His Young Maid: A Forbidden Boss Age Gap Romance Daisy Jane (love letters to the dead TXT) 📖

since Lucy, I realized I’d been so afraid of finding and losing love again that I’d stopped trying, stopped living. Using a prostitute who couldn’t reject me? It didn’t take a shrink to know that I was being a complete pussy. The darkness inside me expanded as I grew lonelier, but Darcy or no Darcy, I had it.

Single or dating, either way, I had it - the big black dip inside me. Even if I skirted around it for years, it was still there. After meeting Britta, I knew I had to stop being scared. If she rejected me, still, it would still all have been worth it. Trying for more had to be better than staying stagnant.

Her fingers trace purposefully behind my neck, up into my hair, and the sensation is that of an explosive being detonated. I wrap my arms behind her, tight against the small of her back and she rises to her toes to kiss me.

“I’ve missed you this way so much,” she whispers on a gentle moan as my lips work at the side of her neck, kissing her, tasting her.

“And hello to you, too,” she nuzzles into me as I continue kissing her, reminding myself we are in the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant downtown, not the bedroom of my home like I wished.

“Hello,” I kiss her temple, the top of her head, then lean down over her lips, soft and slow. “God you taste so good.” The way I remembered her tasting, sweet and fresh. I didn’t want to stop kissing her, but I knew there were some things I needed to get through first.

“I’ve been eating cookies,” she whispered against my lips, taking one last peck before lowering herself down on her feet, smoothing her hair. A flash of that hair strewn across my pillow and I’m shifting, adjusting myself in that parking lot, out in the open. She has me acting twenty and I can’t say that I hate it.

“What kind?” I asked, thinking I tasted something nutty.

“Pistachio,” she replied, and I licked my lips to renew the flavor of her and the cookie. “You’re early.”

Kissing her casually, greeting her with a tight embrace—I hadn’t realized how much I needed and wanted it.

“I thought maybe we could have an early dinner uptown before going to back to the house,” I offered, realizing if she put too much thought into my plan she’d get suspicious. Then Donny and Melody were there, having crawled out of the back of white moving truck.

“What’s up bro,” Donny nodded to me, and I nodded in return because in the limited time I’d spent around him, I’d learned he wasn’t much of a handshake guy.

“Hello Mr. Bennett,” Melody greeted me formally though I knew she was aware of my relationship with Britta. I’d hoped to get to know her better but with her moving, I knew it would have to happen long-distance.

“Hello Melody, Donny,” and their eyes almost immediately go to my hand, where Britta’s is wrapped around mind. I had noticed she did that as we kissed and it gave me a hard on that I’d already tucked up into my belt.

“Can we say goodbye alone?” Melody pulls Britta from me and Donny leans in, offering me a cigarette, which I decline.

The two of them embrace before they even speak, and Donny nudges me.

“Saw you in the paper, bro,” he says, blowing a puff of smoke above us before taking another deep drag, talking again on an exhale. “That’s a lotta properties you bought.”

Donny reads the paper? I’m surprised. Normally people his age read the news on their phone but the fact that a man who pulls a cigarette from behind his ear reads the investments portion of a newspaper surprises me.

“Is that right? Was there a photo?” I can’t remember the paper telling me they had a photo to run.

“Just your name,” he clarifies, nodding over his sweatshirt to the women. “Recognized it because I heard it from the old lady.”

I nod.

“What you gonna do with all those store fronts?” he asks, dropping the cigarette to the ground and smashing it with the top of his sneakers. Donny surprises me again. He’s read the entire article, not just the headline.

It’s true, Bennett and Barrow just bought an entire strip mall in the most populous area of downtown Bridgeport, Connecticut. The businesses that were in the strip mall were told they could remain there for the time being. When I’d pitched it to Barrow, he’d grown to trust my investment senses so much that he didn’t even question what I’d planned for the individual businesses or the space in general. I’m glad he didn’t because I didn’t even really know what my complete plan was, not yet.

All I knew is that one of them would be for Britta when and if she wanted it.

She wanted to be a baker and I wanted her to live her dream, after everything she’d been through. She deserved that much and I really did want her to have it, with or without me. The money was meaningless to me but with Britta, it had meaning.

“Keep them, for now,” I say, tucking my hands in my pocket, rocking back on my heels. Something about Donny’s presence makes me profoundly aware of the age difference between us.

He nods pensively, looking at his feet move gravel around. “Gonna wife up Britta and give her a business to run, huh?” his eyes stay on the ground where his dirt-coated sneakers work out their obvious nerves.

“One day, maybe,” I say, feeling shocked at just how close he is to the mark.

I do plan on giving Britta one of any of the locations I own, to open her own bakery, one day when she’s ready. She can hire whoever she wants and run it just as she pleases, as long she wants to.

He looks up at me before the women return and with his voice low, he says: “I won’t say nothin.”

After a few more