Start Me Up

by Nicole Michaels

  She squeezed him through his jeans, a smile breaking out on her mouth.

  “So tell me what you want now,” he said. “You wanna stop, we stop. You need to be sure.”

  She hesitated for a second, her hand still teasing him, and then slowly reached for the zipper of his fly. “I want you.”

  “Tell me what you want me to do.” He let her continue to undo his pants slowly, her painted nails working at the zipper.

  She stared at him, breathing deep. Then she whispered. “I want you to put your mouth on me.”

  Mike grinned and dropped back into the chair, his pants gaping open. “Thank God.”

  This time he didn’t wait. He grabbed her boots and settled them on his thighs before pressing his mouth to her black panties. Hearing the hitch in her breathing, the way her knees fell away was so fucking hot. He slid a finger along the side of the elastic, ready to finally get a taste of her, when her right boot started vibrating against his side.

  He raised his head for a moment to be sure he was hearing what he thought he was.

  “Oh no, my phone.” Anne set up and pulled her boot off, catching her phone in the same motion. She glanced at the screen. “Oh God, it’s Scott.”

  What the hell? Mike slid the chair back to give her some room. Seeing her panic for Scott was like a bucket of cold water over his dick.

  She clicked the phone on and then lifted it to her ear. “Is something wrong with Claire?”

  Mike let out a breath and ran a hand over his mouth. This had to be Claire’s father, a huge relief, unless something was wrong with Anne’s daughter. His panic rose again.

  “Have you taken her temperature?” Anne jumped off the table, pulled up her dress to cover her chest, and started pacing, which would have been slightly amusing since she now only had on one boot, but the tension and worry radiating from Anne killed his grin. Suddenly she stopped and faced the kitchen sink as she listened to whatever was going on with Claire. Mike moved to stand behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder, out of comfort, or hell he didn’t know what, and without thinking she reached up to cover it with her own. The act felt … intimate. More intimate than what he’d been about to do while she lay on the table.

  “I’ll just come get her. She’ll be more comfortable in her own bed and I have a cabinet full of medicine. It will be easier.” Anne dropped her hand and turned to pick up her discarded boot. “Okay, I’m on my way.”

  She ended the call and glanced around the kitchen before picking up her purse. “I’m so sorry, Mike. Claire’s fever is a hundred and three.” She met his eyes and gave him a half smile.

  “Of course you have to get her. Let’s go, I’ll drive you.” He zipped his pants, picked up his keys, and headed for the garage where they entered.

  “What? No, no. I don’t want to ruin the rest of your evening with a sick child.”

  He turned and gave her a hard stare. “Anne. I may be a horny as hell right now, but I know your daughter needs you. I’m helping.”

  “I appreciate your offer, but I don’t need you to drive me.”

  “I disagree. You chased a good buzz with a shot not even forty-five minutes ago at Smokey’s. I can’t let you pick up Claire like that.”

  She groaned and laid a hand on her forehead. “Oh no, you’re right. And the Preston cops patrol heavy on the weekend. But Scott lives twenty minutes away in Dansford.”

  Mike shrugged and reached for the door that led out to the garage. “After you.”

  They loaded back up into the Camaro and he started the engine. Before he backed out, he turned and lifted his hand to Anne’s face, brushing her lower lip with his thumb. “One thing before we go. It won’t be tonight, but I have every intention of making sure we pick back up where we left off.”

  Ten

  Several amazing things had just gone down in Anne’s kitchen, or nearly gone down, literally. But the one that was making her pulse rapid was the way Mike had caressed her shoulder while she was on the phone. Without thought she’d reached right up and grasped his hand, as if to hold it there, drawing support from him. It had been instinctual. But why?

  They’d been about to have sex, nothing more. He didn’t seem bothered that she’d put a stop to their shenanigans; in fact, he’d seemed genuinely concerned about Claire and getting her home safely. That wasn’t so shocking, Mike was a good guy. She knew that for sure, and she assumed that since he was close to his niece he wasn’t unfamiliar with childhood ailments and unexpected sickness.

  The headlights lit up the long stretch of highway in front of them as the Camaro tilted into a smooth curve. This car really was amazing. Anne glanced across the center console at the large man driving. He was so incredibly beautiful, with his strong profile and straight nose. He turned and caught her staring.

  “What?”

  She grinned and looked back at the road. “Nothing.”

  There was silence for a moment and she felt a little awkward so she spoke again. “Actually, thank you, for driving me to get her. I know I should just let her father deal with this, I mean, it’s his job, too, but I’m her mother.”

  Mike shocked her by draping his arm over the console and grabbing the hand resting in her lap. “Hey, no need to explain. Kids need their mom. All my young memories of being sick included my mom. She’d wipe my forehead with a cool cloth, bribe me into taking medicine with new toys, sometimes even sing to me. I get it. And it’s no problem. You’re a good mom, Anne, and I like that about you.”

  Anne’s heart fluttered at those words. She couldn’t recall Scott ever saying she was a good mom. She bit her lip and held back a tear. She brushed her thumb over his knuckle in silent gratitude, and he squeezed her fingers in reply before pulling his hand back to the gearshift to change gears. Another quick yet intimate gesture. She didn’t know what to make of this night. One moment it was about sex, the next she was on emotional overload.

  “Speaking of moms, sounds like you have a good one,” she said, trying to lighten things up a little. She didn’t miss the way Mike stiffened at her comment.

  “Had. She passed away when I was seven.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. That’s horrible.”

  He shrugged. “Thanks, but it was a long time ago.” He glanced over and gave a tight smile.

  Seven years old. That was only a year older than Claire. Anne couldn’t even imagine her sweet, sensitive daughter going through losing a parent. The thought of a young Mike enduring that loss nearly broke Anne’s heart. It didn’t seem to upset him, but of course he was right, it was long ago. When he didn’t seem inclined to say any more, she spoke.

  “I was adopted. My early years were … bad,” she said. He’d shared something, so it felt right to share something with him.

  He jerked a little in his seat and sent a quick glance her way. “Seriously, I wouldn’t have guessed. I mean … actually I don’t know what I meant by that. Sorry.”

  She chuckled a little. “No biggie. I know I seem somewhat put together, but, if it weren’t for my adoptive parents, I don’t know where I’d be right now. They gave me a great life. My mom has a gift for making every occasion memorable. Birthdays, recitals, graduations. She never missed an opportunity to make me feel loved and special. I guess my love of planning parties comes naturally.”

  The car was silent for a moment, no surprise. That was kind of an awkward conversation transition. But she had made peace with her past. She was lucky that she’d been given a second chance at a happy childhood, and now she knew what it meant to be a good mother to her own daughter. She liked to think that every time she created a special memory for someone else she was carrying on her own mother’s traditions.

  “What you do is amazing, Anne. That party you gave Claire was insane. You truly have a talent for making things special. I’m sure your parents would say they are the lucky ones to have gotten you.”

  “Thanks,” she said with a smile. “Sadly my dad, Wade, died of prostate cancer when I was nineteen. So looks lik
e I have a mom, and you have a dad.”

  She laughed quietly and stared out the window. Mike cleared his throat.

  “Actually my father died when I was eighteen.”

  Anne didn’t speak for a moment, because she honestly had no idea what to say. Mike had no parents at all. She knew he had his sister Erin, Bailey’s mother, but still. A sibling is not a parent, although Anne wouldn’t really know since she didn’t have any siblings—her mother was unable to have children, and they’d never adopted again.

  “I’m so sorry, Mike. That’s … I’m just sorry.”

  “Yeah, it sucked,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Life was bad for me, too, for a while, but you get through it, ya know?”

  “Yes, I do know,” she said quietly. She shifted in her seat to face him. “We’re quite a pair here, aren’t we? One minute we’re making out—and I’m freaking because I don’t want you to see me naked—and now we’re being completely morbid in your car while you drive my drunk ass to get my sick daughter. You have to be cursing fate for making our paths cross tonight.”

  He turned to her with a grin. “Not even a little bit.”

  There had been no hesitation. He didn’t regret their ridiculous make-out scene or the fact that she wasn’t capable of driving herself somewhere. Not that she was really that intoxicated now, but she wasn’t confident she could pass a Breathalyzer at the moment. Mike Everett was truly a gentleman.

  It felt good to let some baggage out, and in front of a hot man no less. She’d never done that before; in fact it had been months into her relationship with Scott before she’d shared the details of her past with him. Maybe that was the answer. She needed to be up front about all the ways she was less than perfect. That way there would be no room for disappointment, no chance for confusion or unrealistic expectations.

  Right now he was probably figuring out that he was in over his head with her. She had some body issues and he was probably used to young hotties stripping down and showing off for him. She had a sketchy past and the biggest of all … a child. No guy would want to bother with all that mess. But what a thrill tonight had been, having him touch her, kiss her, and make her feel desirable. She didn’t regret it one bit, whether he decided to or not.

  “Thank you, Mike, for driving me. It’s very sweet. I owe you.”

  “That you do, Perfect. We’ll call it even once I’ve seen you naked.”

  * * *

  Anne’s mother, Marie, was the kind of woman that you wanted around when you were sick, sad, happy, or especially hungry, as her casserole repertoire was legendary. But now that Marie was seventy-one, Anne found herself worrying over her mother more often than the other way around. However, Marie would never admit it. She was insanely proud and independent. But seventy-one is seventy-one, and some things in life are inevitable, especially when battling diabetes.

  Anne had grown up in a small town west of Kansas City about twenty-five minutes from Preston, but Marie no longer lived in the suburban ranch home that Anne had been raised in. Two years ago Anne had convinced her mother to move into a senior apartment complex only a short drive away from Preston.

  Marie had made a fuss saying that she was “Nowhere near ready for an old folks’ home.”

  “Mom, this is a senior living apartment,” Anne had pleaded with her. “Your own furniture, no hospital beds, and there’s even a walking trail. You come and go as you please, and you even have a carport.”

  A week after the move Marie had already made two new best friends, planned a trip to the Ozarks with said best friends, and started a Bunco group. Anne had been so relieved and happy for her mother. She deserved to enjoy her senior years and be surrounded by people. With a business, a blog, and a daughter of her own, Anne couldn’t always be on call for her mother. The move had been ideal.

  They had immediately resumed their traditional biweekly supper with Grandma Ree that had started after the divorce. It was always the Monday after Claire’s weekend with Scott, and as they entered into Marie’s two-bedroom apartment this Monday they were greeted with smells of lasagna and garlic bread.

  “Grandma Reeeeee!” Claire ran through the living room, straight into the small dining room, and into her grandmother’s waiting arms. She’d always called her the silly name, mashing Grandma and Marie. It had started as soon as Claire was speaking, and it stuck. Marie wouldn’t have it any other way. She loved the name.

  Anne smiled as her daughter was swept into a strong embrace by her grandmother. Claire may never know her grandfather, but Grandma Ree made up for it the best she could.

  “Callie sent me with a sugar-free carrot cake.” Anne set the pink cake box on the table, which was set for three. “Can I help with anything?”

  “You can grab the lasagna and carry it in to the table. It’s sitting on top of the stove.” Marie sat in her chair and pulled Claire onto her lap. “I’m gonna cover my Clairebug with sugar.”

  Anne walked into the kitchen. The sounds of smooches and giggles ringing through the air. The pan of steaming lasagna sat on the stove and the bread was in a basket. She took them to the dining table and returned to the kitchen for the salad.

  Turning to the fridge to retrieve some dressing, Anne spotted a couple of doctor’s appointment cards under a magnet. One was for her mother’s regular doctor and one was for a nephrologist. Huh.

  She stared for a moment, considering what that could mean. Her mother hadn’t mentioned anything about the appointment. Maybe it was for a routine procedure. She was … elderly. Not that Anne would ever say it to her face. She grabbed the dressing and some cheese before returning to the table.

  Both Claire and Grandma Ree were sticking their fingers in the cream cheese frosting on the carrot cake. “Hey, quit it, you two.”

  Claire broke into laughter, and the sound was music to Anne’s ears. After the fever broke Saturday morning, Anne had kept her for the day to be sure they were in the clear before Scott insisted that he pick her up before dinner that night. Fine, whatever, it was his weekend, blah, blah, blah. Claire was always happy to be with her father, so Anne could hardly make a scene. She would allow Claire to be the one thing Scott got right, as much as it killed Anne.

  The three girls said a quick prayer before Anne dished up the food. As always, it was amazing. Anne was a pretty good cook, but a family of one and a half wasn’t really conducive to large home-style meals, so she usually prepared simple things. Grandma Ree’s Mondays were always a treat.

  “So tell me about your weekend with your Daddy,” Marie said to Claire.

  Anne appreciated her mother’s prying since Claire tended to be a little more candid about what went on at Scott’s when conversing with her grandmother.

  “Ummmm, we ate ice cream and went shopping for new shoes for Daddy, and his friend Dana came over.”

  Anne nearly choked on a bite of lettuce. She glanced at her mother, who raised an eyebrow. Anne shrugged lightly.

  “Well, that sounds fun,” Marie said, barely missing a beat. “What kind of ice cream?”

  “Chocolate from Carey Darey.”

  “Yum, I love chocolate ice cream,” Marie went on. Anne knew her mother was a genius at this kind of thing, so she just remained silent and ate her dinner as Marie continued in her happy, interested voice.

  “Good thing Daddy got new shoes. Did you meet his friend Dana for ice cream?”

  Claire picked a cucumber out of her salad and dipped it in ranch as she spoke. “Well, Daddy picked me up from my house, then we got new shoes and then we picked her up. And then we ate ice cream, and then we went home.”

  “Oh I see.” Marie and Anne met eyes once again. This time Anne raised an eyebrow and took a drink of her water. She was feeling a little sweaty. Marie went on. “So Dana went to Daddy’s house with you?”

  “Uh-huh.” Claire was completely oblivious to the drilling she was getting as she ate her lasagna.

  It wasn’t like Scott couldn’t date. He was young, handsome, and available. But did
he really have to do it on the weekend he had his daughter? Was this relationship serious? As much as Anne had grown to despise the man, it still grated a little deep inside.

  “Well, that sounds like fun. So, does Dana have pink pajamas or purple?” Marie leaned toward Claire like she was asking a super-fun girlie secret.

  Claire giggled. “I don’t know, Grandma Ree. She stayed in Daddy’s room during bedtime.”

  “Oh well, of course,” Marie said as if it had been the silliest of questions.

  Anne bit back a groan.

  “So you liked Dana?” Marie asked.

  Claire bounced in her chair, clearly losing interest in the conversation. “She was nice. She wears a lot of lipstick. I like Mommy’s friend Uncle Mike better, he sings funny.”

  Anne froze with a bite of bread halfway to her mouth. The direction of this interrogation was about to go very wrong. She was afraid to look her mother’s way, but she chanced it. Sure enough, Marie was giving her a look. Anne put the bread in her mouth and smiled as she chewed, trying to appear innocent.

  “When did Uncle Mike sing to you? That sounds like fun.”

  “When I was sick. I had to leave Daddy’s in the middle of the night and he sang to me in my bedroom while Mommy got me some medicine. He likes to sing ‘Itsy Bitsy Spider.’ It’s a baby song, but he was funny.”

  Oh Lord, obviously Claire had gotten a second wind for conversation and was spilling all the messy details. Anne knew her mother wouldn’t quit until she’d pulled everything possible from Claire’s lips.

  Marie laughed along with Claire and then looked at Anne as she said the next bit. “He sounds nice. So in the middle of the night you say, that’s too bad. I hate to be sick, especially when I’d rather be sleeping.” Oh gracious.

  “It was okay. Mommy and Mike came to get me. Even when it was really dark, and Mike’s car is fancy and really fast.” Claire was on a roll. Anne wanted to put her hand over her daughter’s mouth. Instead she just sat quietly while her mother’s wide eyes assessed her. “And he’s really big, way bigger than Daddy. He has big muscles and he carried me to my room like I was a baby.”