Ear Candy

by Carter, M. E.

  “Todd, come rub my back, please? That always makes me feel better.”

  “Girl, if you wanted that kind of best friend, you should’ve hooked up with Brandy Jackson. I’m not stepping foot in there. I love you more than anything, but right now think of me like that meme of the person consoling you with a broom.” Groaning, she returns to her regularly scheduled program while I open and close suitcases until I find hers.

  Rummaging through Aggi’s bag, I pull out a tank top and sleep pants. When the toilet flushes, I toss in the clothes and say, “Brush your teeth and get your sick ass into those clothes.”

  “You can come in,” she says.

  “No way. I don’t need to see your Underroos or, God forbid, your lady business. Plus, there’s a possibility it’s not food poisoning. I have important business to handle and cannot catch whatever you have.”

  The door opens, and she appears with a pathetic look on her face and mascara smeared down her cheeks. If there wasn’t a chance I’d catch some exotic virus, I’d hug her. “To the bed, young lady. Here’s the remote, I’m sure there’s a horribly sappy movie for you to watch on television. Room service will—” I’m cut off by a knock on the door. Excellent. Quickly, I open the door and see not only the room service but a sad looking Spencer. Good grief this guy has it bad.

  “Well, looks like your room service and your lady business service is here. I’m outta here. You two don’t fight over the toilet.” Without another word and like a man on a mission, I skirt around the porter and head for the elevators. I have bigger fish to fry right now—pun intended—than making sure they share the banana and the toilet. I have a date to sabotage and a woman to woo.

  Stepping off the elevator into the crowd, I look around for the blonde waves and red dress. Donna shouldn’t be too hard to find, considering she’s the most beautiful woman here. Or at least she was. Damn. Where did all these people come from? Was the lobby always this full and I missed it? Or is another event about to begin?

  Squeezing through people, I mumble my apologies and keep looking around. I better find her before the fire marshall kicks us out. Or she leaves.

  Oh man, I hope she didn’t leave. With Matthew. Just the thought makes me sneer and want to kick a wall or something manly like that.

  Turning in a circle, I make one last attempt to find her, before giving up. Suddenly, as if the stars align at the exact right moment, I hear a faint “Todd!” over the dull roar of the crowd. My eyes shift to the direction my name came from and I hear it again, louder this time. “Todd!”

  Just as I make eye contact with Donna, she surprises the shit out of me and launches herself into my arms.

  “Whoa there, Donna. Have you been hitting the sauce while I was gone? Or did you just miss me?” I joke, but really, I’m confused by the feeling of desperation that seems to be rolling off of her.

  Arms wrapped tightly around me, she begins rambling. “Kelly Taylor, but not really Kelly Taylor, was saying these things in the restroom and I confronted her and then she and her friend made me realize it was like one of my novels where the heroine realizes her feelings for the hero and it took me so long to realize I’m the heroine even though it’s not really a novel and I had to come find you to tell you.”

  Oooookay. That was the longest run on sentence ever and it did not clear things up for me at all.

  “Who the hell is Kelly Taylor?”

  She pulls backs and gives me an incredulous look. “Kelly Taylor?” I stare back at her blankly. “Brenda’s best friend who slept with Dylan?” Still nothing. “Have you never seen the old school episodes of Beverly Hills, 90210?”

  “Not really my jam there, Donna.”

  “Weird. I thought everyone knew Jennie Garth.”

  That’s the moment the lightbulb goes off in my head. “Oh she was on Dancing with the Stars.”

  Donna closes her eyes and shakes her head, mumbling, “I knew I should have opened with that.”

  “Okay so Jenni Garth was in the bathroom, or maybe she wasn’t. But I didn’t understand the rest.”

  Taking a deep breath, I watch as Donna straightens her spine and looks up at me. Clearly, this is about to be something important. I hope it’s not that she realized she’s in love with Matthew. That would totally suck.

  “As long as I can remember, I have looked to find a life partner that has ticked off certain boxes. Smart. Successful. Handsome.”

  So far, this sounds an awful lot like a “It’s not you, it’s me” speech. Not what I was hoping for.

  Don’t start chopping onions just yet, Todd, I think to myself. You have to be able to see clearly to punch Matthew in the face. You don’t have very good aim to begin with and don’t need your vision to be blurry.

  “I was so hyper focused on what I thought my ideal match was, I missed some very important boxes on that list.”

  I’m so confused now. “Wait, are you saying you’re a lesbian?”

  Now she looks confused. “What? Why do you think that?”

  “You said you’ve been looking for a life partner. I just assumed.”

  “No.” She shakes her head, exasperated. “No, I’m not saying any of this right. For someone who makes a living out of putting sentences together, I’m messing all of this up. Let me try again.”

  She opens her mouth to speak, and of course, Matthew shows up just in time to interrupt.

  “Hey!” he says, a stupid beautiful smile crossing his stupid beautiful face. “I was looking for you. Everything okay?”

  “It’s about to be,” Donna responds, flashing a bright smile at him. Any chopped onions have completely disappeared behind the white-hot rage I’m suddenly feeling. I know Donna can have any man she wants. That’s her right and her choice. But dammit, I really wanted it to be me. “Matthew, I want you to meet Todd. He’s one of my very best friends.”

  And my worst fear comes true right before my eyes and in front of my rival. I’ve been friend-zoned. My heart plummets, but I do my best to save face and hold my hand out for Matthew to shake.

  “Oh yeah. The guy you’ve been talking about all night,” Matthew says, gripping strongly with his stupid beautiful hand. Wait, what? Suddenly I realize what he just said, and my interest is piqued again. “It’s nice to meet you, man. Donna speaks so highly of you.”

  I look at her, feeling a bit off kilter with this new information. She just shrugs coyly. “You’re easy to brag about.”

  “Yeah, Donna was saying you buy all those fun shirts from a lady in your town that’s trying to get a business off the ground. Does she have a website or something? I’m a single dad, so I love supporting other single parents. And my daughter would totally dig some of those tops if she makes kid sizes.”

  Now I’m really confused. And a little irritated. I am not supposed to like Matthew and his love of supporting small businesses. He’s supposed to be arrogant and stuck up so I can hate his beautiful guts.

  “Uh, I don’t think so,” I finally manage to get out. “But I can give you her info to contact her. She’s a little pricey though. Trying to make ends meet and all.”

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Hey, if I’ve been blessed with the means to do things like this”—he gestures around the room at the obvious extravagance of the event.—“I might as well use it to help others. You can’t take it with you, right?”

  No seriously. I’m supposed to be punching him in the junk now for trying to make a play for Donna. I had no intention of finding common ground. Have I been drinking? Did I eat contaminated food too, and I’m hallucinating?

  Fortunately, our small talk is cut off when another person joins our group. Unfortunately, this means I still have no idea what Donna was getting at before we were interrupted, and I’m getting more curious as this goes on.

  “There you are!” the woman exclaims and grabs Donna’s arm. “Have you talked to Hawk Weaver yet? I’m so excited to meet him.”

  Ah. My moment has come. This is where I excel . . . talking. Clear
ing my throat so I can bring Hawk to the surface, I reach my hand out to the woman in question. “Well, hello there. I’m Hawk Weaver.”

  A look of horror crosses her face, and she immediately throws her hands up yelling, “My eyes! My eyes!” She looks exactly like that scene in Friends where Phoebe accidentally sees Monica and Chandler having sex and it burns her retinas.

  I mean, I know I have a face for radio, but sheesh. You don’t have to announce it in front of my arch-nemesis-turned-new-best-friend and woman I’m trying to woo.

  “Ohmygod, Carrie, I’m so sorry.” Donna begins apologizing profusely which is yet another blow to my ego. Good thing I have self-confidence to spare because this is turning into an utter shit show. “Here, turn around and look at Matthew while Hawk talks behind you.”

  Quirking an eyebrow at Donna in question, she appears to have a sudden realization about the current situation at hand.

  “Ohmygod, no!” she blurts out. “This all sounds so bad. Carrie loves audiobooks, but she never wants to see what the narrator looks like. It ruins the fantasy of the character for her.”

  “And yet, she’s at an awards show for narrators?”

  The woman named Carrie raises her arm over her shoulder. “Um, yes, I’m sorry, uh . . . whatever your name is. I kept my eyes closed a lot tonight. I’m sure people thought I was weird, I just have very strong visual images in my mind of characters, and I like them that way. I won’t even see movie adaptations of books because I’m afraid it’ll ruin the perfection in my head.”

  Odd, but plausible nonetheless. And definitely a better explanation than having a face only my mother can love.

  Glancing up at Matthew he shrugs. “Romance readers. Am I right?”

  Dammit. He even nailed my line.

  Clearing my throat again, I say the only thing that comes to mind. “It’s nice to meet you, Carrie. I’m Hawk Weaver. Forget the man you just saw. He is of no importance. Like that guy behind the curtain in the Wizard of Oz, or whatever. Thank you for being a fan. And I hope to never see you again. Because that’s what you want. I think.”

  Carrie’s hands clasp and go to her heart when she lets out a deep sigh. Huh? I was not expecting such a visceral reaction, but at least I know I haven’t lost my touch.

  Looking down when Donna grabs my forearm, I realize she hasn’t finished what she wanted to say to me.

  “Todd,” she begins quietly, “I need to say this before I lose my nerve because the butterflies are fluttering like crazy in my stomach and I might throw up.”

  “Did you eat sushi, by chance?” It’s a legitimate concern. Ask the lovebirds upstairs.

  “No. But just . . . listen.” She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, purses her lips . . .

  And let’s out a shrill whistle.

  I’m stunned. It’s the language of my people. And she said it perfectly.

  Eyes wide, I am singularly focused on her, despite Carrie throwing her hands over her ears and Matthew digging his finger in one ear grumbling “What the fuck was that?”

  No, I can’t tear my eyes away from the beautiful, smart, witty, creative woman in front of me, who just bared her soul to me.

  “You learned bird language?” I whisper, and she nods in response. I need clarification, though. “And you love me? Me? Todd Chimolski with my weird shirts and bird language. You love . . . me? That’s what you said?”

  Another nod. “You, Todd. With your huge heart and your nonchalant way of helping people without a second thought. With your humor and your stellar ability to pick out a good cheese . . .”

  I nod my head in agreement. I do love a good gouda.

  As if in slow motion, we move toward each other, like magnets being pulled together. And I don’t care that I’m thinking like a romance novel because this moment is everything I’ve wanted since I stepped foot in that cabin and Donna tried to go all jujitsu on me.

  “I love you because you tick off all my boxes,” she continues. “But I’m in love with you because you add so many more boxes I didn’t know I had.”

  “I love you too,” I whisper.

  She smiles and nods. “I know.”

  That does it. We throw our arms around each other and the make-out session begins right here in the lobby. My arms tighten around her waist as hers tighten around my neck, and we suck face like a couple of teenagers on the dance floor at prom—without a care in the world and despite the glares from the chaperones around them.

  I’m so engrossed in the feel of her in my arms, knowing she loves me, knowing this is just the beginning of something beautiful, that I barely register Matthew saying, “I think this might be our cue to exit. Care to join me for a drink?” and Carrie answering with, “Normally I’d say no, but under the really weird circumstances, I could use a shot of whiskey. But just know if you hit on me, I’m punching you in the junk.”

  No, I ignore everything around me because I don’t want to ever forget any part of this. It’s quite possibly the best moment of my entire life and I refuse to be distracted by the sounds of people around us saying things like “Aww,” and “That’s so sweet.”

  Because . . . romance readers. Am I right?

  Chapter 29

  Donna

  I’ve always had my best night’s sleep in a hotel room. Maybe it’s the blackout curtains or it could be the huge bed and cranking air conditioner that sends me into such deep slumber that I wake up feeling like a million bucks. This morning, as I slowly open my eyes and stretch my arms in front of me, I give all the credit to the man stirring beside me.

  My body revolts a little as I point my toes and stretch my body. Sore in all the best ways, I smile as I flip over to look at Todd. His dark hair is sticking out in every direction, begging for me to tame it, while the scruff that appeared overnight has me thinking very dirty thoughts. When his eyes open and connect with mine, I don’t bother trying to hide the smile that takes over my face.

  “Mornin’ beautiful.” God, that voice. The early morning raspiness makes my smile turn to a smirk as very sinful thoughts run through my mind. “I see your writer brain running wild.”

  “I love you.” I’ve said those three words to him at least one hundred times since I whistled them in the lobby. Todd smiles at me, one as wide as the grin I was showing just moments ago, in response. His hand slides across my waist and tugs me toward him. Planting a slow kiss on my lips, I melt into him. Thoughts of morning breath, bed head, and last night’s makeup are the furthest from my mind. This man, the way he makes me feel, and how deeply in love I am with him consumes me in every possible way.

  Pulling back, he pushes the rogue hair off my face and grins, “I love you too. God, it feels good to say that aloud.”

  “Aloud?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’ve been whistling it for like two weeks. Come to think of it, I may need to explain my feelings to Bill. And you, my love, need to explain how you learned the language of my ancestors.”

  “Todd, you must know by now, when I’m under a deadline procrastination is my middle name. I watched hours and hours of videos to master three very important statements.”

  Throwing his head back, he laughs before allowing me to continue. “One: tacos are life. Two: yes I would like another glass of wine. And, of course: I love you.”

  Without allowing him to respond, I slip from his embrace and stroll to the bathroom in all my naked glory. With a whistle that simply tells me he appreciates the view, Todd jumps from the bed and joins me as I start the shower. The rumbling of both our stomachs cues me in that it may not be as early in the morning as I thought.

  “Are you ready to do this?” Todd asks as we approach the hostess stand of the hotel’s restaurant. When we got out of the shower and toweled off a few hours ago, I checked the time on my phone and noted we had slept most of the morning away and were quickly approaching lunchtime. I also had two missed calls and three text messages from Aggi. Watching as Todd checked his phone, I knew he, too, had missed her calls.

&nbs
p; Looking up at him, I smile. “It’s our coming out, how could I not be ready?” He lifts our joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of my hand. Seriously, has he always been this perfect? I’m swooning all over the place.

  We’re less than five steps from the table when I hear Aggi say, “You owe me fifty bucks, honey.” Spencer groans, and I look to Todd for clarification. Instead, he shrugs and pulls out a chair for me to sit. Once I’m sitting, he takes the spot next to me and raises a brow at Aggi.

  “Agnes, explain.”

  “I bet Spencer fifty bucks last night that my plan worked. He doubted my mad skills and thus, owes me fifty buckaroos.” She bounces in her seat, a happy dance if I’ve ever seen one. Her confidence and pride are short-lived when she brings her fingers to her lips and swallows. Spencer’s hand goes to her back as he leans in and whispers in her ear.

  “Are you still sick?” Todd asks as he pours water from the carafe on the table into my glass.

  “I’m better but I probably shouldn’t jump around like that. It’s going to be a long flight back to L.A.,” she grumbles as she lays her head on Spencer’s shoulder. “Regardless, I knew you two were sneaking around behind my back. Never doubt the Idaho mountains, folks. They are magical.”

  I can’t argue with her there, so I don’t. Although I seriously question that her “plan” had anything to do with my new and perfect relationship considering Todd’s name hasn’t even come up since we dropped something off at his building weeks ago. Still, I’ll let her have this. Simply because fifty bucks is solid pedicure money and because you can’t put a price on winning a bet with the significant other.

  We spend the next hour catching up and regaling her with the CliffsNotes version of our love story. A time or two she tears up, I actually cry, and Todd tries to play it off like it’s no big deal. When Spencer asks us what we’re doing next, my new boyfriend surprises me with his response.

  “I thought I’d convince this beautiful lady to come spend a little time with me in the Pacific Northwest. Maybe find some new inspiration for a new love story.” His eyes are on me as he speaks, his hand playing with the hair on my shoulder.