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A makeup artist. My initial reaction is to laugh. “If that is how she plans to apply makeup she may be better looking for a job at a circus.”
Chelsea doesn’t laugh and it would seem that my joke has not been well received. “We all have to practise somewhere.”
“Forgive me, I am not criticising your line of work. And if Farrah wants to practise makeup on her own face, then who am I to judge? It’s just my father would never allow it. He won’t allow Farrah to do any form of work.” And as awful as my comment is, it is true. My sister was put on this earth to look good, carry the Calloway name and further the bloodline.
“That’s so sad,” Chelsea says.
“It is,” I agree. “My father’s heart is in the right place, and in his eyes, he is protecting her.”
“Protecting her from what?”
I consider Chelsea’s words as I direct Whiskey to slow down to a trot. “There is a small stream ahead. Why don’t we let the horses rest and have a drink, and we can find somewhere to sit? We can talk and get to know each other a little better.”
What I’m actually asking is to find somewhere to sit so I may get better acquainted with her curves, those luscious lips, and may I dare to imagine that one thing may lead to another?
Chelsea squints in the distance, probably looking for the stream. “Okay, sure, why not.”
I smile to myself.Excellent.
Lucian
We dismount when the stream is within walking distance and remove our riding helmets. With the reins clasped in our hands we walk the horses along the water’s edge. After the animals have had a drink I secure their reins to a nearby tree, and Chelsea and I sit beneath another.
This is my moment to lean in to her and go in for the kill.
So, about last night,” I say. I side-eye Chelsea, but she isn’t looking at me. She is picking tiny daisies from the grass. She fidgets with the flowers for a while before I notice her feeding one stem through another.
I shift awkwardly because my cock envisioned a slightly different scenario, but instead I’m given the cold shoulder. A little presumptuous of me to assume we would jump right back into that kiss. I surmise that Chelsea may need a little time to warm up to the idea.
“You never answered my question,” Chelsea finally says.
So, she just wants to sit and talk? I push back my disappointment and remind myself that we are only two days into our arrangement, there is plenty of time to get to know each other on a more intimate level. “I’m sorry, what question?”
“What is your father protecting Farrah from?”
My father has never given a direct answer to this, so I can only answer her based on my assumption. “Life, reality, getting hurt.”
“But if he protects her from life, she is never going to live. Well, not really.”
I shuffle closer to Chelsea and push a lock of hair behind her ear. “Try telling my father that. He is as stubborn as a mule, and once he has made up his mind there is no changing it.”
Her body deflates a little. “It’s a shame someone can’t talk to him.”
“Maybe you’ll have the opportunity to voice your opinion on Wednesday when he comes for dinner.”
Chelsea’s eyebrows shoot up. “I was referring to you or one of your brothers. I can’t, I mean I won’t say anything, it’s none of my business.”
I lean in for a second time, sweeping her hair away from her face. Her gaze leaves the daisies momentarily and she frowns. “What are you doing?”
“You always let your hair hang loose around your face. Your hair is beautiful, but you should wear it back more often.”
“Oh, yeah?” She shakes her head in defiance, causing her hair to fall messily in front of her eyes.
I capture her chin and turn her face. “I see you, Chelsea. See the way you use your hair to hide behind. But you should never hide because you truly are exquisite.”
Chelsea sucks in her lips, but I can see she’s attempting to stop herself from smiling. She shakes her head again, snapping us out of the moment. “Tell me, Lucian, what’s the deal with Josh?”
I raise a brow. “The deal with him?”
