Read The Leftover Club Online

Authors: Ginger Voight

The Leftover Club (26 page)

“Not yet,” I admitted, though I made the mental note to watch this one.

We filled some mugs with cider and headed back out to the Fenns. Dylan was still pensive, which was a new side of him. I handed him the mug and he offered a small smile.

“I’m sorry we spoiled your plans,” Augustus told me. “I don’t normally come to the cabin, but Ashley wanted to ski over the holidays.” He benevolently took her back under his arm. “But there is plenty of room for everyone
. You’re more than welcome to stay.”

I stood closer to Dylan. “Thank you. That is very kind of you to offer.”

“We should probably go down to the inn,” Dylan interjected. “To give you both some privacy.”

“Nonsense,” Augustus scoffed. “We’ll only use the one bedroom. You both can have the other two.”

Separate bedrooms? Best friends? Clearly Augustus had already made up his mind about our relationship, and Dylan wasn’t doing much to correct it.

“Besides, it will give us some time to visit,” the elder Fenn said. “We don’t get to spend any real time together.”

I felt Dylan bristle beside me. Augustus just forged on.

“You can tell me all about your latest news. How’s show business?” he asked as he ambled toward the recliner in the living room.
“Ready to give up on that yet?”

I followed Dylan to the sofa, where we sat stiffly side by side. When Dylan didn’t say anything, I finally jumped in. “It’s actually going very well, Mr. Fenn.”

“Augustus,” he corrected as his piercing gaze met mine. “But please. Go on.”

It felt like a dare. I steeled my spine as I accepted it. “I work for his agent. We found him the perfect project. Filming begins next month in Louisiana. There’s a lot of buzz about the movie.
Could be a real contender for the Oscar next year.”

He just harrumphed.
“Buzz. Right. Well, hopefully it’s something you’ll get paid for this time.”

“I always get paid,” Dylan answered.

“For more than pouring coffee?” Augustus wanted to know.

He was really starting to piss me off, belittling his son like he was.
Despite the unpredictability of the business, Dylan had managed to work consistently for two decades, whether it was modeling or as working as a personal trainer in between gigs. He had never waited one table or poured one pot of coffee.

“The deal should be very lucrative for your son,” I answered coolly.

“You have to say that, don’t you?” Augustus challenged. “You get, what? Ten percent? Twenty-five?”

“I get nothing,” I answered. “I’m not the agent.”

“So you’re just a secretary.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “If I’m just a secretary, I paid way too much for my Bachelor’s degree in business management.”

He studied me thoughtfully. “Good for you. Too bad you didn’t rub off on my son.”

I opened my mouth for another catty reply, but Dylan interrupted before I could say anything. “I went to school, Dad. Remember?”

“An acting school,” Augustus dismissed. “Talk about a useless trade.”

“I make people happy,” Dylan shot back. “That’s not useless.”

“Perhaps,” Augustus entertained as he swirled the champagne in his glass. “But when they are sick or dying, they want a doctor. Not a clown.”

I was aghast how he was speaking to his son.
Apparently Ashley was too, as she was quick to change the subject. “So where are the best places to ski around here?” she asked Dylan. “I can’t wait to hit the slopes.”

Augustus chuckled. “If it’s a leisure activity, I’m sure Dylan is the expert to ask.”

Dylan’s face hardened as he stared at his father. Finally he bestowed a brilliant, charming smile for his companion. “I’d be glad to show you,” he said. “But really, we should head down into town and book some rooms.”

“Don’t be silly,” Augustus said. “Nothing will be available. You might as well stay here.”

Dylan was on his feet before the sentence ended. “No, Dad. This vacation is on me.” He stalked out of the cabin and I chased behind him.

He didn’t say another word until we were halfway to town. I started to ask, “Are you okay?” a dozen times, but it was clear that he wasn’t. I touched his arm, but he didn’t react. He was like a stone statue next to me in the car.

We headed to Barbara Anderson’s place, and while she didn’t have a room in her hotel, she had guest quarters on the property that she reserved for family and friends. Now that our children were dating, we qualified. Dylan responded in mostly monosyllabic replies and shakes or nods of his head. He said nothing at all as she showed us around the pretty little cabin that stood unattached to the rest of the property. It had a loft upstairs with one bedroom downstairs and a deck overlooking the lake. She started a fire in the stone fireplace before she finally left us, promising to send complimentary room service in lieu of the evening meal, to give us plenty of time to rest and relax.

Dylan had other ideas. The minute the door shut after her, he had me in his arms, his mouth on mine in a kiss so desperate I could taste his very soul. The kiss broke as he fumbled with my top. “Dylan,” I started but he was beyond hearing. He undressed me quickly and desperately before he carried me toward the bed.

He kicked his clothes free before he descended upon me, naked and bare. “Dylan,” I tried again.

“I want to feel you,” he said as his hand disappeared between my legs.
“Every inch of you. Every part of you.”

“You know we can’t,” I tried to reason.

“Why?” he demanded softly. “Why can’t we? Because you’ll get pregnant? Because I’m not ready to be a dad?” Tears spilled from his eyes and splashed onto my face. “Tell me how I could fuck up any worse than him. Or Wade. Tell me, Roni.”

I cupped his face with my hand. “You would be a great dad,” I told him in a gentle, soft voice. He turned his face away and choked back a soft sob. “Look at Meghan. Look at how she’s blossomed just from a few months of knowing you. When that asshole Kyle left her, you were there to put the pieces back together. You knew how it felt to be abandoned, and you stepped up to make sure she never felt that way. You’re a good man, Dylan. And you’d be an amazing father.”

His eyes burned bright as stared down at me. “You really believe that, don’t you?” he said softly. I nodded and he leaned for another kiss. “Let me love you, Roni,” he whispered against my lips. “All of you.”

He rubbed against me, and I had to admit the idea was intoxicating. Throwing caution to the wind, purposefully using the act of procreation for the very reason it was designed. I couldn’t imagine having Dylan’s baby inside of me, or becoming the mother to his child. It all sounded so good… too good.

“I can’t,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

He growled as he pulled away. He sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

I placed my hand on his back. “You can’t fix what’s wrong with you and your dad by getting me pregnant. We should only do it because we want to.”

His eyes were bright with tears as he glanced back at me. “Maybe I do.” He stood and grabbed his jeans from the floor. “Maybe I always have.” He was angry as he started to get dressed. “That’s the real problem here. It’s not that you don’t want to have a baby. You just don’t want to be tied down to me.”

I was off the bed like a shot. “You know that’s not true.”

He swung around to face me. “Isn’t it? You rejected me constantly through high school because you had a better bet in Bryan. Then you married some rich asshole before you even finished college. Admit it,
Roni. I’m not good enough for you.”

My mouth fell open
. “Not good enough for me?” I echoed. “I was the one who felt I was never good enough for
you
. You ran from me as fast as was humanly possible whenever those kids on that playground saw us kissing.”

He sighed in exasperation.
“For fuck’s sake, Roni. I was nine!”

“And I was in love with you!” I yelled back. “I never stopped. Even Wade was a step down from you. Don’t you see that you have always been my ideal? You were my holy grail, Dylan. Every girl in school got to fuck you but you never paid me one iota of attention when it didn’t feed your ego. I just never wanted to be your consolation prize.”

We stared at each other for a long moment. Finally he walked over to me, his pants still unzipped. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me into his embrace, for a kiss so deep I thought we might disappear inside each other. He lifted me up and I crossed my legs behind his back before we toppled back down onto the bed. When he entered me, I offered no protest.

It was a moment I had been waiting for a long, long time. We were officially one. I could feel every inch of his rock-hard flesh, and he could feel every inch of me as I opened to him like a virgin. He gasped as he buried himself deep. His eyes were dark as he stared into mine. We were speechless as he began to stroke. This was more than sex now. This was a promise we were making, taking a chance with our future, bonding ourselves together in a way we couldn’t before. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, rolling off the side of my face and onto the pillow below as I looked up at him.

He brushed the side of my face with his thumb. “You are no consolation prize,” he murmured. “You are the gold medal. The blue ribbon. More than I could ever dream.” He kissed me tenderly and made love to me slowly, luxuriating in each and every sensational stroke. I clutched him in tighter, which made him moan loud and long. He sped up like a man possessed. “I want to come inside you, Roni.”

I was beyond denying him at this point. It was all I wanted too. All I had ever wanted. “Make me yours,” I begged in a soft whimper.

He shuddered hard as he rode me desperately. He plunged in deep, hollering out as he emptied himself inside of me. His eyes met mine as he struggled to catch his breath. He knew I hadn’t come, so his hand slipped between us as he stimulated my clit. Every muscle twitched and convulsed around him as he encouraged me on. “Yeah, baby. Come for me. Let me feel you. God, yes.”

I bucked underneath him, grinding against his hand as I felt him slowly deflate inside. He still filled me with that majestic cock that had always fit like it was made to. And maybe it was. Maybe, after all this time, I finally landed the man I was born to love.

How could anything that came from that be bad?

I didn’t mention babies or pregnancies or commitments as I vaulted into outer space, or later once I floated gently back to earth and came to rest in his arms. We said nothing at all as we held each other. We spoke through touch, and kiss, alone.

It was magical.

Barbara sent room service as promised, a candlelit dinner for two with a decadent dessert to share. We didn’t even bother getting out of bed to
eat, instead we fed each other, before all food was forgotten as we disappeared once again inside one another. It felt like a honeymoon. There were absolutely no barriers between us anymore.

We didn’t even answer our phones. I sent a short text back to Meghan when she let me know she had landed safely, but everyone else was forgotten until the next morning, when the incessant buzzing of his phone could no longer be ignored.

He sighed as he glanced through the messages. “I suppose we should make an appearance,” he said, though it was clear it was the last thing he wanted. “We’ll do the dad thing, the family thing, and then I’m taking you back to L.A. to do the us thing.” He pulled me close. “Sound good to you?”

I smiled as I snuggled up to him. “Sounds like a perfect Christmas to me.”

“You won’t have snow,” he pointed out.

“But I’ll have you,” I murmured.

He traced my cheek with his finger. “You’ll always have me.”

We set up a dinner that night at Barbara’s inn, after Ashley and Augustus had hit the slopes.
Neither one of us were looking forward to it, and he was downright morose by the time we got dressed. “It’ll be okay,” I promised.

He didn’t say anything. He just took my hand in his and kissed it for luck.

Augustus and Ashley were already seated by the time we joined them. The two Fenns sat opposite each other, as Ashley and I quietly did the same. To fend off the awkwardness, we all promptly disappeared behind our menus. “I’ve never been here,” Augustus announced. “I’m not sure what the standard is.”

“We’ve eaten here,” Dylan stated. “The last time we came around Thanksgiving, with
Roni’s daughter.”

Augustus glanced at me over the top of the menu. “You have a child?”

“Not quite a child anymore,” I answered. “She’s sixteen.”

“Are you married?” he wanted to know.

“Divorced. Ten years,” I replied.

He nodded. “Parenthood is not for the faint of heart, is it?
A more binding commitment than marriage. Not everyone can pull it off.”

“That’s an understatement,” Dylan mumbled.

The waiter stopped by to offer a bottle of wine. I had forgotten much of my wine education from my years with Wade, but I understood enough that “Cabernet Sauvignon” and “Bordeaux” would please the fine doctor. Our glasses were poured and we toasted to family.

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