by Marika Ray
12
Rhett
The snorts of laughter grew in volume. We were definitely making a scene in the wood paneled clubhouse where we’d placed our lunch orders. Even the cameramen weren’t attracting as much attention as our table of comedians.
“I’ve—never—had so many—golfers—play through!” Frank slapped his hand down on the tabletop, startling me into spilling a bit of the beer I was trying to drink onto my lap. If he didn’t quit laughing and start breathing soon, he might asphyxiate. The other two were right behind him. Even Mr. Prim and Proper Jasper the Baronet looked ready to pee his pants.
I felt my mouth curve up even though they were laughing at me. And had been laughing at me for four straight hours. We didn’t even end up finishing eighteen holes as intended. We’d let so many groups play through to account for my slow progression, we decided to cut out after the ninth hole. My best hole was ten strokes. I think you can imagine how horrible the others must have been and how long we took on each hole. The guys had refused to leave me behind, so I slogged through. Although I think they only stayed with me to watch the train wreck in motion, not for any “leave no man behind” type of friendliness.
The club chair was well padded, which was necessary at this point so my back didn’t give out. I swung that fucking club so many times I think I did permanent damage. I always thought golf was a sport for old guys, but man, did my back and ab muscles ache right now!
“All right, all right. Settle down, gentlemen, before we get kicked out. I’m glad I could provide some entertainment for you today. How about we plan our next outing?” I lifted my glass over the middle of the table and the guys lifted theirs too. “To new friends.”
“Cheers!” they all echoed back.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get away again. I have a packed schedule coming up.” Frank shook his head, pressing his lips together like he regretted his goat enterprise, when in fact, it was all he could talk about.
A new server came to our table with our food, setting down each plate carefully. “Anything else I can get you, boys?” She was young, maybe mid-twenties, which was why the “boy” comment caught my attention.
John reached over and slid his arm around her waist, tugging her into him. I felt my eyes bug out of my head. What was he doing? He must have known her, I surmised. But the server’s smile morphed into a frozen grimace, which made me think she didn’t know John at all.
“How about your number, sweetheart?” John said to her, a swarmy grin on his face.
She giggled and maneuvered out of this grip like it wasn’t the first time that little song and dance had happened to her. “You’re so silly,” she cooed as she walked off, swinging her hips.
John spun around in his seat and began to eat his chicken club sandwich. “I’ll have her number by the end of the meal, just you watch.” He winked at me and kept eating, the sight of him turning my stomach.
Jasper just chuckled and kept eating. Frank didn’t say anything except for flicking a glance over at John before digging into his salad.
Ignoring my cheeseburger, I had to say something. “Dude, you’re married. There are literally three cameras recording everything we do right now.” I tried to keep my voice down, but it wasn’t easy. I wanted to punch the guy.
John looked up, surprised. He put his sandwich down and wiped his mouth. “You okay, Rhett? I was just flirting. It’s harmless. It makes the waitress feel good and I know I still got it. No harm, no foul.” He smiled, his blinding white teeth cheesier than the weather guy on Channel Four news.
“But that’s someone’s daughter, someone’s sister,” I sputtered. “More than that, she’s someone, period. She didn’t ask for you to touch her and yet you just did without her consent. That’s never okay. Besides, how would you feel knowing Lavender was doing the same with other men?”
John chuckled nervously, his voice dropping lower. “Lavender cuddles with men all day long. I think a little flirting on my part isn’t a problem. Now mind your own business, O’Donnell.”
“You haven’t been married, Rhett. Once you and Gabby get hitched, you’ll understand that a little flirting keeps the sparks alive at home.” Jasper nudged my arm, trying to lighten the mood.
I stared at the side of John’s face a few seconds longer, wishing the carefree, jovial atmosphere from just a few minutes ago was back. All I felt now was a brick in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t grow up with a little sister or have daughter of my own, but I did grow up with a mother who taught me what it was to respect a woman. John not only disrespected that server, he disrespected his wife.
Knowing I couldn’t do much to change John’s opinion, other than to live by example and stick up for what’s right, I picked up my cheeseburger and shoved it in my mouth before I said something that would get me kicked off the show. I had to keep my cool, play the part, and do what Gabby was hiring me to do. She definitely wouldn’t want me getting into a fight with the guys and alienating us even further from the other couples.
I had to look away from John to keep my cool. Instead, I focused on Frank. Good ol’ dependable, quiet Frank, who didn’t flirt with the server or try to tell me it was all innocent fun. Glancing down at his salad, I tilted my head.
“Isn’t that goat cheese on your salad, Frank?”
His fork fell from his hand to clank on the side of the bowl. He whipped the napkin off his lap and spat out the bite he was chewing, his face turning white beneath his tan.
The table erupted in laughter again and that was how I turned around the outing and got us safely back to subject matters that wouldn’t cause bickering. These guys weren’t my people, that was for sure. I just needed to remind myself repeatedly that I wasn’t here to make friends. I had a job to do and for my paycheck’s sake—but mostly for Gabby’s sake—I’d get it done.
“Lucy, I’m home!” I called out when I opened the front door and stepped inside the house.
Gabby poked her head out of the kitchen and then came to the front living room, dish towel in hand. “Hey, aren’t you too young to know about I Love Lucy?”
I took her towel and put it on the entry table where I kept my car keys. I loved it when she teased me.
“May I have this dance?” I put my hand out and she took it, a look of doubt on her face I intended to erase. Pulling her in, I wrapped my arm around her waist and poised our clasped hands up high in the air and began to waltz her around the entryway.
She giggled, but followed my steps like a pro. Soon, we were both grinning from ear to ear at the absurdity of waltzing around the house to silence, her in cut-off shorts and a tank top, and me in my dirty, sweat soaked golf clothes.
I ended our dance with a dramatic dip, already disappointed to have to let her go when I pulled her back up. “Too young to know I Love Lucy or how to waltz? I think not, Ms. Cole.”
She took a step back and put a hand on her chest. “Oh my. I stand corrected, Mr. O’Donnell. You’re quite the old-fashioned charmer.”
That warmth was back in my chest as I stuck my elbow out and escorted her back to the kitchen. As we rounded the corner, a waft of smoke hit our noses.
“Oh shit! The spaghetti!” Gabby raced forward and shut off the stove while starting the overhead fan. She tried to grab the handle of the huge pot, but I snatched her hand back with a hiss. Opening drawers in rapid succession, I found the potholders and moved the spaghetti to the countertop.
Gabby came up next to me with a large spoon and two plates, scooping out the top layer of noodles that weren’t affected. By the time she got to the burnt, black layer of noodles stuck to the bottom of the pot, we had enough for dinner. After all her trouble, I didn’t want to tell her I’d just eaten a late lunch and wasn’t all that hungry. A woman cooks you dinner, you eat it like a starving man eating the best food ever made in the history of cooking.
Her cheeks were pink, whether from the heat of the spaghetti or from embarrassment that it had burned, I didn’t know. I just kn
ew she was beautiful. And I couldn’t wait to tell her all about my day and hear her laugh over my inability to hit a ball with a stick. Or her opinion on flirting when you were in a committed relationship.
It had happened so quickly, this desire to have every day be just like this one.
I was beginning to wonder what I’d do when this farce of a relationship was over and I didn’t see Gabby at the end of every day.
13
Gabby
The water hit my chest, stimulating overstimulated nipples that didn’t seem to understand that Rhett wasn’t our real boyfriend. I’d taken to frequent showers this week, just to have a quiet moment away from the cameras and constant acting. Okay fine, nosy bitch, it was to have some quality time with my vibrating friend. It was the only thing getting me through this charade with a hot ginger gifted with muscles hardening every inch of his body, and who also had a soft heart. Killer combo, every woman would agree.
Plus, a girl had needs, okay? It had been a solid year since I’d had a boyfriend.
Steam built up in the room, overpowering the tiny fan in the ceiling. I closed my eyes and rested my head back against the shower wall, pink toy barely making a sound above the pounding of the water on the tile floor. I’d met a lot of gorgeous men in my thirty-four years on this planet and yet my mind went right to Rhett in those tight white golfer’s pants and teal-blue-collared polo that hugged his rounded muscles just right. The way he smiled all the time with those dimples flashing when he found something extra amusing.
And then I went back to the picture I’d taken and filed away to pull out at exactly this moment. Rhett, just barely awake, standing by the bed with McThunderstick peeking out the top of his underwear to wish me good morning with a one-eyed wink. My body was buzzing, chasing after that elusive orgasm that would put my libido back in the box for the time being.
I licked my lips and pictured him lowering the front of his underwear to let the Cock-a-saurus Rex out of its cage. The head bobbed for a moment, right before he gripped it with his hand and gave it a tug. My mouth watered, just thinking about swiping my tongue across the tip, pulling his hand away, and taking as much of his length into my mouth as was humanly possible. Rippling abs flexed the minute I ran my hands up his torso, then back down again to grab his ass, the globes of muscle rock-hard under my touch.
A wave of pleasure shot down my spine and threatened to break. An imagined thrust of his hips into my face, a pressure on the back of my throat, and I let go, tumbling after all the pleasure I’d been denied for far too long.
The faint buzz seemed louder post-orgasm. Blinking my eyes open and coming back to my senses, I clicked the button on my toy a thousand times before it went through all the settings and finally turned off.
“I better get out of the shower before I cause another widespread drought,” I mumbled to myself. I shut the water off and wrapped a towel around me, then hid my toy in the back of the linen closet inside the bathroom. We’d have to go through twenty clean towels before anyone found my hiding spot of debauchery. Let’s just hope Rhett didn’t decide to wash both our cars one day before I got a chance to move my stash.
“Gabby?” Rhett called me through the door.
A flush that had nothing to do with the heat in the room had my cheeks on fire at the sound of Rhett’s voice. Double-checking the towel was securely fastened around me, I cracked open the door, letting the steam billow out into the bedroom.
“Yes?”
His gaze immediately dropped to take in my towel-clad form, what little of it he could see between the doorjamb and the door I gripped tight. The blue of his eyes darkened the longer he looked. He gave his head a quick shake and went back to meeting my eyes. His hand lifted and ran through his hair, the long strands on top lying askew in the aftermath and only adding to his adorableness.
“Um, I was thinking we could get out of here when you’re done working today. I have two stand up paddleboards we could use. We could swing by my buddy’s place to pick them up and then head to the beach. Supposed to be a gorgeous day. Super calm ocean.” He flashed that smile, the one that brought me to my knees—or brought me to my vibrator if we’re being truthful—though I wouldn’t mind a trip to my knees if Rhett was around.
I wrestled my thoughts away from the gutter they’d been in since I woke up and pictured myself on a stand up paddleboard in the middle of the ocean. That visual was enough to clear the fog from my brain.
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for sports that require balance. Or that have sharks waiting for you if you fall.”
A dimple winked and I rejoiced.
“Come on… You’re with someone who grew up on the water. I promise to keep you safe.” The pleading was masterful, I had to admit.
“Today?” I wrinkled my nose, running through all the things I’d planned to do today, which wasn’t actually that much.
Rhett leaned against the doorjamb, suddenly only inches away from my nearly naked self. My hair was plastered to my skull, no makeup in sight, and if he looked hard enough, could he see the pleasure I’d given myself just moments before? Once again, I was uncomfortable around him. No, that wasn’t right. I enjoyed his company and his closeness. It’s just that he put me on edge and made my heart race, in the best of ways. In the weirdest of ways. I’d never responded to a man quite like this.
“Come on, Gabby,” he whispered in a low rumble. “Let’s throw caution to the wind and be spontaneous today. Go where whim takes us and experience nature’s wild side.”
I raised an eyebrow. “That sounds awful.”
Rhett barked out a laugh, the vibration reaching me as I leaned against the opposite side of the same doorjamb.
“How about this? If you can honestly say you didn’t have any fun when we’re done, I’ll cook you dinner tonight. Something super elaborate and tasty, dessert included.” He waggled his eyebrows and I couldn’t stop the smile from tugging on my lips.
“Okay, fine. But where’s the cameraman going to go?”
Rhett straightened up. “Leave it to me. Just get ready and put on sunblock. I’ll meet you downstairs.” He spun around and left, leaving me wondering what I’d just gotten myself into.
“You sure this thing will make it?”
We were rumbling down the Pacific Coast Highway in Rhett’s beast of a vehicle, the engine louder than those mufflers young kids put on the back of their crappy sedans to sound badass. Rhett swore that the best SUP—apparently all the cool kids just used the initials—location was in Redondo Beach, which lay south of my house in Manhattan Beach.
His ancient Land Cruiser was actually nice inside, if you liked throwbacks to the days of rough fabric seats and windows that gave you an arm workout if you tried to crank them down by hand. Rhett shifted gears like he could do it in his sleep, but I wondered if I could even make it from first to second gear. I’d learned to drive a stick shift as my father insisted, but hadn’t driven one since that one time when I was sixteen.
Rhett threw me a dirty look. “Lucy is more dependable than most of the cars out here on the road right now. And I don’t need a fancy computer to run diagnostics to tell me what’s wrong with her.”
I rolled my lips in to stop the laugh.
“Lucy, huh?”
Rhett shrugged sheepishly. “I kind of liked I Love Lucy reruns growing up. She was hilarious and the only female comedian of her time.”
I tilted my head, considering what kind of guy Rhett could be if he noticed things like the lack of female comedians throughout television history. I was impressed.
But I kept my mouth shut and grabbed the handle above the passenger side door as he exited the highway and pulled into a beach parking lot, downshifting quickly. I didn’t trust this thing not to drop the engine somewhere along the road, leaving us to Fred Flintstone our way to the beach. He may have watched I Love Lucy, but I bet Rhett didn’t watch Fred and his fellow cave people have prehistoric adventures.
Hell, I didn’t either. I wasn’t
that old.
“We are here!” Rhett pulled into a parking space and killed the engine.
I let out a long breath.
“Seriously? You thought Lucy wouldn’t get us here?” Rhett was looking at me like I killed his puppy. “This classic was my father’s. I loved to work on it with him before he passed. The only reason Hewitt didn’t take it when our father died was because he thought it was worthless. But she’s gotten me through high school and college.” Rhett paused. “Hewitt could never see true beauty.” He looked at me, his expression dead serious.
I knew what he meant, what he was trying to say. “I agree with you there,” I whispered back. I grabbed the door handle and slid my way out, ignoring the way the door groaned and squeaked as I opened and closed it. I could just see Hew rolling his eyes and ignoring this car. If I wasn’t careful, I’d turn into Hew with my automatic judgements and blinders over my eyes. That was a sobering thought.
Rhett jumped out and pulled a paddleboard from the back of the vehicle. “Why don’t you set up our towels over by that lifeguard tower while I get the boards?” The cameraman assigned to us lumbered over from his car with his camera already on his shoulder and filming.
Rhett grabbed the board by the handle in the middle and walked out onto the sand like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, I hustled to follow with just the towels, my lungs wondering what the hell was going on already. The cameraman was behind me and I could hear his labored breathing, which only made me feel marginally better.
When both boards were on the sand at the water’s edge, Rhett waited for me to take off my shorts and tank top, then helped me put on a floatation device in case I fell in. The thing was hideous, but considering the chances were high I’d fall in, I put it on willingly.
Rhett whipped off his shirt, exposing all those muscles and valleys that called to my fingertips. I looked away, pretending to be studying the water so I wouldn’t stare or drool inappropriately and be caught on camera.
