Alecia kissed her family goodbye and rushed onto the plane, finding her seat in first class. The amethyst earrings Ryder had given her for Christmas dangled from her ears, matching the necklace that looped around her neck. Hopefully, he’d like the cute purple dress she had bought to accent the jewels. In her hands she held her other gifts: a Kindle packed with clean romance novels and a copy of a ticket to New York City, so she could meet his family. Alecia turned on the Kindle, tapped on a book that she had wanted to read for many months, but she rested it in her lap. Three days they had, and then two weeks before school started again. Soon, his lips would caress hers, his hands would run through her hair. Soon he would be all hers again. Alecia walked down the tarmac and stopped as a smile spread across her face. Ryder stood at the end holding one white rose. She flung her carry-on over her shoulder, and ran to him, throwing herself into his arms as he spun halfway around, pulling her as close to him as he could. He set her feet on the floor, pressing his lips onto hers. “Man, we need to get married this summer,” he whispered into her ear. She nodded as she played with the hairs on the back of his neck. They did need to get married soon; the separation had about killed her. All she could think of was him and count down the days until she could hold him again and love him the way he deserved. She snuggled close to him in the limo that would take her to his family’s home. It was her first time in New York City, but she didn’t want to look at the tall buildings that encompassed each side of them, the people walking down the streets or the attractions on the sidewalks. She only wanted to look at him, and allow herself to be completely mesmerized by his beautiful blue eyes. She wrapped her arms around him just as her phone began to vibrate. It was probably her father, checking up on her. She would call him later. Moments later, Ryder's phone vibrated. Alecia kissed him on the lips, letting the intense emotions only he could produce rise in her as he reached for it. He looked over her head as he answered it. He laughed, moving his face from her lips. “Yeah, she made it in one piece and I have my eyes locked on her.” He said goodbye to her father and hung up. “Missed me, huh?” He laughed and pulled her into his arms. Her mind swirled as his lips found hers. This was what she wanted, and nothing else, just this moment of peace in his arms. The limo slowed to a stop. “We’re here,” he whispered - his lips brushing her ear. Alecia turned from Ryder to the window. She rolled it down and stuck her head out. Her eyes opened wide. She was expecting a mansion, but she wasn’t expecting this: an Old Englishstyle mansion, built with white stone, and brown shutters. Jane Austen would have lived in a house like this. The limo had pulled up around the curve of a driveway made of cobblestone. The driver reached for the handle. “Ma’am.” “Oh.” Alecia stuck her head back in the car, and the door opened for her. She slipped out and turned to Ryder, who stood with a slight smile on his face. “Your house. It’s old looking.” “It is. It was built in the 1700s by the George.” “The George?” “The George Sheriff Hendrix. The first Hendrix in America.” “A great-grandfather?” “Yeah.” "You're father was named after him?" Ryder nodded again. He walked up close behind her and placed his hands on her hips as he bent down and whispered, “it will be ours someday.” Her whole body warmed. She would be living here someday as the mistress. It would be like she was royalty. He kissed her cheek. “Come.” He took her hand and led her up the stairs to the front doors with a gold ‘Hendrix’ plaque which split when the door was opened. The house had a spacious opened foyer with an oakwood grand staircase that led to the second floor. A dark burgundy red carpet accented the light cream color walls, bearing paintings of the family and gold lamps. What must Ryder have thought of her home in light of his? He had shown no dislike, but, then again, he wasn’t like that. Ryder led her to the parlor. Sitting on the couch with a book on her lap was a small, frail woman, who had shoulder-length pale blonde hair with tips that curled out. “Mother,” Ryder said. The woman put the book down. “Hello, son.” She stood from the couch, came to them and slowly kissed him on the cheek. Alecia knit her brows. Mrs. Hendrix kissed her son like it was a formality instead of greeting her beloved first born. Alecia shook her head. She shouldn’t be too judgmental not every family was affectionate as her own. “This is Alecia,” he said, placing a hand on the small of her back, nudging her forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. Alecia shook her cold, frail hand and stared into her empty light-blue eyes. Something flickered in them – something like a warning. A chill rippled over her. Alecia shook her head again as if to dismiss the feeling. She was just seeing things; had to be, but his mom seemed like a shell – void, empty, with no emotion. Could she have a mental problem or something? “Come, sit with me,” she said. Ryder led Alecia over to the couch and sat on a chair opposite them. His mother asked her a couple questions about the trip and her own family. Mrs. Hendrix spoke in a quiet, almost subdued voice and her face had a downcast look, as if there was no energy left in her. Ryder soon took over the conversation. He told his mother how they met, and Alecia would fill in the holes of his story, but Mrs. Hendrix would only half smile and say, “that is nice, son.” Mrs. Hendrix opened her mouth, but clamped it shut when the door to the room opened. Ryder sprang to his feet, and placed both hands in front of himself. Alecia tried to stand up to go to his side, but Mrs. Hendrix placed a hand on her arm. From behind the door walked in a tall man in a suit, with gray eyes, and a wrinkled brow. “Hello, son,” he said – his voice held a steady monotone. “Father, I want you to meet Alecia.” He turned his eyes to her. Alecia took a deep breath and squeezed the cushion of the chair. The man was an older version of Ryder except for the coldness in the eyes that pierced through her. “She is lovely,” he said. Ryder smiled and held out his hand for her. Alecia inched off the couch and stood next to him. She clasped her hands together. Her fingers were so cold. Why did his father unnerve her? But it wasn’t just him, it was both Ryder's parents – they came off cold as if they didn’t care she was here. Mr. Hendrix held out his hand like he was asking her to dance. She placed hers in his – feeling the smooth skin that engulfed her fingers. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said. She swallowed hard, but the lump remained in her throat. “It’s nice to meet you, too, sir.” “Very polite.” He held up her arm and looked her over, making her feel like a horse being assessed for its worth. She glanced at the perfect row of teeth, but his eyes caught her. They didn’t smile back, but held a fixed glare. He didn’t even try to hide his displeasure. The smile was a ruse. “How was the trip?” he asked. She took a deep breath. Just be polite, and perhaps she could win him over. “It was fine sir, took a little bit.” He nodded. “I thought we would go out to lunch. Do you like Italian?” “Yes, sir.” “Good. Let’s go.” He turned and walked out the door, leaving everyone to just stare at his back. He was an odd man.