Ready To Fall

by Daisy Prescott

  My salmon lay in her lap and she absently played with a fin while she talked on the phone.

  I waved to let her know I was here and held up her coffee, before gesturing I’d wait in the hall.

  She waved me over and mouthed she was talking with her parents. I handed her the lukewarm cup and she smiled.

  After a few minutes of reassuring them she was fine and swearing she had someone to take care of her, she hung up.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Sorry the coffee’s probably cold. I had them put it in two cups to insulate it, but I sat out in the lobby for a while.”

  She took a sip and moaned in happiness. “White chocolate mocha. My fave. You remembered.”

  “I did. Is it hot enough? I can find a microwave and try to reheat it or something.”

  “It’s perfect. While the hospital food might be edible, the coffee the nurse brought me earlier tasted like dirt, watered down puddle mud.” She frowned and stuck out her tongue.

  I smiled at her adorable frown. “That was your mom on the phone?”

  “Both of them sharing a receiver. My mother wanted to fly out here and my dad wanted to know where my doctors attended medical school. Typical parental stuff.”

  “Is your mom coming out? You shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I thought I had a neighbor who was going to make sure I was looked after properly.” She smiled at me and sipped her coffee.

  “Are you talking about Dave? Cause I wouldn’t trust him not to peep through your drawers.”

  “No, it’s you.” She gave me a small smile. “If you want the job.”

  “Consider it a done deal. When are they springing you?” I asked from my chair near her bed.

  “Any minute. Dr. Scott said it would be about twenty minutes.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good.”

  My expression told her I didn’t believe her.

  “I’m okay. Stuff hurts today that didn’t hurt yesterday and I’m desperate for a shower. I’ll have to bag my arm because the cast can’t get wet.”

  “I can help if you need it.” The eagerness in my voice surprised me. And her.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I know I don’t. I want to. Plus, I’ve seen you naked already. It won’t be awkward.”

  She held her side when she laughed. “No, not awkward at all.”

  “What?”

  “Honestly?”

  I was completely lost at why it would be awkward. I told her as much.

  “It’s not you seeing me naked that’s awkward. It’s all the other stuff that goes along with the naked.”

  “If you think I’m going to try to have sex with you, I promise I won’t.”

  “Won’t because you don’t want to or won’t because you’re concerned about my injuries?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it instead. Then opened it again when I found the words. “Why would you think I wouldn’t still want to have sex with you?”

  “The whole not talking for almost two weeks thing?”

  Right. That.

  “One thing you should know about men, is even if we’re in a fight or sick or injured, we’ll still want to have sex.”

  Her answer was a roll of her eyes.

  “It’s true. Want me to prove it?” I stroked my bottom lip with my thumb.

  “Oh my god, you’re not serious.” Her voice raised and she flailed her good arm around. “Hello? Hospital!”

  “Think how much fun the adjustable bed could be.”

  She ignored me. “We’re not having sex until we talk.”

  I frowned and shifted, clasping my hands between my knees. “The ‘we have to talk’ talk is always ominous.”

  “Ominous or not, we do need to talk.”

  I exhaled and squared my shoulders. “Okay. We’ll talk. In fact, I have things I want to say, too.”

  Her eyes widened. “You do?”

  “I do. But not here and not until we get you settled.”

  A nurse guiding a wheelchair into the room interrupted us to say Diane could go home. She handed Diane some forms and told us her prescriptions could be picked up in Freeland.

  “Ready to be sprung?” I asked, gesturing to the wheelchair.

  “Ready.” She sat in the wheelchair, cradling her fish, and then smiled up at me.

  I kissed the top of her head before the nurse wheeled her down the hall.

  “You shouldn’t be alone,” I said.

  “I’ll be fine. I swear.” Diane crossed her arms and put on her stubborn face.

  “You can swear about being fine all you want. Doctor’s orders you shouldn’t be alone. I took the day off work, you’re stuck with me.”

  “Hmmph,” she said under her breath.

  “So what do you want to do first? Shower? Eat? Nap?”

  “I need to figure out what to do about the Jeep. I don’t even know where it was towed.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck.

  “You know something about where it is?”

  “I might.” I dragged a knuckle over my mouth.

  “Are you going to tell me?”

  “Are you going to be mad?”

  She huffed. “No promises.”

  “It’s at Steve’s garage.”

  “How’d it get there?” Her eyes were leery.

  “Called him this morning. If anyone can fix it, it’ll be him.”

  “You took over?”

  “I did,” I said without regret. “You misunderstood my words about islanders. We help each other out. Even Traci understands how things work around here.”

  “I thought you said I was a spoiled, naïve, wealthy city girl.” Her words sounded weary and she confirmed the feeling by curling up on the sectional by the windows.

  Had I said all those words? I tried to retrace our conversation on the beach. “You’re twisting my words. I never called you that.”

  “Not all at once, but you spoke those words.”

  I had.

  “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”

  “It might. What are you sorry for, John?”

  What was I sorry for? “It’s a long list. But in this case, I’m sorry for shutting down on you at the beach and ruining our weekend.”

  She stared at me with her sleepy eyes. “Thank you.”

  Her eyes closed and her head sank heavy on the pillow in the corner of the big gray couch. I watched her body slump. The tension she held on the ride back to the house left her shoulders.

  It was May, but the rain chilled the air, leaving the house feeling damp and cold. While she napped I could build a fire. After a quick mental inventory of what food I had at the house I frowned. Other than some cereal, smoked salmon and a freezer full of fish, I had nothing to feed her.

  I covered her with a blanket, and wandered over to the kitchen, doing a quick inventory. Her shelves were about as bare as mine, but she did have boxed macaroni and cheese, which I could manage to cook.

  A fire in the wood stove heated the room while pasta boiled on the stove. I snuck next door to let Babe out and he wandered around in the driftwood on the beach. After a quick phone call to my aunt, I headed back next door.

  On the stove, the pot of water had boiled over, making a mess. Scalding water splashed on my hand on the way to the sink.

  “Shit!” I said loudly, louder than I meant because Diane stirred on the couch and squinted at me.

  I gave her a wave from my spot by the sink. “Hey, sorry.” Steam rose from the pasta when I transferred the pot back to the stove.

  “Isn’t this how we met?” She nodded to the wood stove.

  “How so?”

  “Fire in the wood stove and me finding you randomly standing in the house. Oh, and the cursing.”

  I smiled. “Yeah, it’s kind of like that morning. Without the smoke and the fire alarm.”

  “Far less dramatic.” She stretched and winced.

  “You sore?” I glanced at the clock. “Yo
u can take some pain meds with lunch.”

  “Is that what you’re making?”

  “Yep. The best Kraft has to offer.”

  “John Day, you’ll never stop surprising me.”

  “You didn’t have many options. But I’ve got that covered.”

  She gave me a sidelong glance before getting up from the couch and shuffling over to the counter. “It smells delicious.”

  I shrugged, feeling awkward because I was making her lunch. “It’s only boxed macaroni and cheese. You hungry?”

  “Sure.” She stood on her toes and attempted to reach the bowls in the cabinet, but stopped and took in a sharp breath.

  “Here, let me.” I took down two bowls and handed them to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, but her eyes didn’t meet mine.

  I exhaled long and deep, gathering myself. Getting back to normal with her wasn’t going to be easy, but it would be worth it. That much I knew.

  We ate in silence and then she said she was going to take a shower.

  “I’ll wrap your arm so your cast won’t get wet.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but that’s not going to stop me. Until you tell me to leave, I’m staying. Do you want me to go?” Feeling insecure, I lifted my eyebrows and scratched the back of my neck while I waited for her answer.

  She sighed and smiled at me. “Okay, you can help. We still need to talk, but today I need a shower. And your help.”

  I met her smile with my own. “Done. Plastic bag and some tape?”

  “Junk drawer.”

  After cutting the tape, her left arm was waterproofed as best it would get.

  “I’m going to head upstairs.”

  “Holler if you need me.” I paused and decided to push my luck. “Or want company.”

  “Not that again. Keep it in your pants, Day.” She laughed and shuffled away, shaking her head.

  I chuckled while I tidied up the kitchen. Didn’t take much to rinse out a pot and two bowls. The water turned on upstairs.

  At the sink, I closed my eyes. Images of Diane and I in the shower at my house floated through my mind. Her dark hair almost black with the water, droplets winding their way over her breasts, down the curve of her waist, further dropping into the dark hair below her navel. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see that vision again in person.

  My wet fingers moved across my forehead and scratched along my hairline, and my palms pressed into my eyes. I rubbed my hands in circles over my face a few times and exhaled, trying to stop my mind from sending all the blood to my cock.

  And failed.

  “John?” Diane’s shouted from upstairs. “John?”

  I stepped over to the stairs. “Yeah?”

  “Can you come help?” She sounded desperate.

  I took the stairs two at a time and raced down the hall to the bathroom. “You okay?”

  She sat on the closed toilet lid still wearing her shirt and stretchy black pants. “I’m stuck.” She held up her plastic bag arm and pouted.

  “You want me to undress you?”

  “I do.” She blushed.

  “And this embarrasses you?” I teased. I couldn’t help myself. The panic she hurt herself and the run up the stairs had dissolved my hard-on to half mast. If I didn’t keep things light, my dirty thoughts would be on full display again.

  She nodded and sighed.

  “Didn’t we go over this in the hospital? Seen you naked already. Know where your moles are. Memorized them. Could draw you a map if you want.” I gestured for her to stand up. “Let’s get you in the shower before the hot water runs out.”

  “You memorized my moles?” she asked, standing in front of me.

  “I’ll draw a map while you’re in the shower to prove it.” I smiled down at her. “Pants first.”

  I tucked my thumbs into the waist of her pants. I squatted down and dragged my hands down her legs, removing her pants and underwear both. Her T-shirt came off next. So easily it made me suspicious if she needed my help or not.

  “You couldn’t take off your T-shirt?” I asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders and gazed down at her feet.

  I squinted at her face. Hmmm. “Okay, this stretchy bra thing is going to be more difficult.” I pushed the fabric up from her waist and she raised her arms over her head. “Ready to be naked?”

  “Gah, just do it,” she huffed.

  I smiled, but she didn’t look at me. To get her attention, I traced a circle around a spot on her thigh near her hip. “That’s one. You have another one on your ribs under your right boob.” I tugged the fabric further up her body and traced my finger over the newly exposed mole. “Right there.”

  Her breath hitched.

  One more pull and the bra was over her head, blinding her, but exposing all of her chest to me.

  “This one’s my favorite.” I pushed the boundaries when I brushed the back of one knuckle over the freckle to the left of her nipple.

  She held her breath.

  “Breathe, Diane,” I whispered, then released her from the confines of the fabric. The bra landed on the rug.

  Her cast and good arm covered her chest and she gaped at me. “You’re not playing fair.”

  “Sorry.” I grinned at her. “Now into the shower with you.” I held out my arm for her to grasp when she climbed into the claw-foot tub. I closed the curtain behind her and waited.

  “Um?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you … do you mind …”

  “What? Ask. I’ll do anything.”

  “It’s … I can’t.” I could hear the tears in her voice.

  Opening the shower curtain, I peered at her. She looked as I had imagined downstairs, but vulnerable.

  “What do you need?”

  “I need you. I can’t do anything with this.” She waved the bagged arm around. Her lip trembled.

  “Okay, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I figure we have two options. One, I can get in the shower with you.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “I’ll wear my boxers. Promise.”

  Blinking, she asked, “Second option?”

  “We turn this shower into a bath and I wash your hair for you.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “For you? Anything.”

  “I choose bath.”

  “Done.” I reached for the stopper and switched the water to the faucet. “Do you want to stay in there while it fills?”

  “Yes, I’ll be cold if I get out now.”

  I helped her sit down in the tub and grabbed a washcloth before taking a seat on the closed toilet. “Soap please.”

  She squirted some bath wash on the cloth and I dunked it in the hot water. I moved her hair over her shoulder and swept the warm, soapy washcloth over her back, rubbing in circles as I descended.

  She rested her head on her arms, which were curled around her knees and moaned.

  The sound headed straight to my cock. I shifted and softly moaned. I didn’t think she heard me.

  “Did you moan?” She opened her eyes and stared at me.

  I nodded. Guilty.

  “Are you having perverted thoughts about me while you play nurse?”

  “Definitely.” No use in denying it.

  “Are you hard?”

  My hand stilled on her back.

  “Maybe.”

  She turned her head forward and giggled.

  “Hey, you moaned too.”

  “I did not.”

  “You did. Don’t deny it.”

  “It was more of a sigh.”

  “Sigh. Moan. Let’s agree to disagree.” I smiled as I rinsed the cloth and wiped her back. “Lean back.”

  She rested her head on the edge of the tub and I pulled her hair back. The arm with a cast sat on the edge, while her right arm draped across her breasts.

  “How am I going to clean your front if you are covered up?”

  “I can do it.” She raised her hand to her shoulder and reac
hed for the washcloth.

  I moved it out of reach. “No fun in that. Let me make you feel good.”

  “John—”

  “I’m not talking about sex. Let me do this for you.”

  “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?” Her head lolled to the left and she observed me.

  “Nope. Not until you ask me to leave.” I smiled.

  She sighed. “Okay.” Her arm created a small splash when it sank under the water by her side.

  I soaped up again and gently swept my cloth covered hand down her torso and over her shoulders. Her eyes stayed closed and a small smile formed on her lips. She looked peaceful and incredibly beautiful.

  I successfully washed and conditioned her hair without mauling her despite the pain of my erection pressing into my jeans. However, this wasn’t about me. Not even a little bit.

  Diane stood on the mat while I dried her off. Occasionally, I added something new to my map of her body. I didn’t tell her my new favorite freckle was located between the dimples above her ass. I’d remind her of that one with my tongue. It was good to have goals.

  MY AUNT ARRIVED in the evening with enough food to feed the entire beach. Casseroles were put into the freezer, a crockpot full of chili heated on the counter, and the fridge was stocked with … well, everything. A chocolate sheet cake rested on the island, a small corner of frosting missing and my hand stung from where Helen swatted me with the back of her wooden spoon.

  Diane burst into tears when she saw everything Helen brought. She cried harder when my aunt hugged her and told her it would be okay.

  “You’re never alone when you live here,” Helen reminded her.

  I stood at the counter and watched them hug and talk over on the couch. The frosting tempted me, but I rubbed my hand and bided my time. All the female emotions made me uncomfortable. I excused myself to run over to my house for a bit.

  When I returned with what I needed to spend the night, Helen excused herself with a knowing look at my arms full of clothes. She double-checked Diane had her number and then kissed my cheek on her way out the door.

  “What’s all that stuff?” Diane asked, blowing her nose again from all the crying.

  “Staying the night. In case you need anything.”

  “You don’t—”

  I interrupted her, “I know I don’t have to, but I’m staying.”