Evan's Wish: A Romantic Comedy

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Evan's Wish: A Romantic Comedy Page 8

by Robin Stone


  “Don’t listen to him,” I said. “There are different ways to stand and throw. Just do what’s comfortable for you.”

  “Chill out, Handler,” Travis said. “Just trying to help.”

  She threw the three darts again and didn’t do half bad. Drew handed me some darts, and I tossed a few.

  “You’re good,” Brooke said.

  Most of the guys sat back at the tables. Travis lingered nearby, much to my annoyance. Brooke and I took turns playing. Her cheeks grew pink as she laughed and threw darts.

  “Oh, damn!” she said. “That was an awful throw.”

  I put my arm around her and pulled her in for a kiss. Her eyes closed as she pressed her lips to mine.

  “Hmph,” Travis said, wandering off.

  “Hey, get a room!” Drew yelled.

  Brooke blushed. I put a possessive hand on her hip.

  “Wanna get out of here?”

  She looked up at me through her dark lashes. Damn, her eyes were such a pretty shade of blue.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Good. I wanted to get her out of those jeans and spend more time exploring her body.

  “We’re gonna take off,” I told the guys, pulling out my wallet to pay for our food and drinks. I knew exactly how much it was and included a healthy tip for Jenna. I tossed the bills on the table.

  “Aw, come on.”

  “You just got here!”

  “Where’s my twenty bucks?”

  “Have another beer.”

  “Nah, I’ll see you guys later,” I said.

  Brooke picked up her bag. “It was nice to meet you all.”

  “See ya!”

  “Bye.”

  “Don’t do anything I would,” Travis said, wiggling his brows.

  I took Brooke’s hand, and we headed out. Once we got back to my truck, Brooke turned in her seat to look at me.

  “I don’t think you liked it when Travis touched me.”

  I started the engine. “I’m not usually the jealous type, but no, I didn’t like it.”

  “Well, you have nothing to worry about. Take me back to the room, and I’ll prove it.”

  My cock was growing in my jeans. I pulled out of the parking lot and tried not to speed.

  Thirteen

  Back in the suite, I tossed my keys and wallet on the table while Brooke sat down and pulled off her boots.

  “Oh, I have an extra key for you,” she said. “And I added you as a guest at the desk.”

  She walked over to the counter and picked up a key and handed it to me.

  “It’s funny that they still use old keys. Thanks.”

  I put the key aside and kicked off my shoes. Brooke grabbed my hand, led me to the bedroom. She immediately reached for my jeans and started unbuttoning them.

  “Now,” she said. “About Travis. He’s the flirty type, always touching. Standing too close.” She unzipped my jeans, revealing the bulge in my underwear. “I’ve been with guys like that. But I like you. I chose you.”

  I slid my hands into her hair and kissed her, pushing her back until we reached the edge of the bed. I stopped and tugged off my clothes.

  Brooke pulled off her shirt, and I helped to remove her jeans, sliding them down over her curvy hips and calves. Pulling her against me, I kissed her again, my cock pressing against her through the fabric of my underwear. I reached behind her and unfastened her bra, tossing it aside.

  Grabbing her by the waist, I tossed her on the bed, and she laughed. I climbed onto the bed and hovered above her, just taking her in—her soft breasts, the gold chain at her neck, and the cute pair of hip-hugging underwear just begging to be pulled off.

  “Can I take these off?” I asked her.

  “Yes.”

  I peeled them off and tossed them aside, and then laid beside her. We kissed again, more urgently this time, her tongue pressing against mine. I grabbed her thigh and lifted it over my hip. Her skin was so warm with her breasts pressing against my chest.

  My cock was like iron, jabbing against her. We spent a long time kissing and stroking each other. I wanted to be inside her, but I was thoroughly enjoying the foreplay.

  I pushed her onto her back and slid my hand down to her pussy.

  “I’ve been thinking about getting you naked all day,” I said.

  “Ohhh.”

  Her nails dug into my arm, and she squirmed under my touch. She was damp, but I wanted her soaking wet. I kissed her neck, then sucked on her earlobe.

  “You’re so damned sexy. Every guy in Cooper’s was checking you out, but I liked knowing you’re mine.”

  Kissing her breast, I drew her nipple into my mouth until it pebbled. Warm fluid rushed over my fingers, and I rubbed her clit until her breathing grew ragged.

  “Evan! Oh!”

  “That’s good. So damn good. Are you getting close? Am I doing it right?”

  “Yes!”

  Her thighs clamped together, and she came, crying out and digging her fingernails into my arm. She bucked and moved against my hand, so sexy, powerful, and beautiful. I kept rubbing until she moved my hand away.

  “Should I get a condom?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I scurried off the bed, my cock bobbing comically in front of me, and dug into my pocket until I came up with a strip of three condoms—a hopeful amount.

  Tearing one off, I opened it and rolled it on. Climbing back on the bed, I hovered over her again, rubbing my cock against her. She reached down, holding my shaft, and guided me inside, and I slowly sank into her heat.

  She put her hands on my cheeks and pulled me down for a kiss. I waited a few seconds before starting to move. She felt incredible, and hiked her legs up around my hips.

  “Oh, God,” she said.

  I reached under her thigh, hiking it up around my waist. Our movements were slow at first, then after several minutes, grew more frantic. I moaned and swore, knowing I wasn’t going to last.

  “You feel so. Damn. Good,” I said.

  I slowed down, wanting to last, but that familiar tingle started in my balls. I slid forward, grinding hard against her clit, wanting her to come, and she tightened around me.

  Her legs squeezed me, and her heels dug into my thighs. I didn’t want it to end, but she cried out, coming, squeezing me hard, and I quickly followed, grinding hard against her and moaning.

  “Damn,” I said when we finished. “Damn.”

  A few minutes later, I slipped off her and went to the bathroom to ditch the condom. When I got back, she was lying on her side, smiling.

  “Hope you got your money’s worth,” I said.

  “You should charge extra for that technique of yours.”

  I climbed back into bed and kissed her, then settled on the pillow facing her.

  “So, why do you want to buy a house so badly?” she asked.

  “I’m getting sick of apartment living. I want a yard where I can grill out with my friends, play football. Hell, I want to mow the lawn. Or make Matty do it.”

  “So, what’s your brother getting his degree in?”

  “Sports medicine.”

  “That sounds interesting.”

  “Yeah, he’s done really well. He even hit the dean’s list a few times. I never thought he’d even go to college, let alone finish.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Matty had a drug problem when he got out of high school. He took a year off to work and think about going to college. He met some other kids at work who gave him pot, then he moved onto harder drugs.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “Yup. My mom was devastated. We finally talked him into going to rehab. Well, forced him into it, really.”

  “Did it work?” she asked.

  “We got a call one day that he’d left. Just up and left. My mom was hysterical. We drove around everywhere he used to hang out. Finally, he showed back up at rehab about twelve hours later.”

  I remembered the heart-pounding panic as I climbed
into the car and drove Mom around. She had her purse on her lap and kept twisting her hands around the handle. Her face got paler and paler the more places we stopped.

  When I pulled up to one of Matty’s druggie friends at two in the morning, my mom begged me not to go in.

  “But what if he’s in there, Ma?”

  She started to cry. I got out of the car and went up the sidewalk to the front door. I pounded on it, and eventually a woman with dark hair opened the door.

  “What the hell?” she asked.

  I pushed my way inside. “Is Ray here? Where is he?”

  “Who the hell are you? Get out of my house! RAYYYYY!”

  “What the fuck, Ma?”

  Ray came out of his room, rubbing his eyes and scowling. He stopped when he saw me.

  “Where. Is. Matty?” I stalked over and shoved him against the wall so hard, the pictures rattled. “Where is he?”

  “Dunno. I haven’t seen him since he went to rehab!”

  “I’m calling the cops,” his mom said, picking up her phone.

  I walked past both of them and looked in the bedrooms and bathroom for Matty. When I came out, they were just staring at me, open-mouthed.

  “Get the fuck out of my house!” Ray yelled.

  “Stay the hell away from my brother!” I said, jabbing his chest with my finger. “You got me? Stay away from him!”

  “Alright, man! Jesus!”

  I stalked out of the house, slamming the door. Mom was silent in the car. Finally, we headed home to eat and get some rest. I had just pulled into the driveway when the phone rang. The rehab center called, saying he came back.

  My mom sobbed in relief. I put my head on the steering wheel and closed my eyes, then I went into the house and slept for nine hours straight in my old bedroom. After Mom and I got up and ate, we went back to rehab to see Matty and talk to the doctors.

  Matty had dark circles under his eyes. He said he just couldn’t stand being cooped up in there anymore and went out to walk around and get something to eat. He said he didn’t use any drugs, but I didn’t believe him.

  “He went back and finished, and when he got out, he applied at colleges and worked until the acceptances started rolling in. He’s smart as hell. I knew he’d do okay once he got clean.”

  “It’ll be nice for you two to have a house,” she said. “I can understand that.”

  “I know he won’t live with me forever. But I figured it would be nice for me to have a home when I meet someone and get married someday.”

  Silence. Several seconds ticked by before I realized what I’d said.

  “I mean, if I get married someday.”

  “Sure,” she said.

  Fuck. For some reason, I felt bad.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I have some ice cream in the freezer.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Let me guess. Cookie dough?”

  “Yup. Do you like it?”

  “Yeah, I’ll have some.”

  She got up and put on her robe. She rustled around in the kitchen, scooping ice cream into bowls. I looked down at the messy sheets. I was having fun with Brooke, but this was just for a couple of weeks. I’d get paid and turn in my key, and I’d be out of her life.

  “Okay, here we go, cookie dough ice cream.”

  I sat up, and she gave me a bowl. It was a cozy scene, me and my nakedness, covered only by a sheet. And Brooke with her messy hair and bathrobe.

  It was the kind of thing I’d do with a girlfriend…or a wife.

  Any guy would love to be in my position—having sex for a paycheck. I just didn’t count on just how smart and sexy this woman would turn out to be, or how much I would like her.

  I was starting to see just how complicated this could get.

  Fourteen

  A few days later, I went to the suit shop after work to order a tuxedo and picked up my other clothes. I couldn’t believe I was getting fitted for a tux, but we were going to a big fundraiser, and it was formal.

  “Why can’t I just rent a tux?” I’d asked her last night.

  “Every man needs a tuxedo,” she said. “Besides, you’ll be wearing it twice. Once for the fundraiser, and for the awards dinner.”

  “Still, I could rent one twice.”

  “But a fitted tuxedo will look so much better,” she insisted.

  I stopped arguing since it wasn’t worthwhile.

  “What are you wearing?” I asked.

  “I ordered a dress online and brought it to my seamstress for alterations.”

  “You have a seamstress?”

  “She’s not my personal seamstress. I go to her shop in town.”

  The men at the shop were more accommodating now that they knew I had money to spend. They certainly wouldn’t have given me a second look otherwise.

  “What color tie would you like?” the salesman asked me.

  “Black,” I said.

  Brooke had told me to get a simple black bowtie. I didn’t even know how to tie a bowtie.

  “Could you show me how to tie this? I’ve never worn one before.”

  “Certainly. Come over to the mirror and I’ll show you.”

  He put one on, showing me what to do. Then I put it on. It took me a few tries to make it look right.

  “Excellent,” he said. “Try it a few more times before the big night, and you’ll do fine.”

  I paid for the tux and arranged to pick it up another day. Then I texted Liam to see if he was free, but he didn’t answer. My nerves were jittery, and I found myself taking out my phone and calling Julia.

  “Evan,” she said. “How can I help you? Did you get the tuxedo?”

  “Yeah, I paid for one, and they have to make some alterations. But I have a problem, and I was wondering if you could help me out.”

  An hour later, I was sitting in a small conference room at Turner Real Estate with Julia. She had laid out a formal place setting on the table with all the utensils, glasses, and plates. I had no idea where she got everything, but I didn’t question it. She had even arranged a red cloth napkin in a rose shape.

  “Water glass. White wine glass. Red wine glass. Champagne glass.”

  “Jesus, four glasses?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure how many glasses they’ll use, so I’m showing you four. On the left—salad fork, fish fork, dinner fork.”

  “Fish fork?” I grinned. “You need a special fork to eat fish?”

  “If there’s a fish course. But you might only have two forks, the salad, and the dinner fork.”

  She went over the knives and spoons, then quizzed me on everything.

  “Now,” she said. “What’s the first thing you do?”

  I looked at the utensils, trying to remember everything.

  “I pick up the salad fork—”

  “No, you need to spread the napkin on your lap.”

  I picked it up and pulled it open, then placed it on my lap.

  “Don’t flop it around.”

  “I wasn’t flopping it.”

  She took it from me and expertly rolled it back into a rose shape and placed it back on the plate.

  “Try again.”

  I tried again, then she walked me through a meal, making sure I touched each utensil. She even went over what to do after the meal, including the placement of utensils, and putting my napkin down.

  “I think you’ll be proficient now,” she said.

  “Thanks, Julia.”

  “And don’t forget to pull out Brooke’s chair every time she goes to sit down. And try not to curse. And be polite.”

  “I know.”

  She gave me a lopsided smile. “You’ll do fine. Good luck, Evan.”

  The night of the fundraiser quickly approached. I’d picked up my tuxedo and practiced tying my bow tie until it came out perfectly.

  I was thoroughly servicing Brooke in bed every night. She was good at communicating what she did and didn’t like, and she was so responsive to my touches. I kissed her goodbye in the morning,
wearing my uniform as she ate breakfast in her robe. At the end of each day, she greeted me with a kiss.

  We took turns cooking dinner in the small kitchen and going out to eat. Brooke had fronted me more cash to pay for our dinners out.

  “You can take it out of my final pay,” I told her.

  “Not necessary,” she said, as if handing over six hundred dollars in cash was no big deal.

  The night of the fundraiser, I got dressed, carefully tying the perfect bow in my tie. Brooke was in the shower, and Julia had come over to help.

  “Stay in the living room while we get ready,” Julia said. “Or better yet, go wait downstairs at the bar. Don’t have more than one drink, though.”

  “Why do I have to wait down there? I can just stay in the living room while you help her in the bedroom.”

  “She’ll want to make an entrance,” Julia said. “Let her have that. Downstairs and at the event. Remember, you’re supposed to be the charming but supportive boyfriend who fades into the woodwork.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “It’s nothing personal, Evan. It’ll make her feel special. Now go wait downstairs.”

  “Fine.”

  Grabbing my wallet, I went down to the lobby. I checked my appearance in the mirror—tie, straight. Hair…mostly straight. Shoes, nice and shiny. I had to go to another store to pick out new black shoes and socks.

  I paced a little over the plush carpet in the lobby, then I went into the large restaurant bar. I thought about going to the small bar in the back to see if Charlie was there, but from here, I could see her as she walked through the lobby. Part of the restaurant’s walls were glass, and I watched people walk in and out of the hotel.

  The restaurant was pretty quiet, with only a few people sitting at tables eating. A man sat nursing a tall glass of beer at the other end of the bar as I slid onto a stool.

  “Nice tux,” the bartender said. “Heading to a party?”

  “A fundraiser,” I said.

  “Cool. I’m Amanda. What can I get you?”

  I ordered a soda, which I drank slowly. I kept checking my watch. Why did it take women so damn long to get ready?

  “Waiting for someone?” Amanda asked.

 

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