One Love for Liv

by Marianne Arkins

  “When?”

  “Whenever. Just not today.”

  “Of course. It’s probably just as well, there were a few last-minute things that needed to be done anyway.”

  “There, you see? It’s all for the best.” She smiled. “I need to go.”

  Before she could turn back to the car, Geoff grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a tight embrace. She nearly lost her grip on Rett when she swung her arms around Geoff’s waist to keep from falling over. He pressed his lips against hers in what she assumed was meant to be a passionate kiss. It was more like boiled salmon.

  That clinched it. She knew she’d made the right decision, knew she had to tell Geoff goodbye. She shoved herself away. “Geoff, this needs to stop.”

  “I know, Lee Lee, and I don’t mean to push. But I love you and our wedding is only a couple weeks away.”

  “No, Geoff, I mean…” Liv closed her eyes. Could she really break off her engagement to this man? In the parking lot? Without consulting her father? Of course she could. “I mean us, our relationship. It can’t continue.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I can’t marry you.” There. She’d said it. It was over.

  “Of course you can, and you will in less than two weeks.”

  She ground her teeth in response to the smug look on his face. “I don’t think I love you. How can I marry a man I don’t love?”

  “Cold feet are natural at this stage of the game, darling.” He rubbed a hand up and down her shoulder. “This isn’t the time or place to be discussing our future.”

  That was probably true, but she wanted to be honest. “What about Daisy?”

  To her satisfaction, he blanched. It only took a second for him to compose himself, but the initial reaction said it all. “Daisy? Is that the ferret’s name?”

  “Geoff, we do need to talk, and not here. I’ll call you later to set up a time.” She figured she’d done her best to clear the air and refused to feel guilty about her intentions.

  She patted his face and reached for her bag and Rett, hurrying to her rental car before Geoff got his bearings back.

  She felt good. And she had some stops to make on the way to Mike’s. Music, food, lingerie. All the necessities.

  After she finished her shopping she headed for Mike’s. She took out her Enya CD and replaced it with something from a group called The Black-Eyed Peas. A kid at the record store she’d stopped at gave her one each of the current Top Twenty, plus a few extras that were his own personal favorites. Not thrilled with the music blasting through her speakers, she tossed that CD behind her and grabbed another. U2? What the heck was a U2? She shrugged and put the disc in.

  Ahh…much more her style. She hummed and bopped the hour’s drive away. She knew she was living right when she pulled into the spot right in front. There would be time to move the car later, after she unloaded.

  Spike came trotting over immediately, as if he’d been waiting for her to arrive. She grabbed her box of hard treats for large dogs and gave him a handful. Somehow he got them all into his mouth and was still able to woof a thank you before he moved away.

  Humming to herself, she took out her overnight bag and Rett’s carrier first, practically skipping into the complex. She nearly ran Frank over at the top of the steps.

  “Liv!” He seemed overjoyed to see her.

  “Frank!” She mimicked his tone of voice and giggled.

  “I need you.”

  “For what?”

  “Can I unhook your bra?”

  She took a step back and held her bag in front of her for protection. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I need to practice doing it through an item of clothing.” He reached for her and she slapped at his hand.

  “Back off, buster.”

  A woman’s laughter rang down the hall and Liv turned to see Zoe lounging in Frank’s doorway.

  “Has he lost his mind?” Liv all but shouted at Zoe.

  Zoe wandered over and shook her head. “His latest record attempt. He wants to unhook the most bras in sixty seconds and plans on practicing on different bras and different women since they’re all, well, different.”

  “And this doesn’t bother you?”

  “So long as mine is the only one he’s unhooking without the benefit of a top layer of clothing, I’m fine with it. Anything is better than the cricket spit, so I’m trying to keep an open mind.”

  Liv laughed when every ounce of blood in Frank’s body flooded his cheeks. “Well, Frank, in that case I’d happily accommodate you, but I don’t wear a bra.”

  She didn’t think it was possible for the blush to deepen, but it did. “I won’t need you today, Zoe, but I know you were scheduled, so I’ll make sure you’re paid. Go have fun unhooking your bra with Frank.”

  Zoe’s eyes narrowed, but she was apparently not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She stuck a finger down the neck of Frank’s T-shirt, pulling him back to the apartment. Liv’s feeling of well-being expanded even further with her good deed.

  She made her way to Mike’s apartment, fished out the rabbit’s foot from her handbag, slipped in the key and—wiggle, wiggle, bump—got the door open.

  “C’mon, Rett. Let’s get it done. We have five hours to set up.” She put the carrier in the living room, but didn’t open it. Not quite yet.

  She left the front door cracked and hurried back and forth, unloading her food and gifts. Mike wouldn’t know what hit him.

  Finally finished, she decided she could leave the rental car right where it was. Either Mike wouldn’t know who it belonged to, or he’d think her insurance company was flush. Regardless, it didn’t affect her cover story and she was too pooped to even think about walking around the block after she moved it.

  Back inside the apartment, she smacked her hands together and rubbed them until they burned. Time to get cracking. First, she let Rett out of his cage and hoped he’d leave her alone. Mike had left out a dish of food for the little creature, so she put it on the floor as far from the kitchen as possible.

  A neatly written note from Mike lay centered on the dining table. A quick look told her it was the recipe for Really Clean Salmon. The directions looked simple enough. She sighed and rubbed her hands together, working up the courage to attempt the meal.

  She set out two salmon steaks on sheets of foil, then seasoned them carefully according to the directions. She only hoped she got the right amount. Some of it called for a “pinch” or “to taste”.

  After wrapping the foil carefully around the fish she set the packages in the top rack of the dishwasher. The recipe said to run it through a pots-and-pans cycle, but Mike’s machine only had heavy and light wash. She opted for heavy, deciding it was better if the fish was a little overdone than under.

  Next, she pulled out the lace tablecloth and candlesticks. Then came the china and napkins to complete the romantic setting. She set them up and smiled. Even though they were decorating a metal and Formica table, it looked perfect. After decorating and tidying up, she flopped onto the couch and flipped through a fashion magazine she’d purchased today at the check-out. She still got a little giddy when she thought about doing her own grocery shopping. She felt…competent. The soft hum from the dishwasher lulled her to sleep.

  Mike walked through the door, the twin candles catching his gaze. Liv walked to him, her lacy peignoir floating behind her like a white cloud.

  “Welcome home,” she whispered the moment before she put a hand on his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

  He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to his bed. “I’ve missed you, too.” He bent his head and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. “Liv, I can’t keep this in a moment longer.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’re amazing. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.” He set her down on the bed. “I love you. Marry me?”

  “Oh, Mike.” The words were a breath of air and she threw her arms around his neck. “Of course I’ll ma
rry you.”

  Liv jerked awake and shook her head hard to erase the memory of her dream. Mike had made it perfectly clear he wasn’t into serious. Any thoughts of marriage or even going steady needed to be completely eliminated from her brain. She needed to go into this night with no expectations or thoughts of permanence. She wanted to be realistic about the whole thing—wanting more had gotten her nothing last time.

  She put her feet up on Mike’s coffee table and made note of the weight bench squeezed in between his bed and the bathroom door. She hadn’t been to her trainer in over a week and even though she’d always worked out on Nautilus machines, she figured anyone with half a brain could use free weights. Might as well make good use of her time and work out some frustration.

  She crossed to the bench and eyed the pole resting above it. There were no weights on it and she didn’t think that would work. She might not be Ms. Universe, but she wasn’t any wimp with spaghetti arms. Liv looked at the pile of black disks on the floor and selected two medium-sized ones. They would do.

  After she slipped one onto each end, she lay down on the bench and grabbed hold of the bar. After a few tiny trial lifts, about an inch off of the Y-shaped rests, she decided she could lift the bar with ease.

  Up, arms straight, breathe out. She moved it to hover above her breasts. Down, touch the spot between her chest and collar bone. This was a breeze.

  Up and down. Again. Again. Yeah, baby. Finally the muscles in her arms began to quiver. Feel the burn. This was awesome.

  Down and uh…uh… The bar hit her chest with a thump and breath whooshed out of her. She tried to lift it again, but couldn’t straighten her exhausted arms to get the bar up on the rests. Couldn’t even sit up. The weights had her well and truly trapped.

  Now what? She lay there for a moment, pondering her predicament, when she saw a flash of brown out of the corner of one eye. Oh. No. Rett had wandered over to her.

  She twisted her head left and right but couldn’t catch sight of the creature until his head popped up at the foot of the weight bench, his head framed between her bent knees. She watched as his whiskers twitched and his eyes blinked. Once. Twice.

  He reached his decision and leaped onto the bench, sitting up on his haunches and watching Liv curiously. She swore she could see the wheels turning in his little weasel brain. Was he laughing at her?

  “What are you looking at? Never seen a woman trapped under a bar before?” She huffed a breath. “Mike never did anything this stupid in front of you, did he?”

  Rett crept forward a few steps.

  “Oh no you don’t. Stop right there.” She breathed a sigh of relief when the ferret sat up again. “Why couldn’t Mike have Lassie instead of some little weasel? Huh? Lassie would go for help and I wouldn’t be lying here talking to a stupid ferret.”

  Rett put one paw on her thigh, drawing it back when Liv shook it off. He tried again when she stopped moving and she shook him off again.

  “Is this going to be like those horror movies where the babies are eaten by rats?” She closed her eyes. What had happened to her perfect day?

  Rett seized the moment and scurried up her torso and on to the bar. “What are you doing, you little creep? Get off!” Liv struggled to keep the bar from falling when the ferret ran to the right and perched on the circular weight. The bar tipped to the right and she panicked, yanking as hard as she could to the left with her exhausted arms. The ferret jumped down as the bar dropped like a stone, the weight sliding off the end with a clang. Like a teeter-totter when one person jumps off the end, the heavy side of the bar instantly dropped the other way and the weight fell off onto the floor. She lifted the bar up to the rest and heaved a sigh.

  She was free. And she owed it all to a weasel. He sat expectantly at her feet, silently reminding her she owed him a debt. She always paid her debts.

  “Hang tight.” She went into the kitchen and rolled up a ball of foil, tossing it at him. He attacked it ferociously, throwing it up in the air and chasing it around until he must have decided his prey was dead. He picked it up in his mouth and trotted away.

  Maybe he was kind of cute, but she still didn’t want to touch him.

  She stole a quick glance at the slim watch on her wrist. Mike should be home in less than an hour. Time to get the finishing touches in place.

  She scooped the little pink paper sack out of her overnight bag, along with some cosmetics and a brush, and hurried into the bathroom, stripping off her jeans and sweater.

  She gave her naked body the eye in the mirror above the tiny sink. Small breasts, but firm and smooth, topped a slim torso and a set of six-pack abs. She seldom showed off her toned body, as she considered dressing in a revealing manner uncouth, but tonight would be an exception.

  She snagged the jewel-green teddy out of the bag and held up the tiny bit of silk and lace. It complimented her creamy skin and new brown hair perfectly, bringing out the hint of green in her mostly gray eyes. She couldn’t have chosen a better color if she’d had help from Gauguin.

  She smoothed it on, enjoying the goose bumps that littered her body from a cross between the feel of the smooth cloth and anticipation.

  She put her clothes back on top, but left a few buttons undone on the sweater so it could be made to slip off her shoulder and show a bit of green if the mood struck.

  She touched up her makeup, fluffed her hair and called it done. She pulled the fish out of the dishwasher, hoping it didn’t need to go through the entire dry cycle. When she peeled back the foil, she was delighted to see the pale flesh was nice and flaky. Perfectly cooked. Unbelievable. She slipped the steaks onto a plate, added veggies and a bit of rice. It was five o’clock on the dot. Mike should be home at any time, so she lit the candles and leaned against the kitchen counter, a glass of chardonnay in her nervous hands, to wait for him.

  The longest twenty minutes of her life passed, and she was beginning to think something had happened when she saw the knob turn. Her breath caught in her throat as the door swung open and Mike stepped through.

  He was so extraordinary. Tall, but not too tall; solid and handsome. He was everything she could possibly dream of, everything she wanted but hadn’t had a clue until last night.

  The look on his face was priceless. He stopped dead and stared at the candles, the china and then, slowly, his gaze moved to Liv.

  Her heart pounded in her ribcage so loudly she figured the neighbors could hear. She smiled, what she wanted to be a “come-hither” smile, but figured the best she could hope for was a tremulously sensual one. “Welcome home.”

  He swallowed, the only movement he’d made in the last five minutes. She saw his hands clench once, twice, before he cleared his throat and spoke. “What are you doing?”

  Not the response she was hoping for. She set down the wineglass and moved to his side, sliding one hand up his arm. “What do you think?” Her voice was so soft, she was afraid he hadn’t heard her until she saw his eyes dilate.

  He grabbed her hand and stopped its rhythmic movement on his forearm. “This is wrong.”

  “Why?”

  “You have a fiancé, remember?” He pushed her away and stalked toward the bathroom.

  “Not for long.” Her voice was stronger now, and it stopped his feet instantly. He slowly revolved until he faced her and tilted his head, looking deeply into her eyes.

  “What?” It was a whisper.

  Liv breathed in deeply, feeling like she was risking the world with her next words. “I’m seeing him tomorrow to give back his ring. I tried breaking it off today, but he didn’t think I was serious.”

  Mike scrubbed his face with a hand before looking back at her. “I need a shower.” He walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

  Huh. Not what she was expecting from him in the least, but he hadn’t told her to leave, so she picked up her wine and sat down on the couch. Clearly her attempts at seduction were juvenile and unsuccessful. Now what?

  She leaned her head back over the edge
of the sofa and closed her eyes, digging through the deepest recesses of her brain for some inspiration. She felt drowsy; the house was quiet and warm, and she let herself relax.

  Something tickled her neck. A shiver started at a spot just below her ear and rippled out as if someone had dropped a stone in a pond. She awakened slowly, becoming aware of what was happening to her.

  Her eyes fluttered open to see Mike standing behind the couch. He pressed a warm kiss to her exposed throat. Her body reacted instantly, nipples hardening, stomach tightening.

  Yeah, this was the response she’d hoped for. She cupped his face and pulled his mouth to hers, needing his kiss more than she needed air. His hair was damp from the shower, and he hadn’t bothered to do more than pull on a pair of sweats. When he circled around the couch to face her, she realized he hadn’t even taken the time for a pair of jockey shorts, judging from the tent in his pants.

  Mike straddled her where she sat, raining kisses down her face, down her throat, groaning when she touched his bare back. He slipped his hands under her sweater and tugged it over her head. She felt a moment of panic that things were moving too fast and back-pedaled a bit.

  “Dinner,” she gasped. “Don’t you want to eat?”

  “Mmm…I’m having dessert first.” His hands slid over the silken teddy, and he purred deep in his throat. “Ah, Livvy, did you do this for me?”

  When his hands cupped her breasts through the fabric, she gasped and nodded. His thumbs circled her nipples, sending flashes of pleasure straight between her legs. She moved her hips against his thigh and he responded in kind, grinding against her.

  “This is crazy,” he murmured against her throat.

  “I know.”

  He scooped her up, the sudden movement startling her, and carried her to his bed. After gently laying her down, he unbuttoned her jeans and tugged them off, stepping back to look at her. She was self-conscious under his gaze and fought the urge to grab the bedspread and cover herself.

  “You’re beautiful.” His quiet words gave her back all the confidence she needed.