Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  Nicholas nodded and kissed the top of her head before standing up. “Spawn of crazy people, huh? What am I getting myself into with Thanksgiving?”

  Jena grinned as she headed for her room. Nick got a glimpse of a black bra as she pulled the edges of the robe together. “If I told you, you’d run screaming. This is nothing next to the many ways my mom can embarrass me. At least your parents are just evil. That’s a decision, and they can change that. Mine are certifiable.”

  “Agreed,” Travis and Leisa chorused from separate rooms. Jena smiled and shrugged as she shut the door.

  Nicholas turned toward the TV with a sigh, the game providing background noise to his thoughts. Despite the joking, he wasn’t really in the mood for the concert after talking to his mother. Why couldn’t she leave well enough alone? He was just getting used to not hearing from her, and now he wanted to call back just to hear her voice.

  Conor looked around at Nick pointedly. “We leave in ten, cupcake.” He had a thing for punctuality, and Nicholas had no doubt he’d leave without a second thought if Nick didn’t move his ass.

  “Just a fucking minute,” Nicholas grumbled, brushing past Travis with a brief greeting before shutting himself in the bathroom and brushing his teeth at lightning speed. He pulled damp fingers through his hair and gave up.

  Conor shook his head and jingled his keys in his hand as Nick re-entered the living room, jacket in hand. “You can’t be a Parrothead without an island shirt,” he declared.

  Nicholas noticed Conor was wearing a green shirt with the gaudiest purple flowers that he had ever seen, and Sam was barely covered by a red flowered bikini top under her coat. Conor looked at his watch. “You have two minutes before we drive off into the sunset.”

  “Fucker.” Nick dashed back to Jena’s room, kissing her as she exited, and grabbed the closest thing to an island shirt that he owned, throwing it on over a black tee. With a grin, he decided to change into the worn 501s that had provoked Jena’s “Holy Crap” moment a couple of weeks earlier. Shoving his feet into old Vans, he stomped into the living room. “Satisfied?”

  Conor raised an eyebrow when he saw Nick’s shirt. “Plain red?” He snorted in disgust. “I’ll let it pass this time because it does have a small palm tree print on the pocket and we’re late, but that is totally unacceptable.”

  “I think he looks pretty damned good,” Jena said, grinning at Nick from her perch on the arm of Travis’s chair.

  Nick glanced toward her with a smile, but then turned his head for a better look. When he’d rushed past her to change his own clothes, he’d been focused on her face, not what she was wearing. But now that he was noticing…wow.

  Due to the nature of her job and lifestyle, Jena most often wore what was comfortable and sporty, but not that night. That night the worn khakis had been replaced by jeans so formfitting that they looked like they’d been sewn onto her body and a halter-top in a bright green that reflected and amplified the color of her eyes. Her wavy hair, usually pulled into a practical braid, had been coaxed into bedhead curls that framed her face and flowed down her back. She rose, her smile dimming as he continued to stare.

  Conor’s voice was quietly amused. “You’d better take a bat, Nicholas, or she’s not getting out of the concert with you tonight.” He tugged Sam out the door, followed by Travis and Leisa.

  “Well?” Jena finally asked, glancing up at him quickly. Nick could see that she was about two seconds from bolting back into her bedroom and locking the door.

  He stepped close and ran one finger down her neck and over her shoulder while exploring her stomach with the fingertips of the other hand. “I think I’d like to go peel this outfit off of you,” he murmured. “Then I want to justify destruction of this apartment. Three or four times.”

  Leisa stuck her head back in the door. “You’re gonna get yourself all worked up for nothing, because you are going dinner and we are going to this concert. No apartment destruction until much later tonight.” She shook her head. “Who taught you to whisper?”

  Jena laughed and took Nick’s hand, pulling him out to join the others as Sam gave them directions to the Hawaiian-themed restaurant she had chosen.

  After dinner was ordered, conversation lagged. It had been a while since they had all been together, so the table got quiet as they waited for their food. Jena kept tugging at her halter-top and buttoning and unbuttoning her overshirt, searching for something to say. Sam rolled her glass between her palms and looked around the room. The tension at the table was ratcheting higher, and Nicholas looked at Conor, silently begging him to help.

  Conor cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, resting his arm behind Samantha. “It was great of your dad to give you these tickets, babe. What made him think of it?”

  “Early birthday present.” She leaned against Conor’s arm and relaxed slightly, smiling at Jena. “You really impressed my dad, the other day, by the way. He was telling Mom that he fully expected you to freak out when he told you he’d talked to Dr. Cooper about you guys, but you were cool as a cucumber. Conclusion jumping is one of his pet peeves, so good for you.” She raised her glass to Jena, even as Jena’s smile froze.

  Nick’s brain felt like it came to a screeching stop. “Wait—what? My dad?” He turned toward Jena, who was studying her drink intently. “What about my dad?”

  Conor rose and pulled Samantha to her feet. She looked at Jena apologetically, and Jena smiled at her and shook her head. “We’re going to the bar for a minute. Work this out before my damned food gets here,” Conor grumbled, and they walked off.

  “Jena?” Nicholas prompted.

  Travis cleared his throat and scooted his chair back. “Hey, I think I know the guy on the steel drums. Want to meet him, Leis?” She hurriedly pushed back from the table, and then Nick and Jena were alone.

  Nick waited for her answer, trying to keep his temper under control.

  “It wasn’t important, Nick,” Jena finally said quietly. “I met him to discuss work and he mentioned that he’d talked to your dad lately. End of story.”

  “Not end of story!” Nick muttered intensely. “Why did my dad call him, Jena?”

  Jena looked up at him, expression wavering between irritation and anxiety. “I don’t know who called who, and I sure as hell don’t know why! He’s my boss, Nick—I have no right to ask what he talks about in a private conversation! Jesus!” She swallowed the rest of her Cuba Libre in one gulp, grimacing as the rum hit her empty stomach.

  Nick felt a pang of guilt. She was absolutely right, even if not knowing what had been discussed between his father and his father’s friend would drive him crazy all night. Knowing he was in the wrong and acknowledging it seemed to be two different things, though, and he felt his face settle into smooth blankness. “Of course you couldn’t. Sorry I asked,” answered coolly. He picked up his drink and started to raise it.

  Jena grabbed his wrist before the glass hit his lips. “Don’t do that, Nick,” she said urgently. He turned to see her stormy eyes flashing at him. “Don’t shut me out.” Her look became pleading. “I don’t know what to say. I just…” She shook her head slowly and released his wrist before settling back in her chair and staring at the table.

  The hurt Nick glimpsed in her eyes before she pulled away caused heart to constrict, but the hint of resolution beneath got it hammering in his chest. Whatever she was thinking, Nick had the intuition that it wasn’t good for him. He turned her face toward his and dipped his head until she looked into his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Jena,” he said quietly.

  She tried to shake her head, so he released her chin briefly but only so he could cup her face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, kissing her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said again, brushing her cheek with his lips. “I’m sorry.”

  He felt her cheek rise in a smile and breathed a sigh of relief. He rested his forehead against hers and murmured, “I’m an ass.”

  It was his turn to smile when her h
ands came up to bracelet his wrists. “Yes, you are,” she murmured back. Nick laughed.

  Conor cleared his throat loudly and dropped into his chair, picking up his glass and draining it. “Drama over?”

  Jena smiled and nodded as Nick released her face and linked his hand with hers. “Christ, I don’t know how you stand it. Just watching you two exhausts me,” Conor stated, to the general nods of the rest as they settled back into their seats. “And you scared the waiter off. If my food is cold when it gets back here, I’ll kill both of you. With pain.”

  As a general laugh went around the table, Travis leaned over from his seat at Jena’s right and mumbled, “Nothing like a little drama to break the ice.” He flinched as Jena aimed a joking elbow into his side, but Nick was quick enough to catch his mouthed question, You all right? and Jena’s faint nod and squeeze of her roommate’s hand. Nick’s grin widened and he relaxed into his chair, determined to enjoy the night ahead of them.

  The burgers and beer, finally delivered by a wary-looking waiter, disappeared rapidly as they all laughed and joked, the tension between them gone. Travis and Nick teased about their nomadic status, deciding who would go back to which apartment after the concert.

  Stuffing another bite of burger in his mouth, Conor grunted and tried to talk around it. “Isn’t it about time you made all these temporary sleeping arrangements that aren’t turning out to be so temporary, permanent?” He caught a piece of lettuce as it tried to escape, and Nick winced.

  “Nice, Conor.”

  Conor set his burger down and leaned forward. “I’m serious. You’re never home anyway, so why pay rent there?” He looked around the table, not missing the look Leisa and Jena exchanged. “Am I right?”

  Jena bought a second to think by eating a fry slowly. “What would you do, Con? I don’t think any of us can afford an apartment alone, excepting Ms. Moneybags, of course.” She kicked Leisa’s chair and smiled.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Conor said, leaning back in his chair. “I have options.” He winked at Sam, and she laughed and shook her head.

  “Well, it’s something to think about…for some time…in the future,” Leisa said placidly, laughing as Jena kicked her chair again.

  “Sounds good, aside from me not being allowed to answer the phone without checking caller ID first,” Travis observed.

  Leisa glared at him. “Just until I prepare Daddy,” she said. Laughter swept the table.

  “Travis, could you tell your mom you’re living in sin? I hear those conservative Montana Mamas might have a hard time with that,” Jena teased, leaning back in her chair and taking Nick’s hand. He smiled and rubbed her leg with his foot.

  Travis smiled lazily. “I’m a big boy now, Jen. I don’t have to ask permission.”

  Leisa chuckled. “Yeah, because you’d finally set your mama’s mind at ease. Her exact words when you mentioned the possibility last week were, ‘Oh, thank God! I was afraid growing up with me and the four girls might have put a little sugar in your tank.’”

  “What the hell…?” Conor asked, a slow smile starting to spread across his face.

  “Mama Walker thought her little boy might have been batting for the home team, Con.” Jena snickered. “If she’d seen one of your shopping trips, Trav, she would have been sure.”

  Conor laughed loudly, high-fiving Jena. He raised an eyebrow at Nick.

  “Not an issue,” Nick said flatly.

  They all turned to look at Jena, who flushed. “I’m afraid of Mom,” she mumbled, to a chorus of groans. “Travis and Leisa, you know her. She’s gonna come unglued.” She dropped her head onto the table. “She’ll be shopping for wedding dresses and picking baby names, and my life will become a living hell. She already tried to give me bedroom tips the other day.” She shuddered theatrically.

  A brief picture of Jena pushing a giggling little girl on a swing flashed through Nick’s head, and it didn’t scare him nearly as much as he thought it would. She looked up at him with a shy smile, and Nick smiled back, rubbing her leg with his foot again.

  Conor sighed. “That was my leg, Dickolas. If you two don’t stop playing footsie under the table I’m going to send one of you out to the car.”

  As they settled into their seats in the arena, Jena slipped her hand under Nick’s arm and curled her fingers with his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Tired?” Nick asked, idly playing with her fingers.

  She sighed. “Nope. Happy.” She looked up at him with a smile.

  “Any particular reason?” He reached over to trace the line of her jaw, trailing the tip of his finger over her chin and down her neck and skimming the scooped neck of her halter, sternly reminding himself that they were in a public place.

  Jena shivered and caught his hand, slapping it playfully before kissing his palm and settling it on her leg. “I’m with my all-time favorite guy. My friends are happy. I have a job I love, and we don’t have to walk a thousand miles to get back to the car after this.” She grinned. “What’s not to like?” Nick chuckled and kissed her head.

  The opening band took the stage with a crash, and Jena was suddenly on her knees in her seat, chest pressed against Nick’s, hands in his hair and hungry mouth searching. Just as Nicholas slid his hands under her shirt, trying to get closer in their awkward twisted position, she pulled back with a wicked smile. “Just wait ’til we get home. I have plans for that couch.” She slid her hand between them and caressed his thigh. And then higher. Laughing at the look on Nick’s face, Jena jumped up to squeeze between Leisa and Travis as they stood up to cheer.

  Nicholas was surprised into a laugh as he rose too, trying unsuccessfully to grab her and get revenge. By the time the headliner himself stepped on stage, though, Nick felt his smile fading. Dark thoughts about his father crept in, combined with a sense of frustration about Jena. He watched her and Conor dance wildly to nearly every song, and a longing for their sense of freedom overwhelmed him. Nick crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowed. Jena owned so damn much of him now, and he didn’t want any of it back. He wanted her to have everything. And she didn’t even trust him enough to tell him the truth about her meeting with Call.

  He felt eyes on him and turned his head to see Jena standing next to him, staring. Without a word, she slipped in front of him, wrapping his arms around her body and leaning against his chest.

  Nicholas leaned into her as well, dipping his head as she stretched her neck to one side, and tucking his face into the crook of her neck, feeling slightly ashamed of himself for brooding. He forced his worries to the back of his mind and smiled, determined not to spoil yet another “I love you” from Jena.

  Singing snatches of songs from the concert, Jena relaxed in her seat, eyes closed and a smile on her face, during the short drive home. Nicholas liked having the freedom to admire her unobserved and took advantage of it at every red light.

  “Did you have fun tonight, Jena?” he asked as he parked the car.

  “Is the night over?” she asked, looking at Nick with a raised eyebrow before she laughed.

  “That’s entirely up to you,” he answered, tracing his finger up her arm from her wrist to her shoulder.

  She closed her eyes and shivered. “Come upstairs and find out.” Opening the car door quickly, she dashed for the building.

  It took Nicholas a minute to get out of his seatbelt and gather up the jackets, so he didn’t catch up to Jena until they were at her door. Breathing roughly, he backed her against the door and placed his hands to either side of her head, leaning in until their lips were just a whisper apart.

  “You’re pretty fast.”

  Her hands came up to slide under his shirt. “I have skills and good shoes, what can I say?” Nick tensed as her hands trailed over his stomach. “Shall we take this inside?”

  “Unless you want the neighbors to call the cops about a naked woman in the hall, that’s probably a good idea,” Nick rumbled, pushing her shirt up teasingly as she turned to unlock the door.

&nb
sp; Jena tossed her keys in the bowl on the table and then stretched as Nick shut the door. “I need a shower,” she muttered, lifting her hair off her neck. “Too much dancing. I swear, I’m gonna get this mop chopped off one day. Too hot.” She gathered her hair up and posed. “How do you think I’d look with Leisa hair?”

  “Dead.”

  She laughed and went into the kitchen, snagging a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and tossing one to Nick. “So…thoughts on the evening?”

  Nick smiled and twisted the cap off his bottle. “It’s been good.” His smile faded as he thought about his father. “Mostly.”

  Jena sighed and shook her head. “Is that what you’ve been brooding over tonight? Let’s get this over with, then.” She boosted herself up to sit on the counter and looked at him. “What do you want to know, Nicholas?”

  “Apparently nothing you can answer,” he muttered, putting down his bottle and bracing his hands on the counter next to her as his shoulders slumped.

  “Hey,” Jena protested. “That’s not fair!” She hesitated. “And not totally accurate. Dr. Call did volunteer a little information, though I didn’t ask. He just said that your dad was worried about you and called to talk. I swear, Nicholas, that’s all he said.”

  “I thought you said your visit was work related.” He looked at his hands as they rested on the laminate.

  Jena moved her hand to his arm. “It was. I met with Dr. Call to ask for his assurance that I could count on him being fair as far as my job and school, given his relationship with your dad. I wanted to know if I needed to transfer. That’s all.”

  “You’d change schools and jobs if he said he couldn’t be objective?”

  Her answer came quickly. “In a heartbeat. I’m not giving you up, Nicholas. I can’t.”

  Nick couldn’t help smiling as he turned to face her. “Silly. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”