Bourbon & Bonfires

by Andrea Johnston

  Landon: I’ll pretend I didn’t just see that. See you Friday. Taylor said he’s picking up Mason the rest of the week.

  I don’t respond but instead toss my phone on the table and lean my head back staring at the ceiling. Dinner. Friends. No big deal. I’m a grown ass woman; I can be friends with a hot guy. Maybe if I tell myself enough over the next few days, I’ll believe it.

  I hear voices down the hall and quickly rush from the break room to help finish with the patient. As I approach Dr. Burning and the patient, I see her smiling and I’m drawn to her eyes. Her green eyes. Montgomery. Ah hell, it can’t be.

  “Well, there you are. I was just telling Doc how you declined my dinner offer for this weekend.”

  “Uh, yes I did. I try to spend weekends with my son.” Not a complete lie.

  “Son? Oh, that’s wonderful, how old is he?”

  “Fourteen. His name is Mason.”

  “Bring Mason with you. The more the merrier.”

  “Mrs. Montgomery, you wouldn’t happen to have a son named Landon, would you?”

  “Do you know my Landon?” Mrs. Montgomery’s eyes glisten with happiness at just the mention of Landon. I know that look; it’s a mother’s look.

  “I do. My son actually works with him. He’s his assistant or apprentice; I forget what they’re calling it.”

  “Oh, that’s fabulous,” she shrills before pulling me into another hug, and when I look to Dr. Burning for help he’s laughing and waving us off. “You must come to dinner now. You know,” she whispers, “my Landon is single.” Her eyebrows waggle and my eyes go wide while Dr. Burning chokes. He’s really no help.

  Instead of responding to that comment, I simply say, “Thank you again for the invitation, maybe another time. Dr. Burning, do we need to reschedule Mrs. Montgomery?”

  “Nope, she’s good to go. And, I think it’s time for us to go. It’s getting a little late. Willa, we’ll see you at church on Sunday, okay?”

  Mrs. Montgomery takes the hint and says her goodbye as she pulls me in for another hug, but as she pulls away, she pauses and places her hands on my cheeks. I look at eyes similar to Landon’s as she smiles and says nothing. She simply pats my cheek and turns to walk out the door. That was weird.

  “You better watch out for that one,” Dr. Burning warns. I turn to him. “I’ve seen that look before and it means only one thing—you’re on her radar for Landon.”

  I don’t respond and stand staring at Dr. Burning as he walks to the front door, locks it, and turns the light off before walking past me and patting me on the shoulder as he laughs.

  Great. A mother who likes to set up her bachelor son. The same one I have a dinner date with on Friday. This has the makings of a really bad ending.

  I’m not known to be much of a risk taker in life. Throwing out not one, but three dinner invitations to Addison was quite the risk. I wasn’t quite sure how friend-zoned I’d been but knew by the lingering looks she was casting my way, I had a chance. And, like anytime I’m with her, I feel this overwhelming desire to touch her, to do things for her, to make her feel special. Sure, taking a frozen yogurt to her isn’t the grandest gesture of romance, but it sure beats not taking a frozen yogurt.

  Texting her was the second risk of the week. I could have called her a few hours before I planned to pick her up, not leaving her time to back out because I knew she’d try. But, that’s a total dick move, and I couldn’t do that to her. I’m not sure why, but I feel free to tease and push the limits between asshole and flirtatious with Addison and know she’ll dish it back just the same.

  What I hadn’t expected were the sporadic text messages from her all week, asking me for hints about dinner and what she should wear. My response each time was simple: dress warm.

  Sure, I could go the traditional first date route with a nice dinner, getting to know you small talk, and a quick peck on the cheek at the door. None of that feels right, and it isn’t me. Instead, I’ve planned to pick up some takeout, drive her out to Jameson’s property, and eat dinner under the stars with a fire.

  I want to spend time with Addison and get to know her. Most of all, I want her to be comfortable, and I get the impression being out with me in town isn’t exactly comfortable for her. It isn’t that she’s said anything, it’s more of how she hasn’t said anything. Just a feeling I have.

  Then, my mother threw the biggest monkey wrench in my plans and may have screwed up my ability to push for dates two and three. We have family dinner most every Sunday. Each of my siblings, their significant others and kids, plus me sit at the same table we grew up eating our meals laughing and sharing stories from our week.

  But this week my mother has thrown us all for a loop with Friday night family dinner. Sure, she’s trying to play it off like she just happened to make too much food tonight and suddenly she and my dad have plans on Sunday. Which I know is bullshit because my mom has never had a conflict for Sunday dinner. Ever.

  When I called my sister and my brother this afternoon, neither knew what was happening, except they both had to cancel their own Friday night plans. Wyatt was less than pleased since his kids will be at their mom’s and he planned on spending time with Raquel alone. What was most troubling wasn’t that my mother had concocted some sort of family dinner plan to drag me to her house, it was that she knew about Addison. She didn’t know I was going out with Addison, but she did suggest I bring that nice woman whose son works for me to dinner too.

  I paused a second too long and she hung up. The conversation was over, and I had no out. Well sure, I could have called her back and told her no. I could have told her I had plans. I could have told her I didn’t know Addison. There is a laundry list of things I could have told my mother. Except Willa Montgomery does not take no for an answer, and she would have likely found out where I was ordering dinner and staked out the place herself to drag me home for dinner.

  I’m taking a chance by not telling Addison where we’re going for dinner, but I’m hoping I’ll make up for it with the bonfire, drinks, and dessert afterward. If that doesn’t work, I’ll make sure my mom knows she may have very well taken the title of Queen of the Cock Block.

  I pull up to Addison’s house and park behind her car in the driveway. As I step out of my truck, I see a blonde walking down the street, pushing a stroller, and I pause to say hello to Dakota.

  “Hey Landon,” she sing songs with a larger than life smile.

  “Dakota. Hey girls,” I reply, bending down level with the girls and tickling little Cali before high-fiving Ari’s offered hand.

  “We’re out for a walk. What a surprise seeing you here.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.” I would give Dakota the benefit of the doubt, but she’s peering around me to look at Addison’s house. “I’ll let you get back to your walk.” I turn and stroll slowly up the walkway, giving Dakota time to retort, because I know she will.

  “I’m glad you’re taking her out. I have a good feeling about this.”

  Just as I stop to turn to respond, the front door opens and Addison steps out onto the porch. Dressed in a pair of tight dark jeans tucked into a pair of cowboy boots, a long sweater hangs off her shoulder, showing a peek of her skin, and I’m stunned quiet. Behind me, I hear a giggle and a quiet, “Yep.”

  “Hey Dakota.”

  “Oh my God. It just occurred to me,” Dakota screams, startling not only me but her own children. “You guys have to date. Or get married. It’s kismet!”

  I look to Addison, who is standing on her porch with a look I know mirrors the same confused one on my face. “What are you talking about? We’re having dinner. Relax,” I say, hoping it calms her down.

  “Sorry. But, you’re Landon Montgomery and you’re Addison Sinclair.” Her arms are flailing expressively. “If you got married, Addy, you would be Addison Montgomery!”

  “Did you bump your head? What are you talking about?” I ask, completely perplexed. “Do you know what she’s rambling on about?” I question out loud a
s I turn to Addison who is doubled over in a fit of laughter, and I’m even more confused.

  “Grey’s Anatomy, Landon. Come on. You have to know.”

  “Yeah, I really don’t. You guys are weird. Say goodbye, Dakota, I need to get my date out of this fit you’ve put her in.”

  “Fine, see ya in the morning, Addy. Or, maybe noooootttt,” she sings as she walks away. Good grief. I need new friends.

  I continue my walk up to the porch and stop in front of Addison, who has ceased the hysterics but is still smiling wide. My attraction to this woman is never in question but now, with the look of pure joy and happiness in her face, it’s off the charts, and I’m not sure there has ever been a more beautiful woman. Her hair is down and wavy, barely touching her shoulders, drawing my attention straight to the sliver of skin peeking from her off the shoulder sweater.

  “Hey,” she whispers, as she wipes tears from her cheeks.

  “Hey yourself. You look beautiful.”

  “Stop, I’m wearing jeans; it’s not like I’m in a ball gown. Let me grab my stuff and we can go. I’m sure you have plans after we eat,” she mumbles as she walks in the house. This is strange. In the last few minutes she’s either been laughing loudly or mumbling. The laughter is great; it’s the mumbling that has me confused.

  I follow her into the house and watch as she walks to the couch and grabs her purse and a coat. I step aside and take the coat from her before motioning for her to walk ahead of me, placing my hand to the small of her back as we walk outside. As I step out, I take my hand from her back and pull the door closed behind me. Addison turns with her keys in hand, presumably to lock the door, when she runs into my chest.

  “Oomph.”

  “Sorry.” My hands immediately go to her arms to steady her. A quick gasp from her makes me smile, and I step out of the way, motioning for her to lock the door. “Ready?” I ask, and she simply nods and walks in front of me to the truck. I won’t deny I take the opportunity to check out how perfect her tight jeans accentuate her glorious ass. When we reach the passenger door, I open it, and she climbs into the cab. I hand her the coat before I close the door and jog over to the driver’s side.

  Instead of saying anything, I turn the ignition, let the sounds of Chris Stapleton fill the cab of the truck, and pull out of the driveway. It’s only a few seconds after I’m driving down the street before Addison speaks.

  “So, uh you look nice. Handsome. Oh, God,” she wails, covering her face with her hands. “Sorry, this is awkward.”

  “Thanks, I already told you I think you look beautiful, but it’s worth saying again.”

  “Stop being sweet.”

  “I’m not; I’m being honest. And, why is it awkward?”

  “I don’t know. We barely know each other. Plus, I haven’t been out with anyone in a long time.”

  “I’m pretty sure I saw you eat last weekend. So, you have, in fact, done this recently.” My tone is teasing and hopefully enough to break the ice, because Addison is wound tight and I don’t want to send her over the edge when she realizes where we’re going for dinner. She smacks my arm, and I flinch while laughing so she knows I’m teasing.

  “Don’t make fun of me.”

  “Okay, I won’t. Hey, where’s Mason tonight?”

  “He’s at the movies with a new friend from school. It’s really one of the first times he’s done anything other than work with you since we moved here. I’m glad he’s making friends, and from what I could tell from my online stalking and phone call with the boy’s mom, he shouldn’t get in any trouble.”

  “You called the kid’s mom?”

  “Of course I did,” she states matter of factly.

  “Poor Mason. Ouch! Quit hitting me. I’m a delicate flower, Addison.”

  “It’ll never be Addy, will it?”

  “Maybe if you stop hitting me, I’ll consider it.”

  And that does it, the tension eases, and we laugh together. Addison reaches over and taps the volume as Thomas Rhett sings, and I flash back to our night at Country Road and how I’d love to pull over to the side of the road and kiss her again.

  “You never said where we are going to dinner. Is this a shortcut to the restaurant?” she asks, looking around the neighborhood I’ve turned into.

  “Not exactly. I have to be honest, I kind of don’t want to tell you where we’re going, but I think you may kill me if I don’t. First, let me tell you my original plan was to grab some takeout and drive out to my buddy’s property, so we could have dinner under the stars and a bonfire. But, there was, uh . . . well, uh . . . a change of plans.”

  “Okaaayyy.”

  I don’t bother replying as I pull in front of parents’ house and park. Both my brother’s car and my sister’s minivan are parked in the driveway. Great, the whole gang’s here. I look over to Addison, who is looking at me confused but still hasn’t said another word. When I open my door to get out, Addison does the same. I place my hand on her arm and say, “Just wait.”

  When I open the passenger door, she turns to exit but I step up between her legs, one hand resting on the dash and the other on the seat so I’m pinning her in place. I take a deep breath before meeting her eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes that are open and kind and make me believe things I’ve never thought were possible.

  “Like I said, I had a plan to take you out to Jameson’s property for a fire and dinner. I figured we could just relax and talk without a bunch of people around. I enjoy being around you. You make me laugh and your heart is so kind, I want to know about you. Why has it been a while since you’ve done this? Why are you single? Do you know how amazing your kid is? And don’t even get me started on how fucking hot you are.”

  She stares at me, her eyes capturing mine, a small smile beginning. Then, I feel her hand lay atop mine. It’s a light graze, but it’s there, and I don’t dare move. I can tell she has something to say.

  “You don’t want me, Landon. I’m a middle-aged single mom with baggage. You’re young and have so much ahead of you. Friendship is all this can ever be.”

  I wait for her to remove her hand from mine, but she doesn’t. I take that as a good sign.

  “Addison, if you only saw yourself as I see you. We’ll table this topic for later, but right now, inside that house is my life.” I throw a thumb over my shoulder toward the house before continuing. “My family is in that house. If this is too much, I will get back in this truck, and we’ll go do what I planned. I’ll deal with the fallout later. But, if you’ll indulge me for ninety minutes, we’ll still go for that fire, only instead of dinner, it’ll just be dessert.”

  I’m not sure what I expected in response to my speech. Hell, I didn’t have a plan for what I’d say when we got here, unsure I’d make it all the way here. I half figured I’d back out and either cancel dinner or turn my phone off and deal with my mom tomorrow. But, here we are, and Addison is laughing.

  “You’re laughing. Are you so angry you can’t even process it and are laughing?” I question.

  “No. I’m not mad at all. I mean, I guess if I thought going out to dinner was awkward I spoke too soon, right? I’m laughing because your mom invited me to dinner, and I declined.”

  “She what?”

  “Yep. I can’t say much more, HIPPA laws and what not,” she says, waving a hand around. It should be noted it is not the hand resting on mine. “But, she did. I kind of blew her off, and Doc told me I should watch out because she’s shifty or something.”

  “I can’t believe this. We should leave.”

  “Nope, we’re going in there and eating dinner, and then you, mister,” she says, poking me in the chest, “you get to take me for dessert under the stars. Deal?”

  “Wow. You’re pretty perfect, you know that?”

  “Hardly. I’m just really hungry, and there are two little kids staring at us from the window. I’m pretty sure a few adults just ducked down behind them.”

  “Great. I’m guessing those are the twins. Demons, I tel
l ya.” Addison laughs, and it’s music to my ears. “Okay, Ms. Sinclair. Let’s do this, shall we?”

  Addison smiles with a nod, and I step back before extending my hand to help her out. When she hits the ground, I let her close the door before I take her hand and walk toward the house. Her hesitation of me holding her hand passes quickly, and I’m grateful when instead of letting go of my hand, she lets me squeeze her smaller hand with mine.

  The entire time we were driving here I thought about telling Landon to take me home. I have no business being out with him. This dinner screams date, and I cannot date Landon. I mean, I’d love to date Landon. He’s not only ridiculously hot in a Scott Eastwood panty-melting-smile kind of way, he’s also funny and kind. The fact that he asked about Mason tugged at my heart a little, and I couldn’t ask him to take me home. No, I didn’t want him to take me home.

  When I stepped out onto my front porch to see who he was talking to, I almost lost my footing. His jeans fit snuggly along his muscular thighs and perfect ass. The dark Henley he’s wearing is tight across his broad shoulders and for a minute I wanted to run my hands underneath it to feel every muscle. Then he turned to look at me, and I was lost. Lost in the look on his face as he took me in.

  I’ll never admit that I spent an hour rummaging through my closet to find something to wear. I needed to look casual but didn’t want to look like I didn’t care. Being a woman is more complicated than men will ever realize. Everything looked too dressy or too casual. My ass looked flat in three pairs of jeans and by the time I heard him pull up I gave up, putting on my favorite jeans and a comfortable sweater, hoping for the best. By the way he looked at me I guess going with the favorites was a good move.

  And now, we’re walking up to his parents’ home. Holding hands. I should take my hand back. I should put it in my pocket or something. I don’t. Nope. Is this a mixed signal? Probably. The minute his free hand pulls open the screen door, he squeezes our joined hands, winks, and walks through the door.