by Nikki Ashton
I smiled tightly and whipped back the drape of the examination room.
“It’d be my pleasure,” I replied wondering whether it would be okay to push Hunter out of my moving car because that way, I wouldn’t even need to stop
Hunter
As I followed Ellie to her car, I couldn’t help but enjoy the view of her ass in her blue scrubs. It had a rhythmic swing which made me want to shout ‘boom, boom, boom’ in time with its movement. As for her rack in the top with bugs and flowers all over it, which I reckoned was especially for the kids, well, she wore the usually ugly uniform damn well.
The fact that the last couple of times I’d seen her I’d found my eyes attracted to her tits didn’t sit well with me; she was Carter’s little sister. Yes, she was hot, no doubt about it, but she’d always looked the same; the same mocha colored hair, big chocolate eyes and pretty pink lips. The only thing that changed about her over the years had been her curves, which for some reason I’d only just realized existed.
The human brain sure was weird.
“Thanks for this,” I said as I kicked a plastic drink carton out of the way in the footwell of the car.
She reached forward, picked it up and threw it onto the back seat. “No problem. Sorry it’s a little messy in here. I’ve had a busy week pulling double shifts because Cindy is on vacation.”
“No problem,” I replied glancing through the window to the blue sky outside. “I’d be more worried about the color of the actual car if it were me, not the trash on the inside.”
I grinned and didn’t look at her until I heard a snort of laughter.
“It’s reliable,” Ellie said before she poked her tongue out at me. “The color is irrelevant.”
“Hmm, if you like a car the same shade as baby poop.”
Ellie laughed a little louder and started the car. “That’s exactly how I describe it. I think that’s why I got such a good deal on it. Dusty said it was in great condition for its age, so it can only be the color that put it at a thousand dollars under the list price.”
“I think I’d probably agree and the fact that it is such a good car, I’d suggest you should take better care of it.”
Ellie shrugged as she maneuvered out of the parking lot and pulled onto the main road. “Like I said it’s been a busy week. I don’t normally use it as a four-wheeled trash can.”
“Good to know,” I replied and glanced at her profile.
Her nose had a little wrinkle in it and there was real concentration on her face.
“Do you need glasses?” I asked.
Ellie took a sharp intake of breath and threw a quick glance at me before she turned back to the road.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” I said, cranking down the window an inch to let in the breeze and let out the smell of burger and fries.
“I’m not ashamed,” she snapped. “I forgot to put them in my purse.”
“Should you be driving?” I instinctively reached up for the ‘oh shit’ handle and held on tight.
“Stop being a pansy.” Ellie slapped a hand at my arm. “I’m a perfectly safe driver, with or without my glasses.”
I rose my eyebrows and coughed out a laugh. “If you say so, Ellie.”
“I do say so, and if you’re that scared you can always walk.”
As we’d just passed the seven-mile marker to get back into town, I decided to keep my mouth shut and trust her driving ability.
We remained silent for a couple of miles until I heard Ellie take a breath as if she was about to speak but the silence continued for a couple more minutes until she took another, followed by quiet again.
“Spit it out, Ellie,” I groaned wincing as we hit a bump in the road which jarred my sore ribs.
“I just… well I just think you should take it seriously about Bronte and your dad.”
Shit not again. I was sick of talking about a subject which I thought was totally unnecessary.
“He’s dating Jojo, he’s forty-eight years of age, and he’s her daddy’s best friend. Listen carefully to me, Ellie. It. Ain’t. Gonna. Happen.”
“Hah well there’s the problem with your argument.” She briefly took her eyes off the road to smirk at me. “Bronte said your pop and Jojo had a bust up during dinner and that Jojo sat in the Jackson’s back yard for twenty minutes before he went out to talk to her.”
I reeled back a little in my seat. “I didn’t know that. They seemed okay when I picked them up. How were they when you got there for your folks?”
Ellie pressed her foot down on the accelerator and her grip tightened on the wheel.
“Loaded,” she barked. “All six of them. I had to practically pour my dad into the car and then had to listen to him and my mom whispering sweet nothings to each other all the way home.”
I let out a laugh. That pretty much summed up my own journey home. I’d been a little late picking up Pop and Jojo because I’d fallen asleep on the sofa and missed his first two calls, so Ellie’s mom and dad had already left.
“Same here,” I sighed. “So maybe Bronte got it wrong Pop and Jojo were pretty happy in the back of my truck.”
I watched Ellie as she chewed on the inside of her mouth, her eyes narrow as she evidently contemplated what I’d said.
“Hmm maybe.” She drummed a beat on the steering wheel for a few seconds and then blew out a breath. “Do you like her? Jojo I mean.”
Did I like Jojo? How the fuck did I answer that? At least not without coming across as a rude douchebag who didn’t think my pop’s latest girlfriend was fit to lick my dead mom’s boots.
“She’s nice enough.” It was the best I could come up with.
“But?” Ellie asked, glancing at me.
There were a whole lot of buts. I felt bad saying them though as Pop seemed to like her. I decided to go with partial honesty.
“But, she’s not my mom.”
As I stared out of the side window, I heard Ellie take a sharp intake of breath, but I couldn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see the sadness on her face. I had enough of my own to deal with.
“What do you miss most about her?” Ellie asked, her tone tentative.
I considered not answering and accusing her of being too nosey, but the need to talk about Mom was greater than the worry that I might break down in front of Ellie.
“Her smell,” I replied with a smile. “She always wore the same fragrance; Miss Dior and it smelled flowery and feminine. We have lots of video of her, you know holidays and birthdays, so I still get to hear her voice and see her, but that smell is gone from the house.”
Ellie gave a soft whimper beside me and I turned to see her swipe a hand at her cheek.
“You could buy the fragrance,” she offered with her eyes dead ahead.
“Pop doesn’t know I know, but he started to about a year after she died. I figured he must have finished Mom’s original bottle because I went up to tell him dinner was ready and saw him unwrap it and spray it on his pillow.” I sighed as I remembered how the cry of pain had caught in my throat as I watched Pop from the doorway. “I went back downstairs and pretended I hadn’t seen it.”
“Why?” Ellie asked, her voice gentler than I’d ever heard it before.
“Because it was his private moment. It was him trying to find a way to cope with the death of the love of his life. I didn’t want to invade on that.”
I turned to look at Ellie who had her eyes focused on me, there was a tremble to her bottom lip.
“I went back up there while he did the last check of the night, but it didn’t smell the same.” I swallowed hard and turned back to watch the trees blowing in the breeze. “It didn’t smell like Mom, and no matter how often I sneak into Pop’s room and take that bottle of fragrance out of his drawer and smell it, it still doesn’t remind me of her.”
Ellie blew out a shaky breath but otherwise remained silent as she concentrated on the road ahead. I looked out too, but from the corner of my eye noticed that she kept glancing at me.
I thought about telling her not to worry about me, but I didn’t want to bring the subject of Mom up again. I wanted to talk about her, but like every other time I did, it broke my damn heart all over again. Now I’d have to let it heal until the next time I felt the need.
After a few minutes I couldn’t stand the silence any longer and reached over to turn on the radio. Sam Hunt’s ‘Body Like a Back Road’ was playing and Ellie immediately started to sing along. Shit she was bad.
She kept one hand on the wheel while the other swung around in the air, punching in time to the beat while she crowed like a rook about driving with her eyes closed and knowing every curve like the back of her hand. I’d heard about folks being tone deaf but had never experienced it until now. Ellie was making my damn ears bleed.
I turned in my seat to watch her as she bounced around, her voice growing louder and louder and higher and higher, until on the final note I looked over my shoulder to check we weren’t being chased by a pack of dogs.
When the next tune slowed things right down, Ellie pulled her shoulders back and gave a big smile like she was real proud of herself.
“What the actual fuck?” I couldn’t stop the belly laugh bursting to get out.
Ellie’s gaze snapped to mine and if looks could kill, my pop would be burying me tomorrow. “What?” she asked.
“What the hell was that?” I poked a finger into my ear and wiggled it around.
She curled a lip at me and then turned back to watch the road. “I was in the choir.”
“Really?” I asked incredulously. “Was it a choir for the deaf?”
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you? Well, let me tell you, I had a solo in the Thanksgiving festival when Bronte and I were in middle school.”
“Seriously, they let you sing on your own? Was it in an empty room or something?”
I let out another burst of laughter and then winced as I felt my ribs complain.
“Serves you right,” Ellie grumbled. “And no, I sang in front of the whole school. I’m surprised you don’t remember. I was a triumph according to Miss Gruber at the Dayton Valley Press.”
I trawled my memory banks to recall Ellie being called a triumph, but I had nothing. To be honest, I failed to see how anyone could call that noise a triumph. She sounded like a bobcat that I once trapped in the barn. In fact, the angry little critter sounded a whole lot better than Ellie did in full voice.
“Wasn’t Miss Gruber the one who wore deaf aids? Or hey,” I said as I held my aching side. “Was that after she’d heard you sing?”
Ellie actually growled and put an extra swing into the turn she took as she pulled off the main road to the track leading up to the ranch.
“Some people are so damn rude,” she muttered under her breath as she reached to turn off the radio. “Next time you can wait for your dad to pick you up.”
“No problem,” I replied. “He at least can hold a tune.”
That was it for Ellie, I’d evidently said too much. She slammed her foot down on the brake which jerked me forward so far in my seat, I almost hit my head on the dash.
“For fuck’s sake, Ellie,” I groaned. “My ribs.”
“Oh no,” she mocked, with a flutter of her eyelashes and a hand against her heart. “Did I hurt you. I’m so sorry.”
The pain stung like a red-hot poker in my side and I really wanted to punch something. Ellie’s dash was looking favorite.
“I could report you for dereliction of duty.” I blew out a couple of quick breaths. “That and cruelty to the world with that fucking awful singing voice.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my singing.”
“You think?” I asked, laughing disbelievingly.
I’d never really seen Ellie mad before, but she was now. She actually snarled and slammed her hand against the steering wheel as we jolted to a stop.
“Get out,” she growled and leaned across me to grab the handle and open the door. “You can walk the rest of the way.”
“What!”
“You heard me,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “Get out and walk”
With my eyes as wide as dinner plates, I looked out of the window up the long track that led to the house. It was another mile and a half and while normally that wouldn’t bother me, today I had been kicked by a bull calf with a grudge and was in a lot of pain.
“Aww, come on, Ellie. Don’t be so stupid.”
And that was totally the wrong thing to say. It wasn’t enough that she’d already opened my door, she actually unbuckled her belt, got out of the car and stormed around the hood, pulled the door wide open, and invited me to leave her shit colored vehicle.
“Enjoy your walk,” she hissed as she leaned in closer to me. “And don’t forget to take your painkillers.”
“Seriously?”
Ellie jutted her tiny chin out and tapped a foot. “Yep, seriously, Hunter.”
“I was joking, come on, Ellie.”
“Goodbye, Hunter,” she ground out.
By the way she was breathing heavily through her nostrils I knew she wasn’t going to change her mind, so I snatched open the belt and dropped my feet to the dry, dirt ground. The track was bumpy, the sun beating down, and what would normally be a little stroll for me was going to be murder on my aching ribs.
“Well thanks for the help, Ellie,” I said as I leaned into her space. “Really appreciate it.”
She gave me a smirk of satisfaction and I had a sudden urge to throw her over my knee and smack her ass—I’m pretty sure I would have if I hadn’t been in so much pain.
“Sometimes you can be a real bitch, you know that.”
She nodded. “I know and sometimes you can be a real dick. I reckon that makes us equal.”
As I walked away, I looked over my shoulder wondering whether she might change her mind, but she was already walking back to the driver’s side of the car. A couple of things stuck in my head as I watched her, and both made me feel uneasy. First off, her ass looked fucking amazing with the extra swing of anger in it and second, well shit, my dick seemed to agree with my head.
Ellie
I had been wracking my brain for a couple of days on how I could bring Carter and Bronte together, but nothing was forthcoming and the reason – they damn well hated each other. As for Hunter he’d been about as much use as chocolate coffee pot. He’d actually dropped my call twice after I’d called the house and got his cell number from Janice-Ann. I’d told her it was about his pain medication for his ribs, and she seemed to believe me because she spent the next twenty-minutes telling me all about the yellow bruising that was creeping up his side.
I was probably overreacting about Bronte’s crush on Jefferson, but I knew her, and she was likely to do something real stupid that would have a devastating effect on all our families.
If for any reason she managed to persuade Jefferson into her bed, there would be no way that all our parents would be able to remain friends. It would cause a huge split in their little group, a group in which most of whom, bar my mom, had been friends since high school; a group who had helped Jefferson through the hardest time in his life.
Mine and Bronte’s dad had stayed with Jefferson for two days while he cried and drank bourbon after Sondra’s passing; they’d been his rocks. Sondra had also been Mom’s closest friend and had been from the minute she’d moved to Dayton Valley to marry Jefferson at twenty years of age. Mom hadn’t been here long either, plus they were a similar age. They became firm friends, welcoming Darcy when she started to date Jim a year later. My mom still to this day, cried for her lost friend. They were a real close group; we’d even been on camping holidays together when we were kids. To think that Bronte’s need to bed Jefferson might ruin all of that was totally unacceptable. I had to stop her.
I would have had more faith in Jefferson to keep her at arm’s length if he wasn’t such a dog with the ladies, but he seemed to be on a one-man crusade to bed as many women as breaths he took; evidently where Hunter got
it from.
The thought of Hunter made me growl. Mom threw me a look.
“What the hell’s wrong, baby?” she asked as she put a huge plate of chicken parmesan in the middle of the table. “That face you’re pulling is ugly enough to crack a looking glass.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom,” I muttered, picking up my cell and considered calling Hunter, again.
“You know what I mean. Stop splitting hairs with me. So, you going to tell me?”
I looked up at her and pursed my lips as I thought about it. If I told Mom I knew she would help me, and it did look like Hunter was going to be any use at all. I opened my mouth to say something when Dad came into the dining room holding a bottle of wine.
“Hmm, smells good.” He slid an arm around Mom’s waist and kissed the side of her head. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
“Can you go call your brother please, baby.” Mom smiled warmly at Dad, her interrogation forgotten as he took his seat at the head of the table and made goo-goo eyes at her.
They were in a damn romantic mood today and that could be even more annoying than their bickering mood or their horny mood. Romantic mood saw them smiling dreamily, giving little kisses and holding hands at any opportunity. At least the horny mood usually saw them disappear to their room for a few hours which meant I didn’t have to witness their weirdness.
Glad of a few seconds of respite from the smoochy noises as Mom moved behind Dad to wrap her arms around his waist, I went to the bottom of the stairs and shouted for Carter. He had come over for Thursday night dinner and had been taking a call in his old room for the last ten minutes.
“Carter,” I yelled for a second time when he didn’t appear straight away. “Dinner.”
“Okay, okay,” he complained as he emerged from his room. “I’m coming.” He started to descend the stairs as he pocketed his cell.
“Who was that?” I wondered if it was Hunter and he’d actually started with our plan.
“No one you know,” he said as he jumped the last two stairs and ruffled my hair. “A friend.”
