Chapter 13
Leah woke up with a dry mouth. “Never again,” she whispered.
She remembered drinking more than two glasses of wine when one should have been her limit. Rolling over, she pressed her face into the pillow and reversed her position quickly and sat up. Bright sunlight came through the partially drawn drapes, and it dawned on her she was not only not in the bed in her apartment, but she had also overslept.
Sweeping back the sheet and lightweight blanket, Leah stared at the T-shirt with a fading logo. It was apparent Derrick had undressed her. She remembered him carrying her up the stairs and putting her on the bed, but nothing beyond.
I wasn’t just under the influence, she thought. I was drunk.
Combing her fingers through her hair, she fell back to the pillows cradling her shoulders. It was as if history was repeating itself. Decades ago, she’d shared dinner with a man, drunk too much, and had unprotected sex. Fast-forward thirty years, and again she had too much to drink and found herself in a man’s house—but not in his bed.
Her parents, expressly her father, had lectured her relentlessly before she left for college not to indulge in underage drinking. Larry Berkley warned her about attending frat parties where boys deliberately got girls drunk and she might become a victim of gang rape. He compounded her fear when he told her about girls going to bars and someone putting something in their drink and never being seen again. Leah had heeded their warnings, and during her three years at college she never attended an on- or off-campus party but made it a practice to attend the Vanderbilt Commodores football, basketball, and baseball games.
However, she’d let down her guard when agreeing to drink champagne with Alan. Not only was it her first time drinking with him, but after a few sips she’d immediately felt the effects when she’d shed her inhibitions. Leah had blamed Alan for taking advantage of her while under the influence; however, she’d realized she also had to share blame, because he did not force her to drink three glasses when in the past she had barely finished one.
A dreamy smile parted her lips. Kayana was right about her brother. He was a good guy. He had undressed her while allowing her a modicum of modesty when he hadn’t removed her underwear. She felt pressure on her bladder and got out of bed before she embarrassed herself. Leah walked into the en suite bath and saw a sheet of paper taped to the vanity mirror.
Went to work. Did not want to wake you. I didn’t set the
house alarm. Call me at the Café.—Derrick
She planned to call him, but only after she brushed her teeth and took a shower. Leah opened a closet in the second floor bathroom and discovered shelves with terrycloth bathrobes in various sizes, a supply of toothbrushes, combs, shampoo, conditioners, roll-on and spray deodorants, and facial and body lotions; it was everything she needed to complete her morning ablutions.
Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a terrycloth robe, she reentered the bedroom and retrieved her cell phone from the tote Derrick had left on the chair with her blouse and leggings. After shampooing her hair and washing her body with a thick, rich bath gel, she felt revived.
After she tapped the number for the Seaside Café, Leah counted off three rings before Derrick’s deep voice came through the speaker. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Good morning, Derrick.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful now. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I figured you needed the sleep. I can’t come and get you now because it’s only minutes from opening. Do you want me to go upstairs to your place and bring you a change of clothes?”
Leah knew Derrick had an extra set of keys to the apartment. “Okay.”
“What do you want me to bring?”
“A pair of jeans, socks, tennis shoes, and a T-shirt. And please bring my brush from the bathroom.”
“What about underwear, Leah? Or do you plan to go commando for me?”
Her breath quickened as her cheeks warmed, and Leah was angry with herself for being embarrassed. After all, she was a mature woman with adult sons, yet Derrick’s suggestion she go without her panties when they were together had her fantasizing about making love with him.
“I’ve never gone commando,” she whispered. Derrick’s chuckle caressed her ear.
“I embarrassed you, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t,” she countered quickly.
“Yes, I did, Leah, because you’re breathing heavily. And I definitely wouldn’t mind if you decided not to put on panties.”
Leah was barely able to control her gasp of surprise at his suggestion. It was obvious she wasn’t the only one entertaining licentious thoughts. “I’m not going out without panties, Derrick.”
“You can stay in without them.”
“Please bring underwear when you come,” she said, because she had no comeback to his hint.
“Will do, babe. I’ll see you later.”
Leah ended the call. Exchanging flirty repartee with a man was something she should’ve experienced in her teens or twenties, not when she was rapidly approaching the big five-oh.
She put on the ballet flats and went downstairs to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. It was stocked with the ingredients she needed to make an omelet with smoked ham, mushrooms, red and green pepper, and yellow onion. Derrick had put the leftovers from last night’s dinner in clear plastic containers.
Leah made the omelet, brewed a cup of coffee, and retreated to the breakfast nook to enjoy her breakfast. The first time Derrick had asked her to stay over she’d declined the invitation but did promise she would at another time. She smiled. Last night had become that time. She lingered long enough to brew a second cup of coffee from the single-serve coffeemaker, and as the clock inched closer to eleven she got up, cleaned the kitchen, and went upstairs to wash her clothes.
The hamper was half filled with Derrick’s clothes and bath towels. She separated them by color and put up several loads. The bungalow she’d rented last summer had a washer and dryer, and she’d had to read the manual to learn how to operate the digital model. It was then she had experienced twin emotions of accomplishment and ineptness. In all the years she’d lived at Kent House she never had to do her own laundry. Adele reminded her, and not for the first time, that she’d hired people to cook, clean, and do laundry, while it was beneath Alan’s wife to be seen doing manual or menial chores around the house.
After a while, Leah felt Adele had relegated her to a specific lifestyle in order to make her reliant on Alan. It was only after she’d begun teaching and earning her own salary that she was able to feel a sense of independence. And when she went to visit her parents before their scheduled move to Kentucky, she confided to her mother that the money she earned was hers to keep, and unlike her, she did not have to contribute to the household.
Madeline gave her the same advice she had been given by her mother: always keep a rainy-day account for herself. Madeline had said rainy day while Leah’s grandmother had called it fuck you money, because a woman never knew when her husband would decide to leave and not come back, and meanwhile the wife had depended on him to keep a roof over her head and food on the table for their children. That was when Leah began depositing ninety percent of her take-home pay in a retirement account that wasn’t contingent on the fluctuating stock market.
Although having enough money was never her concern, she was still inexperienced when it came to things other women her age had encountered. She’d gone from her father’s house to her husband’s house when she should’ve been teaching and traveling with friends and coworkers who were the epitome of sexually independent women. Then she would’ve been given the option of dating, sleeping with, and marrying whomever she chose.
However, whenever she found herself sinking deeper into the abyss of self-pity, Leah had to remind herself if her life had taken another path she never would’ve had her sons. They were the light of her life and her pride and joy. And she still could not understand how they had turned out so unlike their father when he had played such a pivotal role in their upbringing. She had admitted to Kayana that Alan was a much better father than a husband.
Although Aron and Caleb weren’t perfect, they were well mannered and ethical. Even as teenage boys they were very discriminating when it came to dating, although they were popular with a few girls who flirted shamelessly with them. Whenever she’d asked either one whether they liked a girl, Caleb would complain she was too aggressive, or Aron’s comeback was he did not want to hook up with anyone because it would interfere with his schoolwork. Once they left to attend college, she stopped asking them about the women with whom they were involved.
She smiled. Caleb’s revelation that he had proposed to his girlfriend had not just taken her by surprise; she now knew for certain her sons would not bear any resemblance to former generations of Kent men.
* * *
Derrick parked the Highlander in the garage, then reached for the quilted weekender with the clothes Leah had asked him to bring and a shopping bag with a container of marinating ribeye steak. After hanging up with Leah he’d chided himself for teasing her about not wearing panties. He thought she was going to tell him that he’d gone too far, because he didn’t know her like that, but when she didn’t, he hoped she wouldn’t hold it against him.
Perhaps he’d become rusty in the romance department. Andrea had died five years ago, and Leah was the first woman, other than his female relatives, to sleep under his roof. And he should have taken Kayana’s advice to begin dating again, because he was mourning for someone that wasn’t coming back.
But Derrick knew that hadn’t been possible as long his teenage daughter lived with him. He did not want to introduce her to a strange woman when she was still grieving the loss of her mother. However, when Deandra went to Florida to spend the summer with her aunt, grandmother, and cousins and decided to stay rather than return to Coates Island, the situation, though unplanned, told him he should have stopped sleeping with the divorcée and have an open relationship with someone not based on sex.
He opened the door to the mudroom, leaving his shoes on the mat. It was a habit he’d developed when he returned from New York to help his mother manage the Café. Work shoes were never worn in the house, and he never came home wearing his chef’s jacket and pants. They were deposited in bags to be picked up by the laundry service.
Derrick walked into the kitchen and stopped short. Leah stood at the sink in her leggings, ballet flats, and one of his University of Alabama T-shirts. Wavy strawberry blond hair covered the nape of her long neck. He set her bag on a stool at the island.
“Who is this strange woman, and how did she come to be in my kitchen?”
He knew he’d surprised her when she spun around and stared at him as if he’d grown an eye in the middle of his forehead. Derrick couldn’t pull his gaze away when she covered her heaving breast with both hands.
“What are you doing sneaking up on me? You almost gave me a heart attack.”
Derrick approached Leah and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Never.” He peered over her shoulder. “What are you making?”
“Dinner.”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Stuffed mushrooms, asparagus with Romano cheese, and spaghetti with garlic and oil. When I looked in the refrigerator’s vegetable drawer I noticed the mushrooms and asparagus were going soft. I hate throwing away food, so I used my phone to search for recipes for stuffed mushrooms. And instead of boiling the asparagus I’m going grill them under the broiler.”
Derrick winked at her. “You’re going to spoil me if you keep this up.”
Leah’s blue eyes crinkled in a smile. “You do enough cooking, so it’s time you let someone else cook for you. By the way, why do you have so much food in your fridge if you cook at the restaurant?”
“September to May I keep it stocked because I’m home every night. Remember, Kay and I rotate working two weeks on and two weeks off. I come in after the Café closes to help clean up while she preps for the next day, and she does the same when I’m working.”
“That’s what I call an equitable division of labor.”
“It works for us, babe.” He walked to the refrigerator and put the container with the steak on a shelf. “I marinated some ribeye for Korean barbecue, but we can have it for tomorrow’s dinner along with fried rice.”
“We’re on a roll, Derrick. Southern last night, Italian tonight, and Asian tomorrow.”
“Will you come up with a menu for the rest of the week?”
Leah shook her head. “No. I’m going to leave that up to you, because you’re the one who lived in New York where there are thousands of restaurants with different dishes from all over the world.”
Derrick knew she was right. He could dine at a different restaurant every day for a year and not visit the same one twice. He’d eaten in French, Chinese, Greek, Mexican, Cuban, soul food, Korean, Indian, and Thai restaurants.
“I’m going upstairs to shower and change, then I’ll be back to help you.”
“Take your time. I’m good here.”
Derrick walked out of the kitchen and took the staircase to the second story. If Leah was good, then he was even better. Walking into the house to find her in the kitchen made him aware of what he had missed. It wasn’t about sex. It was having someone to talk to and laugh with.
But he had to be very careful with Leah. She was his sister’s friend, and Kayana would bring holy hell down on him if she suspected he was taking advantage of Leah. However, Leah wasn’t as emotionally fragile as she appeared. She’d lived with a man who tried to break her spirit, but doing so made her even stronger. She wasn’t a victim or a survivor. And she was a mother who’d raised her sons not to mirror their father’s behavior.
Derrick entered his bedroom and saw the stack of folded clothes and towels on the leather bench at the foot of the bed. It was apparent Leah had kept busy doing laundry and cooking, no doubt to make up for when she was mandated to follow the dictates of her mother-in-law.
He knew when Kayana and Leah discussed books they also confided in each other about their marriages. His sister had resented her husband using their home like a nightclub where he’d entertained his friends and colleagues several times a month. She had put up with it until she discovered he’d cheated on her, and their twenty-year marriage came to a screeching stop. And Leah had put up with a cheating, dictatorial, verbally abusive husband until he hit her. The single act had galvanized her to leave and file for divorce after thirty years.
Both had married wealthy, prominent men who sought to conceal their clandestine affairs in order to preserve their status within their social circle. Derrick smiled when he recalled his grandmother’s sage warning: “You may get by, but you’ll never get away.” His brother-in-law got his comeuppance because he married Kayana without a prenup, and it was apparent karma was breathing down Judge Alan Kent’s neck, because Leah had threatened to expose him as a batterer if he contested the divorce.
Stripping off his clothes, Derrick walked into the master suite’s bathroom and stepped into the freestanding shower with an oversize showerhead. Despite changing out of street clothes and into a chef uniform and cap, the smell of food permeated the fabric to cling on his skin and hair. His normal routine was shaving before showering, but tonight was different. He wanted to spend as much time with Leah as possible. He shampooed his hair and then soaped his body. After rinsing off, he stepped out and picked up a towel from a stack on a low bench and dried off. Dressed in a pair of walking shorts and T-shirt, he descended the staircase and made his way into the kitchen.
* * *
Leah hummed along with a classic Stevie Wonder song as she concentrated on cutting cloves of garlic into thin slices. She had admitted to Derrick that she loved cooking because it was a reminder of the normalcy she’d experienced when growing up. There was never a day in the week when she could not be found in the kitchen. She would come home after classes were dismissed, change out of her school clothes, and then make her way into the kitchen to do her homework while her mother would begin making dinner. Madeline always timed the meal to coincide with her husband coming home and taking a shower before the family sat down at the table. Leah had the responsibility of setting the table, while her brother cleared the table. After her grandmother passed away and her mother went to work in the dress factory, Leah assumed some of the responsibility to help Madeline prepare meals.
Leah saw movement out the side of her eye and smiled at Derrick as he joined her in the kitchen. She sucked in a breath when staring at his muscular legs in a pair of shorts. He admitted to working out every day, and it was evident.
“It looks as if you have everything under control.”
He rested a hand at the small of her back and then gently massaged her shoulder blades. His warmth and the lingering scent of his body wash sent chills up and down her body as Leah pointed to the pan with four mushrooms stuffed with spicy sausage meat and topped with panko breadcrumbs.
“I just finished mixing the stuffing for the mushrooms. I had to use dry parsley when I would’ve preferred fresh.”
“I normally don’t keep fresh herbs in the house. If I know I’m going to make a dish that calls for them, I’ll bring some from the restaurant.”
“Why don’t you grow some here and use them when needed?”
“I am not a farmer, Leah.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “You don’t have to be a farmer to have an herb garden. You can buy them already potted and replant them near the she-shed or line up small pots on the window ledge in the breakfast nook.”
Derrick kissed her ear. “You can buy them and put them wherever you like, and I’ll reimburse you.”
“You don’t have to reimburse me, Derrick. Buying a few herbs will definitely not bankrupt me. I’ll probably buy them online rather than drive to a mainland nursery.”
“If you order them online, then charge it to the restaurant’s account.”
Leah didn’t want to argue with Derrick about money. “Okay.”
He smiled. “What do you plan to buy?”
“Parsley, basil, mint, rosemary, thyme, sage, cilantro, oregano, dill, and lemongrass.”
“Impressive.”
She elbowed him softly in the ribs. “You’re going to have to let me go so I can work here.” As much as Leah enjoyed the press of his body against hers, she found it much too distracting.
Derrick took a backward step. “Is there anything I can help with?”
“You can put up a pot of water for the spaghetti.”
He executed a snappy salute. “Yes, chef.”
Leah wanted to remind him she was not a chef. There were only two places where she felt completely secure: the classroom and the kitchen. She’d encouraged her students to debate an author’s motivation for writing a novel; and when the discussions became spirited Leah knew they were totally involved in the required readings.
Then there was the kitchen. If it was the heart of the house, then cooking was its life’s blood. And Leah equated it to family. It was where people gathered for their meals, shared stories of what had occurred in their lives that day, and where recipes were passed down through countless generations. And for her, it had become the most inviting and comfortable room in the house.
“What are we drinking tonight?”
Leah slowly shook her head. “Definitely not wine.”
Reaching into an overhead cabinet, Derrick took down plates and glasses. “Kayana said you guys were lit up during your book club meetings. What were you drinking?”
“We had martinis, margaritas, and one time it was a champagne punch. But there wasn’t so much champagne that I wound up with a headache.”
“So, you ladies went for the hard stuff?”
“Not every meeting. There was one where we served mocktails.”
Leah had enjoyed the weekly get-togethers. She had bonded quickly with Kayana because they were closer in age and both had been married, while she and Cherie would figuratively bump heads when the younger woman would attack her without provocation. It was Kayana who came to her defense, and Leah viewed her as an ally and now as an unofficial sister.
She could have gone to Kentucky after the assault to stay with her immediate family and wait for her bruised body to heal, but instead had driven to North Carolina and the Seaside Café and her friend because she knew Kayana would not be judgmental. Even when she’d told her about her dysfunctional marriage, not once had her friend suggested she leave Alan. As a professional social worker, Kayana knew once Leah tired of the abuse she would leave. And she was right.
She had left Richmond in late January, and it was now the last week in April, and in that span of time Leah had come to know and like who she had become. She was free to go to bed and wake up whenever she wanted. And she did not have to concern herself whether she had to wear makeup or dress a certain way in case Alan brought someone to their home for dinner. The rigid, suffocating lifestyle she had endured for more than half her life was dead and never to be resurrected.
The month was also significant because of her sons’ birthday. She’d gifted Aron with a Waterford crystal hockey puck paperweight and Caleb with a Waterford globe paperweight. It had become more difficult for her to come up with appropriate gifts for them. Alan had bought them new cars for their sixteenth birthdays, vehicles they’d left in Richmond once they left for college. They would drive them when they came back in between semesters, but when they announced their intention to live in New York Leah convinced Alan to donate the vehicles to two local charities.
Next year she would turn fifty, and if she lived to be eighty-one, then she would be able to celebrate thirty-one years of freedom compared to the thirty she had spent in emotional bondage.
“Sweet tea or lemonade?” Derrick asked Leah.
“Lemonade.”
“I usually make it with club soda and grenadine so it’s pink and fizzy.”
“Show off.”
Derrick blew her an air kiss. “Anything to impress my lady.”
She sobered with his reference to her being his lady. Did she want to be his lady? Yes, she did. Leah wanted to be Derrick’s lady, girlfriend, and lover. He was the first man who made her want all of him. And as much as she tried to deny it, she knew she was falling in love with Kayana’s brother. He possessed every good thing she looked for in a man. He was kind, gentle, friendly, generous, and it was obvious he loved and supported his daughter and sister.
“Am I really your lady, Derrick?” The question came out before she could censor herself.
He met her eyes. “You could be, but only if you want.”
Her lip trembled, and she bit so hard she could feel it pulsing. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen of a man who had enthralled her from the first time she saw him. Leah wasn’t certain whether it was about his masculine beauty, but there was something about the man Kayana had introduced as her brother that communicated he was everything her husband wasn’t and couldn’t be.
At first she thought the attraction was solely physical until she witnessed the interaction between him and Kayana. His voice would change, softening in tone, whenever he tried to convince her to come around to his way of thinking. Kayana told her that even though she and Derrick were equal co-owners, it was her brother who had purchased the restaurant from their mother once she decided to retire.
“I do,” she whispered. Those were the same two words she had uttered when asked if she would take Alan Stephens Kent to become her lawfully wedded husband. But Derrick wasn’t Alan, and the two words now meant something entirely different.
Derrick blinked. “Do you know what this means, Leah? Once we begin, there will be no turning back. Let me know whether you’re all in, because it won’t upset me if you don’t—”
“I’m all in, Derrick Johnson,” she said, cutting him off. Leah wiped her hands on a dish towel and approached him. Curving her arms under his shoulders, she pressed her breasts against his muscled chest and breathed a kiss on his throat. She wanted to kiss his mouth but knew that would prove disastrous because then she would beg him to make love to her over and over like an addict craving a drug. Light from overhead pendants glinted off his gray hair, turning it a shimmering silver.
Cradling her face in his hands, Derrick smiled. “I was hoping you would say that.”
Her pale eyebrows flickered. “Really?”
“Yes really. That’s why I packed several changes of clothes for you.”
Her jaw dropped. “You were so certain that I would spend another night here?”
“Not certain, but hoping and praying,” he admitted. “I put you in the guest bedroom last night when I really wanted you in my bed. And given your condition, I would not have taken advantage of you, but it has been so long since I’ve had a woman in this house, in my bed, that I’ve had erotic dreams about you.”
Leah laughed. “Erotic enough that you wake up with an erection?” She knew she’d shocked him when she felt him go stiff. “Did I shock you?”
He smiled. “Yes. But I like that you feel comfortable speaking your mind.”
“Then be prepared, because there are things that come out of my mouth that even shock me.”
Derrick sobered. “We’re not kids, Leah, so we should be free to say whatever we want.”
Going on tiptoe, she pressed a kiss over one eye and then the other. He smelled so good that Leah wanted to taste him from head to toe. “I agree, as long as it’s not mean and hurtful. How often do you want me to sleep over?” She had to know if he wanted her to stay a few nights a week or longer.
“Every night.”
Easing back, she stared up at him. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Yes. I want to wake up and go to sleep knowing you’re in the house. And whenever I’m off I want to take you to someplace where you’ve never been. We can have movie night here or at the theater in Shelby. I want to do all the things with you that you missed during your marriage and what I’ve missed since becoming a widower.”
A half smile parted her lips. “In other words you want us to date?”
“Yes.”
“What about your daughter, Derrick? How will she react when she finds out you’re living with a woman?”
“Let’s get one thing straight, Leah. I love my daughter unconditionally, but I will not allow her to dictate what goes on in my life. I wanted her to live with me until she went off to college, but she opted to spend her senior year in Florida. I was upset because I wasn’t ready to let her go, yet I didn’t want to demand she come back home because that would’ve destroyed our relationship. She’s eighteen and no longer a child. She can vote, enlist in the military, and marry without my permission. What she needs is my financial and emotional support. And that’s what I give her. Once she enrolls in college in the fall she’ll probably meet some boy who will become the center of her universe and I’ll have to accept that Daddy is no longer the only man in her life. And to answer your question, however Deandra reacts will not affect our living arrangements. I want you here, and you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
“Thank you for clearing that up.” What Leah did not want to do was come between Derrick and his daughter because of a belief she was trying to supplant her mother. “Do you expect me to sleep with you?” She had to ask because he’d said, “I want to wake up and go to sleep knowing you’re in the house.”
“I don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to do. You should know I do want to make love with you, but only on your terms. And remember, you’re always free to leave whenever you want.”
Leah was momentarily stunned. Derrick was giving her a choice—something she’d never had with Alan. It had been his way or no way.
She wanted and needed to be made love to in the worst way, yet knowing she and Derrick would sleep under the same roof made that inevitable.
She struggled not to break down and cry happy tears. “Thank you.”
Derrick kissed her forehead. “No, babe. Thank you. You’re the best thing to come into my life in a long time.”
Going on tiptoe, Leah pressed her mouth to his ear. “You don’t have worry about getting me pregnant, because I had my tubes tied.”
“And I’m too old to think about fathering more children. Kay’s been teasing me about becoming a grandfather, and I keep telling her that I’m not ready for that. Maybe I’ll be ready in another ten years.”
“How old are you?” Leah asked.
“I’ll be forty-nine in November.”
“I’m six months older than you. I’ll turn forty-nine next month.”
“That’s okay. I happen to like older women.”
Leah landed a soft punch on his shoulder. “I’m not that old.”
“You’re not. When I first saw you, I thought you were in your late thirties.”
“So you were looking at me?”
“Hell, yeah. I was checking you out. But when I saw your wedding band I knew you were unavailable.”
“The ring was all for show, Derrick. I was always a mother but never a wife.”
“Do you want to get married again?”
Leah shook her head. “No. Once is enough. I’d be content to spend the next thirty years of my life unencumbered. What about you? Do you want to remarry?”
Derrick angled his head. “I really don’t think about it.”
“Well, it looks as if we’re both on the same page when it comes to marriage.” She untangled her arms. “I have to finish cooking before my stomach starts growling.”
“What did you eat today?” Derrick asked.
“I had an omelet this morning and nothing else.”
“You need to eat more often, because I like a woman with a little junk in her trunk.”
“Is trunk the same as booty?”
Derrick laughed. “Yes. Why?”
“Kayana told me that her brother happens to like women with some booty.”
“She’s right.” He cupped her hips, squeezing her buttocks through the leggings. “You’re getting there.”
“So you’re an ass man?”
“I like what’s above the neck rather than what’s below it. If I can’t have an intelligent conversation with a woman, then it doesn’t matter what she looks like. You just happen to be an H to T.”
“What’s that?”
“Head to toe, babe.” He made a sweeping motion over his body. “All of it.”
Leah stared at Derrick with a longing she was unable to disguise. When she’d revealed she had zero chance of becoming pregnant it had become an open invitation for him to make love to her. “I’d better get back to cooking or neither of us will eat tonight.”