by Mia Carson
I marched back inside and locked the door behind me. I adjusted my shorts—I really was sore and knew a bath would help, but it was seven o’clock on a Sunday morning. I wanted a couple more hours of sleep. I walked back into my room, stared at my broken bed, and sighed. I dismissed it with a wave, flopped down on it, and fell back to sleep almost instantly.
Two hours later, I giggled as I walked to the bathroom, my soreness more pronounced now, and started a bath. That man’s cock is a masterpiece, I thought to myself. One that will take adjusting to. I giggled again as I stripped and eased my body into the bath. The hot water instantly soothed the tenderness between my legs, and I relaxed back into the warmth, my thoughts playing around in my head.
The man was amazing, everything I wanted in a partner, and though he didn’t seem to have any baggage, none that was visible anyway, everyone had some. I didn’t want to find his. I wanted him to remain perfect so I could have an uncomplicated relationship.
An idea struck me and I reached for my phone, careful not to drop it or get it wet, so I could text Madison. I glanced at the time…Madison wasn’t an early riser, but I thought I was safe.
Mel: Good morning! Let’s go have lunch at Antonio’s.
Madison: Do you have any idea what time it is?
Mel: Nearly ten?
Madison: Do you mean 9:15? Because that is not nearly ten.
Mel: It’s close enough. I need to tell you about Will!
Madison: What time?
Mel: Noon. That way we can enjoy a margarita while we eat.
Madison: Did you fuck him?!?!
Mel: I’ll tell you at lunch.
Madison: Fine. Bitch. I’ll be there at noon.
***
After my bath, I got caught up on cutting some music for a dance and lost track of time. When I glanced up, I realized it was nearly noon. Luckily, Antonio’s was only a few minutes from my home, and I had dressed after the bath rather than lounging in a bathrobe like I normally would on a Sunday morning. Just as I parked my car, my phone pinged.
Madison: Where are you?
Mel: I’m walking in now.
Madison: I’m on the patio and have already ordered your margarita. Hurry up.
“Can you let a girl walk through the damn restaurant?” I asked as I stepped out onto the patio and caught sight of her.
“When you wake me up at the crack of dawn, the least you can do is be on time for lunch,” she complained.
“Nine-thirty is hardly the crack of dawn.”
“Nine-fifteen,” she reminded me pointedly.
“Whatever. You know, if you’d had wonderful sex last night, maybe you wouldn’t be so damn crabby,” I said nonchalantly, as if a good romp in the sack was my usual Saturday night.
Madison put her palms on the table and gasped out a laugh. “You did fuck him! You slut! I love it!”
“What can I say?” I returned, lifting my hands. “The man is charming. And perfect. And oh, my God! So well-endowed I was sore this morning!” Madison squealed, and I remembered we were in public. I glanced around, but the few patrons who were on the patio paid us no attention.
“Oh my God, I want all the details. Did you say perfect?” Madison asked, her eyes wide.
“Yes, perfect. He’s so sweet, Madison, and he makes me laugh,” I gushed, my eyes rolling back in my head in an I’m-in-heaven kind of way. I sounded like a lovesick teenager. I told about her the kiss at the beginning of the night and what he’d said about telling him to leave or he’d fuck me right there. She loved it and was so excited for me. Somewhere in the middle of my story, our margaritas were delivered, and we finished them as I told her the rest.
“I’m so happy for you, Mel,” Madison said after we ordered more margaritas and our lunch. “I do have some juicy gossip about him, though. Want to hear it?”
I debated for a moment, and my thoughts about baggage returned. This is it, I thought, hoping it was just ugly gossip rather than one hundred percent truth. “How accurate is this gossip?”
“Pretty reliable. I happen to work with Denise’s sister-in-law, who told me the whole thing when we were on the phone yesterday.”
“Who is Denise?”
“Will’s ex-girlfriend,” Madison said with relish. She loved good gossip, as did I, when it didn’t affect me.
“I was hoping there was no baggage with this one,” I mumbled and flopped my body back into the chair. I thanked the waiter when he set down my second margarita. I glanced at Madison and lifted it. “How many of these will I need?”
“Not sure. I mean, I don’t know that it’s that bad, but I guess it could be,” Madison replied before sipping her second one.
“Let me enjoy a couple more moments of pure bliss and tequila before you destroy all my hopes,” I said with some sarcasm in my voice. She chuckled as I inhaled a large slurp of the lime-flavored drink.
“You’re so dramatic. That’s why we’re friends,” she told me.
I waved at her. “Go ahead and tell me about his sordid past.”
“It’s more her sordid past.”
“Her who?”
“Denise Irving. You know her. Her daughter is one of your dancers…um, Brittani, I think,” Madison said.
“I do know her. She’s nice enough, and I know I’ve met the mother but can’t remember her,” I said with a shrug. “Of course, she and Cara—that’s Will’s daughter—they hate each other.”
“Well, you’re about to find out why.” Madison and I sat back as the waiter delivered our enchiladas. “So, Will and Denise were high school sweethearts. They’re both hometown Brayman.”
“But he didn’t marry her?”
“No, he met his wife at college, apparently, and from what Laura told me, Denise went crazy, spreading awful rumors ruthlessly about the wife and about Will once they moved back to Brayman—although Laura says Will didn’t know about any of that, and I’d bet the wife didn’t, either. Anyway, after the wife died, Will and Denise rekindled their relationship.”
“But wasn’t she married to Brittani’s dad?”
“They divorced because he was screwing his secretary,” Madison said, a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“Oh, my God, am I in a soap opera?” I asked, laughing. The margaritas were strong, and I was beginning to think I needed another one. “Could this get any worse?”
“Well, they broke up pretty quickly, like less than a year,” Madison told me. “Laura didn’t know why, but the rumor was that she was screwing around with some dude they went to high school with.”
“And this is all rumors?” I asked.
“Some of it,” Madison sighed. “I mean, he did date her, and you know the daughters hate each other, so it must have been at least a little ugly.”
“Awesome. All I need is more drama. Teenage girls create it from nothing. Can you imagine what will happen if I date Will?” We had finished our meal during the conversation, and the waiter asked if we wanted another margarita. “Um, no thanks. I have to drive home, and I have work to do.”
“Boring,” Madison crowed, though she shook her head no as well.
“I’ll bring your check in a minute, ladies,” the waiter said with a smile. “Unless you want sopapillas?”
“Um, yes. Bring us an order please,” I answered. When Madison lifted an eyebrow, I said, “Hey, I can’t have another margarita, so I’ll consume the calories by eating fried bread with cinnamon and sugar all over it.”
“Are you freaking out over this information?” Madison asked me. I nodded, staring at the table. “That’s stupid, Mel.”
“You don’t understand. I’ve already thought about the whole conflict-of-interest thing. I’ve had to settle arguments between Cara and Brittani…minor things, but still. This will make it worse, and you know it.”
“I do know it’s a possibility, but you’ve been forewarned. You can cut it off early.” Madison shrugged. “Please, for the love of God, do not blow this man off because of a minor issue with an e
x.”
“A minor issue that could become a major one. It could affect my job, Madison,” I huffed irritated. My mind spun with all the ways this could go wrong.
“Stop it!” Madison said, slamming a palm on the table loudly. “You are sitting here thinking about all the ways this could go wrong when you should be thinking about the awesome time you had with a handsome, kind man. Those girls will get over it.” She grabbed my hand, forcing me to look up at her. “This relationship could be real, Mel. Don’t let some small town bullshit ruin it for you.”
“You know what, you’re right. I don’t live there, I just teach there. If things get weird, I can always call it off or slow it down.”
“Or not let stupid bitches get in the way of something awesome,” Madison said.
“Don’t call Cara and Brittani bitches!” I replied.
“I’m not, moron. I’m calling Denise and her small town friends bitches,” she answered.
“Should I talk to my boss about it?”
“Maybe. Get a feel for the atmosphere during practice tomorrow. You’ll know real fast if the girls are going to cause problems. Decide then,” Madison said.
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea,” I mumbled. “For now, I’m going to enjoy these sopapillas and revel in their sweetness. Then, I’m going to go home and try to fix my bed.”
“Fix your bed? The two of you broke your bed last night?” she squeaked, causing several heads to turn in our direction. I shushed her, she laughed, and I shrugged my shoulders and told her about it. “Mel, you can’t break it off with him! The sex sounds phenomenal, and that’s worth a few rumor problems.”
I laughed, nodding in agreement.
***
An hour later, I was on the floor inside the bed stand, staring at the broken center. There would be no repairing it. I glanced at my mattress and box spring, which were leaning against the wall. I resigned myself to the fact that I’d be sleeping with the mattresses directly on the floor until I could put a little money away to buy a new bed. I needed a new one anyway—I’d taken this bed and the mattresses to college with me, which had been ten years ago. And I’d slept on them since I was fifteen.
I began disassembling the bed stand so I could put my mattress and box spring back in the same spot it had been in. Frowning, I used all my strength to pull apart the wooden clamps, groaning loudly. Finally, they began to loosen, and in less than ten minutes, I had a pile of wood rather than a bed in my bedroom. Two or three pieces at a time, I carried them to the garage, trying to remember when large trash pickup day was.
As I worked, I thought about the fact that I hadn’t heard from Will yet today. It was only two o’clock, but still, I’d hoped for at least a text. I contemplated texting him first, but the dating game rules implied I should wait for him.
As I discarded the last piece of the bed, I heard the doorbell. Frowning down at myself, I thought about ignoring the person at the door. I was sweaty and dirty and just wanted a shower so I could finish editing the music that needed to be done. But the doorbell rang again. Someone was awfully insistent.
I peered through the peephole and saw two delivery men. I opened the door, frowning in consternation. I hadn’t ordered anything that would require two men to deliver it. Assuming they had the wrong house, I asked, “May I help you?”
“Ms. Ulrich?” the taller one asked.
“Yes, that’s me,” I answered.
“We’re here with your new bed,” he replied, a smile on his face. He held out a clipboard. “If you’ll sign here and show us where you want it, we’ll put it together.”
“New bed?” I hadn’t reached for the clipboard, only stared at him. “I didn’t order a new bed.”
“No ma’am, you didn’t, but I have a note from the person who did. You can read it before you sign off if you’d like,” he said. He handed me a small envelope with my name on it.
When I opened it, I found a picture of a king-sized sleigh bed made of darkened wood, though I didn’t know what kind. The bed was extravagant and beautiful, and way more expensive than I could ever afford. I opened the card and read:
Mel,
I’m terribly sorry that my expert lovemaking broke your bed. Because it was my fault, I would like to replace it for you. If you don’t like the one I’ve chosen, please return it and order whichever you like. I can’t wait to see you this week.
Have a restful night’s sleep, beautiful,
Will
Shock coursed through my veins, and I stood in the doorway, dumbfounded, for several seconds. I didn’t know whether I should accept the gift or not. The price had not been included on the picture, nor in the note, but it was a costly gift, more costly than what you gave a person after only one weekend.
“Uh, ma’am, do you want us to bring the bed inside?” the man asked, his smile gone because I hadn’t spoken in over a minute.
“Um…I don’t know. It’s such a weird gift,” I answered with a baffled smile.
“Someone bought this bed for you as a gift?” he asked, shock in his tone. I nodded. “Pardon my intrusion, but take it! This is the nicest bed we have, and the accompanying mattresses are top of the line. You’ll sleep better than you have in years.”
I smiled uncertainly then nodded again. “Um, let me show you where to take it. My mattresses are still in there. I’ll shuffle them out to the garage.”
“Don’t worry about that, ma’am. We take them with us and donate them to shelters,” the man told her, smiling.
“That’s really nice,” I murmured as I showed them to my bedroom and pointed at the spot where the bed should be. “Please put it there.”
“Yes ma’am. We’ll be out of your hair in about twenty or thirty minutes.” He gestured to his partner, and they walked back outside.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed my phone.
Mel: Are you serious? You bought me a bed?
Will: I’ve been waiting for two hours for your text! Do you like it?
Mel: It’s very extravagant.
Will: It’s perfect for you. I hope you like it.
Mel: I do, but I’m not sure I should accept it.
Will: Yes you should. I won’t take it back.
Mel: Thank you. I love it, but you’re crazy.
Will: Maybe so, but we’ll have to work a lot harder to break that bed.
Mel: LOL! Don’t challenge me.
Will: Never! Can I call you this evening?
Mel: That would be nice.
My smile was a permanent fixture on my face as I watched the two men carry my new bed into my room. That man was a keeper, that was for sure.
Will
“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?” I murmured as I watched the mare wander around the fenced paddock. I spoke to myself mostly, though my ranch foreman was standing nearby. The man, Wayne, didn’t answer. There was no need to. I glanced at him. “Think she’ll do all right for riding?”
“She seems a little skittish for working with cattle, but she’ll learn, I think,” Wayne mused. He slapped me on the back as he turned to walk away. “She’s a good buy, Will.”
“Catch ya’ later,” I called as he wandered away, the conversation over as far as he was concerned. I shook my head. Wayne was the best ranch foreman in the state, but he was short on words.
I leaned against the fence for a bit longer, watching the mare. The paddock was as big as a football field, and she had explored every inch, either while I was in the saddle or after I unsaddled her, brushed her, and put her back in the paddock to cool down. The grass this time of year, especially after the summer we’d had, was golden rather than green, so I had put some feed near the water trough for her.
The barn to the left would be her home. It was large enough for her and the other three horses I owned to have their own stalls at night. Rather than the stereotypical red, our barn had only been stained a dark brown. Another paddock, a smaller one for calves and their mothers, was on the other side of the ba
rn. A storage shed that held the tack was attached to the barn, and like in a movie, was big enough for a person to live in, should one wish to.
The house was my pride and joy, though. I had designed it myself when I’d made enough money to replace the old, original clapboard house that had been on the place when I’d bought it. The exterior was made of stones with a wooden wraparound porch. On the porch were two rocking chairs that matched the wood. The door was larger than average and green with windows to peep through, should someone knock unexpectedly. The house was only one level but sprawled out over 3,500 square feet. I had wondered if the house was too big, especially since only Cara and I lived there, but I could afford it and liked it.
