Saying Yes

by Edie Sommers

  The sneer returned to her lips. She, too, used bristles to keep people at bay. “If you’re the jealous type, you need to leave him alone now. He’s a good man, and a good-looking man, and there’ll always be someone who wants to take him from you.”

  I held her gaze in the mirror long enough to find the answer I sought. “True. But not you.”

  Her frown softened. “No, not me. I’ve known him all his life. Him and his brother too. They deserve the best. Tell me, are you the best?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But I sure as hell won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He wants me here with him, here I’m gonna be.”

  Her glare softened. “Then be good to him. When he acts like an ass, understand that it’s just a test, and pass that test, okay? Now, I gotta get back to the bar. Nice talking to you.”

  Somewhere, somewhen, Jack had been hurt. I didn’t doubt this hardened woman might take a knife to me if I added to his grief. Friends who’d kill for you didn’t come easy. Jack had to be the good man she claimed to win such deep respect.

  I emerged from the ladies’ room to whoops of laughter. Jack spun in the middle of the dance floor. The bar patrons had formed a circle around him, clapping in time to the country hoe-down. Muscles flexed beneath his jeans as the man put on a show. Clogging, two-stepping, and some bizarre form of line dancing, Jack threw all the moves in—with class.

  When he acts like an ass, it’s just a test, the woman’s words came back to me. I waded through the crowd and joined my date.

  Arm and arm we left the place in the early A.M. I couldn’t remember when I’d had so much fun. Jack swung me around the parking lot and seemed to forget himself. He opened the truck door and lifted me onto the seat. I opened my mouth and invited his tongue inside. We kissed in the middle of the parking lot for all to see, though few cars remained. I’d never danced so much, with so many different people. Line dancing rocked.

  Jack pulled away with a sad smile and took his place under the steering wheel. “You have a good time?” He backed the truck out of the parking lot.

  “You have to ask?” I bounced my leg in time with the radio.

  “They like you, you know,” Jack said after a long pause.

  “Who?”

  Jack kept his voice to a low murmur. “My friends, all those folks you danced with.”

  Names and faces became a blur in my mind, but they’d been smiling faces. “I like them, too.”

  “Good. I’d like to bring you back here some time. That is, if that’s okay with you.”

  An uncertain Jack was something I’d never expected to see. “I’d like that.” And I would. Only, the expiration date on our romance might be closing in.

  Each time with Andy, I ended the date sure of my choice. Yet my dates with Jack kept me off-kilter. They were two distinctly different personalities, and awesome men, each in their own way.

  Fraternal twins, too, so though they favored and were obviously related, they varied in looks as well as temperament.

  This time Jack let me walk on my own to my house. “Mind if I come in?” held more of the innuendo he liked to lace into his normal conversations.

  I unlocked the door and stood to the side. “Yeah, there may be monsters in the closet to run off.”

  He’d been in my room before, when he and Andy had helped me move in, another time to help me install a ceiling fan. Now, however, an electric current flowed around us. We both knew why we were there, and yet neither seemed willing to set the wheels into motion. Soon we’d cross a line and couldn’t go back.

  Inspiration struck. He liked music. I turned on my old stereo system, finding a local country station. I stepped up to him, took him into my arms, and rocked back and forth. Turning my face up, I swayed to the rhythm until he relaxed and swayed with me. He hummed deep in his throat, deep into a kiss.

  Every inch of my body screamed for his touch, and his tousled waves felt soft to my fingers. The scent of him, the solid muscles, the guttural groans, all combined to light a fire deep within me. Staring into each other’s eyes, a two-twenty current hit me. I wanted him. More than I’d wanted anything else in my entire life.

  With one more kiss we passed the point of no return, minds made up.

  Lights down low, I unbuttoned his shirt, kissing each newly exposed bit. A dark mat obscured his skin in places. On impulse, I lightly bit one dark nipple. The groan he let out must have started from his toes. Lovely. My men liked attention to their nipples. Good. I liked it too. I pushed his button-down work shirt off his shoulders and ran my hands down his arms. Solid, rugged arms. Arms that lifted me easily. I must admit to liking the notion of being literally swept off my feet. Maybe I’d read too many bodice-rippers in my teens. Maybe it was just damned fine to be eight feet tall, with his arms cradled under my ass, to be let down, inch by delicious inch, with a good long stop at mouth to mouth height.

  He eased me back down on the floor. I unbuckled his belt and dropped to my knees, pulling the zipper of his jeans down and unfastening the button.

  I took a steadying breath. I wanted this. Judging by the bulge in his jeans, he did too.

  Reaching inside his jeans, I felt nothing but skin. Holy hell! Commando! Score! I slipped my hand farther inside and worked his cock out of the denim that needed to be gone. A drop of moisture gathered at the tip, beckoning me to taste.

  I licked the drop away and opened wide. Sweat, his natural musk, and traces of fading cologne filled my senses, making my mouth water. God, how my pussy throbbed. I rubbed myself through my jeans.

  “No need for all that,” he rumbled. “I can take care of you.” He lifted me and sat on the bed, settling me half-lying down in his lap, and snaked a hand into my jeans. The moment he rubbed my clit I nearly came.

  I stood and shimmied my boots and socks off. Why the hell had I worn three-button jeans? Buttons that defied my trembling fingers.

  Jack helped me out with a knowing smirk, and I slipped my jeans and panties off while he exposed every bit of his skin. Our cast-off clothes lay mingled on the floor. He fished something out of his jeans’ pocket and beat me to the mattress. I turned and resumed the task at hand, my head toward the foot of the bed, his toward the head. A thick finger slid into me. Oh, yeah. I shoved back, taking the finger deeper. Jack rubbed me just right, not hard enough to hurt, not soft enough to leave me hanging. In, out, in, out. He took me to the edge and held me there.

  I nearly screamed when he stopped, but the sound of tearing cellophane sent lightning strikes through my belly. We were going to do this. Soon I’d know how good his hands felt on my breasts, how well he filled me.

  The world turned upside down. Jack joined us, mouth to mouth and groin to groin, with him on top, taking his weight on his arms. He eased into me, a little at a time, spreading me wide with his width. Fuck! I writhed on the bed, grabbing fistfuls of sheet.

  I shoved back, urging him on. Damn, he was big. He plunged into me, again and again, melding his mouth with mine. Wrapping my legs around his waist and my hands on his ass cheeks, I pulled and pushed, seeking more.

  Oh God! Oh God! Right… there! I threw back my head and he mouthed my neck, sending more tingles through me. Any hotter and I’d combust. He nipped at my shoulder, cupping my ass and adjusting the angle. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!

  Ahhh! I grabbed his shoulders and rolled, pushing him onto his back with him still inside me. I bounced, taking all of that thick length—hard.

  Nothing subtle or gentle here. Jack fucked like he did everything else—as though it would be his last act on earth. The bed squeaked, the headboard rat-a-tatting against the wall. “Ah, ah, ah…” My brain shut down and the tides drew back. Waves crashed down, rolling me, pulling me under, and dragging Jack along for the ride.

  A foggy haze dulled his shout. He rammed into me and held. Liquid heat settled deep inside of me and exploded. Wave after wave of shuddering bliss.

  I collapsed onto Jack, boneless. If I moved at all another aftershock made me shiver.
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br />   He held me close, breathing as hard as I was.

  What now? Would he get up, get dressed, and leave? “Stay the night?” I rallied enough brain cells to ask.

  Without a moment’s pause, he answered, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  If there’d been any monsters lurking in the closet, the squeaking bedsprings likely scared them off.

  11

  Memorial Day dawned beautiful and clear.

  I’d just stepped out the door when my neighbors met me on the porch. “Hey, Cassie.” Be still my wildly beating heart. Both of them. Together. Smiling at me.

  Oh God! Did they talk about me? Compare notes?

  The blood suffusing my face had to give away my thoughts—namely, them naked. No way they couldn’t know what happened between me and the other. What should I do? What should I say?

  “Um…” Okay, maybe I should just keep my mouth shut.

  They performed a bit of their unspoken communication.

  What I wouldn’t give to be privy to their private thoughts. I tried again. “What’s up?”

  More eye contact, then Jack acted as spokesman. “Got plans?”

  “No.” Actually, I’d planned to fantasize about these two, since Monday meant a few days until the next date, and Memorial Day meant no work. Nine-volt batteries weren’t the only kind I’d picked up at the hardware store.

  Left to my own devices, I’d wear out a few of those batteries before the day ended.

  They grinned. “Come with us, then,” Andy said.

  Jack finished the thought with, “We’re gonna go ride horses, maybe have a picnic at Grandpa’s.”

  After Saturday night, I really should have turned down the horseback riding expedition on Grandpa’s farm, but what better way to make my decision than to see my two suitors interacting?

  I’m not sure what I expected, a bit of hostility, or chill in the air, but no. It’s as though we’d turned the clock back to before this whole thing began.

  I sat in the passenger seat of Jack’s truck, with Andy sitting behind me in the back seat. We didn’t say much, the silence companionable rather than awkward, Jack humming with the radio.

  “There’s one!” Andy pointed out the window.

  “There’s another.” Jack nodded toward the road ahead of us, where a late model Ford braked for a stop sign.

  “One what?” I asked.

  “Car we sold,” Jack said. “We play this game sometimes, seeing how many ‘Getsinger Motors’ bumper stickers we see.”

  It had never occurred to me that, given we lived in such a small town, a large percentage of the population bought local at their car dealership.

  I squinted out the window, looking for the familiar stickers I’d seen many times on their own vehicles. “There’s one!” I shouted, pointing.

  “Okay, we all have one. Let’s see who can find the most.” Jack pointed again. “Two for me.”

  “What does the winner get?” I asked.

  He grinned, as did Andy, who poked his head between the front seats. Heat flashed up my face.

  I redoubled my efforts to find those darned stickers.

  And won with seventeen.

  “Where is that spot again?” Jack wheeled his horse around.

  My quiet nag put her head down and nibbled grass. I hated when she did that. Headless horses made me feel I’d tumble over their shoulders onto the ground.

  Andy pointed.

  “Oh yeah.” The lopsided grin I loved so much made an appearance on Jack’s face.

  Dear little Buttercup, the half pony/half horse, followed behind the guys, docile thing that she was. Glad one of us could claim mild manners. But since they knew where we were going and I didn’t, I’d have to play Follow the Leader. Yeah, on a tiny buckskin starter horse. The same one they’d used to teach their cousins’ kids to ride.

  “We coulda been there already if we’d taken the four-wheelers, like I wanted to.” That was Jack, Mr. Gotta-do-everything-now.

  “On foot we would’ve gotten to stop and look at the wildflowers. Show Cassie where we used to play.” And probably still be hiking three hours from now, if Andy’d had his way.

  Walking through wildflowers just might set off Andy’s allergies and we’d end up at the urgent care clinic.

  “Horseback is still a nice way to take in the sights,” I blurted. Like the denim-clad fantasy material in front of me. I breathed deeply of honeysuckle and freshly mown hay. “What’s gonna happen to this place when your grandfather moves?” A pond came into sight at the bottom of the hill.

  Andy and Jack exchanged a glance, that odd twin communication again. Jack said, “He’s leaving the place to us.”

  What? No! “I’m losing you for neighbors?” Here I was worried I might lose them as friends, and never considered I might lose them as neighbors.

  My heart sank to my stomach. No Jack? No Andy? Until then, I’d never realized how happy simply seeing their vehicles in the driveway made me. Or hearing Jack singing in the shower that backed up to my own bathroom.

  Even watching them climb the steps in the evenings. Knowing they were at home made me feel safer.

  I might lose that security?

  Andy replied, “Just one of us.”

  One. Not both.

  Why did that bother me so? Whoever moved out here wouldn’t be far away. Only, ever since I’d known the brothers they’d been close. I couldn’t imagine them living apart, though I guessed it must happen eventually, if they found someone to make a life with. Maybe have kids with.

  The visual of them with a wife plunged a knife into my heart.

  No Andy and Jack to cook out with, shoot the shit with, admire from a distance?

  Jack twisted around, his horse’s tail swishing back and forth over a rounded black rump. “Grandpa thinks it’s time we settle down and started families. So one of us will stay in town, the other’s gonna move out here.” A muscle in his jaw twitched.

  God, I’d hate to witness that coin toss.

  Andy faced away from me, so no way to read his expression. Over the past few months I’d seldom seen either one without the other, until we started dating. Now they planned to live fifteen miles apart. Something didn’t add up, but since not even Jack was talking, I let the subject go.

  Flowers bloomed, and green ropes of kudzu hung thick off the oak trees. Birds sang, the horses snorted, and every now and then Jack pointed out, “Look at that!” for anything from a fox at the edge of the clearing to a hawk swooping in for the kill.

  “So y’all grew up here,” I said when the silence grew too much to bear.

  Jack dropped his horse back next to mine. “Sure did. Me and Andy played all over these fields as kids, rode four-wheelers, looking for downed fence lines. Played in the creek.”

  Easy to picture two boys running wild here, burning off youthful energy. Easier to picture Jack though, than Andy, currently sucking on an asthma inhaler. Poor guy. To love the country and wide-open spaces, only to have them torture him in return.

  Jack resumed facing forward. “When we got older, we hauled hay. Bunch of us local boys got together, went from farm to farm. Made us some good money.”

  They never mentioned a mother, and rarely their father, just the grandfather who’d raised them.

  Visions came to mind of a future here, my own children ripping and romping through these fields. Jeez! I’d only been seeing the guys a few weeks. After our dating experiment ended one or both might decide never to speak to me again—if it took that long.

  “Down there.” He’d been quiet so long that Andy’s soft words brought me out of my musings with a jolt. We headed down the hill closer to the pond. Please, Lord, let Buttercup not prove to be a swimmer.

  She stopped by the water’s edge. With my horse’s rump in the air from the hill, and head down, I nearly sailed over into the pond. “Steady now, I got ya.” I blinked down at the man by my side, Jack’s attitude and words in Andy’s body. Jack leaned against a tree a few feet away, casu
al-like, bunched muscles in his arms and thighs.

  He’d let his brother have this moment, but body language said he wanted to be the one taking care of me. Andy helped me off the horse and I nearly fell. Between riding men and the saddle from Hell on Buttercup’s back, I might never walk again.

  Following Jack’s lead, I clipped a lead to Buttercup’s halter and removed her saddle and bridle. Andy did the same for his horse. We all rambled through saddlebags for pieces of a picnic lunch. I helped Jack spread a blanket on the ground. Andy got busy doling out sandwiches, potato chips, and sodas.

  “When was the last time you’ve been on a picnic?” I stopped munching long enough to ask.

  Jack scratched his nose. “Can’t rightly say. But when Grandma was alive, she’d pack a lunch, bring us down here to fish, and sometimes we’d stay all day.” He stared off into space, perhaps remembering good times.

  “What about you?” Andy asked.

  “I don’t really remember either.” The folks at work had looked at me funny when I’d said I’d never been on a picnic with my parents, Mom being sort of an indoor kind of gal. If it buzzed, crawled, or creeped, she wanted a wall between her and it. Hallelujah for summer camp and swimming lessons.

  “Then I think we’ll give you plenty of picnics you do remember.” Jack’s words packed more than the usual amount of promise.

  So peaceful here, away from sounds normally heard in our neighborhood: cars, kids playing, a bit of music from another house. Then again, the country had its own sounds, you just had to listen to hear them. Plink. “You see that fish jump? What’s in there?” Not that I was much of a fisherwoman. I fished in a lounge chair, novel in one hand and mai tai in the other. If and when I did fish, I’d bait my own hook, thank you very much.

  “Bass, crappie, bream, catfish. Got a trot line set over on the other side.” Jack talked and chewed too.

  We finished the sandwiches and the guys stood up. As one they peeled their shirts over their heads. Oh, jeez! What? “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to wait an hour before going in swimming?” I asked. Skin. So much skin. And pecs. And abs.