by Poppy Dunne
“Chelle.” That’s a rugged, masterful voice right next to me, and it’s being wielded by a rugged, masterful man. I feel like rugged, masterful should be directly under Will’s name on his business cards. Sorry, I’m mentally stalling for time. I do that when I know I’m about to be either deliriously happy or disastrously sad. It’s an instinct.
“You liked the show?” I walk with him around the corner of the building, so no one can see how truly freaked out I am. Will leans a shoulder against the wall, and looks down at me with those glinting gray eyes of his. And the expression I read in them is…concern.
Is concern what you feel when you give people red roses? Shit, maybe I have the language of flowers all jumbled up in my head. Wouldn’t be the first thing to get jumbled in there.
“Chelle,” he says again. I could listen to my name on his tongue every day. I could also put a lot of parts of mine on his tongue every day, but that feels not terribly classy to say out loud, so I don’t. Barely.
“Will.” Here we are, playing say my name, say your name. A few more rounds of this, and we can sort of call it a conversation. Here’s hoping.
“That was an incredible show,” he says at last. A wide, gleaming smile stretches over his face. God, I missed seeing that. I didn’t realize how badly I’d missed it.
“Thanks,” I say, a bit breathless. “The kids did all the work. I just directed it. And painted the sets. And hung the lights.”
“I know. I was there.” Then he steps closer, the distance between us reduced to mere inches. I feel like my mouth’s gone dry as cotton as he takes my hand, his fingers skimming the delicate skin of my wrist. “I’m sorry about what you saw, that day.”
“I’m sorry,” I say instantly. I don’t think I can keep staring up into his gorgeous face, so I study my shoes instead. Nicest shoes Payless can provide. “I should’ve stayed and talked things through. I freaked and ran and that wasn’t right.”
“How are you feeling now?” he asks softly, still tentative. That’s the stockbroker in him, probably, the part that doesn’t want to go all in on a purchase until he knows for a fact it’s going to work. Lifting my eyes again, I meet his stare.
Then I say, softly and gently,“Montana.”
Christ. Way to go, girl.
Will’s brow furrows. “What?”
“I meant, better. Better. I feel better now that I got to talk to Suzonne. Her new fiancé’s pretty…pretty. Much younger. But I think that’s probably a good fit for her.” Am I babbling? Almost certainly. I’m good at that.
“I like him. He’s good to Amelia, so of course I like him.” Will catches the tip of my chin and lifts it higher. Then he leans in a little bit himself, so that his lips just brush against mine as he speaks. “The divorce is speeding up now. We’re going to sign the final papers tomorrow. We’re going to my lawyers to do it.”
That’s it then. He’s going to be completely free.
“What’ll you do with all that litigation-less time on your hands?” I ask cautiously.
He smiles slightly against my mouth, and says, “This.” Then he kisses me.
It’s the same scorching, volcanic heat as before. The second our lips touch, I lose myself in the feel of his body. My arms wrap around his neck, and I revel in the taste and, the touch of him. My feet lift off the ground as he picks me up, and I don’t mind if he doesn’t set me down anytime soon. Or ever. Never’s a good time to be placed down as well.
As well as the heat, there’s a growing thread of tenderness. He cradles the back of my head as he lowers me to the ground, so that only the tips of my toes steady me. His other hand trails down my back, keeping me close as much as taking in the line of my body. And the curves. Well, he’s not too much of a gentleman to keep from exploring those.
Which is exactly the way I like it.
“What do you think?” Will whispers, his lips now inches from mine once more. I’d love nothing more than to climb him like a studly mountain, wrap myself around him, and kiss him again. I’d like to go full on exploratory. But my stomach falls as I step back, creating enough distance to not lose my hormonal mind.
“I’m about to lose my job.” I’m a little dizzy, but I’m grounding myself again. I suppose that’s good. Maybe.
“I know.” Will sets his jaw, which is strong and square enough that you could likely cut diamonds against it. That’s not making this decision any easier. “There’s other schools in Los Angeles, you know. They say there might even be places in the valley.” He shakes his head, like he’s described some mythical Shangri-La locale. “But who the hell knows if that’s even real?”
“Sherman Oaks? ’Tis spoken of in whispers,” I deadpan. Will laughs, the smile exploding across his face. God, it’s hard to say no to that smile. Those lips. Teeth. Molars. Gums. Okay, maybe I need to pull back a little. Getting too close there. “It’s not just that I can’t pay my rent anymore. Will, you may not have noticed this, but I’m a little emotionally…not there?”
“In an uncertain way?”
“More like in a doesn’t exist way. My emotions are still in the chrysalis stage. Then they’ll come out with fabulous butterfly wings, like all purple and ochre and bright yellow, and maybe they’ll, like, fly away from me.” None of that made sense. Doesn’t matter. Continue. “When things looked bad, I didn’t stick around. I ran.”
“It wasn’t as if you were entirely on your own in the department of bad decisions,” he adds. Then he comes closer, his manly pine scent closing in on me.
It’s like wanting to have sex with a forest. Who knew that was a fetish? “I should’ve been clear about the situation with Suzonne and me.”
Oh, who am I kidding? He’s right, and we should start making out in celebration. I blink fast.
No. Focus. Be honest, Chelle.
“I have baggage. In my car, obviously, because I never unpack anything, but also personally. You’ve got Amelia to think about. She’s already got so much upheaval going on. Do you really think bringing my crazy into her life is a good thing?”
Will pauses. Shit. I can see the wheels turning in his head as he takes all that into account, and my heart sinks. I know I did the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing. I reminded him that he’s a dad first and foremost and that screwing his daughter’s teacher is not the way to increase stability.
“Amelia was acting out a little when you came into her life,” he says at last. He continues towards me, pressing me flush up against the wall. Not a bad place to be, all things considered. “I knew the separation was getting to her. When you showed up, made her laugh, gave her an outlet, she blossomed. I wasn’t getting through to her and neither was Suzonne. You made my kid happy again.” He puts a hand to my cheek, his fingers twining into my hair. His thumb traces a soft, intoxicating path down my neck. “I think you’re the best thing for my daughter.” His other hand slides around my back, and I let myself go flush against him. He looks down at me, lust and need and a little fear glimmering in his eyes. “If you don’t want to take on a divorced man with a kid, I can’t blame you. But don’t worry about me for a goddamn second. Think about what you want. The open road? Or me.” He pauses, as if thinking that through, and amends it. “Us.”
Us. That’s a wild, wonderful, and frightening word. It also lights up my entire body, sending energy shooting through my bloodstream, sparking my nerve endings. I’m not a biologist, but I’m pretty sure that’s what’s happening. The point, beyond anything else, is that it was the single word I needed to hear.
“You don’t mind having a clown in the family?” I stand on my toes again—damn, this man is tall—and slide my hands up his chest to hook around his neck. He leans down, smiling against my mouth.
“I’ve got too many clowns to begin with. At least you make me laugh.”
“That’s a sexy quality, so I’m told.”
“The sexiest.” Then his mouth closes over mine again, and I’m lost. His tongue strokes lightly against mine, and I groan as I taste h
im. Peppering kisses along his jawline, I revel in the growl of satisfaction that reverberates through his body. Whatever comes, we can handle it together. I believe that now. It’s good to believe in something.
“Besides, Amelia always wanted to learn how to juggle,” he whispers in my ear. Man, I wish I could make snort-laughing sexy, but hey, at least Will doesn’t seem to mind.
“Speaking of the future juggler, we should get back. Amelia will wonder what happened,” I say as I finally disentangle myself. Before Will can wander off with lipstick smeared all over his face, I grab my organic tissues and help neaten him up. See? Those suckers came in handy after all.
Since I’m about to be let go anyway, we wander back up to the auditorium with our arms around each other. No point in hiding any longer. Bye, Beyoncé and Jay-Z. Bye Spielberg. It’s the Chelle and Will show now, and we don’t need your approval.
“Chelle. What’s this?” Willow asks as she appears before us in a cloud of sandalwood and citrus. She’s dressed in what appears to be a long cotton sheath, with turquoise beads jangling at her wrists. She looks Will and me over like something alarming is going down. Well, so what? I am a grown woman with a functioning relationship and a well-received elementary school musical. Nothing can stop me now.
“We were just walking back to get Amelia.” I squeeze Will tighter around the waist, and he returns the squeeze.
Willow’s eyebrows lift. “Oh. Well, I wanted to talk to you about staying on at Bay of Dreams.”
Oh. Well, in that case, maybe I should adopt a professional stance, like not clinging on to a child’s parent. I manage to untangle myself, just for the moment.
“Oh?” Why did that come out as a squeak? Why can’t I sound badass?
“I had a discussion with the principal just now. We shared a cup of lotus tea, and we do still need to work with the astrolabe to determine your salary.” She grins at this, like this is a thing normal people say to one another. Then again, what the hell do I know about normal? “But we both agreed that you’ve done exceptional work here. The children seem to love you, and we’re already trending on Twitter!” She shows me her phone, in a wood paneled case.
Sure enough, Beyoncé tweeted and we are rocketing up into three thousand tweets. All publicity is good, and this one is better.
“Holy shit.” Will looks quietly amazed. He even takes the phone from me to scroll through the mentions while Willow continues.
“So we’d like to discuss a permanent position here. If that’s something you feel you would like?” Willow frowns. “We don’t want any spiritual displacement.”
Lady, you can displace my spirit and throw all its furniture onto the street if that’s what it takes to stay in this city.
“Oh, that’s something I’d like. I’d be happy to stay on.” I feel about ready to skip down the steps, run over to the pond of tranquility, and take an impromptu naked swim. Of course, my spirits dampen a little. Heh, dampen. Get it? Pond, et cetera. Whatever. Is this going to clash with Will? Because I can feel his gaze track over to me at the same moment I’m having this realization. It’s like we’re in a psychic mind meld. Sex does that to people, so I’m told.
Willow smiles. “Also, we do need to talk about interpersonal relationships,” she says.
Aw, crap.
But Will steps in before I can say anything.
“I don’t think I mentioned how wonderful this school is for my daughter,” he says, giving Willow that certain smile. The one that makes you weak at the knees, but doesn’t quite combust your panties. It’s very well calibrated, that smile. “I was thinking of making a charitable donation to…what needed fixing around here?”
“The stables.” Willow’s face goes slack as she thinks of it. “We want to show the children the gift of caring for horses and never riding them. Saddles are oppression.”
“All the saddle-less horses you can think of.” Will nods his head. “Just let me know what you decide.”
Holy shit, he’s buying our relationship. This would be slightly questionable if it weren’t seriously hot. It’s both. Willow’s mouth puckers as she clearly thinks it through, then grins.
“In that case, I think that so long as interpersonal relationships are conducted in a manner that doesn’t interfere with the children’s chi, we don’t need to worry.”
Willow, you sly fox you.
“Glad to hear it.”
“We don’t take personal checks.”
“I’ll be in touch with my bank in the morning.” Will smiles back, and she walks away.
“This better be worth that amount of money,” I say, still kind of reeling.
Will smiles at me, the dangerous kind. Yep. Panties have officially combusted. “I have the feeling it will be.” He wraps his arm around me again, and we walk back to the auditorium.
Amelia’s holding two bouquets, one from Will and one from Suzonne. She’s back in her regular clothes, though she hasn’t taken off the clown nose yet. Hey, if she feels a spiritual calling to the life, she and I will have a lot to talk about.
When Amelia sees her dad walking up with me, clearly looking loved up, she leaps into the air and squeals. Then she runs at us and tackles me, knocking me straight to the ground. If you want to know what’s the happiest pain you’ll ever experience, get shoved onto concrete by a ten-year-old hugging you too hard. It’ll help you realize what the best things in life truly are.
“You two worked everything out?” Suzonne asks Will. She’s looking very happy with the situation. For the first time in what feels like a long time, I let out a sigh of relief.
“What do you want to do now?” I ask Amelia as I help us both up off the ground. “It’s your night, after all.”
She screws up her face, thinking hard. Then her eyes brighten. “Pie!”
Shit, what’ll Suzonne say to that?
All eyes turn, even D’Andrei’s. He’s rubbing her shoulders, clearly knowing what’s at stake here. Her brow falls, and her mouth screws up.
Aw, crap. She’s going to vegan the hell out of this, isn’t she?
Then, like a miracle, her expression clears. “Sounds good. Can you have her home by eleven?” she asks Will.
Pie! Suzonne’s letting us have pie! It’s like the sun bursting out from behind the clouds, only way more delicious.
“Will do. See you later,” he says, giving her a friendly nod. As Suzonne and her husband-to-be walk back to their car, Amelia leaps into Will’s arms.
“I want apple,” she declares. I pick up her makeup case, and we head for the street.
Truly, this is a kid after my own heart.
22
Will
I’ve never loved watching a woman eat so much. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen a woman eat so much. Chelle’s teaching Amelia the joys of deep dish apple pie, and it’s a beautiful sight. My kid’s giggling, with a dab of vanilla ice cream on her nose as her legs swing back and forth on the leather stool. The two of them are already having a great time without me, which is the way it should be. Chelle sweeps her hair away from her face so she can take an extra large forkful of pie.
God, watching this woman eat gets me horny as fuck. That’s part of it.
Still, I’ve got to watch how turned on I get when Amelia’s around. There’s plenty of time for more adult entertainment later.
“Mom says she and Jason are going to go to Las Vegas tomorrow!” Amelia doesn’t seem fazed by Suzonne’s sudden marriage, and thank god for that. Though I never really saw Suze as a Vegas type of girl. We got married at Big Sur, because A) it was close to her parents, B) she was too pregnant with Amelia to fly, and C) if we put the wedding off any longer her dad was literally going to get his shotgun out of the truck.
Then again, maybe she would’ve been a Vegas type of girl if it hadn’t been for the shotgun. Maybe she’s finally getting what she wanted, the way she wanted it. And I’m glad for her.
Because having Chelle in my life now helps me see what an actual relati
onship is supposed to be. Hot sex, yes. Hell, more than yes; absolutely. But I think she gets me, corny as that sounds. And yeah, I think I get her, too.
So I get her a napkin, before she gets pie crumbs all over herself. My kind of woman.
“Mom says she can drop me off tomorrow morning. She wants me to help her pack up the yurt.” Amelia says it with an obvious sigh of relief. If there’s one reason to give D’Andrei a manful hug, it’s convincing Suzonne to move out of the canyon and into his beach house near Santa Monica. It helps with my commute and Amelia’s commute to me.
Chelle takes the phone, and starts flipping through pictures of the show with Amelia.
“I loved how you looked during the protest number.” Chelle points something out, and Amelia beams. “You looked really invested. You really cared.”
“I just let the spirit move me, like you said.” Amelia nestles her head against Chelle’s arm.
I wave to the guy behind the register. “Box, if you got one.” We’re going to need to keep the rest of this pie fresh. That is, until Chelle sneaks down during the night and eats it. And until I start coming up with foolproof ways to stop her and protect my part of the pie. This relationship is going to be a battle of wits, I can already feel it.
We walk back out to the car, Amelia singing and dancing one of the songs. I’m carrying the box, and Chelle’s got a fistful of plastic forks that she swiped.
“Always thinking ahead.” I lean down and kiss the back of her neck, and that little action alone’s enough to start getting me hard. I need to get this woman back to my place.
“I plan on swiping more during the ride home,” she says sweetly, fluttering her lashes. Devil woman.
We stop by Chelle’s place first to grab Archie. Poor little mutt can’t be left alone for too long. Amelia won’t stop fussing with his ears as we drive back to the canyon, wave goodbye to Suzonne and D’Andrei, and then take off back for my place. In Los Angeles terms, this is all like driving to the moon and back. But for the women in my life, I’d drive even further.
