands had moved across her body and the tender way he held her as she went to sleep. She shook the distraction from her mind like a dog shakes after a bath and walked downstairs.