Hoping for Forever (The Lottery Winners Book 1) Page 6

  “Mom? Dad? I thought you headed home. Is everything okay?”

  Marsha stepped closer. “I needed to speak with you, dear. Is there some place private we could talk?”

  Scarlett looked at her mother curiously. “Of course. Let’s go into the parlor,” she suggested, leading the way towards the set of double doors that led to the pretty parlor that the sorority sisters used for formal entertaining. Sitting down on one of the formal sofas, she spread her skirt out carefully, just as she’d been taught, then looked at her mother, folding her hands over her lap. “What’s on your mind?”

  Marsha sat carefully on the sofa as well, but she wore an immaculate tweed skirt, also sewn by her own hands. It was copied from a Chanel suit that she and her mother had found in a magazine last summer and looked spectacular on her mother’s trim figure.

  “I am concerned about your future dear,” she began carefully. “This other fellow, Mr. Munroe.”

  Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief. “You don’t need to worry about Mick, Mother. He’s going to become a fabulous writer.” She laughed, shaking her head. “And because he’ll be a writer, he’ll be able to live anywhere in the world, which means that he can live with me when I get hired by the aeronautics agency.”

  Marsha Jefferson blinked, then smiled gently. “Yes, dear. I know that you are eager to get your degree. But perhaps you should consider working for a living as Plan B and focus on the primary goal of finding a good husband. Someone who has a sound, solid future.”

  Scarlett pulled back, shocked at her mother’s words. “Mother, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll get a job. I don’t need to depend on a man to support me.”

  Marsha chuckled softly. “Dear, I know that some women vote now. But let’s be honest, a woman’s place is in the home. We’re made for having babies. Men are created to work. That’s just the way nature made us. We can’t fight nature.”

  Scarlett frowned curiously. “Mother, have you read Margaret Sanger’s writings? She’s…”

  “Do not speak of that woman!” Marsha replied with vehemence. “It is unnatural, what’s she’s doing!”

  “Mother, Ms. Sanger advocates that women should have the right to choose when to have children. Surely you are in agreement with that.”

  Marsha shook her head. “Absolutely not,” she snapped. “She’s saying something about a magic pill and women…” she stopped, pressing her lips together. “Women won’t get married if they have something that can stop them from getting pregnant,” she said with horror. “What’s the point of being a woman if we don’t have babies?” she gasped.

  Scarlett laughed. “Mother, it’s the 1950s. Women are getting jobs and…”

  “Men are the breadwinners of the family. Women are the bread makers.” Marsha snapped, dismissing her daughter’s objections with a wave of her hand.

  Scarlett stopped arguing, knowing that she wasn’t going to change her mother’s opinion. “Regardless, Mick and I have a great future. But…” she looked slightly surprised. “Well, Mick and I haven’t discussed anything.” She thought about the previous night. “We love to talk with each other though and he’s a wonderful, kind, brilliant man, Mother! If you could stay for a bit longer, I could hurry over to see if he might have some time tonight to meet with you.”

  Her mother pulled back. “He’s an automobile mechanic, Scarlett. We sent you to college to do better than that.”

  Scarlett was shocked by her mother’s words. “I am here to get an education so that I can get a good job, Mother.”

  “Nonsense,” she snapped. “You are here to meet eligible men and find a good husband. This…Mr. Munroe…” she said Mick’s name with disdain, “is not an appropriate candidate. He has an uncertain future at best. There is no guarantee that he will ever be published. The best he can offer is a life as the wife of an auto mechanic and you deserve better.”

  Scarlett was shocked. “Mother! He will be published! And if he isn’t, then who cares! Wouldn’t you rather I be happy and in love with my husband than rich and miserable?”

  Her mother ignored the question. “You have your children to think of, Scarlett. Do you really want them to grow up poor?”

  Scarlett was furious. “Mick is an excellent mechanic, Mother! Even if that’s all that he can do, I’ll gladly stand by his side. But I’ll work too!”

  “Women don’t earn enough money to feed their families,” Marsha argued. “Women were made to have babies! Any woman in the workforce is only looking for an eligible husband. I guarantee it!”

  “I don’t believe that. There are women here at school who want to work and aren’t looking for husbands.”

  “No, dear. This sorority exists simply to match eligible females with appropriate bachelors. Men with good futures!”

  Scarlett stood up, furious. “That’s ridiculous, Mother! I’m going to find a job with a company that helps people fly planes and I’ll help them put a man on the moon! Maybe even a woman!”

  “Now who is being ridiculous? First of all, no one is flying to the moon! That’s just…” she shook her head, wondering how her daughter had gotten such crazy ideas. “And secondly, you are getting married, having babies, and raising them to be good, productive members of society!” She stood up as well, smoothing her skirt down. “That will be enough of this talk about…writers and other men. You will encourage Thomas and marry him.” With that, she turned towards the door. “I expect to hear about your engagement the next time you are home for a visit, Scarlett. It’s time you got this other man out of your head. He’s just…a distraction.”

  Scarlett couldn’t believe her mother’s words. “You think I should just…ignore the man I’ve fallen in love with? I should ignore my feelings and marry a man I…I don’t even know?”

  “Of course you know Thomas. You have been attending functions with him ever since your freshman year!” Marsha argued.

  Scarlett shook her head. “We have attended them, but not as a couple. And we might stand close to each other, but he’s never shown any indication that he’s interested in marrying me. Nor have I given him any indication that I would be receptive to that kind of a relationship.”

  “Well, he’s already spoken to your father and your father has given his blessing.”

  “Then you marry him! Obviously, something has been discussed that I’m not privy to because Thomas and I haven’t even been out on an official date, much less talked about a future together.”

  Her mother huffed a bit. “This is a pointless conversation. We won’t approve of a man who has an uncertain future.” She turned and collected her purse from the sofa. “We’ll discuss this further when you have considered all aspects of this issue. You’re a smart girl, Scarlett. I know that you’ll do what is right.”

  Scarlett watched her mother walk away, shocked that her parents sincerely thought she should marry a man she didn’t love, didn’t even have a small affection for. Was that really what they wanted for her life?

  Mitzy stepped into the parlor, a bright smile on her pretty features. “Are you coming for dinner? If so, you need to hurry and get changed. You can’t wear that to dinner, you know.”

  Scarlett looked down at her full skirt. It was nice enough, just a blue skirt with a full crinoline. But Mitzy was right. It wasn’t formal enough for dinner.

  But then again, Scarlett wasn’t really interested in dinner. She didn’t want to eat, she needed to see Mick. She needed…she needed to speak with him. She hadn’t seen him today and, after last night, she needed to know that he was still…Scarlett wasn’t sure what she needed.

  “I have to go,” she blurted to Mitzy and raced up the stairs to grab her sweater. A moment later, she burst out of the house and ran down the street towards the gas station where Mick worked.

  She arrived hot, breathless, and a teary eyed, frantic to see Mick.

  “Are you okay, Miss Jefferson?” Barney asked a little alarmed.

  Scarlett shook her head. “I don’t think I am. Is
Mick…?”

  “Scarlett?” Mick called, coming around the corner at that moment. He spotted her, saw her tears, and tossed the wrench onto the tool counter and hurried over to her. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he demanded, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up to look her in the eye. “You’re not regretting last night, are you?” he asked softly, speaking into her hair so that his boss wouldn’t hear him.

  “No!”’ she gasped. Pulling back, she looked up into his eyes. “You don’t, do you? I mean-”

  “Not a moment of it,” he interrupted. “It was beautiful and special.”

  Scarlett released the breath she’d been holding and leaned her cheek against his chest. “Mick. I’m so scared!”

  “Why?” he asked, his fingers tangling in her hair. A car pulled up to the gas station, but Barney came out. “I got this. Take care of your girl.”

  Mick nodded his thanks and took Scarlett’s hand. “Come with me,” and he led her around to the back of the mechanic’s shop where there was an old picnic table tucked, half-hidden, under the trees. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She sniffed a bit and he handed her a handkerchief. “My parents came to take me out for breakfast this morning,” she began, wiping her tears. “And I told them about you.” She peered up at him through her lashes. “I told them about your brilliant story and my dream of getting a good job.”

  “You know you can do it, Scarlett. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

  She sniffed slightly. “Yes, well, she told me that Thomas had already spoken to my father, asking to marry me. What in the world? Why would he do that? And why would my father give his blessing without even talking to me about it first?”

  Mick stared at Scarlett, everything inside of him ready to search out Thomas the ass and punch his lights out. “You’re not marrying Thomas!” he asserted firmly.

  “Of course I’m not,” she assured him, leaning into him. Mick felt better when she agreed and he pulled her closer. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her.

  “I didn’t know you were seriously dating that other guy.”

  “That’s the thing, I’m not. We’re not! We attend functions together, but we’re just friends.”

  He relaxed, hearing those words. “So you’re engaged to a guy that you barely know and,” he leaned forward, kissing her gently, “giving yourself to me. A bit unorthodox, wouldn’t you say?”

  Scarlett laughed, feeling the tension ease out of her. “Yeah, but it’s your fault.”

  He pulled back, looking at her with wide eyes. “How is this my fault?”

  “You’re the one that taught me to color outside the lines,” and she leaned forward to kiss him.

  The light brush wasn’t enough though and he wove his fingers into her hair, holding her close for a deeper kiss.

  The lights of the gas station turned off and Scarlett peered over her shoulder. “What’s going on?”

  “Barney is closing up,” he told her, looking down into her pretty blue eyes. “I should go help out.”

  “I should get out of your way.” She stood up, prepared to head back to the sorority house.

  “Don’t go,” he urged, taking her hand. “I don’t have much for dinner, but if you’re in the mood for chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, I’m your man.”

  Her grin widened and she leaned into his firm chest. “I think soup and a sandwich would be absolutely perfect, Mick.”

  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and squeezed her shoulders slightly. “Stay here and I’ll come back to get you after I’ve finished cleaning up the shop.”

  She sank down onto the picnic table and watched him walk away, sighing as she noted the confidence in his easy stride. The man was incredibly handsome and so strong, he made her feel secure. Protected. And loved. She sighed as she thought about his instant concern when he realized that she’d been crying and how he believed in her even when no one else did. Her mother didn’t think she could get a job after college. Her father thought she needed a husband to support her. Only Mick thought she could do it.

  She loved him. More and more, she realized all of the amazing qualities in the man that she admired and loved.

  Sighing, she leaned against the picnic table, dreaming about a future with Mick. Two kids, a small house with a great yard and a dog. No cats. She didn’t like cats. They were too independent. She wanted fluffy animals that she could love and care for. Maybe even two dogs. She’d have to ask Mick if he liked dogs. If he preferred cats, she’d learn to deal with them.

  “All done,” he announced, coming around the corner of the garage, startling Scarlett. She jumped at the sound of his deep voice. “You okay?” he asked, taking her hands and pulling her up and into his arms.

  “Yep. I’m really good,” she told him, lifting her face up for a kiss.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She grinned. “Starving!”

  He pulled back and took her hand. “This way to the finest dining room,” he teased.

  Scarlett followed, feeling happy once again. “Don’t worry about my parents, Mick,” she assured him, understanding that she was more worried than he was. “They just haven’t met you yet. Once they talk to you, get to know you, they’ll understand what an amazing person you are.”

  He laughed, shaking his head as he pulled her in closer, putting his arm over her shoulders. “As long as you think so, that’s all that matters.”

  Mick opened the door to his one bedroom place with a flourish. It was bigger than she’d thought, though not by much, and sparsely furnished. It was just a small kitchen with a two burner stove, a slightly rusted fridge, tiny sink, and only a few inches of counter space. He had a tiny table with two chairs that looked like they’d been pulled out of a trash heap, a couch with several carefully sewn patches and over in the corner…

  Scarlett swallowed as she stared at the bed. It was neatly made with what looked like a handmade quilt and several pillows.

  “This is nice,” she squeaked out, suddenly painfully aware of the bed. And her desire to explore Mick in that bed. All over!

  Mick came up behind her and pulled her over to one of the kitchen chairs. “I didn’t bring you up here for that,” he promised, sounding as if he was trying to reassure her.

  “Why not?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  He’d just turned away to open the fridge when her words hit him and he spun back to her. Staring at her.

  When he realized what they were both thinking, he shook his head and turned away. “No. We’re having dinner, then I’m walking you home.”

  He got out cheese and some lunch meat and bread, then pulled a can of soup down from the shelf above the small stove.

  Scarlett watched him, admiring the muscles that flexed underneath the cotton tee-shirt, and contemplated how she could get him to change his mind. She thought about last night, about the beauty of what they’d shared together, and how she wanted to experience that kind of happiness again.

  She knew about sex. Well, a little. But she suspected that Mick knew a whole lot more about it. She shivered, just thinking about all the things he might know.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” he commented, looking at her over his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

  She grinned. “I was wondering if you’ve ever had sex before.”

  The empty pot he’d just pulled from a cabinet tumbled to the floor. He fumbled trying to catch it, but he was too flustered and missed, the metal clanking against the concrete. When he finally grabbed it, he turned and faced her. “Scarlett, what the…” he stopped himself from swearing. “I told you, we’re not doing anything like last night.”

  She laughed and stood up. Walking over to him, she stood on her tip toes to kiss him. “I thought it was the girl who was supposed to be missish about sex?” She wrapped her arms around his waist as she looked up at him.

  “Scarlett, you know this isn’t right.”<
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  Her laughter faded. “I know that you’re very right. For me.” She pulled back. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, I’ll understand.”

  He dropped the pot on the counter and pulled her closer. “Scarlett, you have to know that I love you. I’ve never felt this way about another woman.”

  She brightened. “I love you too. I can’t believe it, especially after our first meeting, but I do. I love you so much.”

  He pulled her closer. “Scarlett, what am I going to do with you?” he groaned.

  She laughed and hugged him closer. “You can show me what it’s like to really make love,” she suggested, turning her face up to his. “I know that you’ve had sex before. And I don’t think it’s fair that men are allowed to have sex before marriage, but women aren’t.”

  He chuckled. “You’re supposed to be virginal and not even think about sex.” He lowered his head, kissing her gently. “In fact, I believe the traditional wife is supposed to not like sex at all.”

  She lifted higher, her heart pounding. “I liked what we did yesterday,” she whispered. “Will you show me more?”

  He groaned, but Mick wasn’t able to resist her allure. “Scarlett, you’re going to have to…” she distracted him with another kiss, her hands sliding up his chest, then down again, pulling the tee-shirt out of his jeans so that her fingers could slide underneath the white cotton. She heard his hiss when her fingers found the warmth of his skin, but continued kissing him, enjoying all of the sensations that were rapidly spiraling higher.

  Just like last night, she pulled her sweater up and over her head before he had a chance to stop her. When she reached behind her to unhook her bra, Mick grabbed her hands. “Scarlett, you’re going to let me do this,” he warned. A moment later, he spun her around, his fingers unhooking the bra and tossing it aside. A moment later, she felt his hands sliding up her bare stomach and she sighed happily, leaning back against his chest. She looked up at him over her shoulder, but he was looking down, watching his hands move over her pale skin. So she looked as well and was startled at how erotic his darker hands looked against her skin. When his fingers cupped her breasts, his thumbs moving gently over her nipples, she leaned her head back against his shoulder as she gasped in delight.