by Billie Dale
“You ready to go?”
Yelling at my who-ha to behave and control herself, I nod. “Let me tell Aurora I’m leaving.”
Turning to cross the room, his fingers wrap around mine stopping me. “She knows. I spoke to her while we walked in. You have great kids.”
Holding up a finger, I grab my purse making sure my keys are inside, rejoining him at the door. We take the short walk to his blacked-out Jeep Renegade with tires so big I’m not sure how I’ll climb inside.
Leading me to the passenger side, I pause as I search for steps to climb into the beast. He opens the door, grips my hips with his large hands. His fingertips grazing the bare skin under the hem of my sweater and lifts me with a minimal effort off the ground before setting me in the seat. I can still feel the burn from his touch ghosting on my flesh while he jogs around the front and climbs inside.
I have no idea what cologne he uses or if it’s him, but sitting on the soft leather, I’m encircled by his scent and fighting against myself to keep from climbing over the console and mounting him like a horse.
We ride in silence for a few miles when I remember he complimented my kids. “Thanks for thinking I have great kids. You must have a secret power, I haven’t seen Aurora smile like that for months.”
He shrugs one shoulder with a hand controlling the wheel. “She’s lost right now. She wishes she could help you, make your life easier, but inside her, a war’s raging. A battle full of teenage hormones, body changes and a tremendous amount of stress because she’s afraid to tell you she misses her dad.”
“WHAT?” I screech. “How...she...how...just...WHAT?”
“Calm down,” Royal says soothingly, reaching out a hand and patting my thigh, “I can read kids; it’s my thing. You have little creatures who like to attack me, and I understand kids, all kids. I don’t know the how’s or the why’s, I just can. I meant it when I said she’s a great kid.”
“You can understand what’s going on inside a kid’s head? My child’s head? Spill the goods, Mister.”
Moving from my thigh he grips my hand, “Give her time, Babe. Let her find herself. She’ll come to you when she’s ready. I promise she doesn’t hate you like you think she does.” With a tight squeeze he finishes, “Be patient.”
With a harrumph, I skip past him calling me babe and all the warm and fuzzies it created inside. Gazing out the window as the world speeds by until my emotions are under control and I’m content with just knowing she doesn’t despise me.
Turning back toward him, “I bet it was fun to be friends with you in high school. Guess you never had to wonder if a girl had a crush on you, huh?”
“I was homeschooled.” His mouth turns down like he’s reliving his education. “I didn’t have any friends until I ran away from home and went to college. I joined a frat. Then in grad school, I met Dex and his brothers. Now I have more acquaintances than I know what to do with. Answering your question, no, I never knew a girl who had a crush on me. College women are harder to read than teens and toddlers. I would like to know if there’s a woman with a crush, here, now, beside me.”
A nervous giggle bubbles from my lips. If he hadn’t taken his eyes off the road long enough to wink at me, I would have thought he wanted an answer. I breathe easier knowing it was a joke.
I watch the trees fade turning to storefronts and restaurants along the main strip of town. We continue until once again trees line the side of the road. My thoughts turn to Aurora missing her dad and how to deal with it.
I hate Nic for what he put us through. He sucked as a husband, but he was a decent dad to the kids when he wasn’t working long hours conning people out of their money. I’m so lost in my own hatred, I forgot they might not detest him like I do.
When I pull myself from the fog, determined to keep my focus on our date, I notice he drove past all the restaurants. Looking back over my shoulder. I question, “You, ah, you missed all the places to get food. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. You like surprises, right?”
“Depends on what you mean by surprise. Is it the ‘here let me show you my knife while I chop you into little pieces’ or the ‘hey Honey, I stole millions from millions of people and now we're broke and I’m going to jail’ kind or...”
“Ok, ok. Stop. I get it. You’re not real big on surprises.” He laughs. “I promise I’m not an ax murderer nor am I a con-artist.” His laugh continues while maneuvering us down a long dirt drive off the main road.
“I’m certain every murderer would tell his would-be victim he’s not one. Your charming, smart, good looking. You’re the perfect sleeping giant just waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting woman,” I respond tilting my head away from him, trying to hold back the smile fighting to tip my lips.
Pulling to a stop then shifting into park, he angles his body toward mine. Leaning so close I can see the gold and brown flecks dancing in his eyes. “Oh, Snow, I want to pounce. Believe me, an attack is on my mind but one you’ll enjoy and beg for.”
My breath stalls. His face is the same as it was on my screen. Eyes clouded with want, lips wet, pink and kissable, only this time his minty breath is fanning across my mouth calling for me to inhale him. Moving to close the small gap between us and fuse my lips to his, he eases back away from me, leaving my mouth lonely, confused and moving like a fish out of water searching for oxygen.
Did I read him wrong? He wanted to kiss me, right? Breathing into my hand to check my breath, my mind races. What the hell? Questions feed my self-consciousness.
Once we exit, strolling a short distance through a canopy of trees along a cobblestone drive until a quaint tiny home comes into view. I do mean tiny, like the show Tiny Houses. A structure the size of a utility shed sits nestled in the forest. Canary yellow covers the outside walls with a small white porch wrapping around the front; it’s barely bigger than the white door in the middle. One section to the right rounded like a tower with a pointed roof, six sides and a bay window in the center of it. Lilac flowers surround the outside permeating the air with their floral smell carrying in the slight breeze, and potted ferns dangling from the porch ceiling.
I glance to each side, searching for the main house, certain a man as large as Royal doesn’t live in such a minuscule place but there’s nothing there.
Leading me by the hand, he climbs the few steps to the white door, inserts his key unlocking it before stepping back to allow me to enter first. I enter the living room taking in the deep mahogany walls and cream-colored carpet just big enough for a small loveseat with a flat screen television hanging on the wall across from it. Beyond the room is a kitchenette with an oak counter surface lining the wall holding a sink basin and a tabletop range with an apartment size refrigerator and two cupboards on top. Off to the right is a spiraling staircase leading up to an open loft area. Behind the stairs is what I assume is the restroom. Beamed ceilings sit inches above his head.
“This is your home?” I don’t have to look far to see everything inside the house, but I’m still in awe, unable to believe this is where he lives.
“Yes,” he answers, puffing out his chest, “Want to see the upstairs?”
Without waiting for my response, he draws me up the spiraling stairs. At the top is an open room with a dresser and a large king-size bed encompassing most of the space. Sitting in the center of the bed is his laptop. I glance from the computer to him waiting for him to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but it would seem the pachyderm sucking the oxygen from my lungs is only present to me.
Still holding my hand, we descend, and he urges me forward passed the couch and into the galley to a wide set of patio doors taking up the entire back wall of the house. Sliding them open we step outside and I can’t believe what my eyes see.
A huge white movie screen stands toward the back of the yard. A patchwork quilt lays spread out on the ground with two wicker baskets sitting on its back corners and two buckets with wine and ice sitting on the front corners. The sun is setting
into the trees casting a glow of twilight with gleaming hues of pink, yellow and orange shining in rainbow beams through the leaves making the grass appear covered with sparkling fairies. To my left with a perfect view of the screen is a wide hammock hanging between two ancient walnut trees. With a few clicks of his phone soft music begins filtering out all around us. He’s set up a whimsical dinner theater and it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.
“You did all of this for me?” I whisper, holding my free hand to my heart beating a wild rhythm in my chest.
Drawing my knuckles to his lips, he breathes out a kiss, running his lips back and forth along my skin. Pulling back enough to meet my eyes, I see the same fire burning from when he gazed at me through my screen. Why is he not bringing it up? Words sit on the edge of my tongue waiting to blurt out, but I can’t until I know for certain he knew it was me.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, urging me to pop a squat on the blanket.
Boy, oh boy am I hungry. Is the main course you or are we saving your cock for dessert? My thoughts turn carnal, but my mouth cooperates. “Famished.”
While he unloads oodles of edibles from the baskets, I listen to the chatter of the animals in the woods. Gossip mongrels, all of them. The birds, squirrels, deer; all of them rambling about Royal having a date in his backyard. The words carrying like the telephone game we used to play as kids, the story becoming more fantastical the further it spreads. I begin to giggle at the audacity of the critters to be so dramatic.
“The creatures in your woods find my being here very...interesting,” I respond to his inquisitive look.
His laugh rumbles out of his chest caressing my ears like a melodic symphony. His face lights and a dimple dents on one cheek, hidden by the smattering of his beard; I want to analyze it with my tongue. I reach a trembling hand to his face, cupping his cheek in my palm and tracing his dimple before running my thumb along his bottom lip. I love the way his beard tickles against my fingers, bristling but soft. His eyes drop closed, leaning into my touch. His tongue swipes out along his lip tasting my finger while a moan escapes his gapped lips. A deep bass filled breath. My vagina begins to dance around in victory like Snoopy, while my brain flashes to our interlude on the web and the sounds of his release.
Son of a bitch, I want this man. Every inch of my skin is alive and itching for his touch, craving the wetness of his tongue and rough rub of his fingers. My girly bits are wet and swollen, begging for attention that doesn’t come from my hand but his. I’ve never been this attuned to my want, never had a physical ache consume me to the point of insanity until now. I’m like a teenage boy who just entered puberty.
Leaving my subconscious to fight it out, like a game of Battleship, with my urge to jump him, each volleying a hit and miss. I turn my eyes to the feast he prepared for us. Sitting in the center of the blanket are two blue and red pizza boxes. Both our paper plates covered with large slices of pie. The steam rising from the cheese and the aroma filling my nose drawing a rumble from my stomach.
A laugh burst free from my lips. “Pizza?”
His cheeks tint, hard to see behind his scruff but blooming high on his cheekbones. “I can’t cook, can’t even boil water. I do have chocolate covered strawberries for dessert, and the guy at the winery assured me this wine goes great with Dominos.” Shrugging his shoulders, he focuses on his hands pouring wine into each of our red solo cups. “I wanted to plan the best date. I knew you’d had luxurious restaurants and dealt with pretentious people. I wanted to stand apart from the masses. Give you something no one else would ever think of. Plus, this provides us with a chance to talk to each other.” Handing me my cup, he holds his up to toast. “To the best first date ever and turning the page to a new chapter.”
I tap my cup to his and bring it to my lips, watching him over the rim. His tongue tips out to sample the liquid, taking my thoughts straight to the gutter before he opens and swallows a gulp. Never has the bobbing of a man’s Adam’s apple been so sexy but on him it is. As the wine moves along my taste buds, the sweetness of grapes mixes with the right amount of tart. Following his lead, I dig into the pizza, agreeing with his wine guy. This wine pairs to perfection with the main course and the strawberries.
I inhale the first slice of pie, suppressing my ravenous libido by stuffing my face. The sauce and cheese filling my mouth are almost orgasmic. Working on my second slice, my eyes keep glancing back to his minuscule abode. I’m struggling to understand why he would want something so small. “Your house is adorable and efficient, but isn’t it kind of cramped?”
“Everything I need is at my fingertips. I grew up in a cold mansion filled with silence and vast emptiness. When I began looking for homes, I wanted something small, a place where my voice didn’t echo in the loneliness. I couldn’t find anything on the market, so I built my own.”
My heart breaks for the lonely little boy he was. I can’t imagine not being immersed in my kids lives. The pride for his home can’t me missed.
“You built this?”
With a nod of his head, he smiles. “I watched the show on television and I loved the way they were able to provide all a person needs in a little space. A buddy of mine had the land for sale, so I took the leap. And after tons of Google searches and many questions to the local lumber yard, I figured out how to do it myself. Then I decided, I could do this for other people, so I threw my business degree out the window and started working with my hands and my brain.”
“I’m impressed. I think the kids and me would kill each other being stuck this close to each other, but they’ll be going off to college soon so a place like this would be perfect for me. Definitely beats living in the basement.”
“Your place is kinda depressing.”
Placing my food back on the plate, I take a swig of wine considering my response. “After it all blew up, I had nothing. No job skills or experience, no home, no money and two teenagers. To be honest, I figured Hilde would slam the door in my face. She never did like me, but I think she took some sick satisfaction in me begging for a roof over our heads. We were only supposed to be there temporarily; a few months has turned into a year.”
Drawing in a deep breath I tap into the dark memories of Nic, explaining how we met and the way our life progressed. “He hid so much from me. I still don’t know the extent of his dealings or where he hid the money. Lucky for me, it’s cheap to file for a divorce in prison. It’s the only honest thing he ever did for me.”
Pulling myself back to the present, “But my friend Elsabeth and I have a plan and hopefully, in a few more months the dank cellar will be a distant memory.”
Reaching across the blanket, he wraps a large hand around mine. I feel the callouses I hadn’t noticed before, and my subconscious perks up wondering how the rough would feel on my softer parts. I order the horny bitch inside back in her box before I miss what he’s saying.
“I’m sorry you went through so much shit. Your ex needs his ass kicked for doing all that to you. I know my words aren’t going to fix anything, but I would like to help if I can. Tell me about your plan.”
Here’s your chance to come clean.
I lay everything out. Elsa’s idea for a bar with all the enticing entertainment. Chickening out and omitting the way we’re making the cash to fund the endeavor. He still hasn’t given any inclination he knows it’s me behind the mask. I hate the voice in my head telling me he’s a whore dog with no originality when it comes to pet names for women.
Summoning all my courage, I ask, “Do you date much?” Hoping to open the door so we both can come clean.
His face lights with a mischievous glint before he responds, “No.”
One word is all he gives me even though his face offered so much more. He’s quick to change the subject.
“How bout I contact my friend in real estate and see if I can help you get a good deal on the building? Plus, I’ll offer my services now for any renovations you need to be done but it’ll cost you.”
Here i
t is, here is where he’s going to bring it up. Yes, thank you, Jesus.
My eyes rise in question prompting him to name his price.
“I want to see you again.”
“And? How do you want to see me?” Naked, spread eagle, with your face between my legs? Why yes, me too.
His mouth angles up in a sexy smirk, making his dimple pull in. “Like this. Let me continue to take you out or bring you in since we didn’t go anywhere. Movies, dinner, conversation, I want to spend time with you.”
“We have been spending time together,” I remind him.
“I mean exclusive time. Not-so-friendly time. Kid free time.”
My mind chimes in, ‘naked time’ but my head nods in agreement. While my libido huffs like a raging bull, screaming for me to jump him. I’m so confused, my inside playing tug of war, fighting to push words out of my mouth. Did I hallucinate my experience with him on the web? Does he have a doppelgänger who likes to call women Bright Eyes?
I feel a flush crawl across my skin. “I’d like that.”
A few squirrels ease toward us, drawn by the smell of the food. Their little voices begging for scraps and explaining how Royal always offers them leftovers. He eyes them skeptically as his last interaction with squirrels left him choking. I take two pieces tearing it into bites and slide the plate toward them, making them promise not to spread the word before they dig in. The last thing I want is half the woods swooping in while we’re enjoying our date. Clapping their small paws together, they grab all the pieces and hurry back into the cover of trees. For the next few minutes, I listen to see if they’re going to keep their word and when they say nothing about who his date is, I know they were being honest. I hope this is a step toward me being able to trust them again.
With the sun fully set and darkness surrounding us, broken only by a few Japanese lanterns, we tuck all the food back in the baskets, so we don’t draw any more animals out. He turns to me asking what movie I want to watch, offering up genres like action, horror, biography, and pleading with me to not choose romance. We agree on Deadpool, enough action for him and Ryan Reynolds bare backside for me. Plus, it’s hilarious and a movie I can watch again and again.
