by Brooks, Abby
It happened.
She wouldn’t need more information than that to know what I was talking about, and her reply only confirmed my confidence in her ability to read between the lines.
No freaking way!
She followed that one up with a string of emojis. An eggplant. A peach. A face with heart eyes. They devolved from there and I rolled my eyes at her enthusiasm.
I can’t believe you had sex with your picture frame boy. Wait. Yes. Yes. I can. How was it?
I let that question roll around in my head for a bit while I took my first few sips of coffee. I didn’t think she wanted a play by play, and I wasn’t one to share details like that anyway. Finally, I went with the truth.
Life-altering.
Brighton replied with another string of emojis, which meant she was distracted. Considering it was ten in the morning on a weekday—which made it just barely seven for her—she had to be gearing up to be knee deep in crisis. I picked up my phone to tell her I’d talk to her later, when a new message buzzed in.
It’s a shitshow here, thank you very much. I’m running in place, trying to put out fires for you. So, you know, don’t be shocked if you come back and find half of your clients interested in breaking your contract to sign with me.
She followed that up with a winky face, supposedly to show she was being funny, but somehow, the text felt more like a threat than a joke. I picked through the selection of coffee, wondering which one Caleb liked most, and waited for the surge of emotion to hit me in response to Brighton’s barb. Nothing happened, which I chalked up to the magical sexcapades from the night before. Smiling, I grabbed a pod I thought Caleb would appreciate and dropped it into the Keurig before typing out one last text to Brighton.
Thanks for running defense. If you get a chance…would you water my plant for me?
I didn’t expect a response, but got one anyway.
Sure thing, chica. Happy sexy times!
Part of me had expected her to ask how I ended up running into Caleb at that bar. I know my curiosity would be piqued, if the situation were reversed. It was too big a coincidence that of all the bars in all the world, he and I ended up in the same one. The only logical conclusion was that I had grown up around here and had never mentioned it the entire time Brighton planned her wedding. Which, if it were me, would set off a whole slew of red flags. Maybe she assumed it was a massive coincidence, or maybe she just didn’t care that much. Either way, I was tired of wasting energy on worrying about her.
I considered opening up my messages and wading into the shitshow to help put out the fires, but damn it. I didn’t want work to color my time with Caleb. Without another thought, I powered down my phone and set it aside, leaning my elbows on the counter to blow into my coffee.
“Sweet baby Jesus, you are a sight to behold.” Caleb’s voice came from behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to find him leaning against the wall, sporting a pair of low-slung sweatpants and nothing else. A light spattering of golden hair sprinkled his chest and trailed down his abdomen, disappearing into his waistline.
“Wearing my shirt,” he continued. “With it showing so much of those legs…”
I straightened and turned as he made his way to me, lifting me onto the counter and stepping into the space between my thighs. He buried his face in my chest and I smoothed his sleep-crazed hair. His body was still warm from being in bed and contentment melted the tension in my shoulders.
“I made you a cup of coffee,” I murmured.
Caleb made a sound that could have been a hum of approval, or perhaps was a moan of displeasure at being awake, then lifted a grabby hand. I chuckled and retrieved his mug and settled it into his palm.
“Bless you, child,” he said, then sat up enough to take a long swig.
“Not one for mornings?” I asked.
“Not even a little.” He took another long drink. “You?”
I shrugged. The truth was, I didn’t sleep much at all, staying up too late, waking up frequently during the night, and then finally deciding to stay awake sometime before my alarm went off each morning. “This is the latest I’ve slept in a long time. You’re the best stress relief I’ve found yet.”
His eyes met mine, a slow smile pulling at his lips. “I’m just that good,” he said.
“And modest,” I replied.
“Oh, yes. Modesty is my strongest trait.” He took another long pull of his coffee and set his mug next to mine. “Now, for the most important question of the morning. Do you fish?”
“The closest I ever got was when we were kids and I’d sit and watch you fish off the dock at The Hut.”
“Interested?” he asked, looking hopefully skeptical.
“Honestly, no.” I laughed. “Like, imagine you’re a fish, just swimming about, thinking you’re about to have a delightful snack when suddenly a hook jams through your lips and you’re jolted into a world where you can’t breathe and giant monsters manhandle you.”
Caleb stared at me with wide eyes. “That’s…descriptive.”
“But if you want to fish today, don’t let me hold you back. I’d be happy to sit and watch you.”
“And judge me as a giant monster manhandling fish.”
I winked. “Yeah. But, that never stopped you before…”
I watched as he understood what I was saying. Incredulity painted surprise on his face and next thing I knew, he was chasing me into the living room. “I’ll show you a giant monster,” he said as I squealed in protest.
“I’m pretty sure you already showed me last night.” I darted around the couch, hoping to make a break for the back door, but Caleb out-maneuvered me and pulled me in for a kiss.
“I’ll show you again tonight, too. And tomorrow. And the next day.” He trailed off, a question dancing through his eyes. I knew what it was. How long are you staying?
But I didn’t know the answer and he didn’t ask, so I kissed him again, distracting him by reaching down to stroke his giant monster, then made a break for the door.
Nineteen
Caleb
When we were kids, Maisie used to spend a lot of time at my house. Both our dads were drunks, but mine tended to hole up in his office and there were plenty of places to be at The Hut that kept us out of his line of fire. Maisie’s house was small and she had nowhere to go to get a break from Mr. Brown, except to me. Some days she needed distraction from her anxious energy, so, I would create an adventure for us, one that had us running along the beaches, exploring worlds only in our imaginations.
Other times, she needed quiet. Those were the days I would invite her to sit on the dock with me while I fished. She would dangle her feet in the water and stare at the horizon while I enjoyed her quiet company. After Maisie left for Kentucky and I grew, I wondered if I had imagined the different ways she needed me. If those ideas were nothing more than a little boy thinking he knew more than he did, but today, looking at her as she led me in a chase around my house and right out the back door to stare at the ocean, I knew I’d been right on the money.
Somehow, back then, I had been able to understand what she needed, maybe better than she ever did. And it was no different now.
I stepped up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, drawing her against my body and peering at the water over her shoulder. “I’m surprised how much I missed it,” she said quietly.
I kissed her cheek. “I’m not.” We stayed like that for some time, me wrapped around her as if I could physically protect Maisie from whatever was bothering her. Her leaning into me, borrowing my strength as we swayed slightly, watching the waves wash up on the beach. She yawned, then excused herself, sounding almost embarrassed about such a natural human reaction.
“You want to take a nap?” I asked, then had a natural human reaction of my own at the thought of having her in my bed again.
Maisie giggled, wriggling her hips so her ass rubbed against my poor, straining dick. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Napping?” She turned a little an
d made air quotes around her last word.
“Hell, woman. You are insatiable.” Though, I was too, when it came to her. With anyone else, I’d have had my fill, my body urging me to take a break and get some rest. With Maisie, it was like we knew the clock was ticking down on our time together, and we were bound and determined to make as much of what we had as we could.
“I didn’t get to where I am by taking it easy.” She stepped out of my arms and turned to face me. A hungry gleam set into her eyes. “And there’s no way I could sleep, knowing this thing was waiting for me.” She ran a hand along my erection.
“Then we’ll sleep after.” I took her hand and led her back through my house and into my bedroom where we wore each other out, before Maisie curled into me and fell fast asleep.
* * *
I didn’t stay asleep long, and quietly slipped from my bed, pausing to stare down at Maisie’s sweet face as she got some much needed rest, the space between her brows relaxed and easy as her hair fanned out on my pillow. I decided to take today easy, to give her some time to regain her energy and recoup her reserves. She slept for a couple hours and finally emerged from my bedroom looking sexy as hell, still wearing only my shirt.
We watched some Netflix as we ate leftovers for a late lunch, my shock at her utter lack of knowledge around pop culture growing with each show she swore she had never seen.
“For someone who works in show business, you have some serious holes in your education.” I stared at her, shaking my head. “How do you even live on this planet?”
“I’m too busy actually working to sit down and watch TV,” she replied, as if that proved some kind of point.
“Yeah? And how is that working out for you?” I meant it as a joke around the fact that she hadn’t seen some of this decade’s most popular shows, but her gaze darted to her cellphone—powered down and hunkered on my counter like a snake waiting to strike.
“It’s working out very well,” she said with a proud smile. “I live a very fulfilling life.”
After that, she got quiet again, so I turned on a comedy, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and drew her in close. We stayed like that for several hours, laughing until we cried, until she finally pushed into a sitting position, stretching her arms toward the ceiling.
“What time is it?” she asked, stifling yet another yawn. “Are you hungry? I think I’m hungry.”
“I could eat,” I said, as my stomach rumbled its approval of the idea.
“Yeah, but something tells me that’s just your natural state.”
I bobbed my head. “This is true. What sounds good? We could order in, if you want.”
Maisie wrinkled her nose and I found myself doubting everything I thought I knew. Had I been wrong about her needing to hibernate a little to regain her energy? Had we spent one of our precious days lounging on the couch in my boring house because I thought I was saving her, and she was actually bored to tears?
“Can you cook?” she asked.
“No,” I replied with a laugh. “Can you?”
“Hell no. But…” She gave me a cautious look. “Today has been so nice and relaxing. I almost always eat carry out and it sounded pretty wonderful to cook a meal and eat it here. You know. Like a normal person.”
I wasn’t sure how many normal people ate homecooked meals in this day and age, but I didn’t say that to her. “Let’s give it a try. We’re two reasonably intelligent adults. How hard could it be to follow a recipe?”
Turned out, it could be pretty hard. After a quick trip to the store to pick up supplies, we let ourselves get cocky as we chopped vegetables and readied the ingredients for a salad to go with our lasagna. Browning the meat wasn’t all that difficult, either. Neither was boiling the water for the noodles. But the assembly of said lasagna went horribly wrong and by the time we sat down to eat the monstrosity we created, we were laughing so hard our sides cramped.
“It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.
“Yeah. Poor old Bertha won’t be winning any beauty contests.”
Maisie looked at me incredulously, mouthing the name, before she burst out in another fit of laughter. When we regained control, we toasted to Bertha and dug in. While she wasn’t much to look at, the lasagna tasted delicious, and we moaned our appreciation at our handiwork until our bellies were so full we thought they would burst.
Maisie sat back in her chair and let out a long sigh. “You always did know how to make me feel better,” she said. “Today was everything I needed and I didn’t even know I needed it.”
I lifted my wineglass. “To us.”
Maisie frowned. Then smiled. Then nodded as she lifted her glass as well. “To us.”
Twenty
Maisie
To us.
The words sounded sweet and tasted bitter.
As wonderful as today had been…
As much as I needed the time to lounge around doing nothing…
As perfect as Caleb was…
…he was medical marijuana and I didn’t partake.
This life, sleeping until ten, hanging out in comfy clothes, watching TV on the couch, it wasn’t mine. I didn’t make monstrous lasagnas because I didn’t have time. (Not to mention in LA, that kind of reckless indulgence in carbs was highly frowned upon.) My clients needed me to be in their corners, fighting for their dreams, and that meant I didn’t get to spend days with my phone turned off.
With me turned off.
But I’d had such a lovely time and couldn’t imagine saying what was on my mind, so I smiled, lifted my glass, and toasted to us.
To beautiful, poetic, short-lived us.
“Do you remember Fort Maileb?” I asked as I set my glass down on the table.
Caleb smirked. “I think you mean Fort Casie.”
His answer brought another smile to my lips. “Oh no,” I said, wagging my finger. “I very much mean Fort Maileb. It was my idea to join our names together, so obviously, my name got to go first.”
“Sure, it was your idea. But I was the one who found all the scrap wood and”—he held up a finger—“I’m the one who knew how to use a hammer and nails, so clearly, that meant my name earned the place up front.”
“You call what you did knowing how to use a hammer and nails?” I dropped him a wink, then leaned back and took another drink, remembering the grove next to Caleb’s house where he and I had built ourselves a sanctuary from the rest of the world. A place where no one could call our dreams dumb, or make fun of us for my clothes or his body. A place where we could say what we were thinking without fear of judgement or criticism. “You think it’s still there?”
Caleb shook his head. “Dad bought that land a year or two after you left to expand the hotel. Nothing but bungalows there now.”
I rolled my eyes. “I guess I should have known that. I was there just the other day and saw zero groves.”
“Eh.” Caleb shrugged. “There’s been a lot going on.”
I lifted my glass. “To understatements.”
He agreed with a chuckle, then polished off his wine and stood to start clearing the table. We worked side by side again, moving around each other as if we’d done it for years, already comfortable sharing a space.
“How come you don’t work with your family at The Hut?” I leaned on the counter to watch his reaction. “It seems like you would be a great asset there. And with that cove as a tourist spot? Could you imagine? That is pure gold, right there.”
Caleb finished loading the dishwasher and turned to me. “Wyatt offered once. Before I started my own business. But, I had washed my hands of Dad and wanted nothing to do with him, so I said no thank you and forged ahead on my own.”
That sounded very much like an adult version of the kid I remembered. I always respected his ability to cut through it all and see his place in the world, something I taught myself to emulate shortly after my family moved to Kentucky. “You always had a clear vision of who you are
and what you want.”
Caleb snorted. “I think most people would describe me as stubborn and hard-headed.”
“Well, sure. Those things go hand in hand with knowing who you are and what you want. Don’t you know anything about how the world works?”
It was so easy being with him. We shared the same sense of humor. Had the kind of chemistry that scorched the earth around us. Felt immense appreciation for the simple things that so many took for granted…
It was just everything else about us that was different.
He drew me in close and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I know I like having you within arm’s reach.”
I liked it, too. Very much. Maybe even too much. I returned the kiss and then put some distance between us. “What about now that your dad’s gone? Have you given any more thought about joining forces with the rest of your family and working at The Hut? Or has that ship sailed?”
Caleb gave me a funny look and very deliberately stepped back into my space again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to distract me.”
“And just why do you think I’d do that?”
“Because you’re scared.”
His words hit a little too close to the truth and I wasn’t ready to get that kind of honest. Not yet. Maybe not ever. These moments with Caleb were just as precious as the ones in our past, but they weren’t reality, and if we weren’t careful, we were going to get hurt. Sometimes it felt like we were trying to cram in another childhood’s worth of memories before I went home, while refusing to acknowledge the fact that I was going home. Even if we didn’t want to, it was happening. Soon.
Instead of saying any of that, I laughed as if he had just made a Bertha level joke. “I mean, he’s huge,” I said as I palmed his dick, “but I don’t think you’ve given me any reason to be scared.”
