by Casey Hagen
He laughed, the sound high and thin as he jammed his hands through his hair. “Look. Don’t overthink this. You don’t need to plan for anything because I have us covered, if we decide to go there. If, Mabel Lee.”
“You’ve been ready for this the entire time?”
“My dad sucked at a whole lot of things, but that was one lesson he drilled home. I haven’t left the house unprepared since I was fourteen.”
“Fourteen!”
“Yes.”
“You were having sex at fourteen?” She looked around for the shriek and realized it was coming from her.
A couple on the bench nearby snickered, and her face flamed.
“No. I was just prepared. And when the time comes for us, you won’t have to worry about that part. I’ll protect you.”
Was there any wonder she was falling for him? Not that she’d say anything. Not yet. “What about the others? I mean, I’m not jealous or anything, but you said that at one time you used to—well—sleep with customers. Have you been checked for—”
“Yes. Every year,” he said with a pained expression. “At Big Shift, it’s part of our contract, but even without it, I’ve always been good about that.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, that’s it?”
“Yes, I asked you, and you told me. So…okay.”
“I swear there is not another woman even remotely like you on the planet.”
“One might say that about mutants.” She patted the bench next to her. “Come sit. I don’t bite.”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “It means everyone else is missing out because I’ve got you.”
She laid her head on his shoulder, and he tucked her under his arm. “What are you doing a week from Saturday?”
“Not sure yet, why?” he asked, his chest rumbling under her cheek.
She traced a nail over the curve of his pec, and he caught her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips.
“I thought maybe you would go to the wedding with me as my plus one.”
“You must have RSVPed a while ago. It’s a bit late, isn’t it?” he asked, tucking her hand around his waist.
She tilted her face up to his, and the breath stuttered in her lungs. God, he was a beautiful man with that strong jaw, the one dimple, and those dark-green eyes of his. And out of all the women he could have, the women who threw themselves at him constantly, he was here. With her.
“Not when the bride is your best friend,” she said.
His fingers slid into her hair, and the exquisite sensation made her eyelids heavy. He kissed her. Not light. Not flirty. But deep and strong, leaving no doubt that he claimed her body and soul.
She gripped his waist and held on while he made love to her mouth. Her body was no longer hers, but under his control. If he had her at his mercy with just a kiss, what would happen when they finally spent the night together?
“I’d be happy to be your plus one, Juliet.”
Darkness crept in, and with it mosquitos big enough to kidnap young children. “You mentioned your father earlier. Do you mind if I ask where he is now?” she asked as they strolled back toward the parking lot.
“I couldn’t tell you,” he said, the muscle in his cheek jumping as he grit his teeth. He hadn’t considered how or if he’d alter the truth about his dad. Really, could anything be worse than the lie he was harboring?
“Couldn’t or won’t.”
He sighed and gave her a brief smile. “He took off. He was in a rehab in Arizona, checked himself out, and no one has heard from him since.”
“Oh.” She chewed her lip, and for a minute, he thought she might let it go. “Do you miss him?”
He pondered her question. He’d never really let himself think about it. Instead, he’d been so furious that a grown man who had spent the first half of his life having his shit together could fall apart so spectacularly, that any sort of real feeling for his father had been buried under a mountain of anger. “I miss the man I needed him to be.”
“What about your mom?”
“What about her?”
“Are you two close?” she asked.
“Not really. I know it’s hard to believe considering how much you adore me,” he winked, “but I was a prick in my early teen years, and she remarried. I caused a lot of problems in the house, so I went to live with my dad.”
“They just got rid of you?” she asked, her voice all wounded and indignant. He loved that she wanted to defend him, but he knew he’d been the problem.
“I wanted to go. I needed to go. I was angry and defiant. If I’d stayed, who knows where I would be today. My mom ended up having a couple more kids. I have a brother and sister, both in high school now.”
“Was it because you didn’t want siblings?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want them, but when you’re thirteen, the last thing you can imagine is playing with toddlers. I missed my dad anyway and figured it would give us some time alone.”
“Your dad didn’t always have a problem then?”
Dangerous territory. You’re getting in the weeds, man. “No.”
“That’s it. You’re not going to elaborate.”
Yup, definitely in the weeds. The only way out is if she gives you one, or you need to add more lies to the heap. “No.”
“I miss my dad,” she said with a rough sigh.
“Tell me about him.”
She stared off, a smile flitting her plump lips. “He was always kind, funny—often silly.” She let out a ragged breath, and her chin wobbled. “I think the last time I remember my mom being happy was dancing in his arms in the middle of the living room before everything went wrong.”
“Went wrong?” Another strike against him. He was really going to pretend he didn’t know.
“My father hired a contractor who stole the church’s money. A lot of people blamed him, but it wasn’t his fault. Stuart Mouldon, up until that point, had an impeccable reputation, so how could he know? There are members of our congregation who held a grudge for a long time. Even now, they use it as a sort of tagline on the heels of their advice. ‘Be careful, Mabel Lee. You don’t want to be taken advantage of like your father.’ It’s exhausting.”
“And disrespectful. Is that why your mama is so…protective?”
“You don’t have to hesitate. It’s not like I don’t already know. She’s overbearing. And yes, that has a lot to do with it. She lost the love of her life. Her best friend. And instead of just letting her grieve the loss and move on, she’s been under constant pressure to keep the peace and let comments about my dad slide. Every single one like a barb to her heart leaving her so hardened that I don’t even know who she is anymore sometimes. She’s been on this tightrope for years. I’m not sure she even knows how to get off of it at this point.”
“Maybe it’s time to turn the tables on your mama and give her a push.”
“You know, it might just be. Why don’t you come to dinner and meet her? I know I handled things badly at Lulu’s, but I’d like to do this right and introduce you the way I should have. As my boyfriend.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely. What if you came over for dinner Monday or Tuesday night?”
“I can do Tuesday, but Monday I’m busy.”
“Hot plans, huh?” she asked with not one shred of malice or calculation in the question.
“Yes, the Georgia sun burning a hole in my back while I put in a ramp for Rosie.”
“Who’s Rosie?”
“My next-door neighbor…and the reason why I still dance,” he said. He hadn’t really been holding out for any particular reason other than maybe to test Mabel Lee and see if she was really okay with the idea of dating a guy who took off his clothes a couple nights a week. They’d spent quite a bit of time together, had some awkward as fuck conversations prompted by her curiosity, and still there wasn’t even a flicker of a hint that she cared one way or another.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
&n
bsp; “She doesn’t have anyone, and she had a stroke. She needs help, not that the stubborn woman will admit it. So the money I earn dancing goes toward modifications to her home. The rest I’m putting away in case it gets bad enough that she needs to go into a medically assisted facility. She’s kind of a surrogate grandmama with a dirty mouth. She’d love you.”
“I’d love to meet her,” she said.
He’d love for her to meet her, too. The two most important women in his life, both ends of the spectrum, yeah, he’d have a hell of a time, in a good way. With their heads together conspiring against him one thing was for sure, not a single moment from then on would be boring. They’d keep him on his toes nonstop.
“I’ll tell you what. If you don’t mind hot and sweaty, why don’t you stop by on Monday. If you spend some time with her, she’ll stay out of my hair while I’m working. She’s a hell of a micromanager if you don’t keep her busy. I’ll text you the address.”
“It’s a deal.”
14
Saturday brought horrendous rain showers all morning, but by noon, the dark clouds rolled away on a cold front that knocked the temperature back to the low eighties. Aurora had called the campground to verify they were still okay to camp to find out that some dirt had been washed away, and pine needles sat in wet clumps throughout the campsite, but the owners had already begun cleaning up the firepits and grill areas so campers could settle in.
Kellen called her the night before and told her that he had the tent, bed, and bedding covered. That was, if she didn’t mind sleeping with him.
Duh. She hadn’t been able to think of much else. She’d seen him from head to toe so there were no surprises, but he hadn’t seen her, and she had to wonder, with how many naked women he saw day in, day out, if he’d find her body lacking.
So, there she stood in front of her full-length mirror, examining what she had to offer.
She tilted her head and pursed her lips.
Her hips flared the way most womens’ did. Not too wide, but shapely. She had smooth thighs, just not muscular like many of the dancers there, but that was to be expected since she worked in an office, and teetering on modest heels for church events was not a sport.
Although, maybe it just should be.
Nothing kept a woman on her toes better than being under the microscope of a cluster of haughty Christian biddies waiting in line for potluck with their girdles cinched a couple inches too tight.
As for her breasts, well, she’d never really paid much attention before. They weren’t overly large, but they definitely weren’t small. She filled out a wrap dress well, and the one time she’d tried on a push-up bra at Cassidy’s insistence, it had launched what she did have right under her chin. That’s the day she learned she might have a touch of claustrophobia.
She looked womanly. And soft. With a slight roundness to her belly and curvaceous backside. More curvaceous than she had realized since her love of dresses pretty much hid that, and she didn’t make a habit of looking herself over while naked.
She didn’t have to wonder if he was attracted to her. The heat in his kiss, the way he surrounded her with his strong arms, and the shiver that rippled through him when she returned the heat—no, attraction wasn’t an issue.
And he’d done everything to prove he wasn’t the type of guy to reduce her to just a body, so why was she even thinking about it?
She stared at the shorts laying on the foot of her bed.
She had to wear shorts. That might be what really had her nerves on edge.
She picked out an ombre peasant blouse made of the same fabric as her favorite dresses and paired it with jean shorts that made her mama’s eye twitch when she had first seen Mabel Lee in them.
In just under fifteen minutes, she’d dressed, put her hair up in a ponytail, and finished packing her overnight bag.
She’d just turned the A/C up when he knocked on the door.
Yanking open the door, she leaned against it and smiled. “Hi,” she said, curious at his reaction.
His lips parted, and his gaze roamed over her. His hands clenched at his sides, making his fingers turn white. “Wow, you’re just—wow.”
“I’m assuming this is a good thing?”
“Very.” He scratched his chin with this thumb and shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the dresses. I mean, really love the dresses. They make a man think of—nevermind. But seeing those beautiful legs and your curves—uh, yeah. I might be hard-pressed to look away.”
“There’s not another man on this planet that I would want checking me out.” She pushed up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his.
It was supposed to be a small kiss. Just a peck really. But the minute she tasted him, she craved more. Dark rich coffee with a hint of mint had her diving in and taking.
She needed his arms. She needed to feel his heart thundering against hers.
He growled against her mouth, and the rigid set of his shoulders fell away. Hunching over, his arms cocooning her, he took control of the kiss, leaving her no choice but to hold on for the ride.
Engulfed in the hot storm of attraction, she nipped at his bottom lip, unable to get enough.
He grunted and plundered her mouth with his tongue, his hand under her chin, both firm yet gentle as he held her still while he tasted and teased.
The blood in her veins soared, leaving her lightheaded and off-balance as every last part of her begged for more of his touch.
This hunger, hot and out of control, couldn’t be subdued. Not with his mouth on hers, nor with the hand pressing against her spine.
Not with the way he hardened against her, stoking the fire and her curiosity.
“No,” he ground out, taking her hand.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Your hand wandering toward my—listen. Not like this. I’m not going to paw at you and take you right here against your doorjamb. Shit.”
“You’re mad,” she whispered, wondering if she read him wrong. But how could she have. Her lips still burned with the lingering sting of his bruising kiss.
“No, I’m not mad,” he said, pulling her in and hugging her tight. “When it happens, I want it to be special for you. For us.”
His lips lingered on her forehead, and she wrapped her arms around him. “I keep pressuring you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happens to me. The minute I taste you…I don’t know. I can’t control it.”
Kellen held her in his arms, his hand fisted on her belt loop while she mumbled into the narrow space between them.
He wanted that enthusiasm, he wanted her to be sure, but he remembered what she said about making love fireside and if they were going to have their first time this weekend, it wasn’t going to be getting a nut off in her doorway.
“Same goes, Mabel Lee. Same goes. Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said with one last glance in her meager apartment, his gaze landing right on her bed. He closed his eyes with a ragged breath, tossed her bag over his shoulder, and reached out his hand to her.
Down, boner. Down, boner. Down, boner.
Mabel Lee leaned forward and caught his attention. “You okay?”
“Yup, never better,” he lied.
“You look a little…pained.”
Yup, about as pained as a pecker shriveled from a polar swim. Ironically, it’s the same kind of pain as the world’s worst erection. Who knew?
“Nah, not at all. Why don’t you fill me in on who all’s going to be there. I know about your lady friends, Aurora, Cassidy, Layla, and Heather, but you’ve never really talked about the guys they’re seeing.”
“Jeff is Aurora’s fiancé. He’s a corporate attorney. They’ve been together for about three years now. Cassidy is with Dave, and they have a puppy that they may or may not bring camping. He’s a fitness trainer at Crossroads Gym in Macon. He’s not the obnoxious kind though. He doesn’t flex his muscles for attention and munch on kale twenty-four seven. Actually, he’s probably going to let his clean eating go entir
ely for this trip. Don’t be surprised if you see him inhale five hotdogs and wash them down with a six-pack of beer.”
“That’s disgusting,” he said.
“It really is, but he’s fun, and it’s his body, so I say have at it. Now, Layla and Heather work together for the county foster care system. Don’t be offended if they don’t get into specifics about their jobs. They’re not really allowed, and sometimes it’s so depressing that the last thing they want to do is go into it in their off time.”
“I won’t say a word.”
“Layla is with Hunter. He actually manages a gun range and does special weapons training. Heather is with Kyle, and he’s a mechanic.”
“So, we run the gambit from executive to blue collar. Interesting mix of friends you got there, Mabel Lee.”
“They’re the most real people I know,” she said quietly.
“The people in your church aren’t real?”
“Some of them. But the others, they’re about as fake as they get.” She focused on the world going by outside her window. She looked so out of reach and sad, and damned if he couldn’t have that.
“But not Mr. Johnson. I would think he’d have to be someone special. I mean, he’s had his teeth on your breast and everything.”
Her head snapped around, and she sputtered out a laugh. “God, don’t remind me. I actually told my mama I won’t be at service tomorrow on account of this trip. I’m hoping with the week reprieve, he’ll forget where I pulled them from. And if Preacher Dawson could forget finding me in the dumpster with a choir robe and crown, that’d be great, too.”
“If they’re anything like you say, I have a feeling that not only do they remember, but they’ll be talking about it for a long time to come. Maybe even tomorrow.”
“Oh, God. Don’t say that,” she groaned.
“Is there anything you can do about it?”
“No.”
“Okay then. Doesn’t matter. Let them talk,” he said shrugging it off, hoping she’d take his lead.
