Way to Her Heart

chapter 11

When Sherri’s eyes opened, she was so warm and relaxed that she could have stayed where she was forever. She was lying next to Lucas with both his arms around her, holding her as though he never intended to let her go. Her head was resting on his shoulder and she pressed her mouth to his smooth, tawny skin. He kissed the top of her head in return and she sighed happily.

“That was lovely,” she said.

“You’re lovely,” he corrected her.

“You’re sweet. Let’s take a shower.”

In minutes they were in the shower, their soapy arms locked around each other in a tight embrace as they shared a kiss. Sherri’s shower had a teak floor and several showerheads—a huge one directly above the shower, two handheld ones and several smaller ones that hit the torso area. Lucas insisted on turning them all on, even as Sherri protested.

“I hardly ever use the top one unless I’m shampooing my hair...ooh!”

It was too late; Lucas turned it on and her hair was drenched.

“You so owe me, Lucas VanBuren. I’m going to get you for this,” she vowed as she swatted at his hands.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. In fact, I’ll make it up to you right now,” he said.

First, he shampooed her hair, loving the way the thick curly strands felt on his fingers. He also lathered Sherri from head to toe, using his hands to excite her while she became pliant and relaxed. Using the handheld shower, he rinsed all the lather away and gave her a mischievous look.

“I have an idea,” he said. He moved the teakwood bench until it was directly under the showerhead and had Sherri lie down on it. He adjusted the overhead fixture so that it gave a pulsing spray over her torso. Guiding her so that one leg was on either side of the bench, Lucas knelt down and aimed the handheld shower between her silken thighs. Sherri’s eyes opened wide and she giggled from the sensation but the laughter soon turned to moans of satisfaction. Lucas used the various speeds on the handheld to drive her into a frenzy. She loved it. It was a new experience but it was fulfilling, especially when Lucas replaced the shower with his mouth. She was already aroused by the water play, but when she felt his mouth on her most sensitive spot, her body went wild from the twin sensations of the water beating down on her breasts and Lucas taking her into the stars. Her hips moved in sync with the strokes of his tongue. She felt a shimmering explosion that rocked her so hard her legs locked around him and she cried his name in a shuddering scream.

After a lot more water play, she returned the favor, shampooing his hair and bathing him thoroughly before making him sit on the bench. Now it was her turn to drive him crazy with desire. She took him in her hand and moved her fingers up and down as she circled his broad tip with her tongue, gently squeezing and stroking him while she treated his steel-hard manhood like an ice-cream cone, licking and sucking and exploring every part of him. Now it was Lucas who was calling her name, over and over until he felt like he was breaking into a million pieces.

Soon after, they were back on the bed, wrapped in big, pale green bath sheets. Sherri was fussing at him about the state of her hair, but Lucas didn’t see anything wrong with it. She was squeezing the water out of it with a smaller towel, patting it gently. She’d brought a large black jar into the bedroom and when she opened it, a light fragrance filled the room. Using a wooden tongue depressor, she scooped out some of the contents and put it in the palm of one hand. She rubbed her hands together gently before spreading it on her hair and combing it with a wide-toothed comb. Intrigued, Lucas asked what it was.

“Pure coconut oil,” she said. “Haven’t you used coconut oil for cooking?”

“I have,” he said, examining the jar. “But I’ve never thought of it as a hair product.”

Sherri smiled and said, “It’s not just for my hair. I use it all over.” She demonstrated by taking some of the oil, which was white, fragrant and solid, and putting it on her arm. It melted immediately and she began to massage it into her skin.

Lucas smiled. “Come over here, sweetheart, and let me do that for you.”

He massaged the oil onto every part of her willing body and she did the same to him until they were both bearing the faint gleam of the oil and wearing ridiculously happy smiles. Her hair was almost dry, in a mass of tight ringlets that Lucas thought was sexy as hell. He suddenly remembered the wine he’d left downstairs and asked if she wanted some.

“No. All I want is you,” Sherri answered.

“In that case, I’m all yours,” he promised. He removed his towel and she took off hers and it was a long time before they thought about wine or anything else but each other.

* * *

There was nothing Sherri would’ve changed about the days and nights she spent with Lucas. She felt closer to him than ever before, which was a revelation in and of itself. But she also felt calm, happy and relaxed, more than she normally did. Sherri was a very happy person and she had meant it when she told Sydney that the two of them had a great life. She was blessed with a lovable daughter, she had the career she’d worked so hard for and she was able to give her daughter a great life. However, since she and Lucas had become a real couple, she was much happier than she’d been before. She was also physically satisfied in every way, which was another revelation. Until Lucas, she’d had no clue what sex was all about. Now she knew.

She and Lucas spent as much time together as possible, and they took that time to really get to know each other. He was a very open person and really enjoyed talking to her about any and everything. He was also a great listener, and nothing was off-limits for the two of them. She did miss Sydney terribly, but she talked to her every day and she was greatly relieved that she was having the time of her life with the VanBurens. Aside from the strange feeling of not having her precious daughter with her, Sherri’s life couldn’t have been happier, and it showed.

She came to work singing every day—something she didn’t even notice until her nurse, Kayla, pointed it out to her. She had come in early with a big bowl of fruit salad and tiny banana muffins for her staff. She was singing under her breath as she put it in the staff room when Kayla came in with a smile on her pretty face.

“Dr. Sherri, I don’t know for sure what’s come over you, but it’s doing you a world of good,” she teased.

Sherri tried to pretend like she didn’t know what Kayla meant, but the twinkle in her eyes and her broad smile gave her away.

“Are you saying that I’m usually an ogre to work with?”

“No, Dr. Sherri, you’re a great boss. It’s just that the past few days you’ve been extra sparkly or something. It wouldn’t have anything to do with that handsome guy that brings you lunch, would it?”

Sherri finished washing her hands at the sink and gave Kayla an extra-mischievous smile as she dried them. “It has everything to do with him, Kayla.”

Both women laughed as Sherri went to her office to return calls and get ready for her patients. Her hand was on the phone when her private line rang.

“Dr. Stratton, how may I help you?”

“Where have you been keeping yourself, Sherrilyn? You can’t pick up the phone and give your parents a call once in a while?”

Sherri tried hard to keep from making a childish face at the phone, but it was difficult. Her mother, Sybil Stratton, was a difficult person with whom to get along and Sherri had stopped trying to please her years ago. Once her parents found out about her pregnancy they had treated her like a pariah, but Sherri still tried to be a dutiful daughter. After Sydney was born and their attitude actually got worse, Sherri gave up. They had their lives, and she had hers. She would call maybe once a month to say hello, but that was the extent of their communication. Why Sybil was calling her today was a mystery, one that she hoped would be solved soon.

“Hello, Mother. Is there anything wrong?”

“Of course not. Why would you say something like that?”

“Because you never call me,” Sherri said. “What can I do for you today?”

“Well, your father’s birthday is on Thursday and we’re going out to celebrate. We want you to come.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I want you to come to your father’s birthday celebration on Thursday night. So, we’ll expect you and your child at the house at eight.”

“Mother, thanks for the invitation, but Sydney is on Hilton Head with some friends and I’m not going to get her until Saturday.”

“What friends?”

Ignoring her mother’s suspicious tone, Sherri said, “What difference does it make to you? She’s not going to be there, and I probably won’t either. I sent him a card already, so tell him I said happy birthday.”

“Sherrilyn, we ask very little of you so I don’t see why you can’t grant us this little favor and come over on Thursday. You father hasn’t been well and I don’t know how many birthdays he has left. Ordinarily I wouldn’t press, but it’s important to him. Can’t you see your way clear to act like a daughter and cooperate?”

Sherri wanted to throw the phone across the room, but she refrained. “Fine, Mother, I’ll see you Thursday at eight. Is there anything I can bring?”

“Good heavens, no. You know what your cooking does to my digestion. See you Thursday. Please dress appropriately.”

Before she could ask her mother what she meant by that, she had hung up. Sherri’s lips pressed together in a tight line until she realized she was imitating her mother’s standard expression. Whenever Sybil Stratton was annoyed, which was often, her lips would disappear into a line that was so tight, you couldn’t stick a needle between them. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, shaking off the momentary angst that had arisen from hearing her mother’s cool, flat voice. She glanced at her watch and picked up her patient list for the day, putting the phone call completely out of her mind.

* * *

She did mention it to Lucas, who looked mildly curious when she mentioned her parents. They were at his loft, relaxing on the sofa and listening to music. He’d made dinner for her again and it was delicious, like everything he prepared.

“You don’t talk about them much,” he observed.

“My family? No, I don’t. There’s nothing to talk about, really. We don’t have much of a relationship since I disgraced the family by keeping my baby,” she said dryly. She looked at Lucas and said, “My people aren’t like yours, Lucas. You have a warm, loving family. They’re not afraid to show their love and affection for each other. They like each other. I sometimes wonder why my folks had children because they didn’t seem to be too thrilled with us.”

“You have siblings? I thought you were an only child.”

“No, I have a brother. He moved away after he finished college, and I don’t see him often. He lives in D.C. He didn’t want to go into the family business, so he was cut off, too,” she said, making a noise like a knife going through metal as she dragged her finger across her throat.

Lucas looked shocked, and Sherri put her fingers on his mouth. “Don’t say anything, honey. Don’t think about my folks. I don’t. I’ll go and pay my respects, and that’ll be the end of it.”

She gave him a cheeky smile and continued, “Maybe I’ll wear something really tacky and gross like some coochie-cutter shorts and a halter top with platform shoes. Then I’ll say, ‘Oh, you mean this isn’t appropriate?’ I’d love to see the look on their faces if I did that!”

“Do you want me to come with you? Because I will, no problem,” Lucas offered.

“Absolutely not,” Sherri said firmly. “If you meet them, you’ll see what a twisted family tree I fell from and you might get scared off.”

“Who, me? Never in this world, babe. You may not realize it yet, but I’m in it for the long haul, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere except to bed with you.”

“Oh, let’s do,” she murmured. “Let’s go right now.”

Without a word he scooped Sherri up and headed for the bedroom with her giggling all the way.

* * *

Sherri had agreed to make an appearance at her father’s party on Thursday, and she went through with it, even though Alexis told her she was crazy. Alexis had a very low opinion of the elder Strattons because of the way they had always treated Sherri. Alexis’s mother and Emily’s mother had made up for all the maternal loving Sherri didn’t get at home, but it was still a sore spot with Alexis. She took being a ride-or-die girlfriend seriously, and she bore grudges like a champ. After all Sherri had been through she didn’t see why her friend didn’t just cut them off, period, and she said so while she was styling Sherri’s hair before the event.

“Just promise me this—if they say anything mean or do anything crazy, get up and get out. Don’t say anything—just leave. You don’t have to behave like a lady when people are trying to be cruel,” she said hotly.

Sherri gave a short laugh. “I promise I will. I’ll storm out of there like the devil is on my heels. Wow, I love the hair. You outdid yourself, Lexie. How’s my outfit? Is it appropriate?” she asked with a slight twist to her lips.

She was wearing a stylishly cut wrap dress in a deep yellow color that did nice things for her skin color. It had three-quarter-length sleeves and fell to just below her knees. It was one of the dresses she often wore to church, and with her usual minimal amount of makeup and jewelry, she looked stunning.

“You look too good for them,” Alexis muttered. “Come over when the ordeal is finished and tell me all about it.”

“Okay, if it’s not too late.”

* * *

The house in which she’d grown up looked the same as it always had—austere and forbidding. It was so subdued and quiet that it was like living in one of the family funeral homes. In fact, when she was small, she thought they did live in a funeral home because it was decorated in the same style. Heavy satin draperies with fancy sheer curtains hung at all the windows, and stiff, uncomfortable brocaded furniture stood at severe right angles. Dismal-looking landscapes hung on the walls, and everything seemed to be gray, despite bits of color here and there.

Sherri parked on the street because it didn’t occur to her to park in the big circular driveway. That was for her parents and their guests only. She approached the big gray house with the black trim with slow, measured steps, then decided she was being ridiculous and picked up her pace. She rang the doorbell, which seemed silly because it was her parents’ home, but the Strattons weren’t the kind of people you walked in on. So she rang and waited like a stranger until the door opened.

Sybil Stratton greeted her daughter with a little more animation than usual, which should have set off alarms in Sherri’s head.

“Come in, Sherrilyn. Your father will be pleased to see you. That’s an odd color you’re wearing, isn’t it?”

“Nice to see you, too, Mother. You look well.”

Sybil Stratton was a medium woman in every way. She was medium height, medium-sized, medium brown with hair of medium length. There was nothing that stood out about her in any way, but in fairness to her, that was her plan. She wore plain clothes in drab colors because she thought bright colors were vulgar. Standing next to Sherri she looked like a mourning dove beside an oriole. She made no attempt to hug her daughter or shake hands, and Sherri didn’t either. She knew the drill by now.

Her mother preceded her into the living room and told her to have a seat, saying that her father would be out in a moment. Sherri looked around in vain for flowers, gifts, decorations or anything to suggest that this was a party, but she found none. She sat on a hard wingback chair and asked her mother how her father was feeling.

“You mentioned that he’d been ill, and I’m concerned about him.”

Her mother looked puzzled. “Your father is fine, Sherrilyn. Where did you get the idea that he was ill?”

Before she could state the obvious and say, “from you,” her father entered the room. Simon Stratton was tall, lean and quiet by nature. He could have been considered a handsome man if he dressed with a little more style, but Sybil kept him in dull colors to match hers. He was fair-skinned and freckled, with wire-rimmed glasses, and his thin moustache looked faded with all the gray hairs that populated it.

Sherri rose to greet him and wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t hug her or show her any kind of affection.

“Happy birthday, Father. You’re looking well.”

He nodded at her absently. “Hello, Sherrilyn. You haven’t changed. I thought you were bringing your daughter.”

Your daughter. That’s the way they always referred to Sydney. Not my grandchild, my grandbaby or anything affectionate; it was always your daughter.

Sherri explained again that Sydney was visiting with friends on Hilton Head, wondering as she did it why her mother hadn’t explained it to him.

His expression was dour as he said, “That’s too bad because there’s someone here who wants to meet her.”

Sherri was still standing when a tall figure emerged from the dining room. She turned her head to get a good look, and when she did, she was hardly able to speak. Finally she got out a single word: “Trevor?”