Grit and Grind

by Kat Addams

“Tell Ms. May I said hi!”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, and, Klara? I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too, Chris,” Klara stuttered before hanging up.

  His sudden confession of his true feelings sent her into shock.

  Maybe he is working on his issues. Maybe he is going to tell me he loves me now, and we’ll ride off into the sunset. Maybe … just maybe …

  She let herself fall into the rabbit hole. Her outlook on tomorrow night suddenly became much more positive and much more hopeful.

  It was a little after three when Klara finally made her way to Ms. May’s house. She had pruned, watered, and weeded every other house on the street, saving the best—or the worst, depending on how you looked at it—for last. But Klara preferred to love the old fart. Even if it was like driving a sharp tack under your fingernail.

  “You got a twinkle in ya eye. That’s dangerous. He must be in town.” Ms. May was sitting on her porch, waiting her turn with Klara. Even in this heat, she already had two sweet teas poured, ready for the latest gossip.

  “Not yet. Tomorrow though,” Klara said as she plopped down on the rocking chair next to Ms. May.

  “Has he told you he loves you back yet?”

  “No, but I did get an ‘I miss you,’ so that’s a first step, right?”

  Ms. May sighed. “So, what’s next? He gonna just come here, get the goods for free, and leave again? Y’all spending the rest of your days like that? That’s a nice arrangement for him! You know what we called those types back in my day? Cake eaters! He can have his cake and eat it, too. Klara, quit baking for this man until you get some solid answers on where he wants to go. Go about your own life and let him choose you. If you’re too busy when he makes his wants clear, then oh well! No harm, no foul. It’s only gonna get harder, baby.”

  “I have been going about my life. He’s just been in the background. All the damn time. But … enough about him. I landed an agent, and she’s pitched my book to four different publishers. She’s guaranteeing me one will bite, so … I could be a published author soon. Now, you can say you know two people who are famous!” Klara could hardly contain her excitement.

  Her life goal would be complete at only twenty-six. Now, she just had to learn how to make a career of it. She was sure Chris would help her figure it out. He was the pro after all.

  “Do I get a signed copy? You got me in there? You dedicating this thing to me? Ain’t I your muse?” Ms. May suddenly looked excited. She could picture herself the talk of the church group, rubbing shoulders with the famous and all. Certainly not the rich and famous. Not yet anyway.

  Klara looked as skinny as ever. She needed to feed that girl a pork chop.

  “I’ll sign you a special dedicated copy … if it goes through and someone actually believes in it enough to publish it. I believe in it, but I’m no publisher.”

  “I believe in it, too. And I’m pretty smart, so … you’ll get your time to shine.”

  Klara almost teared up. She thought this was the first time she’d ever heard Ms. May say something so nice to her before. She hadn’t even told her own mom about the book, knowing it would be picked apart and deeply criticized. She was so grateful for the people in her life. Her small circle she had now was ever supportive of her endeavors. Even if Chris did decide it wouldn’t work out, she knew she had people who would support her. No matter what.

  “Ms. May, I do believe you have a heart in that cold, dead body of yours.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, missy. Now, here, cut some of those roses and put them on your table tonight. See if he asks where they came from. You’ll know if he’s interested then.”

  Klara laughed. Another scheme? How come her other relationships hadn’t been this complicated? Of course he would think they were from work. Maybe.

  “All right, you conniving ole fart! I’ll give your trick a shot. I’ll add it to my plan,” Klara said, getting to work on the rose bushes.

  “Your plan? What’s this? This the first I’m hearing about a plan!”

  Klara told Ms. May all about The Johnson, the food, the romantic dinner tomorrow night, followed by the puppy eyes. To her surprise, Ms. May thought it was brilliant. She also wanted to meet The Johnson.

  “They seem like my kind of people,” she said, laughing as Klara recounted Grayson’s one-liners.

  “The Johnson is definitely your people, Ms. May. I’ll bring them by sometime. Promise. They would eat you up.”

  “Everyone loves a crotchety ole granmama. Now, come inside and let me bake you some cookies for tomorrow. You tell him you made them.”

  “That would be a lie! He knows I can’t bake!”

  “Is he a cake eater?”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Yes! Now, hush your mouth. If it makes you feel better, you can help me. But my cookies ain’t ever turned a man away. One bite of this lovin’ from the oven, and he will be hooked. Take you outta that friend zone; you just watch. My grandbabies call them my crack cookies. So, come on in and taste this crack.” Ms. May laughed and slapped her knees, proud of herself for that one.

  Klara just shook her head in pretend shock. She could see she wasn’t going to win this argument, so she let Ms. May lead her inside and teach her Baking Crack Cookies 101. With a side of sass. How could Chris resist?

  Chris was packing for his trip to Memphis when he got the call from his agent. Her voice blubbering on and excited.

  “A huge opportunity, promote your new book, movie rights,” his agent rambled on. But all Chris heard was, “Europe, Asia, one year, maybe more, see the world.”

  He was thirty minutes from hopping on a plane to see the woman he finally thought he would be able to settle down with, and now … and now …

  He told his agent he would think about things and give him a call next week. But he knew. He already knew.

  Klara had just turned soft jazz music on in the background and lit the taper candles that John had given her when there was a knock at the door. For some reason, she was anxious. More anxious than excited. She was hopeful that the night would go according to her plan, but she still had this nagging feeling. The feeling of reality and loss. That, even if things did go well, he would be gone again in a heartbeat. With her heartbeat.

  How did I let myself get so tangled up in this man? Her heart sank into her chest when she heard the doorbell ring again. She was stalling.

  “Coming!” she called out, racing to the front door, dodging kittens, and doing a quick once-over to make sure her house was acceptable.

  All day, she had spent cleaning, and all afternoon, she’d spent setting things up. She’d never gone above and beyond like this. Not even for herself. It was kind of nice. She thought she would do it more often. Maybe invite The Johnson over or even Ms. May.

  “As stunning as ever,” Chris said as soon as she opened the door. His lips were on hers in an instant.

  “Well, hello to you, too, stranger.”

  “Damn, I’ve missed you. This is for you, compliments of Marcy,” he said, handing her a bottle of champagne. “I’ve got something for you, too, but you’ll have to wait until later for it.”

  “Oh, I bet you do.” Klara smiled. She was already eager to get him back into bed. His skin on hers, his breath on her neck, his lips … everywhere. “I’ll chill it for tonight. That Marcy is so sweet!” she said, motioning for Chris to step inside.

  “She’s super proud of you for finishing your novel. She said she will need an autograph next time you come down.”

  Next time, she thought. Things were already going well.

  “Oh, hello!” Chris smiled as he leaned down to greet the kittens.

  They instantly circled his legs and rubbed themselves against him.

  “Wow, they really like you. They don’t even greet me like that much. They more … swat at me.”

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha! It’s the primal tigress in you. They’re just treating you like one of their own. Playful litt
le things.”

  “Uh-huh. Not sure I believe that line of thought, but okay. Come on. Dinner is on the table.”

  “For me? Really?”

  “All for you. I’ve missed you,” she whispered in his ear, taking his hand and leading him into the kitchen.

  “Me, too,” he replied. “Wow, you have a really nice place. It’s so fresh and spring-like in here! Those flowers! Beautiful! Did you pick those yourself or …”

  Bingo. He cares, Klara thought, stifling a giggle. She would have to tell Ms. May her plan had worked.

  “Actually, Ms. May gave those to me, which reminds me … have a seat and try one of these,” she said, handing him the plate of cookies.

  “Dessert before dinner? I’m in!” he said, taking a bite of the cookie and moaning out loud. “Wow! These are better than the best ever flavor in the world—chocolate chip!”

  “I’m more of an oatmeal-raisin gal, but I’ll let that slide … and thank you. I thought you’d like them.”

  “Seriously? Well, I knew you had to have one fault at least. Guess we’ve found it. I thought that was an old-person favorite. Raisins? In cookies? What are you trying to make a dessert healthy for? By the way, can I have another? These are dangerous. Addicting even.”

  She laughed. “Sure, sure. Enjoy. I’ll pour the wine and get to serving. I made this pasta that will knock your socks off. Fresh Memphis pasta.”

  “You already knock my socks off but Memphis pasta? I’m intrigued. I thought Memphis was only known for barbecue.”

  “So much to learn, Chris. So much to learn.” She kissed him on the forehead and got up to make them both plates.

  They toasted their wine to each other, broke the bread, and spent the next two hours laughing and catching up. Klara caught him up on Ms. May, her work, her novel, her running group. Not on The Johnson. She thought it was too soon to bring up attractive men even if they were gay. She got the feeling it wasn’t the right time. She didn’t want to talk about anyone really other than themselves. But, sticking to the plan, she was slowly putting Chris into a food coma before becoming all sexual deviant and doe-eyed.

  “A beautiful woman like you, making me such an amazing dinner? I love my life,” Chris gushed. “I’m really impressed by the music, the candles, the wine, and especially the food. It’s so very hygge.”

  “Hygge? That’s the trendy word right now, meaning cozy basically, right?”

  “Yep, it is. Brushing up on my foreign languages. You should try it. It’s a great, big world out there! You need to see it all. I think you’d love it!” he said nervously, his foot shaking under the table.

  How am I going to break this to her? Should I do it now? Later?

  “Maybe one day. But, for now, what I really want to see is, all of you,” she said, leaning across the table and playfully biting her finger.

  Later, yep. I’ll definitely bring it up later.

  Chris stood up from his chair and slowly undressed as Klara’s gaze took him in. He took everything off. Everything. Until he stood there, stark naked, erect, and hungry for dessert.

  “You can have all of me,” he whispered.

  Her eyes widened. Chris is such a damn rock star. I would have never been brave enough to pull that move off, but Chris? This man is on another level. Her knees were already getting weak, and she hadn’t even touched him yet.

  “Let’s go,” she said, hurriedly blowing the candles out and yanking his hand toward the bedroom.

  The room was already dimly lit with five of those knockoff, fake candles flickering away. Klara was prepared, as usual. And, despite the wine, she was still nervous.

  “Bring the champagne,” he muttered to her, his mouth on hers.

  Klara ran back into the kitchen to get the champagne. Chris was already in bed, looking comfortable, upon her return. His hand stroking his cock as he licked his lips. Her jaw dropped.

  She put the bottle on the nightstand and slowly began undressing herself with her best strip-tease moves. She had on black lace lingerie under her dress, the bra cups exposed, letting her breasts spill over.

  “You’re so damn gorgeous. And I’m so damn lucky,” Chris said as he reached up and pulled her down on top of him.

  She could feel his hard cock in between her legs as she straddled him, rocking back and forth. Her lingerie grew wetter and wetter as she rolled her hips across his full length. He lifted her up and flipped her over, crawling on top.

  “I want to taste champagne off your neck, your nipples, your navel, and this sweet pussy of yours,” Chris whispered to her, dipping his fingers inside her and bringing it to his mouth. “Can I do that?”

  Klara, struck dumb again, could only nod.

  “Mmm, you’re my whole damn fantasy, Klara,” he said, popping the top on the bottle and drizzling it over her. “Your bedsheets might be a little sticky,” he warned.

  “Let’s make them a lot sticky,” Klara begged.

  Chris growled as he made his way down her body, kissing her, licking her, tasting her.

  Klara’s hips rolled into his lips, her wetness grinding on his mouth as he sucked the champagne off of her.

  “Mmm, Chris. You like that? You want it? Tell me you want to taste me explode into your mouth.”

  Fuck, Chris thought. Klara is definitely on her A game tonight.

  “I want to swallow every last drop of you, Klara,” he said, putting his hands under her hips and burying his face deeper into her. “Give me that cum, baby. Show me how much you like it.”

  Klara’s legs began to shake as her hands gripped the bedsheets with her fists. Her body was losing control as she bucked against his tongue inside her, his hands firm and steadying her as she became louder and louder and louder. She lost control as wave after wave after wave slid down her body and out into his mouth.

  He looked up at her, smiling. His lips wet with her.

  “I’m not done yet. Come fuck me,” she said, tossing a condom over to him.

  “Damn, you’re a wild woman. My beautiful, wild woman. Mine,” he said as he slipped the condom on and thrust inside her, hard.

  His hands grabbed her ankles and pushed them back into the bed as he dipped deeper and deeper inside her. He could feel her still pulsing around his cock. Her lips parted and gasped with each hard thrust. He couldn’t last long, not looking into these mesmerizing eyes, not with her sweetness on his lips, not with the way she moaned while grabbing his ass and pushing him down into her harder.

  He kissed her just as he came. His mouth stifling her moans as he grunted and buried himself inside her. Both of their bodies twitching. Their heartbeats racing up against each other.

  He rolled over beside her as they both tried to catch their breath, looking at each other and laughing.

  “That was fucking hot!” she said, her face alight and flushed a bright pink.

  “You’re incredible! And I mean that in every single way. The perfect woman!”

  This is it, Klara thought. This was the chance she needed. While the dopamine was flowing. She needed to know. To make plans. With him. She had to go all in.

  “Chris?”

  “Yes?” He turned toward her. A look of concern overcoming his face. He could tell it in her voice. Something had changed drastically. Is it the champagne in the bed? Is she … oh God … is she pregnant from that slipup on date night? Oh no. Should they be having crazy sex like that with their baby inside her? But she has been drinking … no, she wouldn’t do that. Not Klara.

  “I have something to ask you.” She sat up on her elbows, hovering over his chest.

  “Okay.” He hesitated. “I actually have something to ask you, too.”

  “You do?” Klara tried to contain the excitement.

  Maybe, tonight, I’ve proven I am wifey material. Maybe he’s finally come to his senses. Maybe. Just maybe.

  “Actually, let me grab it real quick. It’s in the bag I brought in.”

  “Okay.” She nodded.

  Is it a ring? Oh my gosh,
I’m going to be a fiancée. She couldn’t wait to call The Johnson and gush over how all this went down. Leaving out the details, of course, except for the champagne. That was hot!

  Chris was back within a minute, handing her a heavy bag.

  This doesn’t feel like a ring, she thought as she opened the bag and pulled out two travel guides, a passport cover, and a printed plane ticket receipt.

  “What’s this?” she stuttered. Confused. Her dopamine high quickly wearing off.

  “It’s your ticket to see the world! With me! I’ve got an overseas book tour. We’re going everywhere! Starting in Europe, ending in Asia. Let’s call it a sabbatical for you. Of course, you’ll be able to write along the way. Probably even better than you could here, being inspired by other cultures and all.”

  “This ticket is for next month. I start school right after this. Remember … my degree?” she said, slightly annoyed.

  Chris picked up on the tone in her voice. He knew she had school, but he thought maybe she could put it on hold. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. They would be great travel buddies. He’d thought she would be ecstatic.

  “Look, I know it’s sudden. It’s sudden for me, too. I only just learned about it yesterday. But I had to jump on it. It’s a great career move! For the both of us!”

  “For the both of us … yeah … ” Klara set the ticket down and got up to get dressed.

  “Yes, for the both of us, silly. Don’t you want to get out and see the world? You said so yourself at dinner!”

  “I said, one day … not next month. Not when I’ve just kicked off my writing career and I’m finishing up my degree! How long will you be gone?”

  “Uh, I don’t know … ”

  “How long?”

  “A year … minimum. Depending, I guess, on what cities sign on last minute and whatnot. Nothing is set in stone, except my departure date. That’s kind of nonnegotiable. Agent’s orders. You know how those agents can be. Bossy, bossy.”

  She sat on the bed, trying to gather her thoughts, trying to hold her heart together, trying to steady her voice and not shout or cry or get angry. I can’t believe I thought he was going to marry me. He knows damn well I can’t go. This is just an easy and cowardly way out for him. The famous Mr. Christopher Kaiser. Touring the world, one muse at a time.