by Amy Johnson
“Where is your stethoscope?” she demanded. He looked puzzled.
“It’s uh at my office. I usually leave it there after my shift.”
She narrowed her eyes and said, “Well I had plans for that thing. You are going to lose some serious points later for not bringing it.” She blew her bangs out of her face and threw her hands in the air. “I can’t believe it, a doctor who doesn’t even bring his tools.”
While Dr. Ross was standing there perplexed Josie began to explain. “It’s like this Doc, if you work in construction, then you would bring your tool belt and hard hat, cops bring handcuffs and batons, firemen bring helmets and their hoses. See how it works? I need variety, that’s why I don’t date bankers or stock brokers. What are they going to bring, laptops and mechanical pencils?” She paused and thought for a moment, as Stacy located the bottle of Tequila. “I did date a zoo keeper once and…”
Stacy took a swig of the Tequila, shook her head and went back to the kitchen to find a straw. Josie could drive even the most sensible of people to alcoholism.
While Josie was babbling on about God knows with the ever attentive Dr. Ross at her side Megan had stepped outside to assemble more boxes. Ted had a lot of stuff, more than she’d realized, and that wasn’t counting what was in the basement. She assembled a box and flipped it upside down to reinforce it with duct tape just as Mrs. Everett stepped outside and turned on her porch light. Megan peeled a long strip of the tape off the roll and realized she hadn’t brought anything to cut it with. If she went back inside to get scissors Mrs. Everett would probably follow her in and then drop dead from a heart attack at the sight of a the six foot drag queen, or the couple who were probably playing doctor-literally- in her living room. If she stayed outside she’d have to talk to the nosy old woman who would undoubtedly make a bee-line for the phone to spread the latest gossip. Gritting her teeth, she raised the tape to her mouth and began gnawing at the spot that needed to be cut. Now she had a reason not to talk to Mrs. Everett, because her mother always told her it’s not polite to talk with a mouth full. She gave Mrs. Everett a quick wave with her free hand and went back to her task when she heard a familiar voice behind her. “Need some help?” Jack asked, coming up the sidewalk, pulling something metal from his pocket. Megan felt her stomach flip flop as every muscle in her body stood at full sexual attention. Megan nodded and Jack opened his pocket knife and snipped the tape for her just as Mrs. Everett made her way to the fence. Megan rolled her eyes and made a silent promise to herself to move far, far away as soon as she could. Megan assembled another box ignoring the woman, now standing less than fifteen feet away gawking at her. Jack had taken the role of head tape snipper while standing there looking sexy as hell.
“Megan?” The nosy old bat called out. Megan gave another quick wave.
“Megan!”
This time her voice was almost a yell and Megan flat ignored her while Jack watched humorlessly. “Town gossip,” Megan explained. Jack snipped another piece of tape then cocked his head towards the old woman who was now coming around the fence to Megan’s yard. “Shit!” Megan muttered and Jack smiled.
In the darkness of night with only the porch light casting interesting slashes of light across Megan’s face Jack realized he was holding his breath. The sight of her framed by the clear night sky and the twinkling stars had stolen that breath straight out of his lungs and he wondered what she’d do if he kissed her right then. He never should have come over because now he didn’t want to leave until he answered that question.
“Megan! Did you hear me calling you?” Mrs. Everett asked.
“Yes, I did, Mrs. Everett, but I’m kind of busy. No time to talk.” Megan concentrated on assembling the next box, not making eye contact with the woman.
“Well ignoring your neighbors is rude, Megan.” Her eyes landed on Jack accusingly. “Are you having a yard sale?”
“No.”
“Spring cleaning?”
“No.”
“Don’t tell me you’re moving.”
“Nope.” Jack stretched out a strip of tape and ran it across the bottom, touching Megan’s hand in the process. Her nerves jolted, her hand on fire.
“Well?” Mrs. Everett asked, and Megan met her gaze with frustration. “You going to tell me what you’re doing then?”
“I’m assembling these boxes,” Megan snapped as Jack brushed his hips against her, trying to get a better position on the box he was reinforcing. She closed her eyes as she felt the heat spread throughout her body and she hoped Jack hadn’t noticed.
He had. Even in the darkness he was completely aware of her reaction to his touch so he did it again just as Mrs. Everett took a step closer.
“Well I can see that you’re assembling boxes, Megan. My ears may be going, but my eyes still work.” Megan considered duct taping the woman’s mouth shut. “My question was what are the boxes for?” Megan gave up. Everyone would know soon enough.
“Ted’s stuff. He’s moving out.” The old bat didn’t look shocked enough so Megan added, “Actually I’m kicking him out. He’s in the hospital shitting marbles and when he gets out he and his twelve year old girlfriend are going to live in a U-Haul with the homeless people under the bridge.” Mrs. Everett looked absolutely mortified and Megan smiled. Jack seemed to enjoy it too. Although Megan couldn’t see his face she could see his shoulders shaking from laughter. For once the old bat didn’t have anything to say so Megan said, “You better be running along now, Mrs. Everett. I’m sure you have plenty of calls to make and lies to tell. Make sure you get the story straight, and don’t forget to call my mother.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mrs. Everett said, her chin tilted high, her posture ramrod straight. Jack had moved and was standing directly behind Megan, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“What, are you resigning your role as Gossip Queen? Crowning someone else?”
“I do not gossip,” she growled, “I was just being neighborly. And you are being extremely rude.” Megan shrugged and the old woman continued, “You used to be such a nice girl, Megan. I don’t know what happened to you. Why, I’ve heard all kinds of things about you lately and I found it all hard to believe…”
“Yeah, well, believe it. Believe it all. I’m tired of being a good girl. As a matter of fact I feel like being really naughty. Maybe even naughty enough to spray a nosy old bat with the water hose for not leaving me the hell alone and minding her own business.” Mrs. Everett’s hands were hanging at her sides fisted, her lips pursed.
“That’s it, Megan, I’m calling the prayer team…”
“Good. I’ll give you some good gossip to forward to them.” She turned to face Jack and stood on tip toes to plant a sloppy kiss on his lips. Once he got passed the shock he responded by encircling her waist with his arms, his hands resting loosely on her hips.
She’d intended the kiss to be short and quick, basically just for shock value. But Jack opened his mouth and deepened the kiss and Megan found herself responding back. His tongue raked across her teeth, then worked its way expertly, gently around her tongue and for a moment she saw stars. He leaned into her, their pelvises touching, and she kissed him like he was the first drop of water after a seven year drought. Then she realized that that wasn’t far from the truth. After allowing herself to enjoy the ecstasy for only a moment she broke the kiss. Jack showed his disappointment by seductively biting her on her bottom lip.
The look on Mrs. Everett’s face was priceless, a delicious blend of shock, horror and disbelief.
“Who is that man and why is he kissing you? Oh, my God! I’m calling your mother. And don’t think I won’t tell Ted.” Megan could’ve cared less.
“You might want to take notes here, Mrs. Everett,” Megan said, realizing Jack’s hands were still wrapped around her from behind. “His name is Jack and I’m using him for sex. Mind blowing, earth shattering, hot, steamy, wild, monkey sex.” Mrs. Everett’s eyes were tiny, litt
le slits as she glared at Megan. “And I’d suggest you find yourself a Jack, and do the same. It’s very liberating.” Megan threw her hands out and looked up at the night’s sky. “I feel great. Just like a new woman.” When she looked back down Mrs. Everett was stalking across the yard, no doubt heading inside for a gossip telethon.
After she was gone and her porch light curtly extinguished Megan stood deathly still, Jack’s arms still encasing her, trying to process the consequences of what she’d just done. She’d acted purely on impulse, agitated with Mrs. Everett and everyone else. Everyone knew every little thing she did, and most of the time they added to and embellished their stories until they had something worth telling, and when Megan would defend herself the gossip was considered truth as if it were the Bible. She wanted to lash out and make a statement and she had. Problem was, what kind of statement had she made to Jack?
And where on earth did he learn to kiss like that? Good God, he had magical lips. Lips that could probably perform much more magic on her. If only he wasn’t a criminal. Her image of him behind bars was starting to fade, with lips like that conjugal visits could be a possibility. Then he’d bitten her lip. Just a playful little nibble actually, but she’d never experienced that kind of pleasure from a kiss before and she wondered what else this man knew. If he wasn’t a lowlife she’d be inclined to find out. Plus, Tom had asked her to dinner and he probably knew a few tricks as well and he wasn’t a lowlife.
“Jack,” she whispered and heard a vague “hmm?” from him. “I’m so sorry about that. I got caught up in the moment and that…that woman has made my life a living hell for the last ten years and I just…” She stopped, realizing she was babbling and that his arms still held her. She stepped away and gathered some of the boxes they’d put together. He also picked up two boxes and she had just gestured him inside when Ali came to the porch carrying the phone, “Meg, your mom’s on the phone and she’s…well she’s quoting the Bible and talking about the fires of hell.” Megan took the phone, clicked the off button, and walked in the house with Jack a step behind her. She should be packing her things, she thought. Moving was looking better and better. By the time her mother got a hold of her even Jesus wouldn’t be able to save her.
Jack sat at the kitchen table waiting for Megan. She’d asked him to have a seat, offered him a beer, and told him she’d be right back. As he sat there he thought about her and that kiss. God, he’d waited fourteen years for that kiss and it’d been worth every long, miserable second. Her mouth tasted like heaven and beer. Mostly heaven, though he thought as he remembered the shyness of her tongue as she explored his mouth until her moist lips finally parted and the kiss deepened to the level of hysteria. She drank him in hungrily, passionately, desperately, and as he responded she leaned her body into his and it was all he could do to remain standing. He wanted to throw her down in the grass and take her body beneath his and kiss her thoroughly, starting with those magnificent lips and not stopping until he’d bathed every inch of her body.
He recalled the dreamy look on her face as she broke the kiss and searched his eyes. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, her hair mussed from his hands, her body on fire beneath his arms. But it was her eyes that had given her away. He’d seen that erotic glaze in her crystal blue eyes, their lids half closed. The look that said she’d felt the same thing he had. The unquenchable desire, that connection between them.
The kiss may have been strictly for show, but it stung her too. He knew that not only by that look, but by the way she paused and searched his face and allowed herself to relish in the pleasure before turning to that nosy old woman. Yep, it’d taken him fourteen years to get that kiss and it was better than he ever dreamed it would be. And it also confirmed what he’d always known, that one kiss would never be enough.
Chapter Eleven“So, the reason I asked you over is because I want to offer you a job.” Megan had joined Jack at the kitchen table, sitting directly across from him, her gaze focused on his hands peeling the label of his beer bottle which appeared to still contain most of its contents. Hers on the other hand, was empty.
“Okay,” he said carefully, following her gaze to the bottle.
“As you’ve probably figured out, I’m going to divorce Ted. His belongings are being packed as we speak. Come Monday morning I’m getting an attorney and that’ll be that.”
He nodded, and when she didn’t continue he said, “So what do you want me to do?” She went to the refrigerator and pulled out another beer then took her seat again. Jack twisted the cap of the bottle and placed it front of her.
“Thank you,” she took a long pull from the bottle then continued, “Well, first I want to say that I’m not the person you’ve seen the last couple days.” Finally she met his gaze. “The real Megan is this predictable, boring good girl, who lives a simple little life, and never strays out of the ordinary. That person would never snoop around in buildings at night, or drink whiskey, or kiss strangers on the front lawn, or disrespect old women.” He nodded again and said nothing because he had no idea where she was going with any of this. “See, I’ve lived by this set of rules my entire life; you know, behave, be quiet, do my part for society, make my mother happy. Problem is, I found out that living that way doesn’t make me happy,” she paused for another drink. “So, I’ve decided to do something about it.”
“Divorcing Ted,” he said and she nodded then said, “Yeah, but that’s not all. See, I want revenge. I want to do something so unlike myself, so…crazy, so exciting, so…freeing. Something that says, I’m Megan Malone and this is my moment. Everybody else back off and stay the hell out of my way.”
Jack was unsure where she was going with this but he listened intently and let her speak. “I want to embrace life, so to speak,” she finished, giving him that crooked smile and for the first time since high school that sparkle in her eyes was back. She wanted to take a stand, enjoy life.
He could help her do that, especially if it had to do with getting another of those kisses that made his head spin and his knees go weak. “So how can I help you, Megan?” She looked at his hands again, as her scrubbed clean cheeks took on a pink blush and she smiled weakly.
“Well, see, when I was in high school I was this prim and proper shy girl that no one really noticed-” He couldn’t hide the surprise in his face at the statement. It was so far from the truth. “-and when all of my friends were making out under the bleachers or going to parties I was at home reading or going to Sunday School or doing whatever my mother said the proper girls did. I’d never even had a beer until I was twenty one years old.” She laughed. “My whole life has been a rip. I met Ted, The All American Boy, when I was seventeen and married him at twenty, wearing a white dress because I’d earned it.” He took his first sip of his beer then and tried to hide his surprise. Being a good girl was one thing, but remaining a virgin until she was twenty was... “Anyway, we bought this house and I kept waiting for the fairytale to begin, but now it’s ten years later and I’m still waiting. So I’ve decided the wait is over. I want to have some fun. It’s my turn, wouldn’t you say?” He nodded.
He spread his hands out on the wooden table and asked again, “And how can I help you with this?” He noticed that she was wringing her hands together and keeping her gaze in her lap. She was nervous. She looked like she was still in high school. He wrapped both hands around his beer to keep from touching her, but it took tremendous restraint. He wanted her bad.
“OK,” she said finally, meeting his gaze. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here, like I’m trying to relive high school or anything, but here’s what I want.” She thought about Josie’s black book and how much fun she probably had filling the pages. “I want you to help me locate some of the guys I went to high school with. You know, the ones that all the girls wanted, the ones who had meaningless hot sex in the back seat of their dad’s chargers, then never gave those girls the time of day the next day. The Casanovas I guess you could say.”
Jack had
n’t realized how hard he’d been holding on to that beer. His knuckles were white and the muscles in his forearms were sticking out. He let go of the beer and it spilled all over his lap and it was a good thing but the sudden chill served as a well needed diversion from the anger and pain he felt spread through his chest. She wanted him to help her get laid? She had to be going somewhere else with all of this. He took a deep, steadying breath and tried to think of what to say, but instead he heard, “So you want me to help you get laid?” pop out of his mouth in a deep harsh voice. His words or his tone must have surprised her because she startled and stared at him through wide, blue eyes, acting as if he’d just socked her in the jaw.
“Well…, um I didn’t exactly say it like that. I mean that sounds so…so harsh.”
He tried an apologetic look but failed miserably. “But that is what you want right? You want me to find these guys and say ‘Hey, remember this girl from high school? She wants to get naked and fuck your brains out in the backseat of a Charger. Would you like to make an appointment with her to do the nasty?’” He hadn’t meant to use that sort of language or the angry tone, but dammit he was mad. She flinched at his use of the f-word and shrank back a little in her chair. He regretted it instantly, but there was little he could do about it and for some reason he just wasn’t in an apologetic mood. “I think you’d better take a better look at my job description. I’m a Private Investigator. Not a Pimp.” Her eyes began to water and he kicked himself for making her cry. “And I’m not interested in the job. Have a good night Mrs. Malone.” He stood to leave but she pinned him in place with angry tearful eyes. She was even beautiful when she cried he noted, but she could cry herself a river and he’d just swim right on out the door. And out of her life.
She stood, too, and pointed a shaky finger at his chest. “You say it like I’m a whore. Some two bit floozy on a street corner. Well, I’m not. I just want one night, one amazing night.” Her voice rose and she took a step closer, cornering him against the counter. “After ten years of being a loving, supportive, faithful wife, then being traded in for a younger model with a bigger rack, I think I deserve a little fun. Is one night of meaningless animal sex too damn much to ask for?” He stared at her with an angry incredulous look. She couldn’t be serious. She called a private investigator, to help her find a worthy pity screw. Or revenge screw or whatever she wanted to call it. It was absurd. The whole damn idea was ridiculous.
