Cut Short

by Julia Wolf

  My client left happy, and I flew out the door right behind her, hurrying back to my apartment.

  My work clothes were a little too nice to paint in, so I changed into a red tank top and short overalls. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and used a red bandana as a headband, the ends tied on top of my head. To be cheeky and a little flirty, I wore my blood-red high-top Doc Martens, the exact same ones I had in high school. I didn’t wear them often anymore, but I could never bring myself to throw them out. I thought of Joe describing what I had worn when we first met and wondered if he’d recognize these were the same boots.

  Before I left, I picked up the three potted hydrangeas I hoped Joe would let me plant in his yard and another small gift for his house. The stone house was perfect, of course, but the yard could use some livening up.

  Joe’s house was about a ten-minute walk from my apartment. I made my way slowly uphill, struggling to keep hold of the three plants. I turned off Main Street and crossed a small bridge leading to his house. As I approached, I spotted a shirtless Joe with his back turned to me, a paint roller in his hands.

  I called out from the bottom step, “Hey there, buster!” He whipped around, a giant smile on his face.

  “You are a sight for sore eyes, sweet girl.” He threw down his paint roller and walked toward me, noticing the plants in my arms. “Whatcha got there?”

  “They’re hydrangeas, one of my favorite flowers. I hoped you’d let me plant them in your yard. They have the prettiest flowers, and they’ll bloom all summer.” I was babbling a little because Joe stood right in front of me—beautiful, sweaty, shirtless Joe. I had a strong urge to reach out and trace my name in the sweat glistening on his chest. That would be weird, right?

  He took the plants from me, setting them down at our feet. “Thank you, Rachel, that was really thoughtful of you. I haven’t even begun thinking about the yard yet.”

  I pulled out a little gold box from the front pocket of my overalls and handed it to him.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Another gift?” He lifted the lid and stared wide-eyed at the contents.

  “I understand if you already have one. I’m sure you do. But I told my mom how you liked the glass menorah and she told me she’d made this too, so she sent it to me to give to you and—”

  He looked up, his expression full of wonder, and I stopped talking. “You’re giving me a mezuzah your mom made?” He looked down at the small, colorful glass case that held a traditional blessing written in Hebrew. “It’s beautiful, Rachel. I don’t know what to say. I’ll be honored to hang it up by my front door.”

  I smiled, relief flooding my chest. “I’m really glad you like it.”

  He grazed the side of my face with his knuckles. “I fucking love it. Thank you.”

  My face heated up and I was suddenly overwhelmed, so I looked down at the plants on the ground. “You’re welcome. Do you happen to have a shovel so I can plant them or would you rather I help paint?” Joe stared at me, his eyes moving down my body, stopping right on my feet.

  “Those boots…” He looked mesmerized by my shoes.

  I held my leg up and pointed to my boot, “This old thing?”

  “Are those the same boots?”

  I nodded. He stepped forward, his bare chest so close to mine, I could feel the heat radiating from him.

  “I’m having a strong sense of déjà vu. I really want to do what I should have done the night we met.” His hands rested on my hips and pulled my body toward him so there was no distance, no space between us.

  “What should you have done?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

  He leaned down and brushed his lips over mine, then pulled back to look at me. Our eyes met, and I licked my lips where his had just been. He lowered his head again and gave me another soft, closed-mouth kiss. I sighed into his mouth, and my arms went around his neck. When our lips met the third time, I pulled his full lower lip into my mouth, sucking gently.

  Both of us exhaled, his forehead resting on mine. “Goddamn, sweet girl,” he rasped. I smiled and pulled him down to me, our mouths slowly, languidly exploring. His lips were soft yet firm, and kissing him like this—like we had all the time in the world to explore each other—had to be the most erotic thing I’d ever done. Joe’s hands found their way into the back of my overalls and he pushed up the back of my tank top, touching my bare skin.

  As we kissed and kissed, Joe licked along the seam of my lips and I opened for him. Our tongues met, gently touching and sliding together. Our kisses felt like they were in slow motion, nothing rushed.

  My hands moved from the back of Joe’s neck down to his chest. I ran my palms over his pecs, feeling the muscle underneath his slick skin. Joe pulled me tight against him and there was no mistaking the hardness pressing against my belly.

  Joe’s lips left mine, and he started kissing my jaw and down my neck, nibbling along my collarbone, then back up my neck before pressing his lips to mine again. I opened my mouth and our tongues met once more, moving against each other until neither of us could breathe.

  “Rachel…” he growled, his hands rubbing up and down my back.

  “I guess this means you like me as more than a friend,” I joked.

  “I thought I had made that clear.”

  “I’m new to all this. I need it spelled out for me.”

  He looked directly into my eyes. “Okay then, Rachel, I like you as more than a friend. I want to be around you all the time, I want to look at your gorgeous face, and I want to hold you and kiss you and be as close to you as you’ll let me. I want everything you’re willing to give me, sweet girl.”

  If he hadn’t been holding me, I probably would have swooned right there in his front yard.

  “I want all that too, Joe.” I kissed the center of his chest, then rested my head there.

  “I’m really glad you wore those boots today,” he chuckled.

  “Me too,” I said. “If I’d known wearing them was the key to getting you to kiss me, I would have pulled them out of the closet sooner.” We smiled at each other and slowly moved apart.

  “No, this is the right time. We weren’t ready for this before.”

  I nodded, still flustered, and looked around the yard. “So, paint or shovel?”

  We decided I should plant the flowers while Joe painted, so I walked back and forth through the flower beds, trying to find the perfect spot. While I dug the holes needed for the plants, I looked up at Joe periodically, sometimes catching his eye and smiling, sometimes just admiring the way the muscles in his back moved as he painted.

  The kiss with Joe was hands down the best kiss I’d ever had. The way we fit together, it felt as though our mouths were made to kiss each other. First kisses didn’t always turn out that way for me. Sometimes teeth clanked, noses smashed, there was too much spit, or it was too dry. But Joe and I had kissed as though we had done it a thousand times, like we knew just what the other liked.

  I couldn’t help but wonder why Joe hadn’t acted on his attraction toward me back when we met as teenagers. I chased those thoughts away, though. I’d dwelled on the what-ifs for too damn long. Now it was time to savor this moment, the sweet beginning.

  When I put the last plant in the ground and covered it with soil, I stood up and clapped my gloved hands together to shake off the dirt. “All done!”

  “Awesome, thank you!” he said without looking up from the spot he painted.

  I walked up to the porch. “Can I help paint now?”

  “Yep. Come over here and let’s tackle the railing.” He held out a paintbrush and we got to work. For a while, we stood side by side painting. Then I remembered the movie in the park Frannie had invited me to.

  “So, tonight is the kick-off of movies in the park. It’s my favorite thing to do in the summer. I planned on going. Want to come with me?” I felt shy asking him, even though twenty minutes before we had been lip-locked.

  He smirked. “Are you asking me on a date?”

  I
laughed and shook my head. “I don’t think it can be called a date since I told Frannie I’d join her and Eliza and Laurel. But I would love if you were there too.”

  “Then of course I’ll go with you. I was hoping it was a date though, so I could kiss you at the end of it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, a grin on his face.

  “Okay, then it’s definitely a date!” I nearly shouted, not wanting to turn down a chance to kiss Joe again.

  He bent down and pressed a small kiss to my lips. I leaned in and kissed him again, letting my lips linger against his.

  “Mmmm. This is my new favorite thing to do.” He had one hand holding the back of my head, the other still gripping his paintbrush. He kissed the corner of my mouth, then pushed my head to the side and caught my earlobe between his lips. He gently sucked, then nibbled lightly with his teeth. My knees felt weak, the paintbrush dangling in my hand forgotten. Joe ran his tongue slowly up the rim of my ear and my insides clenched. He kissed my jaw, then moved back to my mouth, pulling my bottom lip between his. He let go, and we kissed one more time before he backed away again.

  I stood in a daze, unable to move or even think. I wanted this man so badly, it verged on painful. Now that I knew what kissing him was like, there was no way I would be able to wait much longer to have sex with him. I needed to feel his skin against mine, the weight of him on top of me, to know what it felt like to have him inside me.

  “You okay over there, Rach?” Joe continued painting nonchalantly, almost as if he hadn’t just kissed me senseless.

  “You’re a really good kisser.” I felt silly as soon as the words left my mouth.

  He laughed. “Thank you. The feeling is mutual.”

  Eventually, I shook myself out of my stupor and got back to work, carefully coating the spindle and rails with white paint.

  “What else do you plan to do to the house?” I asked.

  “The guys are coming Monday to refinish the floors. I’ll probably have to stay with my parents for a few days while they’re working.” He swiped the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “After that, a lot of cosmetic changes I hope I can do myself. I’m definitely going to paint the walls, so I’ll need your help picking colors. I might attempt to tile the first-floor bathroom and laundry room. We’ll see if I can work up the guts to go for it. What do you think?”

  I shrugged my shoulder. “I haven’t actually been inside, so I’m not sure.”

  Joe dropped his brush into the bucket and grabbed my hand. “Come on!” I laughed and let him pull me along.

  Since we couldn’t walk on the wet front porch, he pulled me along with him to the back of the house and we entered through the patio door into the kitchen.

  The large space had clearly been remodeled within the last ten years or so. There were dark Shaker cabinets, granite countertops, and wood floors. My favorite part had to be the expansive rectangular island. I could picture myself rolling out pizza dough there, or maybe even trying to make challah. I also couldn’t help imagining all the dirty things that could happen there. I smirked, running my hand over the smooth surface.

  “This is really nice, Joe. I don’t think you have to do much in here once the floors are done. A little paint and it’ll be perfect.”

  He nodded. “I thought it was good, but I’m not sure I trust my own taste yet, so I’m glad you like it too.”

  He held my hand and led me through the dining room, with its lovely chair rails and crown molding, then onto the spacious living room. I loved the exposed beams in the ceiling so much, they made me woozy with delight.

  “Gorgeous,” I whispered reverently.

  Joe led me upstairs to see the bedrooms. We went into the two smaller rooms first. They both needed a coat of paint and the floors had seen better days, but otherwise, they were in great condition.

  He took me into the master bedroom last, which was much bigger than I thought it would be based on the age of the house.

  “There used to be four bedrooms up here,” Joe told me. “Somewhere along the way, a previous owner knocked down a wall to combine two rooms into a master suite.”

  The bedroom was empty except for a pile of Joe’s things in the corner. “I love this room. I could do the Electric Slide in here.”

  Joe laughed in surprise. “The Electric Slide?”

  “Yeah. It’s a line dance from the nineties—”

  He held up a hand. “You think I don’t know the Electric Slide? Do you know how many Bar Mitzvahs I’ve been to? I am an Electric Slide boss.”

  I grinned, imagining thirteen-year-old Joe at all his friends’ Bar Mitzvahs, slipping and sliding across the floor.

  “I’m sure you were,” I said. I peeked into the master bath and gasped. “Oh my goodness, the bathtub is giant!” The bathroom wasn’t anything fancy, but the soaking tub sat next to a large picture window overlooking the river. I wasn’t even a huge fan of baths, but I was ready to sink into the tub right then and there. “This room would be perfect with a coat of aqua paint, maybe two shades lighter than my living room,” I called out.

  I heard music coming from the bedroom, so I went back to check it out. When I recognized the song, I snorted.

  Joe stood in the middle of the room, holding his phone, the familiar music coming out of its speakers. He held his hand out to me, and asked, “Shall we dance?”

  I laughed and got into position next to him, counting the beats before we both shuffled, slid, and clapped in unison, laughing the entire time.

  When the song ended, we collapsed on the floor next to each other. I held my stomach from laughing so hard. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would be Electric Sliding with Joe in his bedroom—or anywhere, for that matter.

  “You are a man of many talents,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

  “If the lady wants to dance, we dance.”

  I leaned over to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head, so our lips met instead. He ran his hand over the side of my face and pulled me closer. The kiss was as slow and controlled as earlier, neither of us trying to take it further, just enjoying being close and getting to know the feel of each other’s lips.

  We looked at each other as we broke apart, and a strong feeling of sureness washed over me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt Joe was my person. And only that dark part of my brain—where my insecurities and doubts held dance parties at the most inopportune times—asked: he may be your person, but are you his?

  Twenty-Two

  Joe and I made plans to meet later at the park just off Main Street. After we’d pulled ourselves apart, we went back outside and finished painting the porch. With a fresh coat, it looked good as new, and I pictured relaxing there on long summer evenings with Joe. Before I’d left, Joe found a nail, and from inside the house, we’d leaned out and together hung up the mezuzah on the frame of his front door.

  I was a sweaty mess by the time I got back to my apartment, so I headed straight for the shower. I took extra care shaving my legs so they were nice and smooth, just in case Joe happened to put his hands all over me later.

  It was a hot evening, so I wore a bright yellow, flowy linen sundress that stopped mid-calf. I pulled my hair to the side in a loose braid.

  After grabbing a blanket for us to sit on during the movie, I headed out, stopping at the little gourmet grocery store on Main Street to pick up something to share for dinner. To my delight, the store owners had the brilliant idea of preparing pre-filled picnic baskets, so I didn’t even have to make any food decisions. I picked up a bottle of chilled white wine and made my way to the park.

  I saw Frannie first, waving at me from her spot on a large red blanket she was sharing with Laurel and Eliza. Next to them in a camp chair sat Edward. I didn’t see Joe anywhere, so I spread my quilt out next to theirs and sat down.

  “Hey everyone! Edward, long time no see.”

  My friends greeted me, and Edward inclined his head slightly, then looked away. Frannie and I exchanged glances, and she shrugged her shou
lders subtly, as if to say, I have no idea what the hell Edward’s deal is.

  “Joe should be here soon,” I told them.

  “Oh good, I can’t wait to officially meet him!” Eliza said, then quickly glanced at Edward, but he wasn’t paying attention.

  “That guy is a dreamboat,” Laurel said. “I promise not to embarrass you tonight.”

  I laughed and waved her off.

  “I helped him paint a little today and he showed me around the house. You guys, it’s gorgeous! It needs a little work, but it’s so nice. There’s a giant bathtub in the master bathroom that overlooks the river. I’m going to have to trick him into letting me take baths there.” I sighed, thinking about my dream house that was now his actual, real life house. I had been so heartbroken when I saw the sold sign, but now that Joe lived there, it seemed right. Obviously, it would have been more right if it were my house, but if that couldn’t be, then this was almost as good.

  Frannie rolled her eyes. “Girl, there won’t be any tricking involved. You think he’d turn down having you wet and naked in his bathtub?”

  Because the universe was as cruel as it was kind, Joe chose that exact moment to sit down next to me on the blanket.

  “Hey,” he said, then leaned over and kissed me softly on the cheek.

  My face burned so hot, it felt like it would burst into flames at any moment. “Hi, Joe!” I choked out.

  When I regained my composure, I introduced him to Edward.

  Joe saluted him. “Hey, man, good to meet you.”

  Edward actually looked at Joe and smiled. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen him smile in all the years I had known him. “Nice to meet you. About time there was another man at one of these things. I’ve been stuck with these silly girls for years. Way too much estrogen.”

  Joe looked from Edward to me, then back to Edward, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

  Eliza giggled nervously. “Edward’s being funny.”

  “Oh,” Joe deadpanned.

  Laurel snorted and muttered, “At least I’m not the embarrassing one tonight.”