My Boyfriend's Father novel Chapter 3

Valerie spent the day helping Justin sort through the stuff he brought back from his dorm, determining what would go back into his room for now and what he would stuff up in the attic. When she wasn’t helping him, she helped his father in the kitchen, fixing lunch and then dinner. She found herself more and more intrigued with the man the more time she spent with him, and soon, she was helping him with things around the house more than Justin. He seemed so unlike Justin that she had to believe Justin took more after his mother than his father, even in appearance. Justin was tall and lanky, his shaggy dark hair a constant mess even after a shower and combing. He was serious, even during sex, with goals in mind he wanted to achieve, and he followed those plans to the letter, again, even during sex. It kind of took the excitement out of it at times. Not to say Justin wasn’t hot when they fucked; it was just sometimes getting her to orgasm seemed more like something for him to check off a list than getting her to scream out his name because the sex was that damn good. Of course, he was sweet and cuddly, so she could forgive him the other aspects. Sometimes.

She finished washing a plate, slipping it into the sink beside her where Richard picked it up to rinse it off. Chancing a glance at Justin’s father, she highly doubted he did things according to a list, especially sex. “Are you sure I’m not in the way?” she asked, handing him another plate. “I’m happy to go home if I am.”

Richard looked over at her, his eyes widened. “Go home? Are you crazy? You’re the best part of Justin coming home.” He winked at her and then chuckled as he stacked the plate in the drainer. “No, you’re not in the way. Hell, you don’t see Justin here helping with the dishes, do you?”

She laughed, grabbing a glass on the side of the sink and starting to wash it. “No, no, I don’t. He does seem to know when to make himself scarce, doesn’t he?”

Richard laughed again, taking the glass from her. “That he does. But, then again, that’s always been one of his hidden talents. Avoiding manual labor. I’m sure you can break him of those habits, though.”

“Oh, right, no pressure on me,” she said. “You had him for how many years and couldn’t get him to do the dishes. Now, you expect me to get him to get his hands dirty? Don’t think it’s in the cards.”

“No, probably not,” Richard said, and she could hear the merriment in his voice. “Still, a pretty girl like you is sure to be able to get him to do things a crusty old man couldn’t.”

She picked up another plate as she turned and looked at him. “You’re not a crusty old man in any way, shape, or form, and you know it. I was actually surprised that you were Justin’s father, to be honest. You two look so different. He’s tall and lanky, and you’re…”

“Round with a bulging belly?” He winked at her again. He nodded. “Justin always took after his mother. She was a slender woman, taller than most others. I’m just over six feet, and she was almost as tall as me.” He glanced down at his torso, smirking. “I’m more on the thicker side of things.”

“And it looks like it’s all muscle from here,” she assured him, and then blushed that she said it out loud, turning back to the dishes. Yet, she couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of her mouth. “I mean, you’re in great shape, and far from old. Justin told me you’re not even fifty yet. I’m sure women are lining up for a chance to be in those strong arms.”

Richard made a soft laugh. “Well, thank you for your kindness, but no, no one is lining up for anything.” He glanced down at the glass he was drying. “To be honest, since Jean left, I haven’t actually been putting myself back out there. Not that I expect her to come back—or want her to for that matter—I just decided to focus on me for a while, get some things done I’ve wanted to do for some time now. It’s been good not answering to anyone.”

She turned to him, one eyebrow cocked. “And the nights don’t get too lonely?”