by Lauren Dane
Elise pulled to a stop in her driveway and looked into the backseat. Rennie was asleep, her well-loved blankie curled against her side, pillowing her head, pale blonde hair spread around her face.
An ache, both sharp and sweet, spread through Elise’s chest at the sight of the unlined forehead, the trouble-free face of sleep. Seattle had been very good for the both of them. Hard, yes. A long way from the life Rennie had known and Elise had been supported by. There’d been no choice; there was nothing left but pain for them in New York. But, wonderfully, they’d begun to place roots there in the Northwest. Rennie was settling in, making friends. Rennie even expressed an interest in sports. Her baby girl—oh hell, not a baby anymore; the kid was nearly seven, going on forty—was coming out of that dark place they’d both been in.
More than that, Elise felt safe for the first time in a decade. That was more precious than she cared to even contemplate for very long. The price had been higher than she’d ever imagined. But, she thought as she bent to ease Rennie from the seat and carry her into the house, there was no way but forward, no direction but up.
As she made herself a late dinner, she took in the space they now called home. Over the weekend she’d hung up the art she’d stuffed into the van they’d driven out from New York. The couch, on sale at a local store, had come a few days prior. Red. Red with white cushions. Just looking at it made her happy.
The area rugs she’d collected over the years as she’d traveled the world covered the shiny wood floors. The house was earthy, colorful and warm. A big change from her silver and pale blue Manhattan condo.
A needed change. Warm and earthy suited her, damn it, and it would keep on that way. Rennie’s recent artwork splashed the refrigerator doors with color and lent that extra bit of home. One positive she got from her father.
Shaking her head, Elise moved back to pleasant things. She made a mental note to thank her friend from the NBT who’d hooked her up with some local people and gotten the word out about her school. That word had given her enrollment numbers a huge boost. The bills would be paid, and in a year or so they might even be turning a profit.
Rennie appeared to be making friends in her summer camp program, which kept her busy during the day and worked most of her energy out, much to Elise’s relief at bedtime. They’d gone furniture shopping and gotten new beds for each of them. Their nightly routine included grabbing some groceries and heading home.
Glorious and totally, utterly normal.
The fact that she lived without fear occurred to her in the same way you notice when crickets suddenly start up in the summer. Life springs around you and you realize it’s going to be okay.
Her left leg was fine. Elise could still dance better than 95 percent of the population, but she’d never be a primary dancer again. She’d never dance with any major company, because her body would not hold up under the stresses of that life. Age was a factor now, but mostly it was the damage to her right leg and the multiple dislocations of her shoulder. Her balance wasn’t as precise, her strength not quite enough.
In that, Ken had won. He’d taken that dream from her.
But simply by standing there, happily enjoying a rage-free home and a glass of wine, Elise had won. And she had absolutely no intention of feeling guilt for surviving. Rennie needed her. Moreover, Rennie needed to see her mother as a woman who stood tall instead of wincing in fear. Who took what life had to offer with both hands and forged a place for herself instead of waiting for someone to provide it for her.
Through it, Elise knew she’d be a better person for herself too.
Elise worked in her front yard, cleaning out the flower beds and getting some new plants in. As she did, it wasn’t like she couldn’t take a look from time to time as a new, hot-looking bad boy rode up on a big motorcycle. For someone so big and sort of scary-looking, that guy who lived across the street was pretty hot. His friends too. Apparently Elise had a thing for bad boys. Hmm. Well okay, so that wasn’t so much of a surprise, but hopefully the bad on those boys was the good kind.
And since this was just a conversation going on in her head and all, it was nice to know that after two years of having sex with no one but her hand or her toys, her libido could still rev up at the sight of something so spectacularly male. She could look, store up some fantasy fodder for her dates with her hand and also know men like her neighbor were totally out of her league.
But holy shit, all the hard thighs encased in faded denim, the tight asses, the tattoos and general bad-boy air going on was more than enough to overcome any discomfort at being on her knees in the dirt. She had on sunglasses and a ball cap, so it wasn’t like they could see her ogling them or anything. She could objectify and fantasize to her heart’s content. Mmm.
The earth was warm, the scent dark and rich as she dug and planted, tore out and worked. It felt good to make a physical change with her hands. To create a difference in her environment.
“Momma, we need more pink flowers. We don’t have enough pink.” Grinning, she looked up the filthy legs of her monkey of a child and into a face dirtier than her clothes. “I’d be challenged to find a spot on your body not covered in dirt. Honey, have you been eating dirt?”
“Ew! As if! But a girl has to get her hands dirty when she’s working in the garden. That’s what Gran says.”
Elise laughed, thinking of her mother saying exactly that, though usually as she ordered someone else around to do the gardening for her while she watched.
“We can go to the garden center later today, if you like. Then you can pick out the flowers you’d like to plant. Maybe after we get some lunch. What do you say? A girls’ lunch date and then some shopping?”
Rennie’s big blue eyes lit. “Awesome.”
“First, you need to be cleaned up and changed. Good Lord, I should just hose you off out here.”
Rennie squealed as Elise grabbed the nearby hose and gave her daughter a squirt. The squealing rose in volume and pitch as Rennie grabbed the watering can, tossing the contents at her mother.
“Oh, I’m gonna get even with you for that!”
Rennie hooted some smack-talk her way as she streaked through the freshly painted arbor over the opened backyard gate, her mother in hot pursuit.
Ben looked up from his bike and toward the noise across the way and then back over to Brody. “Dude, when did you get a new neighbor? I thought an elderly couple lived over there.”
Brody caught the sight of two females, one grown chasing a smaller one, laughing, water spraying from the hose. He smiled briefly at the idyllic scene and the flash of pale blonde hair as they rounded a corner. “Dunno. I noticed a new car in the driveway, but whoever they are I haven’t met them yet. Maybe a young family or something.”
“Maybe a hot single mom,” Cope, Ben’s younger brother, added. “That would be nice.”
“I’m not looking for hot single moms. I don’t need any baggage or ex-husbands hanging around.” Christ, why would he? There were plenty of single women without kids and exes around. Anyway, she probably had a husband, not that he’d noticed one way or the other.
Cope snorted and got on his bike. “Not for you, dumbass. For me. You can get your own pussy, I’m not your pimp.”
“Don’t fuck anyone in my neighborhood, Cope. The last thing I need is to be involved in a situation where some woman is brooding over you when you dump her. Don’t fuck where I sleep.”
“You wish I’d fuck where you sleep.” Cope raised a brow, smirking before he slid his shades up over his eyes.
“Ha! If I liked men, yours wouldn’t be the ass I coveted. You’re too short. I couldn’t fuck you without bending my knees and straining my back. Plus, you’re not as hot as your brother, who I’d totally fuck if my sister wouldn’t kill me.”
Ben laughed, tossing a towel at his little brother. Considering that Ben was fucking not only Erin but her husband Todd, who was also Ben’s boyfriend, Brody wasn’t too far off the mark. Both on Ben’s attractiveness and his sis
ter’s willingness to kill anyone who tried to filch one of her men.
“I’d be fucking you, old man.”
Brody barked a laugh. “Now it’s you wishing. Stop harassing my neighbors and their children and let’s get this show on the road.” Brody snorted, shaking his head as he climbed aboard his bike and keyed it on. He slid the strap of his helmet home, tightening it, and adjusted his ass on the seat. A new splurge, comfortable for long rides just like the one he was about to take.
Six of them roared down the street, toward the freeway and a day of riding out in the gorgeous weather. Freedom.
After getting Rennie down to bed, Elise had puttered around the house, folding laundry and returning some phone calls. Then, at long last, she locked the door, ran a bath, grabbed a book and a glass of wine, and settled in for a nice soak.
The bathroom had been remodeled some years before, so it was larger than it would have been for a house this age. It was one of the reasons she had bought the place. Huge jetted tub with a garden window and a skylight. Just the place for an aging dancer to soak away the day’s stresses.
And, she thought as she soaped over her nipples and they stood at attention, a nice place to masturbate too. Her eyes drifted closed as she thought of him. Of the dark-haired giant across the street.
His voice would be low, she decided, low and gravelly as he talked dirty in her ear. He’d bend her over a desk, or a table, kick her ankles wide to spread her open just for his cock.
Hard. His body would be hard against hers as he fucked her. Furiously, deeply, so much so that little grunts of air would emerge from her lips each time he slammed home.
Her soap-slicked hand slipped down her belly, finding her pussy ready. She teased around her clit as she continued to think of him. Of how he’d pull out and pick her up, depositing her on the tabletop and settling in between her thighs.
Ken had hated oral sex—the giving of it anyway—but it featured mightily in all Elise’s fantasies. She’d loved it when the men before him had done it for her. Wet, slick mouths on her pussy, tongues working against her clit. So intimate to be touched that way. A man like the guy across the street would do it and he’d love it.
Her middle finger slid back and forth over her clit as she imagined his tongue would move. She’d arch up into his face, unashamed, demanding more. And he’d give it to her, making her come before straightening to slide his cock back into her, even as her inner walls still jumped from climax.
She would be able to do nothing but lie there, rolling her hips to take him deeper as he fucked into her body. His eyes would burn into her like a caress until he got closer to climax.
Her breath came shorter as she neared her own climax, imagining how his neck would tighten, how the muscles on his forearms would cord as he gritted his teeth and came into her, hot and so wet.
She let go, coming, and sliding beneath the water as she could still imagine the scent of the sweat on his skin.
3
Elise enjoyed the early afternoon quiet as she used the long-handled roller to spread paint up and down the section of fence just to the left of her porch. Rennie played with Barbie and My Little Pony on the porch, singing one of her numerous made-up songs that made Elise grateful to have birthed so fabulous a person.
On a Saturday in the early summer, the street was rife with activity, everyone in the yard or dealing with a car. Children riding bikes or roller skating. None of it was overwhelmingly loud, just a quiet hum of activity. Soothing rather than jarring.
The hottie from across the street walked toward his mailbox at the curb, and Elise paused to watch the lope of his strides. Long and sure. Today he wore a black T-shirt and jeans so faded they were pale against the flip-flops on his feet. She wondered what his hair would feel like. Soft?
Close-cropped, it only highlighted the bold lines of his face. Some men were so handsome they were pretty, but this one was . . . not pretty. He was hard. She blushed as she remembered the nights of the past week, using her toys and her fingers to make herself come as she thought of him.
Wow, that guy was going really fast for a residential neighborhood . Elise straightened, checked back over her shoulder to be sure Rennie was still on the porch and out of harm’s way before she looked back out again, only to see the dark sedan careen to miss a trash can and, instead, clip the hottie, tossing him against his mailbox as the car peeled away.
Adrenaline filled her, spurring her to action. “Rennie, get the cell phone and the first-aid kit! Now!” she called as she ran toward where he’d fallen.
Rennie quickly obeyed, pressing both into her mother’s hands just moments later. One-handed, Elise dialed 911, relayed the information and handed the phone off to Rennie, whom she’d ordered up onto hot guy’s lawn, out of the way of a return trip by the hitand-run driver or the arrival of the aid vehicles.
Elise wasn’t a stranger to first aid triage. She held the memories at bay and pretended to be someone else while she stanched the bleeding on his forehead and checked him for other injuries. Her hair had fallen from where she’d had it loosely knotted, but she didn’t want to let go of the pressure on his wound, so she let it fall into her face.
His eyes flickered open here and there as he fought unconsciousness, but he never seemed to focus on her at all. During one such moment of his partial consciousness, she smiled down at him, hoping she was at least somewhat comforting. “Hold on. You’re going to be all right. Help is on the way.”
He licked his bottom lip and closed his eyes again, God help her, the sight tightened things low in her gut.
It wasn’t too much after that when the sound of a siren punctuated the afternoon and paramedics pushed through the crowd surrounding them.
She reassured him quietly, keeping out of the way as best as she could. And when he opened his eyes, focusing them on her, seeing her for the first time as the paramedic knelt beside them, she felt the connection all the way to her toes.
Her pulse jumped as he blinked thick, sooty lashes shading big, brown eyes. He smiled, crooked through the neatly trimmed goatee and mustache. “Angel.”
She laughed. “Not so much. You’re going to be all right, Mr. . . . Um, yeah, I don’t know your name.”
“Brown. Brody Brown.” No slurring, so that was good. A bit of tension in the words, probably soreness and pain. But his pupils looked fine.
A cop stood to her left and she multitasked, speaking to the officer about the car, the license plate and other details while making sure Rennie kept her booty away from the street.
The paramedics got him onto a board as she kept her eye on them, making sure they didn’t jar him. He grumped at the paramedics, bitching about being bumped around. She smiled down at him, touching his cheek, sliding her fingertips into the surprising softness of his beard. “Okay, Brody Brown, stop fussing and let them take care of you. I’m talking to the cops right now. I’ve got it handled. Do you want me to call anyone for you?”
“You’re not real.”
She laughed. “My electric bill says otherwise. I’ll lock your house up for you, all right?”
“On my phone, in the hall, push one. My sister.”
She nodded. “All right then. I’ll go now.”
They told her where they were taking him, and she stood watching as they drove away, then she headed into his house.
She didn’t expect what she saw inside, even just from the entry near the phone. Neat. Lived in, but neat. Hmm. Elise grabbed the phone, steeling herself for a call she was frightfully glad she wasn’t on the other end of for a change.
Erin groaned and leaned over Todd’s body to grab the phone. Late nights under his talented hands were more than worth the sleepiness the next morning.
“Hello, Brody. Why on earth are you calling my house at ten on a Saturday?”
“I’m sorry to wake you up. I’m Elise Sorenson. I live across the street from your brother. First let me tell you he’s fine.”
Erin sat up, awake instantly. Todd stirr
ed, his handsome face creasing with the concern he must have felt when he saw her reaction.
“Is everything all right?” Nausea swamped her, her heart pounded.
“He’s had an accident. They’re taking him to Harborview right now. He asked me to call you.”
Erin scrambled up and began to get dressed as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder.
The woman on the other end gave her details but kept her cool. Erin really appreciated that level voice as the fear threatened to tear reason from her head.
Ben came in carrying a cup of coffee and wearing nothing more than a smile. Sweet baby Jesus, was he pretty to look at. Even better, when he saw the look on Erin’s face and Todd getting dressed, he simply put the mug down and began to dress as well.
“Thank you, Elise, I appreciate you calling and locking up Brody’s house too.”
“Not a problem. He’s going to be all right. He was conscious enough to be grumping at the people getting him in the ambulance and to tell me where the phone was to call you.” She paused. “If you need anything, please feel free to call me. I’m just across the street.”
Erin liked this Elise Sorenson. The woman was no-nonsense and calm, two qualities Erin needed and appreciated right then. She hung up after giving Erin her phone number and offering to help if she could, kindly waving away Erin’s profuse thanks.
“What’s going on, gorgeous?” After she dressed quickly, Ben handed her the coffee, now transferred to a travel mug, and the three of them headed to the door.
Thank God for them. Her men, her everything. She rose on tiptoe to kiss Ben and then Todd. “Brody got hit by a car. They’re taking him to Harborview. His neighbor called. She says he’s all right, but I’ll feel a lot better when I see for myself.”
Todd nodded, taking the keys. “I’ll drive. You call Adrian on the way.”
Ben put an arm around her as they drove to the hospital, and Adrian was, thank goodness, just getting back from an afternoon television appearance in New York.
