by Mia Carson
Mel: I haven’t downloaded them yet, but I read the list. There’s only one I don’t know, and none I don’t like.
Will: This was meant to be. We like the same music.
Mel: Haha! You’re such a romantic. What are you doing tonight?
Will: Cara and I have dinner with her grandparents.
Mel: Well, enjoy! I’m leaving school in a few. Call me tonight?
Will: Always, beautiful.
With a smile on my face, I stepped into the hallway. “Cara! Let’s go!”
***
“Cara, you look lovely,” Nana said when we stepped into the restaurant. They were waiting to be escorted to a table, and we arrived right on time.
“Thank you, Nana,” Cara said, kissing her grandmother on the cheek.
“Hello, Will. How are things?” her grandfather asked as he shook his hand.
“Going well, Ed. How about you?”
“Always good when you’re retired,” he chuckled.
We were interrupted by the hostess offering to show us to our table. We followed, our footsteps quiet against the background mariachi music playing over the speakers. The table was in the back near the bar and bathrooms, the same table Ed and Julia sat at every time they ate there. Their drinks were delivered without them having to be asked what they wanted, and Cara and I ordered sweet teas to match theirs.
After ordering food as well, Cara announced, “I have some news.”
I looked at her, wondering what news she might have. Julia looked up from squeezing the lemon in her drink. “Something exciting?”
“I think so,” Cara replied, her eyes twinkling at me. Before I could kick her under the table to silence her, she proclaimed, “Dad has a girlfriend!”
Ed’s eyebrows lifted, and he and Julia exchanged a glance. I hurried to explain to my dead wife’s parents. “She isn’t my girlfriend. We’ve been on one date.” I glared at Cara, who grinned back, and at that moment, I was grateful she didn’t know I’d bought Mel a bed.
“He’s dating my dance teacher, Ms. Ulrich. You met her this summer, remember?” Cara added.
“Oh, yes. A lovely woman,” Julia said, patting Cara’s hand.
Ed looked at me and winked. “It’s about time you dated a nice woman.”
I smiled at him, grateful. “She agreed to go out on a second date with me, so I’m not sure she’s the smartest gal. But you’d like her.”
“Are you okay with it, Cara?” Julia asked. She had always been concerned about Cara’s well-being above anyone else’s, which was fine by me.
Cara nodded. “I love her! She’s funny and nice, but she’ll get on our butts if we act up. She’s a good teacher.” She sipped her tea and continued. “Of course, like I told Dad, I wish he would date my algebra teacher. Maybe she’d give me an A.”
Julia chuckled and asked her husband, “Ed, is it time to reveal our surprise?”
“I think so,” Ed nodded, winking at me again. He had called me earlier in the day to tell me about the surprise, of which I wholeheartedly approved.
“Surprise?” Cara asked, looking from one to the other.
“We’re taking you to Mexico over Thanksgiving break!” Julia exclaimed, clapping her hands. “You and one of your friends! Happy early birthday!”
Cara looked from me to them and back, her grin so wide I thought it must surely hurt her cheeks. “Dad, can I go?”
“Of course!” I said with a laugh. “You’ll love Mexico!”
“Nana, Grandpa, thank you so much!” She ran around to the other side of the table to hug both their necks. “Oh, gosh, we’ll have so much fun.”
“Yes, we will,” Ed said, winking again, his trademark habit. “Ah, here comes our food. Let’s fill our bellies before we talk about this anymore.”
***
I had left my phone in the truck, so when we climbed in, I glanced at it. Three missed text messages from Denise. Sighing, I returned my phone to the cup holder and turned the ignition. Cara saw my movement and snatched my phone up.
“Why is she texting you?” she asked angrily. “I certainly hope you aren’t planning on dating her again.”
“No, Mom. I have no idea why she’s texting me,” I answered as I pulled my phone out of her hand and dropped it in my lap. “I’ll deal with it when we get home.”
Cara sniffed and looked out the window, her displeasure clear before she spoke. “Dad, she’s awful.”
“I thought you liked her.”
“I pretended to like her, but I never did,” she replied stiffly. “And Brittani is just the worst.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Cara. I really wish you’d told me before this,” I said to her. When Denise and I had been dating, the girls had seemed to like each other, and Cara often went shopping with both of them.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I thought you were happy with her and didn’t want to mess it up.”
“Well, honey, you don’t have to worry about Denise. I will not be dating her again,” I promised.
“Okay, good. I like Ms. Ulrich better, anyway. How long before I can call her Mel?” she asked.
“When she says you can. Or at least not until she comes to the house for dinner,” I told her, nodding my head as if this was the best option.
At home, she again ran into her room and closed the door, the typical teenager, and I changed into shorts and a t-shirt. I planned to veg out on the couch and watch some ESPN until time for bed. I had forgotten about the text until I reached for my phone to play Bubble Shooter, my favorite time-wasting game. Each text was spaced about an hour apart.
Denise: Hello? I’m hoping that after all we’ve been through we can still be friends. Just wanted to check on you and Cara.
Denise: So Brittani told me a little piece of gossip about you and a certain teacher. I was just wondering if maybe she was mistaken about seeing the two of you kissing in the front parking lot.
Denise: It doesn’t matter to me if it’s true or not, but rumors are rumors. Don’t want any negativity spread about you or the dance teacher.
I snorted when I read the last text. The irony of her statement was probably completely lost on her. She was the rumor monger in Brayman, and everybody knew it. The texts did give me pause though. She was fishing for information for a reason, and that reason probably wouldn’t be a good one. Sneering at my phone, I debated—answer her or ignore her? Once again, I chose to ignore her, hoping she would fade into the background of my life where she belonged.
Mel
I rushed home Thursday afternoon to shower and change for my date with Will. He’d texted me earlier and told me to dress casually. I chose a pair of jeans and a diaphanous top with a similarly colored tank underneath for modesty’s sake. Again, he hadn’t told me what we were doing or where we were going, but in Texas, jeans and boots were a good choice for any casual evening.
I sat at my table with my laptop, my phone playing the music he had paid for, checking my email. My mom had been bugging me about coming home for a weekend, even though I had been there right before school started. More than a million times, I had reminded her that I couldn’t get away during football season. Thanksgiving was truly the first break I would have. Again, I answered her email with this reasoning, knowing full well when I called her this weekend, as I always did, she would bug me about it.
I pressed send just as Will’s knock sounded on my door. I hurried to open it without turning off my music so he could hear that I had downloaded his list of songs.
“Hello, handsome,” I said in my best sexy voice.
“Hello, beautiful,” he replied. He stepped inside and pushed me against the wall, his mouth attacking mine. Our tongues danced together, and my arms linked around his neck as his hands clasped behind my back. His hips pressed into mine, and I could feel his cock pressing into me. I wanted him immediately and wondered if I’d get him tonight.
When our lips separated and he stepped back, I murmured, “Wow.”
“I’ve been dying to do tha
t since Monday,” he told me.
“Do we have to go out?” I asked somewhat facetiously. If he crooked his finger at me, I’d be naked in an instant, though I didn’t say that out loud.
Will pretended to consider. “Well, I’m kind of hungry. Want to cook for me?”
“Ew, no. I don’t like to cook,” I replied, a grimace on my face.
“I do, so we’re perfect for each other,” he answered with a grin. “Why don’t you come to my house Saturday? I’ll cook you a fantastic dinner.”
My heart beat a little faster, and I smiled broadly. “I’d love that.”
He hadn’t stepped away during our conversation, and after my answer, he began kissing my jaw and throat, murmuring sweet phrases to me. “I’ll send Cara to a friend’s house or her grandparent’s house so we can have the place to ourselves.”
“I like that idea,” I whispered in reply, tilting my head more so he could kiss my pulse, which I knew was jumping like mad. Before I could make a fool out of myself, I pushed him away. “If you keep that up, we’ll be breaking in my new bed.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “I like the sound of that, but I told my pals I’d bring you to the bar so they could meet you.”
“What?” I asked, the anxiety caused by that statement killing my arousal. “You’re introducing me to your friends?”
“Just a couple of them. You’ll know a lot of the people there,” he told me carelessly, as if this was no big deal.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I grabbed my purse and headed for the door. He opened the door for me and slapped my ass as I walked past. I turned back and ran my fingers over his crotch. “Don’t tempt me, buddy.”
He shivered. “Good God, woman. You may just be the love of my life.”
“You joke, but I think you may be right.” I said this with confidence. The feelings this man stirred in my heart were brand new for me, but I knew what they were. I was falling in love with him.
He looked in my eyes, holding my gaze while we stood on my porch. His smile slowly spread across his face, and he leaned in and kissed me lovingly. “I sure hope you’re not seeing anybody else, Mel. Because I know I’m not.”
“I’m not, Will. I only want to date you,” I replied seriously. I kissed him again, wrapping my arms around him. This kiss was sweet, lovely, and lasting. The arousal was still there, but the love was blooming as well.
Will pulled back and slipped my keys out of my hand so he could lock my door. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Me too, except for this whole meeting-your-friends thing you’re springing on me,” I replied as I grabbed his hand so we could walk to the car together. “Where are we going?”
“Squirrel’s. Certainly you’ve been there.”
Squirrel’s was a bar in Brayman where all the locals hung out. The place was also a restaurant, and when we had teacher workdays, several of us would eat lunch there. On Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, the owners invited bands to come play, mostly local groups. Although I’d been invited by some of the teachers who lived in Brayman, I had never gone at night.
“Um, I’ve gone for lunch but never at night. Drinking in front of the parents of my students is kind of awkward,” I told him with a little shrug.
“You drink in front of me,” he teased, poking my side.
“You’ve also seen me naked. None of my other parents have,” I reminded him as he opened the truck door for me.
“That you know of,” he said with a grin.
“Whatever.”
As he climbed into the driver’s side, he asked, “Is it okay if we go there? If you’re uncomfortable, we can go elsewhere.”
“None of my students work there?”
“Well, I can’t promise that, but you’re an adult. As long as you don’t get wasted and fall over a table or flash the audience, I think you’ll be okay.”
I smiled at him. “Ah, college.”
***
Squirrel’s looked like any bar you might find in a small town. The exterior was wooden with a tin roof. Rather than the typical door, the place was equipped with two garage doors open during business hours when the weather was nice for patrons to walk through. When it was too hot or too cold, the doors were closed and a regular door at the end of the building was used. Inside, the wooden bar took up the entire center of the place, and tables were situated all the way around. The floors were scarred from years of use but as clean as any restaurant. The small stage was at the back of the bar, with a dance floor the size of my bedroom immediately in front of it.
My stomach jolted when we walked through the doors. Every eye turned to the door, and several people called out greetings to Will. A couple people recognized me and smiled, but I knew none of them well. A few heads tilted together, and I knew they were talking about the fact that Will and I were here together.
I looked at him, and he smiled at me. “Yes, they’re probably talking about us, but don’t worry about it.”
My lips thinned at his nonchalant response. “What is there to talk about? We’re both adults, both single.”
“Ah, yes, but we’re in a small town. They have to find a story in everything,” Will reminded me as we found an unoccupied table. “They’ll lose interest quickly. There’s not enough drama in our relationship.”
I hummed in non-agreement. “Where are your friends?”
Will looked around and lifted a hand, and two men headed in our direction. Will rose, smiling, and shook hands with both. I stood as well, unsure. “Guys, this is Mel Ulrich. She’s a teacher at the high school.”
“And your new girlfriend, huh?” one of the men asked, smiling at me, his dimples drawing my eyes.
“Mel, this asshole here is Clint Cappers.” He gestured to the other man. “And this handsome devil is Matt Paulson.”
I shook hands with both men. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Same. We’ll let you enjoy your meal before the music starts,” Clint said, his grin still in place.
“Hope you’ll stick around for a while, Mel. We’d like to get to know the gal who got this guy out of his house,” Matt said.
“It was hard to do, but I have my ways,” I replied with a wink and a smile. The men laughed and slapped Will on the back before returning to their own tables. I noticed both sat down with women. “Am I going to meet their wives?”
Will glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “I didn’t know they were here. I’ll introduce you later.”
I nodded, frowning. As little as I knew about living in a small town, since I was from Lubbock, I did know one thing—the women could be vicious. I glanced at them again, catching the eye of Matt’s wife, who smiled and waved at me. I returned the gesture, hoping that meant positive feelings from at least one of them.
After we’d been served our incredibly tasty dinner, the duo on the stage began to play. Will took my hand and smiled, and we listened to their music. They played some originals, which were good, and they played some covers, which I sang along to if I knew the words. At one point, Will leaned over and promised we’d go to karaoke again, and I laughed, thinking a repeat of our first meeting would be neat.
When the two began playing The Chair, by George Strait, I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor, where several other couples were already two-stepping. “This is my favorite George song. I always dance to it if I have a partner.”
He smiled down at me as he pulled me into his arms in a perfect two-step rhythm. “I’ll dance every dance with you if you’ll let me.” In my ear, for only me to hear, he began singing the words in a lovely baritone.
My heart swooned, which was corny but true. The man had a tremendous voice, could dance like a country Gene Kelly and, if my instincts were on, was falling in love with me as fast as I was falling in love with him. I looked up at him, our eyes met, and I knew I was right. The love was there, in his eyes, and I hoped he could see it shining out of mine.
I giggled. “I feel like we’re i
n a country song.”
“Why’s that?”
I shook my head, giggling again. “Because of my thoughts, which, for now, are my secret.”
Will’s knowing smile shone off his face. “I bet we’re having similar thoughts, Mel.” He leaned down and kissed me, our feet moving automatically to the rhythm of my favorite song. This kiss matched the sweetness of the one we’d shared earlier, and my heart dropped into the place it was supposed to be—with him.
A chorus of whoops and yells sounded behind us, and we broke apart. His friends and a few others I hadn’t met yet were cheering us on. My face reddened, but Will threw up his arm and yelled, “You like that? Watch this!” He put one arm at my waist behind my back and dipped me over, eliciting a squeal from me. He planted a theatrical kiss on my mouth, with the loud smacking noise and everything, before setting me on my feet again.
