by Kat Addams
Klara noticed John’s gaze follow his partner until he was out of sight.
“Right, so back to these things. Which one do you want?”
“I’ll take both,” Klara said, stunning herself.
The realization that Farmer John was gay had her brain frazzled. Not that she was interested anymore, but all those proposal fantasies, poof! Gone! She couldn’t wait to get back and text Chris all about it.
“Really?” John asked, wide-eyed. A part of him was sad to see the kittens go, but a part of him was relieved.
“Sure, why not?”
“Twice the poop. Twice the food. Twice the hair balls.”
“I can handle it. Plus, it’s lonely at my house. I think these two will liven it up.” Klara smiled. If this didn’t work out, she would just chalk it up to another bad decision. She was used to those by now.
“Lonely, eh? No way! Not you. There’s no special someone to help you with these two wildcats?”
Klara blushed. How was she going to explain this one?
“Well, there is. You’ve actually met him before. It’s just … ”
“Wait a minute … I’ve met him? Is he part of the running group?”
“No.” Klara shook her head.
“Is he a regular here? A customer of mine?” John said, probing for details.
“No … ” Klara shook her head again.
“Well? What’s his name?”
“His name’s Chris. He was the one who, um … helped me when we crashed into each other. That was actually how we met.”
“Holy shit! Seriously? That guy? He was very … very … good-looking. And chivalrous, obviously. Saving you from me and all.” John laughed. “So, you two are a thing now, huh? Wow. That’s a hell of a way to meet someone. Like a sappy, romantic comedy movie. I love it! Where is he now?”
“That’s the thing. He doesn’t live here. He’s a long-distance … friend.”
“Friend? Long-distance? What?”
“He’s a writer and an instructor. So, he travels a lot. And, yes, a good friend. I don’t know what else to call him at this point, I guess.”
“No? Well, us men are hard to figure out. Maybe, next time you see him, he can give you more clarity.”
“Maybe … ”
“I’ve got an idea. How about you come to the farm? Wait, when is the next time you see him?”
“Next Friday, he’s coming into town.”
“Okay, hmm … how about next Wednesday? You available, say, around six? You can come to the farm and have dinner with me and Grayson. We can teach you how to make an awesome dinner for your long-distance lover that will knock his socks off and have him tied around your pinkie. Consider it a huge thank-you for taking these rascals off my hands. Plus, I have a lot of cat stuff you can have. Grayson will be so happy to get rid of it all!”
Klara had no idea how she had come to the farmers market to pick up a few bits of fruit, and she was now leaving with two cats and a date with two very attractive gay men. Her Saturday was turning out to be really good or really bad. She wished Chris were here to see all this.
“I can do Wednesday. I’ll move some things around. Should be fine. Are you sure? I might be a fire hazard in the kitchen.” Klara shrugged. She was nervous already.
“Definitely sure. Favor for a friend. I owe you for almost knocking you down that day anyway. Though I’m glad it turned out the way it did! Now, you and Chris have become a thing. Klara and Chris … Klaris? Chrisara?” John mused, confused. “I’m going to need to work on this couple’s name. You two aren’t making it easy.”
“Oh, yeah? Hmm … ” Klara played dumb, although she already had been working on it since the beach trip. She’d tried every combo, and none had the cute, witty ring to it that would be front and center on their wedding blog.
“Nah, not like my and Grayson’s. Everyone knows us as The Johnson. Which doesn’t bother me one bit.” John smirked.
Klara laughed loudly. She was really beginning to like Farmer John even more. Maybe, one day, she would tell him about her nickname for him. Maybe …
The kitten in her arms was fast asleep against her chest, purring. The other was pacing back and forth in the cage, calling out for someone to entertain her. Klara knew that cat was going to be trouble.
“All right, I’d better get going. Looks like I’m going to the pet store today and settling two fur balls in their new home. Not quite what I was expecting to pick up at the market, but I’ll take it. They are just so damn cute, aren’t they?”
“Yep. And I’m so glad they are going to a good home. I know you’ll be a great fur mama. If you need anything, anything, here’s my number. Text me yours anyway, and I’ll send you my address for Wednesday. Here, I’ve got a travel cage in my truck. Let’s put them inside. Easier to carry.”
“Okay. Thanks. Wednesday it is. Date with The Johnson,” Klara said, raising her eyebrows.
“Ha! Hope we aren’t too hard for you to handle!” John laughed.
Klara’s mouth watered. But just a tiny bit.
eleven
Klara wasn’t even in her condo for an hour before she realized it wasn’t kitten-proof. So far, the kittens had knocked over two vases and one picture frame, clawed her office chair, and thrown up on a rug. What in the hell had she been thinking? She hadn’t even had time to sit down and text Chris about her day. These two heathens were constantly getting into something.
“Listen up!” she barked as the kittens ignored her. “You two are going to have to behave. My house, my rules. Shape up or ship out!”
One of the kittens pawed at the flowers Klara had growing on the windowsill. Klara quickly picked her up and put her down by her feet, giving her one of the toys the worker at the pet store had recommended. She sat down, exhausted, and checked her watch. Doing the mental math to calculate what time it was in California, where Chris had been all week.
He should be awake and moving by now. She knew he had an early flight to catch. She checked her texts again. No good morning text? Not much of anything lately actually. His communication had been spotty at best the past week, and although Klara knew he was busy, she couldn’t help but wonder. She’d never been to Cali, but when she thought about it, all she could think about were beautiful, tall, and tan blondes, fashionistas, supermodels, women who lived on kale and ice chips and could send anyone … Chris … to his knees.
She imagined him going out for drinks, his fangirls getting giggly, him whispering in their ears the filthy things he’d whispered in hers. Them being his new “muses,” as he’d said. How they would so easily spread their legs for him.
I mean, who wouldn’t? He is walking sex on a stick. With a big stick. No gherkins. Klara was stuck in between annoyed with the lack of communication and feeling randy, thinking about Chris’s pickle, when her phone rang. Finally.
“Hey, gorgeous! Good morning! How is it going? How’s your day?”
“It’s been … fine.” Klara decided to hold off on telling him all of the excitement. At least until she knew why he had been flaky this week. “How was yours?”
“Just fine? Nothing exciting happened? Mine was all sorts of exciting. Rushing to get to the airport, waiting at the airport, eating shitty airport food, waiting even more at the airport. And here I am.”
“Well, that sounds terrible! I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all that. I would be a frantic mess.”
“You would. But I’d calm you.”
“You already do.”
“The feels. The feels,” Chris moaned, clutching his heart.
“All the limerence feels … ” Klara shot back, feeling feisty.
“Ooh. I walked right into that one. Practically handed it to ya. I’m going to be there in exactly six days, and I plan on putting all these feels to good use. I want to feels in your mouth. Feels in that tight little pussy of yours. Feels those lips between my teeth. Feels myself slide right into you.”
Fuck, he’s good. Klara could feels herself starti
ng to get wetter.
“I want to feels you, too. I didn’t get much feels from you this week. I know you’re busy and all but—”
“But communication is key, and I’ve been slacking. Totally. I get it. And I want you to know I’m sorry. I did spend every moment I could reaching out though. I just didn’t have many moments. Marcy has been rearranging my schedule, and my agent has been toying with different opportunities for me and not leaving me alone about it. I’ve just got a lot going on. I’m so, so sorry. I promise this week will be better. I think. Gonna do my best. And hey! I’ll see you soon, and we will make up for any missed time. Deal?”
“Deal,” Klara muttered.
She was still annoyed. His excuse didn’t make her feel any different. Sure, he was busy with important stuff, but she also wanted to be important stuff. Not knowing where she stood was getting old. Really old.
“Hey, I’ve got to run. They’re boarding. I’ll call you when I land. At least, this week, I’ll be in your time zone. I think it will make things easier.”
“Okay. Bye, Chris. Safe travels.”
“Bye, sexy.”
Klara hung up the phone, her brain recounting the conversation. Does he miss me? Is he growing distant from me with all the distance, or did it make him want me more? How does he feel now? And why can’t he tell me? She wouldn’t make the mistake of telling him her feelings again. Putting herself out there had made her feel way too vulnerable.
The feels …
She sighed. She was going to package them up, stuff them in a box at the top of her closet, and forget about them. She had two babies that were going to keep her mind off of things and two new friends. She decided to keep her new friends to herself. If Chris showed more interest in her life, maybe she would then tell him about them, but after the funny feeling she’d had last week, she was building her walls up again.
Chris could hear it in her voice. Klara was upset with him. He knew he had been distant this week, but he wasn’t sure why. He was busy; that was true. But he was also … scared? Nervous? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he missed her, and this long-distance dating was so damn hard. He woke up, thinking of Klara. He went to bed, thinking of Klara. He spent every waking hour thinking of Klara. Klara, Klara, Klara. She was constantly on his mind. He could barely concentrate at work. His mind kept wandering to Klara and what she was doing. Those nights at the hotel, especially their date night. He had been like a teenager again with all the erections he kept getting every hour on the hour when he thought of her.
He knew this couldn’t be healthy. How happy he had been there, with her. Just being in the same city as her even. But now? Now, he was here, and she was there. Now, they were apart, and he was lonely. He hadn’t been very lonely before he met Klara. Sure, he’d had his moments here and there when he wished for a lover to share his time with. But, for the most part, Chris was happy with his career being that partner. Now, his career was cold and gloomy. His writing was suffering without her. How he wished he were back at that coffee shop, writing beside her now. Breathing in the scent of her, like honeysuckle and wildflower. His legs rubbing up against hers under the table. His eyes on her lips as they broke into a smile.
He needed Klara, and he was scared. What if he wasn’t able to do this long-distance thing? He was already spazzing out. She’d told him she loved him before he left, too, which definitely didn’t help matters. He couldn’t hurt her, not Klara. Not anyone. He wasn’t that type. He hadn’t asked to be in a relationship; she’d just kind of fallen in his lap. Or right in front of him anyway.
Chris closed his eyes and rested his head back, hoping to catch some sleep on his flight. Trying to read or write would only prove useless. Both of those things suffered now that she wasn’t around. Klara had shaken his life up, both good and bad. He wasn’t used to this. He needed his career. He needed Klara, too.
How can I have my cake and eat it, too?
“Excuse me?” a woman’s voice called from next to Chris as she gently tapped his shoulder while he stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
Chris turned to the woman, startled.
“Is this you?” She pointed to his picture on the back of one of his novels.
“I’m afraid it is.” Chris laughed. “When I was about ten years younger anyway.”
“Ten? Ha! You don’t look a day over twenty-five. Not with that hair and that smile,” the woman crooned next to him.
Chris couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was. Her skin sun-kissed, her hair golden, her eyes as blue as any ocean he’d ever seen. Chris suddenly grew uncomfortable.
“Well, thanks, but I, uh … it was a long time ago. But, yes, I wrote the book. Is this your first book of mine you’ve read?”
“Nope, definitely not. I’m a fan. I’ve never paid attention to the back covers though until this one. I always had in my mind that you would be … oh, I don’t know … someone a little … less attractive?” the woman said, biting her lip.
“Really? What made you think that?”
“Well, all the fantasies you write about. I always thought it was a man who wasn’t able to play out those fantasies, so he wrote about them. But, now, I see I was mistaken. I’m quite sure you could have anyone you wanted,” the woman purred again. “I’m Leslie. Nice to meet you, Christopher,” she said as she stuck her hand out to shake his.
“Nice to meet you, too, Leslie,” Chris said.
He could feel himself growing hot. This woman is coming on strong.
He checked his watch. Three more hours in the air.
Crap! This is going to be a long flight, he thought.
He couldn’t believe a drop-dead gorgeous woman was hitting on him, and he wasn’t even interested. In fact, he was extremely uncomfortable. He’d never been in this situation before. Attached and unavailable even though he knew he was still available … kind of. It was not like he was married or anything. He caught the woman trying to get a glimpse of his left hand. Ring check. He had seen it before several times. Hell, he had done it several times.
“So, Christopher, working on anything exciting now?”
“I’ve got a few ideas I’m kicking around. I’ve mostly been teaching lately. Writing has kind of taken a backseat while I get some things done. But I always have a story going. I think that’s true for any writer. Whether it’s in our heads or on paper,” Chris rambled. He was trying to keep the conversation friendly and even a little boring.
“I’m very much looking forward to reading what you come up with next. These last books of yours were … extra steamy. You sure do know how to speak to women. I’m assuming it’s mostly women reading your books,” Leslie said, fanning herself with his book.
“Thank you! My readers are mostly women. But I only know how to write about talking to women because I get a lot of help from my … girlfriend. She is always good at letting me know what women want,” Chris replied, hoping she’d get the hint.
“What a lucky woman to have someone like you whispering in her ear. So. Lucky.” Leslie grinned.
Chris smiled back at her, watching her lick her lips.
Nope. Girlfriend didn’t stop her, Chris mused. He racked his brain to try to come up with something to steer the conversation away from his erotica. Damn me and my sexy skills! Why can’t I do something not sexy? Like sell vacuums or be a butcher. Those aren’t sexy at all. Sucking force and beating meat. Hell! His brain was wired for erotica.
“Oh no! I’m the lucky one. She’s my muse.”
“Muse, eh? So, you do write from experience.” Leslie smirked.
Chris blushed and could feel his body go warm again. He wished this lady would give up. It wasn’t happening. If it wasn’t for Klara, he would hop on her, and his next novel would have some Mile-High Club scenes, but … Klara. This lady was beautiful but not as beautiful as Klara. This lady was interesting but not nearly as interesting as Klara. This lady smelled great but not divine like his Klara. No, she wasn’t Klara, and he wasn’t interes
ted.
“All experiences with her. Yep.”
“What a life she’s living. What … a … life.” Leslie shook her head in amazement as she pulled out her headphones and popped them in.
He guessed she’d finally gotten the picture. Though he did catch her constantly readjusting herself as she read his book. He could practically feel the heat coming off of her.
Chris laid his head back again and closed his eyes, smiling as he pictured the way Klara had looked that day in the garden shed.
Yep. What a life …
T-minus two days until he gets here, Klara thought.
She had set a countdown alarm on her phone, which she checked every forty-five minutes. She couldn’t believe it was almost time to see him again. Her thoughts often drifted to that first moment they would greet each other. Her mind was so deep into him that, when she finally came home at night, she wouldn’t be aware of what she’d even done that day.
What happened at work? No clue.
What did Ms. May do today? No idea.
What did I eat? Couldn’t tell ya.
What did Chris say? She knew that word for word. She often went back to read all of his texts several times a day, tending to overthink things.
I wonder if he meant this when he said that, or I wonder if he really wants this instead of that. Does this mean what I think it means? Is he just telling me what I want to hear? Her mind raced.
Thankfully, with her first book finished, she decided to take this week off from writing. She would have been absolutely useless anyway. The kittens were driving her up a wall, Chris was communicating more now but still too damn spotty for her taste, and she had to prepare her place for his stay—not to mention, prepare herself. Wax, shave, run, hair—all of that. She was exhausted already. She was really looking forward to tonight, the night that she got to be with The Johnson.
Klara giggled anytime she thought about their couple name. She often said it out loud and made herself laugh. She still hadn’t told Chris about them. She instead told him she was meeting with friends from her running group, which wasn’t exactly a lie. She planned on telling him everything when he came back into town. Same with the cats. He had no idea she was a mom now. She hoped he wasn’t allergic. He would fall in love with them, just like she told herself she would, too, one day—when they stopped clawing her furniture. She made a mental note to ask The Johnson about that tonight. She was new to cat ownership and had no idea what to do. They were cute when they were sleeping at least. Until they woke up and swatted her nose like a fly so that she got up to serve them breakfast.
