Master of Lust-Chapter 226: Jemimah

Chapter - 226

Rick and his father sat at the dinner table, an uncomfortable silence stretching between them, the atmosphere thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. The clink of cutlery against plates was the only sound, a stark contrast to the usual lively chatter that filled their meals.

Rick's father, clearly uneasy, kept his eyes averted, glancing everywhere but at his son. His fingers tapped nervously on the edge of the table, creating a rhythmic beat that only seemed to heighten the tension. He cleared his throat more times than necessary, a futile attempt to dispel the discomfort that hung in the air.

Rick, on the other hand, stared intently at his father, his gaze unyielding and intense, as if trying to bore a hole through him. The tension was palpable, each second of silence amplifying the unresolved questions between them.

"She makes some nice food," Rick's father finally said, chuckling nervously as he tried to shift the focus of their conversation. His laugh was forced, the sound grating against the strained atmosphere. He grabbed his glass of water, his throat suddenly feeling very dry, and took a long sip, hoping it would give him time to compose himself.

Rick didn't let up, his eyes locked onto his father's face, scrutinizing every reaction. "Are you sure there is nothing between you and that girl?" he asked bluntly, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. The directness of the question left no room for evasion.

The question caught his father off guard, and he choked on the water he was drinking. He started coughing uncontrollably, his face turning red from the effort. Rick's concern momentarily overpowered his frustration. He quickly pulled out a few tissues from the box on the table and handed them to his father, who took them gratefully, wiping his mouth and trying to regain his composure.

His old man's face turned red as he struggled to regain his composure.

Hearing the commotion, the girl rushed out of the kitchen, her face etched with worry. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes darting between Rick and his father, clearly alarmed by the coughing and the tense atmosphere.

Rick waved a hand dismissively, trying to downplay the situation. "It's okay, everything's fine. He's just choking a bit. Go back to whatever you were doing," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

Amanda hesitated, her concern for Rick's father evident in the way she lingered in the doorway, her brow furrowed. But she nodded reluctantly and retreated back to the kitchen, casting one last worried glance over her shoulder before disappearing from sight.

Meanwhile, after a few more moments, Rick's father finally settled down, his breathing returning to normal as he wiped his eyes with the tissues Rick had handed him. The redness in his face slowly faded, but the tension in the room remained thick and unyielding.

Rick, however, wasn't about to drop the subject. He leaned forward, his voice low and demanding, the frustration clear in his tone. "Is there something between you and that girl? Were all those words at Mom's grave just a setup for this?" His eyes narrowed, suspicion and hurt mingling in his expression. "Were you laying your groundwork for the moment when I would come across this girl?"

Rick's father looked up, his eyes still watering from the coughing fit, but Rick didn't care. He was too frustrated, too confused by the sudden presence of this woman in their lives. The silence stretched for a moment, heavy and uncomfortable.

"Were you laying your ground work for the moment when I would come across this girl?" Rick's eyes narrowed, skepticism written all over his face.

Rick's father looked up, his eyes watering from the coughing fit, but Rick didn't care. He was too frustrated, too confused by the sudden presence of this woman in their lives.

Once his coughing fit subsided, Rick's father looked at his son with a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. "Rick," he began, his voice hoarse and shaky, "there's nothing like that going on. It is just... she's in a difficult situation, and I offered to help her out. That's all."

Rick's expression remained skeptical, his eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge the truth in his father's words. "So, you're just being a Good Samaritan?" he asked, his tone dripping with doubt. "No other motives? Just pure, unadulterated kindness?"

Rick's father sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "I know how it looks, Rick, but you have to believe me. She needed a place to stay, and I thought it was the right thing to do. There's nothing more to it."

Rick's eyes narrowed, still not convinced. "You brought her here, to our home, without telling me? Do you know how suspicious that looks?"

Rick's father sighed deeply, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Look, Rick, after your mother passed away, I felt lost. I didn't know how to move on. It was like a part of me died with her. And then, when I found Sarah, she needed help. She didn't have anyone.

I thought... I thought maybe I could do some good for once."

He paused, looking down at his hands, which were twisting a napkin nervously. The tension in the room was almost tangible. "It's true that... I didn't think it through, I admit that. I was just trying to do the right thing. She has nowhere else to go, and I thought I could give her a safe place."

Rick leaned back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on his father with a mixture of skepticism and concern. "It's hard to believe, Dad. But if there is something going on between you two, you'd better let me know. Otherwise, I might just make a move on the girl myself."

His father's fist tightened, and a visible frown creased his face. The reaction didn't escape Rick's notice. His father's eyes darted towards the kitchen, where Sarah was busy preparing dinner. The mix of protectiveness and discomfort in his father's eyes was unmistakable. frёeωebɳovel.com

Rick smirked, relishing the reaction. "What's her name?" he asked, his tone probing.

His father reluctantly tore his gaze away from the kitchen and met Rick's eyes. "She doesn't remember her name. There was no identification on her when I found her. So, I... I came up with a name for her. Jemimah."

"Jemimah," Rick repeated, nodding his head slowly, savoring the sound of the name as if trying to imprint it in his memory. He was about to ask more questions when Jemimah walked out of the kitchen, carrying a tray laden with food. The aroma hit him first—roast chicken, savory and rich, mingling with the earthy scent of mashed potatoes and the crisp, fresh smell of a garden salad.

She set the tray down on the table, her movements graceful yet tinged with nervous energy. Her hands were steady, but there was a slight tremor in her fingers as she arranged the dishes. She nervously smiled at Rick, her eyes flicking up to meet his for a brief moment before looking away.

"I made this for you, Rick. It's not much, but I wanted to do something nice. After all, you've been away for so long, and we're meeting for the first time," she said, her voice soft and sincere.

Rick's eyes roamed over Jemimah's figure, taking in the way her white tank top clung to her curves, and her tight jeans accentuated her figure. She had long, black hair cascading over her shoulders, and her skin was pale, almost luminescent in the dim light of the room. She was undeniably beautiful, and there was something both captivating and mysterious about her presence.

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"It would be nice to have a home-cooked meal since you're back home after so long," she added, her tone hopeful.

Rick glanced at the food, then back at Jemimah. She had an air of nervousness about her, but there was also a genuine warmth in her smile. It was disarming, and he found himself softening a bit, intrigued by her presence.

"Thanks, Jemimah," Rick said, his tone softer but still carrying an edge of curiosity and caution. "I appreciate the effort."

Jemimah smiled, a hint of relief in her eyes. "I hope you like it. I made roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a salad. I know it's nothing fancy, but I wanted to make something comforting. I thought you might enjoy it."

Rick's father, trying to lighten the mood, chuckled nervously. "Jemimah is an excellent cook, Rick. You're going to love this. She's got a real talent in the kitchen."

Rick couldn't help but notice the pride in his father's voice when he spoke about Jemimah. It made him even more curious about her, and he wondered just how deep their connection went.

Rick nodded, his gaze lingering on Jemimah. "I'm sure I will," he replied, his curiosity piqued.

As they started eating, the tension slowly dissipated, the aroma of the delicious food drawing their focus away from the awkwardness. Jemimah's cooking was indeed exceptional, and Rick found himself genuinely enjoying the meal. The flavors were rich and well-balanced, each bite revealing a new layer of taste.

Despite the uneasy start, the atmosphere around the table gradually became more relaxed, the clinking of cutlery and the occasional appreciative hum filling the room.

"This is really good," Rick admitted after a few moments, looking at Jemimah with genuine appreciation. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

Jemimah's cheeks flushed slightly, a shy smile playing on her lips. "I don't remember exactly," she said, her voice soft but clear. "I have these flashes of memories sometimes. Cooking feels natural to me, like I've been doing it for a long time. Maybe it's just something that runs in my family or something I picked up along the way."

Rick nodded, intrigued. "Well, whatever it is, you've got a real gift. This is the best meal I've had in a long time."

As they continued eating, Rick's father finally spoke up again, his voice filled with regret. "Rick, I really am sorry for not telling you about Jemimah earlier. It wasn't right of me to keep it from you."

Rick glanced at his father, then back at Jemimah, who was watching them with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She seemed genuinely concerned about the tension between father and son, her eyes flickering nervously between them. "It's alright, Dad. Just make sure we're on the same page from now on," Rick replied, his tone softening slightly.

Jemimah, trying to ease the tension further, offered a warm smile. "So, what do you do, Rick? You must be very busy," she asked, her voice gentle and curious.

Rick shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I have my hands in a few things. It keeps me occupied."

"Oh," Jemimah responded, looking genuinely impressed. "You must be doing really well. I saw the car outside. It looks expensive."

Rick couldn't help but smirk at her compliment, a touch of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess you could say I'm doing just fine," he said, his gaze once again roving over Jemimah's voluptuous figure. He lingered on her curves, the tight fabric of her dress accentuating her body in a way that was hard to ignore."

"So fine."

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