by JB Salsbury
“I wouldn’t say we’re friends.”
Her eyes narrow as she goes back and forth between Ben and Jesse. “Wait a second, are you guys related?”
Jesse cringes.
“Holy fuck…” She mumbles.
I drop my chin and groan. “Put her in church and it’s like the switch on her garbage mouth gets flipped.”
“They’re just words,” Jesse and Ash say at the exact same time.
“Great. I should’ve known you two would hit it off, you’re the same freakin’ person.” I stand and scoot past Ash to get out of the pew, grateful Jesse let me go so I won’t get stuck when the bolt of lightning comes for them.
“Hey, Beth, wait up.” Wyatt comes jogging up the side of the church. Suzette is still with Ben. Wyatt stops in front of me and smiles. “Let’s get together sometime soon.” His gaze darts to his fiancée then back to me.
The question is so shocking, I almost stumble backward. “Me?”
He nods. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something.” He eyeballs Jesse, and I follow his gaze to find the multi-billionaire rock star staring right at us.
Ashleigh is at his side and glaring daggers at Wyatt.
“I… guess so?”
“Cool. I’ll text you.”
“’Kay.”
He walks past me toward the lobby, probably getting the car for Suzette. I’ve never understood why some perfectly healthy, capable women insist on being picked up and dropped off rather than walking with the person they love.
If I’m ever lucky enough to fall in love again, I’ll brave a hot walk through a parking lot just to be together.
Jesse
Suzette finishes up talking to my brother and locks eyes on me before walking my way.
Too bad I lost my buffer.
I’ve never had as much fun in church as I did today. Touching Bethany was a benefit I didn’t expect to enjoy as much as I did. Her skin really is as soft as it looks. She tried to act as if my touch made her uncomfortable in a bad way when I knew she enjoyed it as much as I did. The gentle shivers, the soft intake of her breath, the way the muscles in her thigh relaxed under my touch… yeah, she loved it.
The woman who didn’t enjoy my touching Bethany lowers herself gracefully next to me in the pew. “What’re your plans for the rest of your stay?”
A burst of hysterical laughter comes from my left, and the BFF Ashleigh angles her body toward Suzette and me. “Could you be any more obvious?”
Suzette sneers. “Do I know you?”
“Nope, but I’m sure every man in a twenty-five mile radius knows you, and I mean that in the biblical sense.” Ashleigh tops off her insult with praying hands.
I laugh and swivel my head as they volley insults.
“Says the girl who always shows up to church wearing last night’s tramp wear.”
Ashleigh looks at me and winks. It’s not overly sexual but friendly. “Can’t argue that.”
“Is everything okay here?” Ben steps close, noticing the women’s hostile body language with little ol’ me in the middle.
“Pastor Langley!” Ashleigh jumps up so fast, it catches me off guard. “Great sermon today. I like your pants.”
“Now who’s obvious?” Suzette mutters.
She’s right. It would seem the BFF has the hots for my brother. Interesting. Ashleigh’s the complete opposite of his type—meaning she looks as though she’d be fun as shit and the farthest thing from uptight and boring.
“Thank you,” he says. “You’re Bethany’s friend. Ashlynn, right?”
She shoves out her hand. “Ashleigh.”
He shakes her hand, and she dissolves a little. Wow, she really likes Ben. Why? I take in his dorky slacks, polo shirt, and loafers. He’s a decent-looking guy in desperate need of a new wardrobe.
“Suzette?” Wyatt comes trotting down the aisle like a good little boy. “I’ve been outside waiting.” His gaze darts to mine, and I smile. He frowns. “Come on, we have to meet my parents for lunch.”
She allows him to take her hand, but as soon as his back is turned, she smiles and mouths, “Bye.”
Ashleigh makes a gagging sound.
“You ready?” Ben asks me.
“Yep.” I stand and lift my arms above my head to stretch. I expect Ashleigh to take a good look, but she doesn’t. She only has eyes for Ben.
“How are you guys related?” she asks.
The good pastor seems shocked she’s figured it out.
She squints, studying him then me. “You look a lot alike.”
Ben hesitates. “Jesse is my younger brother.”
“Ah.” She nods. “Makes sense.”
That’s it?
“Well, I better go find my roomie.” She turns toward me. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“See you next week, Pastor Langley.”
“You can call him Ben,” I say.
Her eyes brighten a little. “Are you sure?” she asks him.
My brother actually smiles. It looks unintentional, but damn, yep, he’s grinning. “That is my name.”
“Cool.” Ashleigh bounces on her toes. “See ya around, Ben.”
I watch her walk away then turn and catch my brother doing the same.
He’s squinting at her boots. “Odd girl.”
“That there is a woman, Pastor Langley.” I clap him on the shoulder. “I know you’ve forgotten they exist, but they do.”
He frowns at the reminder of the female species, or more likely the reminder of the female he lost.
I head out the back door to the church staff parking lot to wait by the Lexus and sneak a quick smoke. I’d planned to drive myself to church, but my brother suggested we all go together, and since I refuse to be seen by anyone in his POS minivan, I drove.
I light my smoke and get in a few good drags before I have to put it out because of the kid. If Bethany were here, she’d launch into a lecture about the dangers of smoking and list all the smoking-related diseases, along with the percentage chance of contracting them. That woman really knows how to rain on a good time.
And yet here I am thinking of her, remembering the softness of her skin on my palm as I wrote music against her thigh. I came up with a killer riff too.
I put out my smoke as Ben emerges with his kid at his side. She runs up to me and thrusts some kind of color-vomit monstrosity on string into my face. “I made this for you!”
“Oh. What is it?”
She thrusts it up again. “It’s a necklace! I made it in Sunday school out of noodles!”
“Awesome! Why are you yelling!”
Her dark brows bunch together. “I dunno.” She thrusts the thing at me again. “Here.”
I take up from her hand with two fingers, feeling the stick of wet paint. And it’s pink. Fabulous. “Thank you?”
“Put it on!” She points at my throat. “It’s a necklace—”
“You mentioned that, yeah…” I do not want to slip this wet-paint noodle nightmare over my head, but for some stupid reason, I can’t tell her no. I take off my hat, slip it on, and return my hat to my head. “There. Happy?”
“Yes!” She races to Ben, who’s at the car with the back door open for her. “He loves it, Daddy!”
I look at my chest. There’s pink and purple paint on my Zenga tee.
Ben clears his throat, grinning like a fucking asshole. “Yeah, he does.”
“Funny.” I jump into the driver’s side.
“Sorry about your shirt,” Ben says under his breath. “I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Great. Neiman Marcus, and it cost me 395 bucks.”
His jaw goes slack. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Huh…” He puts on his seat belt. “Would a three-pack of Hanes from Walmart do?”
I cough on my laughter and head out of the parking lot to take us home. “Yeah. That’ll work.”
13
Jesse
The knock on my door com
es minutes after nine o’clock on Thursday morning.
I ignore it and scribble new lyrics into my notebook.
You’re syrupy sweet behind a frown.
Closed off and unexpected.
You keep shutting me down.
I just want to turn you on—
Another knock on the door. “Jesse!” Bethany yells.
I scratch out the last few words and yell, “What!”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, come in.”
The door clicks open.
“I’m naked.”
The door slams closed. “Put on some clothes! My gosh!”
“I’m kidding.” I laugh. “Come on in.”
The door opens slowly and she peeks her head in with her eyes slammed shut. “I swear to Bob, if I open my eyes and you’re naked, I’m going to be so pissed at you.”
“Who’s Bob?”
Her eyes are still closed. She’s wearing her hair back in a ponytail, and for the first time, I notice she has the lightest dusting of freckles on her cheeks. “Bob is no one. I mean, I’m sure Bob is someone, but I don’t feel guilty swearing to Bob, ya know?”
“Not really—”
“I’m going to open my eyes now.” She peeks through one squinted eye and sees me sitting on the floor, fully clothed in jeans and a Metallica shirt. “Hi.”
I tilt my head, studying her because something weird is happening to her face. Her eyes glaze over a little. It’s subtle, but I catch it. I know I’m clothed, but she’s responding to me as if I’m not. “You okay?”
She blinks, shakes her head, and focuses on the pillows on the bed behind me. “I’m fine, of course. I’m good.”
My lips curve a little. “What can I do for you?”
“Oh, right.” She steps deeper inside the room and searches for somewhere to sit. “Where did the chair go?”
“Closet.”
She wrinkles her nose, and fuck me, it’s cute as shit. “You put the chair in the closet? Why?”
I set down my notebook and pen, cross my legs at the ankle and my arms at my chest. “Because my dad used to try to belt-whip the evil out of me on that chair, so forgive me, but I don’t like lookin’ at the fuckin’ thing.”
Her face pales and I’m feeling a little dizzy myself. Did I just slit myself open and bleed in front of the nanny?
“Your back…” she whispers.
I clear my throat to push back the fury coiling there. “I was in the middle of working, so unless you came in here for a reason—”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers and her eyes get shiny. “I didn’t know.”
“Bethany.” I’ll put an end to this shit right now. No Jesse pity parties allowed.
“Yeah.”
“What do you want?”
She swallows hard and fidgets on her feet. I want to shake her and tell her to spit it out. “I wanted to talk about what happened at church on Sunday.”
I sigh.
“I’m sure you’re used to touching women the way you, um… the way you did me, and I’m also sure they have no problem with it.”
I shrug.
“But I don’t have a lot of experience with that kind of touch from someone who’s not my boyfriend.”
I stand, and her head tilts back when I cross to tower over her. “Are you saying you don’t want me to touch you anymore?”
Her eyes are wide and so beautifully innocent as she stares at me. She shakes her head, but says, “Yes.”
“Hmm.” I wish she wasn’t wearing her stupid uniform shirt. I really enjoyed seeing her in dresses the last couple days. I run my knuckles down her arm. She doesn’t back away. Her breath hitches. “You may not like me touching you, but your body sure as fuck doesn’t mind.”
“It’s not that.” She swallows hard. “I like it when you touch me. It just confuses me, that’s all. I thought you hated me.”
“Hate’s a strong word.”
“Tolerated me at best.”
She’s right. Mostly. “I enjoy touching you.”
“Why?” she says on an exhale and quickly fills her lungs with air and holds it.
I’ve never been around a woman as expressive as Bethany. At least not that I remember. I don’t have to guess what she’s feeling. Every breath she takes conveys an emotion. I wonder if I swallow her gasps, would I feel it too?
I slide my hand around the back of her neck, and she doesn’t resist when I pull her toward me. “Because you’re soft.”
Her lips part and her warm breath ghosts across my lips. I lick my lower lip, hoping for even the smallest taste of what she’s feeling. I barely brush my lips against hers.
Her weight leans slightly toward me. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you what you’re gonna miss if you ask me to stop touching you.” I part my lips enough to take her lower lip between mine.
She tastes like minty lip balm. Her mouth is even softer than I imagined.
She grips my biceps, bunching my T-shirt in her fists a split second before she shoves me back. “Stop.”
I hold my hands up in surrender and smile, feeling a little off balance for some reason. Might have something to do with the loss of blood to my head as it all races to the happy hard-on party in my dick.
Her eyes become slits of icy fire. “I come in here to tell you how your touch is confusing and you kiss me?”
Rejection? This is new. I don’t like it.
“That was hardly a kiss.” I avoid the temptation to sit on the bed at the weakness I feel in my knees.
She recoils at my counter-rejection. Good. “You’re cruel.”
“Don’t act like a victim. You said just seconds ago you like it when I touch you.”
“I do. Which is why I need you to stop.”
“That doesn’t make any sense—”
The obnoxious chime of the doorbell rings through the house, and Bethany jumps at the excuse to storm out of the room. I follow her, not ready to end this conversation.
When she opens the door, Pete walks in. He smiles at her in the same way he’s been doing all week and she fucking smiles back.
“What’s up, Beth-nanny.” He holds out his arm, and they hug.
Oh, so it’s okay for this asshole to touch her, just not me?
“I figured it out,” she says happily, clearly not at all affected by what happened just seconds ago like I am. “Matthew Perry.”
The man-nurse smirks.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
He shrugs but doesn’t say anything. What kind of bullshit game are these two playing?
“I knew it!” Bethany fist-pumps like a dork.
“Knew what?”
They whip their eyes toward the hallway where I’m standing, watching their nerd-flirting.
“What’s up, Jesse?”
I ignore the nurse and wait for Bethany to answer me.
“It’s a game we play where I guess the celebrities Pete’s been a nurse for,” she says with none of the enthusiasm she showed the dick in blue scrubs.
“And on that note.” Pete pats his duffle bag. “Let’s get this urine test done so you can keep your driving privileges. You ready to pee in a cup?”
“Guess confidentiality means jack shit to you, eh, nurse?” I shift my hips, feeling the strain of my hard-on tucked behind the denim of my jeans. “And no, I’m not ready.” Unless the nurse can catch piss, I’m going to have to jack off before I can take the test.
I’ve never gone this long without sex. That’s all this is. There’s nothing special about Bethany.
I stomp off to my room, telling myself that, but I fantasize about my hand on her thigh while I empty my balls into the toilet.
Bethany
I’d hoped by the end of the week I’d be feeling better about how my talk with Jesse went down. I’d stayed up most every night this week talking to Ashleigh about how to explain to Jesse that he couldn’t go around touching me like that. She tried unsuccessfully to hide her smile while
I blabbed and blabbed about how I’d politely tell him to stop even though I didn’t necessarily hate the feel of his hand on me.
His touch confuses me, is what I settled on.
I’d rehearsed the lecture a million times in my head on the bus ride to Pastor Ben’s that morning. When I walked in and saw Jesse on the floor, looking like the offspring of a tortured artist and a fallen angel, I froze. I’d asked about the chair absently, and his answer was the final blow that zapped all my resolve. Beat the evil out of him, those where the words he’d used, but he’d said them like an afterthought, as though they’d slipped from his lips without his permission.
When I was reeling from his confession, he saw my weakness and went in for the kill.
He kissed me!
That was hardly a kiss.
His words ring through my head, embarrassment washing over me as freshly as if he’d just said them. I knew his goal was to remind me how naive I am compared to him, how innocent and prude.
“I’m not prude,” I mumble and shove sugar packets into the caddy, thankful the restaurant is empty except for a few cooks in the back.
We closed ten minutes ago, but I’m in no hurry to go home. Ashleigh will grill me about how my talk with Jesse went, and I’ll have to face the fact that I tried to ward off Jesse Lee and, like the entire female population, failed miserably.
The headlights of a car shine in through the front windows. During the week, we tend to get a few late-night customers who forget we’re only open until ten on weekdays. They usually see the closed sign, notice the lights are off, and move on.
When the headlights turn off and I hear the slam of a car door, I peer outside to see temptation himself headed right toward me. Jesse’s wearing his disguise—a baseball hat and a long-sleeved shirt. I unlock the door and open it to keep him from having to loiter too long in the open.
“What are you doing here?”
He stops just outside the door. “Can I come in?”
I didn’t realize I was blocking the way. I step back. “Sure.”
He stops in front of the hostess stand and looks around the semi-darkened space. “So this is where you work.”
