There’s a twist of jealousy and guilt down in my gut and I smile, hiding the conflict that sneaks into the sweet moment.
“I hope it’s a better Valentine’s gift than then candy and flowers?” he asks, his eyes twinkling as the mess of roses and empty chocolate boxes still decorate the counter.
“It’s so pretty!” Linnie exclaims. “And it doesn’t have any thorns.”
I interpret a few more exchanges between Roan and Linnie, thankful for the moment of pause. We went from zero to sixty upstairs and I can’t speak for him, but I’ve never come close to doing anything like that and I’m shocked that I would accept such affection and physical connection with someone I barely know.
Looking at Linnie’s sweet little face, I try to push away the thought of Roan’s tongue as it lapped and gave me my first orgasm with anyone other than myself.
I see how Roan looks at Linnie, desperate to give her what she needs, even as I can see she’s trying to keep him at a distance.
“Linnie?” Roan starts, coming over and putting his hands on her shoulders. “I told you I promise I’ll learn sign language, but for today, can you just use your voice and talk to me? Please?”
Her pouty little lips tighten, and she narrows her eyes. I can see she trusts him, probably loves him, but going through losing your parents will make any little kid twisted up. I know.
“Fine,” she answers, crossing her arms over her chest. “For today.”
“Thank you.” He leans down and kisses the side of her head, even as she bends away at the touch. “Okay, well.” Roan looks around the kitchen like he’s in a foreign country. “Where’s the cereal?”
I can’t even count how many cabinets there are, as well as three or four doors that could be pantries off the massive space.
“I don’t like cereal,” Linnie replies, sitting up straight.
“Since when?” Roan’s voice is tight but kind. “The only thing I can get you to eat is Lucky Charms or Fruity Pebbles.”
“Cereal is so last week.” She licks her lips and I can see in her eyes she’s making this up as she goes along, but the frustration I see in Roan’s face is genuine.
“Okay, let’s start with orange juice. I know where that is…”
“Cancelled,” Linnie snaps and Roan closes his eyes for a moment, as his lips move in a silent count to ten.
“Well, I can try to cook…” He looks utterly lost as his eyes dart around the room.
“I have an idea,” I interject. “I have a super-secret-double-chocolate pancake recipe that’s been handed down to our family by the cousins of some Christmas elves. It’s been in my family for a hundred years. I’ll make it for you…” I pause, giving Linnie a stern, playful look. “But you have to promise, you won’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t tell,” she answers in a rush, shaking her head. “I’m an expert at keeping secrets.”
I hear Roan sigh and see relief wash across his face as he mouths thank you.
“I’ll even let you help; you just have to be sworn to silence for all eternity about what you see here today.”
She holds up her little hand in oath. “I swear.”
The next hour is a flurry of flour and cocoa powder, syrup and chocolate chips. Roan watches as I work with Linnie, and as much as he gave me all the tingles and feels upstairs, the look in his eye as he sits there admiring us as we cook is giving me feelings that flutter my heart and make me feel safe.
As Linnie finishes the last few bites on her plate, Roan’s phone rings and he stands, walking a few steps toward the back windows of the house where the sun is coming up, snow blanketing everything, but the sky is clear, and his voice turns hard again.
“This is Roan,” he answers, like his name is a challenge. He listens to whoever is on the other end, shoving his free hand down into the front pocket of his suit trousers, then replies. “That’s not the offer I made. They can abide by the contract they signed, or it’s lawyers and depositions and court and I have pockets as deep as hell itself. So, if they think they can play this that way, sure. Tell them to get ready to write a big fucking check because I’m coming for them. A deal is a deal, that’s why we sign fucking contracts. Buyer’s remorse is for pussies.”
He listens for another minute and I look at Linnie who is lost in the sugar rush on her near-empty plate.
Roan takes another step away, then his voice rises. “I don’t give a fuck. The provision was for the Goorie to have access to their land within two years. That’s not negotiable. I don’t care what they think. I didn’t strong arm them into signing, they can cry all the way to bankruptcy court because that’s where they are going if they don’t stick to the terms. That’s it. Tell them those words exactly. Fine. Goodbye.”