Whispers of the Past (Story 4)

~4~

All things mystery have been a "thing" for me for awhile now. We're all wondering about Dennis and his client and how he's really connected to Caroline. In due time all will be revealed. For now just enjoy this VERY spicy, hot chapter. If your heart is in this for the mystery and the mystery alone, feel free to skip this read and wait for Chapter 5. If you're anything like me though, do continue ;) 

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~Caroline~

Lydia was more than happy when I enlisted her help in baking a chocolate cake. It was always a highly requested dessert for Family Night in the Specter house. It didn't take long for the kitchen to fill with warmth and laughter as we worked side by side; just a mother and her firstborn daughter strengthening a bond. I loved all of my children equally, of course, but there would always be a special place in my heart reserved just for her.

I was proud of her. Lydia was independent and wise but she was also headstrong and once she had her mind set on something no one could get in her way or stop her. My daughter has the perfect set of traits. Chris could call her a "drama queen" all he wanted-perhaps our perceptions of her were just different.

Once the cake was in the oven Lydia turned to me and smiled. "I'm gonna go check on the twins'. Love you, Mom." Hearing those words twice in one hour made me feel like the luckiest mom in the world. The girl was basically as tall as me, so she didn't have to work hard when she planted a kiss on my cheek and turned, dashing for the exit that her father was entering. "Hi, Dad!"

She was gone too quick and he didn't get to return the greeting as he just stared after her for a moment-the sounds of her footfalls ascending the stairs. Then it was just me and him, alone on the entire first floor of the house.

Sol's expression changed when his eyes settled on me. It wasn't entirely impossible to know what he was thinking; he wanted to know why I hadn't told him about Dennis Rhodes and why I had lied about Jocelyn visiting-even though the latter wasn't quite as important as the former.

His eyes were glossed over-that usually only happened when he was upset, or aroused, or being playful...or drunk. There was no way to know for sure until we had a conversation. I wasn't going to initiate one either. He could do that very well on his own.

So, I started to clean up; the packaging, dirty mixing bowls, utensils that had been necessary in the preparation of the cake that was now cooking and just starting to give off an amazing aroma.

I was loading the used dishes into the dishwasher when his presence came crashing down around me. I could feel him. I could smell him-even over the sweet scent of the cake. So close but not touching. "Why did you run away from me?" His words came out quietly, in my ear. I could feel his breath on my hair and nearly shuddered. I probably would have but I was very focused on the dishes. It wasn't a lot of dishes-I finished in record time-so there was nothing left to do but turn and face him.

I had to tilt my head to look up at him. Damn, his eyes were gorgeous and he smelled so fucking good. Because you demanded my presence as if I were one of our children. I didn't say that, though. "Are you mad at me?" I asked. He leaned forward then, placing his hands on the cabinet on either side of me, trapping me in. I couldn't even run if I wanted to.

"Mad? No. I'm annoyed and disappointed. Is this how you want to get my attention?"

I was already in the "answering his questions with my own" lane and there was no swerving into a different lane so I just tilted my head and tried like hell not to smile. "Hmm. Are you going to spank me?"