by Jewel E. Ann
“No.”
“Oli!”
“I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you, because I love you.” He squeezes my leg. “I wasn’t looking for a roommate.”
I entwine my fingers with his. “I’m not going to move in and mooch off you. I want to contribute.”
“You can pay me back when you conquer empires after you graduate.”
“I’m not living with you for free.”
He smirks, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m sure I can think of something you could do to earn your keep.”
“Don’t say sex. That would make me feel like a prostitute.”
“Mmm, well we wouldn’t want that. Maybe you could massage my aching muscles every night after I get done with my long labor-intensive work days. Naked, of course.”
I laugh. “And that’s not going to lead to sex?”
“I’ve never had sex with my massage therapists.”
“Good to know, but how many of them have been naked while massaging you?”
His lips twist to the side. “Good point.”
“Besides, I probably wouldn’t be that good at it. I’ve never had a massage, so I don’t have much to go on.”
“You’ve never had a massage? Ever?” His brow furrows.
I shrug. “Nope. I don’t think a lot of teenagers get massages and then the …”
“The scars.” He sighs.
“Yes, the scars. It’s no big deal. I doubt either one of my parents have ever had a massage.”
“Then that’s another thing you should add to your to-do list after you accumulate your billions.”
“You do realize it’s not about the money.”
“No?”
I roll my eyes. “Of course not. It’s about making a difference in the lives of people like my parents. People who work for me will not work more than thirty hours a week. They will have generous pay, health and retirement benefits, and childcare. Then of course there will be fitness centers, healthy lunch options on site, sleeping pods to increase productivity, and who knows … maybe even chair massages. People will love working for me and as a result their enthusiasm and quality work will make my companies the best in the world.”
Oliver’s grin is enormous.
“What are you smiling at?”
“You. Just when I think you can’t amaze me anymore, you do. I love listening to you talk about your future like that. You’re so full of spirit and I have no doubt you will achieve everything you set out to do, a hundredfold.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
He winks at me.
“What about you? Are you going to retire co-owner of the Handy Hunk?”
“I’m not an owner, just a meager employee. Eventually, I will leave this glamorous job and move on.”
“Practicing law?”
He lifts his shoulders. “Maybe.”
“Hmm, I haven’t seen you in a suit, but I’ll miss those leather work boots.”
He chuckles. “The boots? You like my boots.”
I nod, digging my teeth into my lower lip. “You know how some men are about women in heels … nothing but heels? Well, that’s your boots for me. I fantasize about you in nothing but those work boots.”
He pulls into his parents’ driveway. “The boots, huh?” He grins.
“Yep, just the boots.”
“Might get the sheets dirty.”
I blush. “We’re not in bed … at least not in my fantasy.”
His eyebrows pull up. “We’re not?”
I shake my head. “We’re in the back loading area of The Green Pot. I’m in a sundress with flip-flops, no panties, and you fuck me up against your brother’s work truck … wearing only your work boots.”
Oliver swallows—hard while adjusting himself. “Damn, Vivian. I’m going to walk into my parents’ house with a boner.”
“Sorry, I’ll meet you inside.”
“Wait! You’re leaving me?”
I nod and open the door. “Giving you some privacy to take care of things.”
“Just give me a minute. It will go away on its own.”
“I doubt that.”
“Why do you say—”
I stand with my rear to the door and lift the back side of my dress. “Because I’m not wearing any panties tonight.”
“Shit! What the hell—”
I close the door and giggle all the way to the house.
“Vivian!” Jackie hugs me.
“Jackie, nice to see you again.”
“Where’s Oliver?”
“Uh … he’s still in the car. He had to um … handle something before coming inside.”
“Oh, I hope everything’s okay.”
I grin. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Well then, head out back. Hugh and Chance are out there.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
“Not unless you want to chop veggies for the salad.”
“I’d love to.”
Jackie leads me to the kitchen and points to a strainer with carrots, peppers, and tomatoes. “A knife is in the top drawer and the cutting board is on the island.” She slips on her floral apron and mixes something in a baking dish.
“What are you making?”
“Strawberry-rhubarb cobbler.”
“Yum. I almost had a taste of it shortly after I met Oliver.”
Jackie glances at me. “Almost?”
“Yeah, I hadn’t had dinner and he offered me the leftovers you sent home with him, except the cobbler. He ate that in front of me, but let me lick the bowl.”
“What? Where were his manners?”
“If you’re going to tell the story without me, then don’t leave out the important details,” Oliver says, walking up behind me. “I offered her the last bite but she said no then practically gnawed my hand off after I stuck the spoon in my mouth.”
I elbow him in the stomach. “I did not gnaw your hand off.”
Jackie laughs and when I look up I see a sparkle in her eyes as she watches us and our playful banter. Oliver wraps his arms around me and nuzzles my neck as I continue to chop the veggies.
“Did you get everything handled in the car?” Jackie asks.
Oliver tenses his hold on me. “What?”
“Vivian said you had to handle something.”
“She did, did she?” He pinches my sides eliciting a jump. “Yes, I handled it.”
I bite my lips together fighting the grin that’s dying to take over my face.
“Think you’re pretty funny, huh? Just wait until I handle you later,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ll be out back,” he says to us both.
“Okay, sweetheart.” Jackie winks at him.
We both watch him walk out back. “You’re good for him.” Jackie puts the cobbler in the oven.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. When he moved back to Boston I was worried about him. The boy I once knew who was full of life, always cracking jokes, and driven to be a successful lawyer seemed to have vanished. He’s coming back. I can see it a little more every day and I know it’s because of you.”
I blush. Oliver’s been the one who has given me a life over the past month. I’m not sure I’ve done much for him, so Jackie’s words touch something deep inside my heart and at the same time I feel sad for Oliver. “I know something significant happened while he was in Portland. That much of the puzzle has been pretty easy to put together. I haven’t asked him about any of it and I don’t plan to. I want him to tell me if and when he’s ready. However, I know when it’s on his mind. I see a different side of him, it’s a mix of anger, insecurity, and … I don’t know, maybe grief?”
Jackie nods but doesn’t respond. She just looks at me and her conflict is visible in the wrinkling of her forehead and the small creases along the corners of her eyes.
“Anyway, he asked me to move in with him, so that’s a good sign, right?”
The conflict on her face explodes into all out sh
ock. “He did?”
I nod and grimace. “It’s too late now, but maybe I should have let him tell you.”
Jackie shakes her head or maybe she’s trying to bring herself out of shock. “No, you’re fine. I won’t say anything until he brings it up.” She smiles but it’s forced and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Here, everything’s chopped. I’m going to use the bathroom before dinner. Do you need any more help?”
“Thank you, I think everything else is good.”
*
Oliver
“Where’s Vivian?”
She’s in the bathroom, but she’s been in there for a while. Maybe you should check on her,” my mom says while walking past me, carrying out plates and silverware.
“Yeah, I will.”
I stop at the door and listen, but I can’t hear anything. “Vivian?” I knock.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay in there?”
“Yes. I’ll be right out.”
“Are you feeling sick or something?”
“No.”
“Female issues?”
The door swings open. “No, I’m not having female issues, or the shits, or anything like that.”
“Are you wishing you wore underwear?”
She rolls her eyes. “No!”
Damn! Why did I go there again? I’m already hard again.
She sighs. “I told your mom you asked me to move in. Then I thought that wasn’t really my news to share with her. Are you mad?”
Men suffer from both types of ADD—Attention Deficit Disorder and Acute Dick Dementia. The latter being the inability to remember anything that’s said around us for at least five minutes after a sexual thought enters our brain, and if a new thought creeps in within that five minutes the clock starts over.
“Oliver? Did you hear me?”
“What? Yes … no. You have to start wearing underwear, every day. Okay?” I adjust myself and her eyes follow my movement.
“What about your mom?”
“I’m quite certain she wears them. I don’t think she’s the type—”
“Oli! I’m talking about her knowing that I’m moving in with you.”
“Oh.” I pull her into my chest and kiss the top of her head. “I was going to tell everyone at dinner anyway, so it’s no big deal. Why? What did my mom say?”
“Nothing really, but she looked shocked. I mean, before that she said I was good for you, but then I told her that you asked me to move in and her whole demeanor changed.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
Vivian looks up at me. “Are you? It felt spur of the moment and we haven’t known each other that long. I’d understand if you wanted to change your mind.”
Hell yes I want to change my mind. Who wouldn’t after a temporary lapse of sanity? The practical part of my brain wants to tell her to run and never look back.
“I’m not going to change my mind.” I kiss her and the irrational part of me that asked her to move in returns and triggers my ADD response.
“We’d better go,” she mumbles against my lips. “They’re waiting for us.”
“Let them wait.” I suck her tongue and grab her breast with one hand while my other lifts her dress in the front.
“Oli, stop.”
I slip my finger into her slick channel. “Are you sure?”
Her head falls against my chest while her hands grip my shoulders. “Yes … I mean no. I mean … oh … God.”
“Is that a yes?”
“No … yes … oh … God.” Her fingernails claim the top layers of my skin even through my shirt.
I add a second finger and rub her little nub with my thumb. It’s sadistic of me, both to her and myself, but I can’t stop.
“You two coming?” Chance yells from the back door.
“Oh God!” Vivian yells as I pinch her nipple through her dress and tug on it—hard. Releasing it, I cup my hand over her mouth.
“What’s that?” Chance’s voice echoes.
“In a minute,” I yell back. “Are you close?” I whisper in her ear.
She fists my shirt and swallows while nodding her head, eyelids heavy.
“Good. I’ll meet you at the dinner table.” I pull out my fingers, kiss her cheek, then walk away.
“Oliver!” she grits between her teeth, but I don’t look back.
Payback’s a bitch.
*
Chance is waiting for me at the deck door. “I think you should ask Vivian to give the blessing before dinner,” he says with a hushed voice.
“What?”
He rests his arm over my shoulders as we walk toward the table. “She just seems pretty religious.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I heard her calling to our Lord.”
I shove him away. “Are you drunk?”
“Not yet, but oh … God I could be.” His voice raises a couple of octaves.
I glare at him. “Not one word to her. You don’t need to embarrass her.”
He holds up his hands and shakes his head. “Oh … God, no that’s your job.”
“What are you boys talking about?” Mom sits down at the table next to Dad.
“Nothing.”
“Is Vivian coming?”
Chance chuckles and snorts like a perverted teenager.
“Yes she’s com—on her way.” I shake my head at Chance.
“There she is,” Dad says.
She smiles at my parents and even gives Chance an endearing look. Me? I get nothing, not one glance. Standing, I pull out her chair. “Are you mad?” I whisper in her ear.
“I don’t get mad, I get even,” she says between gritted teeth.
If we didn’t have an audience I would argue that what I did was getting even with her and that now we are in fact, even. End. Done. Final.
“How was Cape Cod? Thought you weren’t coming back until Sunday.” Chance knows all my buttons to push tonight.
“Vivian wasn’t feeling well. I think she’s still struggling with it tonight—shit!” I slap my hand against the table causing the glasses and silverware to rattle.
“Oliver, what are you doing?” My mom gives me a stern glare.
“Actually,” Vivian interrupts with a fake grin while clenching my junk so tight under the table I doubt it’s still in one piece, “Oli has trouble, well … I’m just going to say it since you’re his family and I know this is a nonjudgmental, safe environment. He can’t sustain an erection,” she whispers, “when there are other people in the house. So our romantic getaway wasn’t feeling so romantic. That’s why we came home early. I think he gets nervous or something. What do you think, Dr. Konrad?”
She did NOT just tell my family that I have ED, did she? My dad looks at me and I clench my teeth while prying her death grip off my crotch.
My dad grins and I’m not sure if Chance is even breathing he’s laughing so hard. “Maybe you should come in for a physical, Son. ED can be a symptom of a more serious condition.”
“Vivian’s not wearing underwear.” The words are out and I can’t take them back.
Her eyes go wide as she gasps. Then they shrink into a menacing scowl. “Oli cut his head after he tripped while chasing me around his place naked because he was trying to spank me.”
I throw in the towel and kiss her with my hands cradling her face. It’s passionate and demanding and I don’t stop until I feel her whole body surrender. The roar of laughter around us is accented with a nice round of applause.
Releasing her lips, I stare into her hypnotic green irises while still cradling her face as if we’re in our own little bubble. “Vivian agreed to move in with me,” I say with a soft voice.
She smiles and nods.
We both turn and I’m not sure if the watery eyes gazing at us are from all the laughter or something else; but in this moment, for the first time in over three years, I don’t see it: pity.
“Man! I can’t believe you stole my girl.” Chance draws the at
tention away from us. More laughter fills the balmy summer evening air.
“You’re still my backup.” Vivian blows him a kiss.
“Well, I’m happy for you both.” My dad raises his glass. “To Oliver and Vivian, may you never stop finding the humor in life.”
My mom holds up her glass with one hand and wipes a few tears with her other. I know they are happy tears mixed with a few sad ones too. As much as she wants me to move on, I imagine she fears my past is unresolved and could destroy what I have with Vivian. Yet another self-diagnosis. It must be genetic.
“Will we see you two next weekend or do you have other plans for your birthday?” Mom asks.
Vivian looks at me with raised eyebrows. “When’s your birthday?”
I shrug. “Friday, but it’s not a big deal.”
“Hmm.” She puckers her sexy lips to the side. God, I wish I could read her mind. “Well, you’re mine Friday but we’ll be here for dinner next Saturday.”
My mom beams. She’s obviously pleased as Vivian sends an excited smile in her direction. “Perfect. I’ll have all your favorites.”
In what has become Saturday night tradition, we make our way to the chairs around the fire pit and crack open a few more bottles of beer and refill the wine glasses. I could stay here all night watching Vivian chat and laugh with my family like she’s known them her whole life. There’s such an undeniable feeling that she belongs here with me, with all of us. What doesn’t make sense is the soul-crushing detour I took to get to her.
“I need to grab something out of my purse.” She bends over and kisses the corner of my mouth then goes inside.
“She’s amazing.” My mom nods her head.
“She is.” I take a swig of my beer.
“You need to tell—”
“I know.” I try to control the sharp edge to my voice. She’s just looking out for me, but I’m in too good of a mood to think about shit that doesn’t matter tonight. My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my pocket.
Vivian: I’m having an insatiable Boston Kreme craving!
Me: We’re leaving.
She walks out the backdoor, slipping her phone back into her purse.
I stand. “Thanks for yet another great dinner, Mom.”
“Yes, it was wonderful.” Vivian bends down and gives both of my parents each a hug.
Chance stands and pats me on the back. “You two heading home to say your prayers goodnight?” he whispers in my ear.
