by L. B. Dunbar
Dinner proceeds with a toast to Giant and Letty, and their happiness. Letty recently moved to Blue Ridge with her baby son, and the potential for more grandchildren has my parents thrilled. We learn that Letty and Giant are to be married in the fall up on the ridge, and I’m pleased for my eldest brother. He desires happiness after all he’s been through in his fifty years.
As dinner continues, my mother goes into full matchmaker mode with questions for Alyce, linking her answers to connections with me.
“You love sports, right? Charlie loves sports as well. He played baseball in college.”
“You love to read? Charlie’s an avid reader of nonfiction. He loves history.”
“You love children? Isn’t Charlie’s Lucy adorable?”
It’s so obvious and ridiculous. Poor Alyce. She wears a weak smile beside me, knowing the routine and also knowing we already know these things about one another. She isn’t from Blue Ridge. Much like Janessa, her history is a mystery, but she’s been here a decade and worked with Mati and the high school girls’ volleyball team almost as long. She’s more little-sister’s-best-friend than of interest to me, but I humor my mother and try not to make Alyce feel any more uncomfortable than things already are.
The real discomfort comes when Ford Bernard asks if I’ve decided to run for Congress.
The table quiets, and I feel a pleased stare from my father and a concerned one from my mother.
“This could be just what the Ridge needs,” my father states, the business wheels turning in his head.
“You’re a real shoo-in for this, Charlie. You check all the boxes. We could use someone like you climbing the ranks,” Ford adds as my father and him tag team.
There it is again. The political ladder, only I’m perfectly happy where I am. I have a good home, a solid job as both lawyer and mayor, and it makes Lucy happy to be here. My eyes seek hers, but her head is lowered to the table. She knows what it means if I accept. She’s already been through it with her mother.
“I’m still undecided,” I say, playing the political game, but Lucy looks up at me, her eyes pleading with mine. She won’t tell me not to run, but she’s already been through enough with Angela’s previous campaign. My ex-wife’s brand premise is that of a single mother, only she forgot to mention she hardly sees her daughter.
For some reason, I turn to Janessa next, who sits across from me, finding her gaze on me as well.
“It’s a very public lifestyle,” she states, which seems like an odd comment. She reaches for her glass of wine and lifts it to her lips. Whoever she is, she has grace. The few times I’ve watched her walk, she moves like fluid water. She drinks her wine like it’s a seduction of the glass at her lips. Her throat rolls, and I remember sucking at the delicate skin. Her lips curl over the rim of the flute, and I wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around a hard and desperate part of me under the table. When she removes the glass from her mouth, her tongue peeks out to clear her lip, and I’m ready to burst. My skin crawls. My fingers twitch. I need to touch her.
“Charlie,” my mother interrupts my thoughts. “Perhaps, you and Alyce could bring out more champagne. We have much to celebrate.”
My eyes leap back to Janessa, and she smirks. She doesn’t miss my mother’s intentions. Turning to my mother, she asks about a restroom, and Mother directs her to one off the den or another one on the second floor at the top of the stairs. Janessa stands at the same time Alyce and I do, and Janessa’s eyes meet mine.
“I’ll grab that champagne,” I tell my mother, stepping back from the table and allowing both women to step forward.
9
Bathrooms Are Meant for Privacy
[Janessa]
What am I doing here? I place my hands on the second-story bathroom windowsill and gaze down at the pergola covered in wisteria and miniature white lights. It’s a beautiful setting with a long dining table and a lovely family, celebrating the arrival of Letty Pierson and the question of Charlie’s running for Congress.
I’m undecided, he said, but his brown eyes sparked in the candlelight of the table. He wants the challenge. If his ex-wife is a senator running for re-election, they must have been a real power couple when they were together. She was certainly not arm candy to him.
My eyes fall on Alyce Wright who re-enters the backyard. She isn’t necessarily arm candy either, but rather small town in a sweet and bubbly, blond hair in a curly bob kind of way, and a smile that forces you to grin in return. She’s nice and perfect for Charlie. And his mother knows it.
I sigh, pressing back from the window.
I don’t need to be involved with him anyway. I wouldn’t want the public exposure.
Still.
I like what I know of him.
He’s devoted to his daughter as she’s the first person he looked at when Ford Bernard mentioned Congress. Plus, I still remember him picking her up, soaking wet from the pool, and pressing her against his expensive, crisp suit without a care. He’s athletic and sweet as I learned the night we had batting practice, and he cares about his community. He’s a good man with a naughty streak.
My body hums as I recall him driving into me both against a fence and on his desk. I shiver and close my eyes. I need to stop thinking about him. I’m not the right person for him.
The doorknob of the bathroom twists.
“Just a minute, please,” I call out, needing another deep breath before I face their beautiful family, sharing in celebration of one family member’s happiness and hoping to settle another’s—Alyce with Charlie as the next congressman.
Suddenly, the door unlocks from the outside, and it swings open.
“I said—” My mouth hangs open as Charlie presses the door inward and then reaches above the frame outside the opening, tucking something above the door’s trim.
“When Mati took too long, hogging the kids’ bathroom, we used this to pick the lock.”
“That’s so mean.” I chuckle.
“That’s what brothers do when they have a sister.” Their sister isn’t present at this dinner because she’s on a summer road trip of a lifetime with her fiancé.
“What are you doing?” I whisper as his presence forces me back into the bathroom, and he closes the door behind him, locking it at his back.
“How are you?” he asks.
“Oh, now you want to speak with me?” Charlie hasn’t said more than casual words to me all night. No matching of special interests like his mother so blatantly attempted with Alyce during dinner.
“You’ve been avoiding me as well.” He glares at me.
I turn my back to him, looking out the window again but no longer close enough to see down into the yard.
“Charlie, we shouldn’t do this,” I whisper, crossing my arms around my middle. I feel the heat of his chest at my back as he steps up to me. He had a suit coat on earlier, despite the warm evening, but he’s removed it and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, giving off a more casual appearance around his family.
“What shouldn’t we do?” he asks, his voice at my ear as his hands come to my hips. The material of my dress hugs my body. It’s summer weight, so thin and smooth, and the warmth of his hands radiates through the fabric.
“Charlie,” I murmur, closing my eyes as the tip of his nose drags around the shell of my ear.
“I shouldn’t kiss you,” he moans before his mouth comes to my neck. He brushes my hair aside, sucks at my skin, and I lean into him, melting a little at the soft suction.
“I shouldn’t touch you,” he growls as his hands skim over my belly and easily slip under the fold of my wrap dress, feeling the coolness of my skin under the heat of his palm. His hand lowers over my front and curls between my thighs, instantly finding the dampness which pools on my lacy thong.
“I shouldn’t fuck you,” he states, his voice deep and rough as he pushes aside the thin strap and shoves two fingers into me. I lurch forward, catching myself on the windowsill. Hidden by the plantation blinds, I force my
backside against Charlie, and I gasp as his fingers invade me, filling me.
I shouldn’t want this, but I do.
“Your family has plans for you.” I state the obvious. Alyce. Congress.
“And I have plans for you.” His belt unbuckles, and I close my eyes, hating that I want him so much.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” I whisper. His family is downstairs. They’re probably waiting on him.
“Here is the perfect place. You’re the perfect place,” he growls as his hot tip slides between the seam of my backside over my dress. Heat simmers off him through the material until he lifts the skirt portion of my dress, flipping it up my back, and then settles just outside my entrance where his fingers still work me. His other hand curls over my exposed butt cheek, smoothing over the globe. His fingers twitch, and I wonder if he’ll spank me.
“I think your mother has other ideas of perfect,” I say, my breath still hitching with anticipation as he teases me.
“I don’t want to discuss my mother right now,” he groans, leaning forward and nipping at my ear.
“What do you want?” I question. Although I don’t want his answer, especially if it involves Alyce Wright or being a congressman.
“This,” he states, rapidly removing his fingers and then surging into me with his thick dick. I gasp as I pitch forward, but he catches me with an arm around my waist, tugging me back to him as he fills me. My backside hits his lower abs. He hammers back and forth, delving deep as we both struggle for air. His fingers return to my clit, and I whimper.
“Shh,” he whispers. “You need to keep quiet.”
I hate feeling as if I’m his secret, but then again, I know all about secrets as I’m keeping several from him.
He isn’t wrong about haste and silence. I bite my lip and meet him thrust for thrust. He’s the one losing his grip on noise as he grunts with each smack of our skin, and the suction of us working in tandem fills the small room.
“Nessa.” When he whispers my nickname, I break, stilling over him as my orgasm rushes forward. My thighs clench together as my channel holds him in. Pistoning into me, he rubs against me in a most delicious manner that brings him to the edge. He slams into me one final time, and my hand slaps at the blinds for balance as he jets off inside me. We shouldn’t keep doing this…any of it. No condoms. Random places. Delicious positions.
“Charlie, you didn’t use a condom again.” This makes three times, and I don’t know why I’m mentioning it.
“You said you were on the pill.”
“Yes, but aren’t you worried about—”
“I’m not worried about anything,” he cuts me off, suppressing my fear.
Both his arms wrap around my waist as he lowers his chest to my back in this bent position. His mouth comes to the nape of my neck, and he kisses me. Tender. Intimate.
“I’ve missed you,” he admits, and my eyes close again. I’ve missed him, too, but I can’t have him.
“We can’t do this,” I say, steeling my heart to his body wrapped around mine.
“You’re right. It’s dangerous with you as an employee.”
That wasn’t what I meant, but he stands and slips out of me. A cloth comes between my thighs as he cleans me. Once removed, I straighten my dress and turn toward him. He’s tossed the towel into the bathtub, and he’s already righting his shirt.
“I’ll let you go first,” he says, and my stomach roils. Am I his dirty little secret? He’s keeping his eyes averted, and I wonder what his thoughts are. Does he really think I’m just a good fuck? An office dalliance? Is that all he sees in me?
I don’t care, I tell myself as I brush past him and yank open the door.
“Well,” Billy says, his eyes on me and then glancing over my shoulder.
“Fuck,” Charlie mutters under his breath.
“What are you kids up to?” Charlie’s brother asks as his girlfriend stands behind him. Roxanne McAllister has wild white and silver hair and these gray exotic eyes that soften as she looks at me. A hand covers her mouth as her fingers curl on Billy’s shoulder.
“Billy,” she warns.
“What are you doing up here?” Charlie asks, a grizzly grumble to his tone.
“Seems I have the same idea as you,” Billy teases. “I’m getting a room like you suggested.”
“William,” Roxanne gasps, swatting at his back as she presses her forehead against his shoulder.
“Billy,” Charlie warns. “It isn’t what you think.”
I hold my head higher and draw my shoulders back as Roxanne lifts her head and meets my eyes. It’s exactly what they think, sort of. My eyes shift to the side, unable to face her or my shame for more than a second.
“Charlie,” Roxanne softly admonishes.
“If you’ll all excuse me,” I say, stepping into the hall without any other explanation. Billy steps to the side, Roxanne following his movements.
“Didn’t need that poster after all, did ya, big brother?” Billy teases behind me as I round the bannister and step down the first stairs. I have no idea what he means.
“You’re an ass,” Charlie states somewhere above me as I descend.
“Nah, seems like you are,” Billy says to his brother, and I bite my lip to prevent the hysteria bubbling inside me. Laughter would be preferable to the tears stinging my eyes, but neither action seems acceptable.
10
Walkability
[Janessa]
I don’t have a choice but to face Charlie a few days after the romp in his parents’ bathroom. He’s my boss, and I have things to discuss with the town council.
“As I said, I’ve run some numbers, and I’m proposing a one-million-dollar venture for a walking trail.”
“A million dollars to walk along the woods?” Wyatt Hubner states. He’s a portly older man who remembers the good ole days when men were men and women stayed in the kitchen. He has definitive views, and one of them is that the town does not need any exercise landscape.
We have thousands of acres of wildlife around us. Why do we need a damn park?
“Walkability is—
“Walka Billy who?” Wyatt interjects.
“Walkability is a means of transportation by making a city more walkable,” I explain. “Walking is good exercise.” I tip a brow at his weight, and he blushes. “The budget is actually a modest estimation, but it could yield double that in revenue for local businesses. I’ve researched similar sized towns for comparison. In addition, I’m recommending a community center. You don’t have one here, and there’s an old church—”
“A church?” Bryce Norton snorts. Bryce is a decent-looking man, roughly in his forties, but I have yet to learn what exactly he does in the community. “You can’t make a church into a playground.”
“I’m not suggesting a playground within the church but perhaps outside of it. The First Church just outside of town happens to be for sale, and—”
“How can a church be for sale?” Gretchen O’Leary interrupts. She’s a friend of Elaina Harrington, and her presence on the town council results from being a wealthy woman without much else to do with her time. Her family owns the local funeral home. The congregation of First Church inherited land upon the death of a well-to-do parishioner, and the worship community decided to build a larger, more accommodating facility on the donated property. The former church is now up for sale. Well, the property at least, but the building is still a decent structure.
I ignore Gretchen and continue. “Based on its location, it’s just off the town proper and an excellent place to start the trail as well as become a community center. It’s a beautiful structure but in need of some TLC and—”
“And who is going to provide the tender loving care?” Wyatt huffs.
“There’s a major construction company in town. Duncan Construction. They also own Duncan’s Hardware and Lumber.” I’m stating facts the council members already know.
“We are not putting a town project into that three-ring circus
,” Gretchen comments, and I’m lost. I glance at Bryce for clarity.
“Milton Duncan is Rehab Dad.”
I stare at him. “Who?”
“Rehab Dad. It’s a television program on HGTV. Milton Duncan along with his brother, Griffin, fix up old homes or foreclosed properties and broadcast the progress,” Charlie explains without glancing in my direction. Stating this information flatly, he continues to gaze down at a pad of paper resting on his lap. He sits casually with an ankle crossed over his knee, and his tone suggests I’m ridiculous for not knowing they have a budding celebrity in their town.
“Like Nailed?” I question, mentioning a famous home improvement program, and Charity nods without glancing up at me. “Maybe Mr. Duncan will donate his time,” I state, sitting straighter in my seat.
“We aren’t a charity case,” Scarlett Nugent comments, speaking for the first time.
“I didn’t mean to imply we were.”
“We?” Charity Bernard mutters under her breath, emphasizing my newness with a snort or perhaps because I’m an outsider. I’m beginning to think Sally Maywood, the person who held this position prior to me, wasn’t antiquated in her ideas but hit with stumbling blocks at any suggestion she made for recreational improvement. I glance back at Charlie for support, but he doesn’t look up, and I’m baffled. Proud of his town, he’s the one wanting interactive improvements.
Whatever’s on that damn piece of paper must be fascinating.
He hasn’t looked at me during most of this meeting, and I’m actually surprised he’s present. Town council issues don’t necessarily dictate the mayor’s attention, but then again, he seems to be everywhere. As this is a budget and proposal meeting, I suppose it makes sense he’s here, but I wish he wasn’t. I wish I didn’t have to feel him ignoring me or fight how I want to ignore him…and lose the battle. My eyes drift to him again, but then I notice Charity Bernard staring at me.
She’s a bland woman with brown hair and blue eyes. Her outfits scream uptight. I suppose with a name like Charity, she’s sweet at the core. As one of three Bernard sisters—Faith, Hope, and Charity—I met her father the other night at dinner at the Harringtons. Ford Bernard not only owns a local Christmas tree farm but he’s also a prevalent judge in the area. He wanted boys, and that’s evident by the way he moseyed up to Charlie at dinner the other night. He wants a congressman from this community, and if I’m not mistaken, he has his sights set on his daughter being a congressman’s wife.
