Am I really thinking about that?
With my student mere feet in front of me?
I scribbled my name on the line, trying to shut down my overactive brain. Abbie repeated her thanks and how she wouldn’t disappoint me.
“Okay, enough. Go grab a seat. We have a fascinating talk on why people get married. Procreation versus companionship. I have my opinions, of course. I’m sure you do too.”
“Both, of course.” She copied my emphatic words.
A long moan and an even longer sigh escaped my mouth as I lowered my feet into the pedicure tub, Kindle resting precariously on my lap, the chair vibrating against my back.
“Heaven, right? Don’t I know it.” Mary’s voice rang in my ears.
Turning to the left, I found my friend slipping into the vibrating pedi chair next to me, a devilish smirk across her ruby-red lips. “Imagine my shock and surprise seeing you sneak in here without telling me. We always go for pedis together. Usually because I’m the one dragging you like we’re going to the dentist. Are you cheating on me, Claire?”
“Never.”
“Liar.”
I slipped my Kindle into my bag, knowing there would be zero chance of reading, tied my hair back into a messy knot at the nape of my neck, and prepped for a talking-to from Mary.
“Now, speak.”
The two nail techs in front of us, wearing matching pink hospital-like scrubs, looked up at the same time.
“Sorry.” Mary at least acknowledged her ridiculously rude behavior.
I hoisted my right foot up so Mei could take off my old polish, while Mary ignored every request of her attendant.
“Okay, spill,” she whispered to me.
“I’m going on a night out.”
“You mean a date with neighbor boy toy?”
“If you want me to actually go through with it, that kind of talk isn’t helping. I’m teetering on backing out.”
She leaned back and howled. “Come on, Claire, if we can’t laugh, we’ll pass out from the seriousness. He’s hot and nice. Well, way more than nice. Fine, fine, fine. Aiken, I mean—in case you were confused.”
“He asked me to dinner.”
“When were you going to tell me? What’re you wearing?” She leaned closer. “Did you book a wax? They don’t do a good job here. There’s always a few strays, if you know what I mean, and you do not want that. Go to the place down the street.”
“I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself, Mar. Plus, he’s already seen me totally naked.”
“What?” Water sloshed out of her foot basin at her sudden jerking movement.
“Shhh, it’s not what you think. I fell, and he helped me into the bath.”
“I may be your boss, but I’m also your closest friend. When were you going to tell me this?”
“Because I was afraid of this. You telling me to wax my vagina.” I whispered the last part. “Besides, I shave.”
“It’s not as smooth,” she rebutted.
Leaning close, trying to avoid an audience, I leaned in to speak. “Honestly, I’m terrified of it getting that far, worried that it won’t. I don’t know what I want.”
“I would never steer you wrong. I hated you in the fifth grade because you had boobs. We double-dated for prom, I was in your wedding to David, and I was there when he walked out on you for the floozy—”
“With no boobs, mind you…yeah, yeah, I know.”
She nabbed her phone and started texting someone. I was fairly confident it was the place down the street.
“You’re a woman, and he’s a man. You need a wax. There’s no reason for you to be terrified. It’s going there.”
“I didn’t say that. I said I was terrified of the date.”
“Semantics.” She waved her hand in the air and went back to her phone. “Oh good, they’re writing back.”
“He said the same thing.”
“What? They’re writing back?” Her brow furrowed, and her perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted.
“No. What you said before. I’m a grown woman, and he’s a grown man.”
“Exactly! Which is why it’s perfect…they can take you right when you leave here. Time to blow the dust off the shelves, but first you got to get rid of the hairballs. Know what I mean?”
“I’m taking my Kindle back out.”
Mary only cackled and went on interrupting me. “What color are you getting?”
“What about this nude color?” I held up a bottle of polish.
“Ugh, no, no, no. You need a tiny bit of color. What about this?” She held up a bubblegum-pink shade.
“Too bright and cheery for me.”
“This?” Like a kid in a candy store, she picked up and discarded bottles of polish from the rolling cart between our chairs. Then she held up a chalky-lilac bottle.
“I sort of like that. I’ll do it.”
“Great.” Mary rubbed her hands together in a sinister way I could only interpret as being very bad for me.
A few hours later, I blinked at myself in the mirror, fake eyelashes grazing my lower lids, and shook my head. Who the hell talked me into this?
Mary, of course, when she walked me down the street to the waxing place and started orchestrating services beyond my wildest dreams. I was lucky I escaped with a landing strip and faux eyelashes. If it were up to her, I’d be bald—and I don’t mean on top of my head (but you probably knew that).
Now, I looked like a two-bit hussy in an LBD and heels, with fire-engine-red lips (courtesy of Mary’s personal stash).
I needed to change, but the doorbell rang, and Smitty started barking something fierce.
“Shit,” I mumbled. “Here’s to nothing, Smit.”
Opening the front door, I tried to school my face, but I was damn confident my age, worry, and general inexperience showed in every crinkle and wrinkle.
A loud whistle met my ears as I brought my gaze to meet Aiken’s eyes. Blue greeted my dark. “Hey there, pretty lady. Wow! You look stunning…you ready to relax? Unwind? Have a good time?”
At one word—unwind—I felt my whole face settle and my shoulders relax. How did he do that?
The man had magical words or powers. Or maybe I’d been out of the dating game, or life in general, for too long?
My head nodded while my mouth spewed, “I wasn’t, but now I am.”
“Good. We need to let Smitty do his thing?”
“Um, yeah. It’ll take one sec.”
“No rush, I’ll even do the honors. Come on, boy.” He whistled again, this time to my dog, and my faithful friend fell in line right behind him.
I snatched my clutch and scowled at my stupid fake eyelashes one more time, then waited by the door. In pranced Smitty, followed by Aiken on his back paws.
“Hey.” He pulled me close to him, his front to my middle. “You look so fucking fantastic, you’re making it hard to treat you right, take you to dinner first, Richards.”
Half tempted to say, Then don’t, I pressed my lips to his scruff, smiling to myself that he’d left it behind. I hated a freshly shaven man. His lips met with the top of my head as he inhaled me.
“Come on.” He broke free and guided me to the door.
“Where are we going?”
“One town over, there’s an old Victorian mansion converted to a farm-to-table place. Even this farm boy knows fine dining when I find it.”
With the door to his truck open, he helped me up and ran around the front to the driver’s side. Thankfully, it was enough time for a reassuring breath.
I could’ve used ten more.
Aiken
She was nervous when she opened the door.
Of course, she was.
She’d lost her husband to another woman.
She’d lost her daughter to a senseless tragedy.
She was six years older than the man sitting next to her.
Someone had advised her to sex it up, and while she hadn’t needed to, I admit it was doing things to me. But that wasn�
��t the point of tonight or right now…
I reminded myself of all of this as I turned the key in the ignition.
It was my job to put her at ease, allow her to enjoy, get used to the idea of her and me.
“Another good week back in the classroom? You happy?”
She nodded. “I am—I like it. There’s something peaceful about all those overactive minds jumping to conclusions, some right, most wrong. Once, I was like that. Wheels churning a mile a minute, idealistic, with big plans to save the world, make big discoveries.”
“I bet you were a great mom…shit…that slipped out. I mean, I was thinking it, so yeah, I bet you were the best mom.” I couldn’t help but catch her profile out of my peripheral vision.
Her hands wrestled with each other in her lap. “I loved being a mom. I never quite balanced it right. Some days, I’d get caught up at school, busy with the preschool or a grad student’s research project, but I loved Abby. I wanted it all for her. Career, love, two-point-five kids, and a dog. I prayed she’d be happier than me one day.”
“I’m sorry she was taken from you.”
“Yeah—it wasn’t in the cards, or however they say it. It should probably upset me—teaching, all the young kids—but I like it. The formidable, moldable minds. So, this week was good. Really good.”
“Plus, having me next door.”
This got me a laugh and a three-quarters smile.
“I have to admit, it’s sort of cool to have someone who answers me. Smitty’s fabulous company, but every now and again, you want someone to say something back to you. Even if it’s fuck you.”
This time, I laughed.
We made small talk until the restaurant came into view, where we walked, hands tangled, into the restaurant.
“Two.” I flicked two fingers in the air. I’d called earlier in the week, and they’d said not to worry about a reservation.
“Oh, look at the bar. I love that crown molding around the top. Look at the detail.”
Claire’s whole face turned toward the small alcove. The bar was lined with bottles of every color and size, dark mahogany crown molding running around the perimeter.
The hostess interrupted Claire’s reverie. “We serve a full menu there too.”
“Want to sit there?” I asked.
“I’d love to, if you don’t mind?”
Her lashes touched her face and sprang to life again. This woman was all high-class and fucking gorgeous, every man’s fantasy, lush and round where it mattered, smart, all of it.
I bent and whispered in her ear, “My thigh will take any chance it gets to brush up next to yours.”
“We’ll grab some seats at the bar,” I told the hostess, dismissing her from my time with Claire.
“This is perfect.” Claire’s smile was wide and bright.
“Good.”
“Welcome to The House.” The bartender slid a menu in front of us. “First time?”
Claire nodded. “I’ve lived here for eighteen years and never been. I can’t believe it.”
“Well, there’s nothing quite like the first time. What’s your poison? I make a hell of an old-fashioned. Or would you prefer wine?”
“I’d love something red. A cabernet?”
“Let me get you something to try.”
While he poured Claire a taste, he asked, “And you?”
“Whiskey, neat. Whatever you recommend.”
And get the hell away, buddy.
Claire oohed over the wine, and he poured a full glass. With my whiskey in front of me, I wrapped my arm around the back of Claire’s stool and pulled her in tight.
“I don’t want to rush this. I can’t believe I’m admitting to that, but it’s been a long time since I’ve gone out and relaxed,” she said, tipping her head up to look at me.
“No arguments from me. Cheers.” I clinked my glass to hers.
“So, tell me, farm boy, about life on a farm, growing up, all of it.”
She leaned her cheek into her palm, her slight elbow resting on the bar, face turned up to me. I didn’t know what was turning me on more—her sleeveless black dress or her infectious smile and gratitude.
“It wasn’t as glamorous as your starry eyes may suggest. It was a hard life. My dad always worked hard. He still works hard at it. In the beginning, I think my mom helped. She ran a small storefront where we sold ciders and fresh eggs…that kind of stuff. Did some planting and picking. We mainly deal in chickens and vegetables. Some apples.”
She sipped her wine and listened intently. “I can almost see little Aiken in the chicken coop.”
After a slug of my whiskey, I said, “Stop teasing me. Want a sip?”
“Don’t tempt me. I said I didn’t want to rush this. A few sips of the hard stuff, and I’ll be out cold. Now, tell me, I’m sure you found your fair share of trouble.”
“That I did…but mostly after football games, under the bleachers.” I couldn’t stop from flashing her a wink.
“I bet you did. Keep checking off every rural stereotype, farm boy.”
The bartender found a moment to interrupt. “Another drink? Or maybe some appetizers?”
“You hungry?” I asked Claire.
“Starving, actually.”
I fell hard for the way she didn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t. She oozed confidence.
“What’s good?” I asked the bartender.
“Stuffed mushrooms, the eggplant dip, and the halloumi cheese are all my personal favorites,” he answered. “Name’s Bill, by the way.”
“We’ll take one of each and another round.”
“I’m on it.” Bill turned, leaving me in the company of Claire. I liked it. A lot.
“Tell me about you. What makes you tick?” I turned my attention back to my date.
“That’s wide open. What would you like to know?”
“All of it.” I meant it. I wanted it all. The good, the bad, the ugly, her body.
She leaned back and laughed, exposing her neck. An unnerving desire to run my tongue up its entire length overtook me.
“I’m a trained therapist. We like pointed questions with answers.”
“Well, good thing we’re not rushing, because like I said, I want to hear all of it.”
Bill slipped fresh drinks in front of us, and she took a gulp of her wine.
“Only child, Dad was an accountant until shit happened, Mom was a schoolteacher. Mostly bland and boring childhood in Pittsburgh. Went here for undergrad and back to Pitt for grad school. Mary and I’ve known one another all our lives. She’s been my family.”
“Parents still around?”
“My mom’s in a home. Dementia. My dad passed about six years ago. He had problems, mental stuff, lost his job, was pretty much a burden on my mom, so it was for the best. I forgot to mention I was a later-in-life baby. That’s why there’s only me.”
“Did you ever want a big family?”
Christ, I kept fucking up. “I always dreamed of having brothers and sisters.” I tried to take the focus back, but it didn’t help.
“Yeah, I pictured it. Once, I should say. I did at one point, but it wasn’t meant to be. How about you? You ever think having a big family some day?” Candles flickered on the mantel, lighting her from behind, her face glowing from the wine.
“Yeah, to help on the farm. It’s not easy doing all those chores by yourself.”
“I can imagine. After David left, I loved Abby too much to ever really move on in my love life or have more kids. Now it’s just me.” She looked down at her wineglass, the stem twisting in her fingers.
“Hey, and me.”
“For the moment.”
I took her hand in mine. “For as long as it’s meant to be.”
“Look at you, pretty young thing, giving me sweet nothings.”
“Whatever I have to do to get you to smile like that…”
“Oh God, stop with the lines. I’m smiling, okay?”
“I like the view.” Tipping forwar
d, I grazed her ear with my lips. “I like it very much.” Settling back, I added, “You feel me?”
“You just winked.” It came out with a husky laugh.
“I most certainly did, young lady.”
“I guess, if I’m being honest, I’d just like closure. If I knew why they blew up the stadium or who did it, but it’s all been a big dead-end. Then I could maybe move on.”
My hand reached over and entwined with hers. I knew this wasn’t easy for her.
“If I understood the reasoning, even if it doesn’t make sense why I don’t have my beautiful Abby anymore. You know…they caught two students who set it in motion for a quick buck?”
I nodded and allowed her time to go on.
“But they took their own lives, and it sort of ended. The money never went to their accounts. They were taken like the fools they were. After that, the big guns went back to wherever they came from, leaving the local authorities lost. It was such a neat crime, no leads, no witnesses. All roads led back to the pair who offed themselves.”
“I get it.” I squeezed her hand. “My mom, she up and left, no clues, no contact. I’m here looking for her, chasing ghosts, like you said. You were right. Pathetic, I guess, but I get it.”
“I know I’ve been stuck, stagnant, or whatever you want to call it. Mary’s been after me, but she couldn’t ever quite shake me out of my funk.”
“Leave that to me. Time to dust off the cobwebs…”
“Hey now, I was just about to say how refreshing this was, breaking out. No reason to start talking about my cobwebs.”
“I’m up for the challenge, Richards.” I leaned close, making sure my words were only for her. “I was speaking about parts I’m betting are a little out of use, but magnificent nonetheless.”
“Here you two go.” Saved by Bill and the appetizers.
After that, with good food, another drink, the candles still flickering around us, we moved on to easier conversation.
Claire
I never was a good liar, so it was practically impossible to control my jitters on our way home from dinner. The food had been delicious, the company amazing, and the sexual tension unreal. Not unreal bad, but unreal good.
Off-the-charts amazing.
My heart pounded when Aiken got near. My thighs clenched from his private words meant for me. I felt myself smile when he listened intently to me. He was younger, but his actions were not those of a young man. He was an old soul, trapped in the body of a young Adonis, and I wanted him.
Heart Stronger Page 8
