by Cat Mason
Placing my phone back on the counter, I greet a couple ladies as they walk into the store and check their IDs. Helping them fill their baskets and answering questions while they giggle, I rack my brain on something to do for Gunnar. Generally the lake or mudding is a go to for us when we need a pick me up, but that’s out of the question tonight.
I have no doubt Gunnar will come home and hide away in the mood he is in. I can’t have that. My always happy and joking husband breaks my heart when he is in a funk. Gunnar is the type of person that when he smiles everyone wants to be around him, you can’t help but be intoxicated by his good moods. Problem is, the same thing goes for the bad ones. His grouchy funks are notorious for ruining your best days.
That’s not happening.
Deciding to make it my mission to put a smile on his face tonight, I grab my phone once Lynsey starts ringing up the ladies’ purchases, and reserve a table at his favorite restaurant.
Once I’m done at work, I hurry home to get ready. Wanting everything perfect for our night out, I take my time curling my hair into loose spirals and pin them back out of my face so that they all cascade down my back. Digging through the closet, I slip into my blue sundress. The short, strapless, lace bodice hugs all my curves and fans out in ruffles hitting just above my knee. Not only is it Gunnar’s favorite, but I always feel sexy in it.
Just as I slip into my black heels, I hear the door slam shut. Stepping out of the bedroom, I make my way up the hallway and see him sitting sag back on the couch in the living room. Covering his face with his arm, he stretches his long legs out and props them onto the coffee table.
“Hi,” I say, leaning against the doorway.
“Hey,” he replies, not moving. “Lost two players today and they’re waiting on inconclusive results on another. How does it look for there to be a team scandal after the first fuckin’ game? I’m lucky they didn’t strip us of the win all-together.”
Unable to stand it any longer, I close the distance between us. Not waiting for him to look at me, I straddle his thighs. Brushing his arm away, I press a soft kiss to his lips. “Everything is going to be fine, baby. You’re a great coach, everyone knows that.” His hands run up my arms and down my back, stopping on my lace covered ass. I freeze.
Gunnar’s fingers run over the fabric, his lip twitches. Opening his eyes, he looks up at me, cupping my face with one hand. “Are you wearin’ this dress because I had a bad day?”
Shaking my head, I brush my lips over his. “I’m wearing this dress because you’re about to have a great night.”
“You don’t have to do that, Kennedy.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I smile at him. “Of course I don’t have to, but I am. Go get changed, we’re going to dinner.”
His hand slides into my hair, pulling me closer. “What did I do to deserve you?” he asks, his brown eyes studying me.
The words, even though I know he is being sweet, hurt my heart too. I can’t help feeling a pang of guilt at knowing he doesn’t deserve what I’ve done. Gunnar deserves me to be focused completely on him, on making him smile tonight after such a horrible day.
That’s exactly what he is going to get.
***
By the time Gunnar is changed and we make it across town to the riverfront, The Seafood Company is nearly full, making me glad I booked a reservation for us tonight. With so many people wanting tables overlooking the water, we are stuck in a corner U-shaped booth towards the kitchen, but neither of us seem to mind it much.
After ordering, Gunnar drinks his beer while I sip on lemonade. I joke about work and try to keep the conversation on anything other than the school or football.
“Well look at you two love birds.” The voice causes me to jump in the booth. My eyes fly up and meet Dixon’s steely blue gaze.
“Hey, Dix, what’s up?” Gunnar says before pressing his beer to his lips. “Sorry I cut you short when you called earlier. I didn’t know Kennedy made reservations and I was in a hurry to get dressed.”
“Well, you know Kennedy, always full of surprises.” Dixon glances between us, before walking to my side of the U-shaped booth. “Hey, I know, how about we make this a double date?” he asks, and I take notice of the tiny blonde standing beside him. The non-existent black dress she has on barely covers her essentials. It looks like it was a special in the toddler prostitute department at Sluts R Us. Of course though, these are the types of women Dixon is known for.
The top of her dress is damn near cutting off circulations to her tits. If she breathes deeply, I’m thinking the over-inflated, very fake jugs are going to pop out and the bitch may float away.
That wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all. Even though it is rare for us to meet someone Dixon gets involved with, I hate it. They are usually so self-absorbed and air headed that I am bored out of my fucking mind. I have no desire to spend my night listening to her self-tanning lotion horror stories or how to remove glitter paint from your stilettos in five easy steps.
The thought has me biting back a laugh as Dixon crams himself into the booth beside me, forcing me to scoot around closer to Gunnar. Beneath the table, his hand brushes over my knee, inching higher up my inner thigh before flexing his fingers. “Keep going Kennedy, need to make room for my friend, Ava.”
Are you fucking kidding me?
Dixon keeps moving over in the booth until there is enough room for Ava to sit down, his hand still firmly locked around my thigh. My hand clamps down on his as I glare at him, silently pleading for him to stop. Instead, he carries on a conversation with Gunnar as if it were an ordinary day. What the hell is he doing? He can’t do that here, not now, not in front of Gunnar
He’s trying to cop a feel beneath the table in front of his friend and my husband. Gunnar leans back in the booth, placing his now empty beer bottle on the edge of the table. Moving my foot, I press the heel of my shoe into the top of Dixon’s sneaker. Hard. I brought Gunnar here tonight because he was upset, how dare Dixon pull a stunt like this and think I would be OK with it.
Hissing out a breath, he clears his throat, clearly in pain. He flexes his fingers again before releasing his grip. Dixon turns his attention to Ava. Sliding an arm behind her in the booth, he pulls her into his side. “Do you know what you’re gettin’, Ally?”
“Ava,” she whines, correcting him. “Remember, we had History together in high school?”
“Right,” Dixon says, shaking his head. “Sorry… Ava…”
“It’s OK, sweetie,” she purrs, running her hand up his arm. “I’m sure it won’t happen again after tonight.”
Looking over at Ava, I smile. “You have nothing to worry about,” I say, knowing that she won’t be around long enough for him to need to remember her name. Dixon isn’t called the Tin Man for nothing. No strings, no feelings, no regrets. The perfect unapologetic asshole and yet she will still expect him to call her tomorrow after he’s showered her off his dick.
And then there is me, who he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop fucking. What in the hell am I doing?
When the waiter brings another round of drinks, we are ready to order. Focusing on that, I stop my racing thoughts for a moment. “I’ll have a New York Strip, well done, with a loaded baked potato,” I say, handing him my menu.
“I’ll have the chef salad,” Ava says, “No meat, no eggs, no cheese, no tomatoes, no croutons. Just fat free ranch dressing, on the side.”
“So just a bowl of lettuce?” the waiter deadpans, causing me to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Seriously, who wants to eat like that all the time to keep the body of a twelve-year-old boy only to install life vests to her chest? My ass is real, my tits are real, and I won’t eat like a rabbit when I love my curves and real food.
Gunnar and Dixon both order steaks as well then begin chatting about the upcoming game and the lineup change while I listen to Ava talk about her new job as head shampoo girl at the new spa downtown.
“Weren’t y’all just talkin’ about going to
the spa, babe?” Gunnar asks, wrapping an arm behind me.
“Yeah, I’m sure your ass could use some pamperin’, huh, Kennedy?” Dixon says, not looking at me, but I feel his fingers trace up the outside of my thigh. Memories of earlier flash in my mind, making me press my thighs together beneath the table.
Dixon takes notice and repeats his movement again. Crossing my legs, I turn them toward Gunnar, feeling the frustration roll off Dixon at my refusal. I don’t care though, tonight is about Gunnar and it was supposed to be just us, not us with Dixon and his flavor of the week.
Turning to Ava, I nod my head. “Actually, my friends and I were talking about a spa day. We are overdue for some relaxation and some fun.”
“Exhale is the best,” she says excitedly, twirling a piece of her bottle blonde hair between her fingers. “You’ll leave feeling like a new woman and looking great. Be sure that you ask about the new Infrared Heat Wrap. You’ll lose all those unwanted inches you’re carrying around.”
Gunnar chokes on his beer, and Dixon’s eyes widen in shock at the very snide comment. Lifting my straw to my lips, I sip my lemonade and smile. “A woman’s body is like a like a long stretch of highway; all the best ones have curves.” Setting down my glass, I wink at her. “I’m not gettin’ any complaints about what I’m workin’ with.”
“Hell no you’re not, baby,” Gunnar says with a laugh. Dixon chuckles, but his eyes heat as they rake over me while he downs the rest of his beer.
I don’t understand it though, because the differences between Ava and I are staggering. There is not one thing I have in common with this chick other than the fact that Dixon plans to tear into her like he has me.
“See, that’s why I won’t get married,” Ava says, spinning the straw in her cocktail. Leaning over, she smiles at Dixon. “Men are visual, so it’s all about maintaining the perfect package. Once you settle down, and become that boring housewife, it’s too easy to just let yourself go,” she whispers the last bit, but we all hear it.
This bitch is pushing my last fucking button.
“I need the bathroom, Gunnar,” I say, nudging his arm so he will let me out. I need distance from the table before I ruin the good mood Gunnar seems to have found by beating a bitch with my shoe.
Like the gentleman he is, Gunnar takes my hand once he is on his feet, helping me from the booth. Straightening the hem of my dress, I grab my black clutch from the table and head straight for the ladies’ room.
Walking over to the sink, I set my clutch down and turn on the faucet to wash my hands. I let her get to me when I shouldn’t have and it pisses me off. Of course the bitch was simply pointing out what she sees as imperfections to drum up some extra commission for herself. Looking up into the mirror, I roll my eyes. “Perfect package, my happy fuckin’ ass,” I mutter, shutting off the water. Digging in my clutch, I pull out my lipstick. “I’d let the bitch go, all right. Right out the back of the truck and into rush hour traffic.”
“You let her get to you.”
The unmistakable gravel drawl of Dixon’s voice makes me jump, my lipstick falls from my fingers and into the sink. Spinning around, I press back into the counter. “What the hell are you doing in here, Dixon?” I ask angrily. “Better yet, why the fuck are you even here at all? You can’t… you… you… ugh!” I shout, flinging my hands up in frustration.
Flipping the lock on the door, Dixon closes the distance between us, effectively pinning me between him and the counter. His blue eyes bore into mine so intensely that my stomach flips. “I can’t what, Sunshine?” he asks, running his hand up my bare arm. “Can’t touch you?” he asks, leaning into my ear. “Because I can. What’s worse, is that I’m findin’ that I have to. I can’t be in the room with you and not wanna feel you. I’ll touch you as much as I can, however I can. Plain and simple. So, this is how it’s gonna be.” His hand runs down my back, slipping between the counter and my body to cup my ass through my dress, his other hand cups the back of my neck, flexing his fingers as he applies pressure. “I want you here, now, on this fuckin’ counter screamin’ my name, but that can’t happen. My best friend had a bad day and needs the night his wife planned for him.”
“Then why…”
His fingers tighten on the back of my neck, my thought process stops completely and I am helpless to just feel as he slams his lips to mine. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, hard, hot, and brutal. My moan is met with a growl as he rips his lips from mine just as quickly. “I’m gonna go call in to the station like I’m supposed to be doing, while you go back to the table. While we eat, we’ll laugh and talk shit. It’s what we do, Kennedy, that’s not changin’.” Rolling his hips into me, he meets my eyes, a wicked grin playing across his face. “And if I feel like touchin’ you, and that perfect fuckin’ body of yours, I will.”
Releasing his hold on me, Dixon turns and leaves the bathroom. I stand frozen, touching my fingers to my lips, trying to sort through what the fuck just happened before fixing my makeup and heading back to the table.
The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch. Ava doesn’t make any more comments and Dixon doesn’t make any move to touch me again while we eat. By the time the check comes, Gunnar is laughing and making plans with Dixon to go fishing.
We part ways with Dixon and Ava at the door. While they head off to the parking lot, Gunnar leads me down the walkway to the river. The sun is nearly set now, but the lamps along the path light our way as we walk hand in hand.
Stopping, he sits on a bench, motioning for me to join him. “Thank you for tonight, baby.” Wrapping his arm around me, he pulls me into his lap, settling me across his thighs.
Smiling down at him, I run my fingers along his jaw. His eyes close and he blows out a breath. “Today was probably the worst day of my life. It felt like my entire career as a coach and teacher was bein’ questioned. I feel so helpless in all of this, but you knew exactly what I needed to get my mind off of it all for a while. I couldn’t love you more than I do right now, Kennedy.”
“I love you too, babe.” Leaning down, I kiss the corner of his mouth. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for this smile.”
His arms tighten around me when he buries his face in my hair, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind my ear as he breathes. I can feel the emotion and relief coming off my over-stressed husband. Running my hands along his back soothingly, I sit with Gunnar and be the rock that he needs.
Climbing into the bed of Gunnar’s truck, I drop down and settle onto the wheel well. The bus should be pulling into the school anytime, but I know we still have some time to kill before we can leave so I make myself comfortable. The excitement of knowing the kids won their first away game of the season is buzzing through the parking lot as the parents begin to pull in. Especially after the week that Gunnar has had trying to fill the empty spots and prepare second string players for Central’s tough ass defense. The lot is filled with chanting parents all excited to celebrate the win with the team and coaches. Some came with us to watch, while others weren’t able to make it to the game, but either way they’re just as excited for their kid. Football is a really big deal here, and tonight our boys are heroes.
Lynsey sprawls out in the center of the bed, Mark slides back onto the tailgate by her feet and Dixon… well, Dixon takes up residence on the other side of the bed so he can stare at me without it being completely obvious to anyone except me. It’s what he has been doing all night. Situating himself just right so no one asks questions. It has me on edge and I feel like I’m waiting for him to attack or something. After pushing away his attempt the other night, I’ve been waiting for it, but all he’s done is watch me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to touch me, but I was trying to make Gunnar feel better and I doubt having his best friends hand between my legs would have helped his mood any. That, and that Ava bitch had me feeling all kinds of violent. I had hoped our chat in the bathroom at the restaurant had helped explain why I pushed him away. Instead I got nothing but blue eyes b
urning into me all night long as he eye fucked me into next week.
“Do you ever miss this?” I ask, not directing the question at anyone in particular.
Mark is the first to speak up but he doesn’t turn around to look at me. “Miss what?”
“This. High school. Being part of the madness instead of one of the people in the stands cheering it on.” Pausing, I look up at Dixon who is studying me carefully. “Not having to worry about where life is going or how it’s going to end up. Everything seemed so much easier back then.”
“I, for one, wouldn’t go back if you paid me.” Lynsey laughs, folding her arms under her head.
“Yeah,” Mark agrees. “Me either.”
Thinking for a second Dixon shakes his head and looks away. “If I had the chance I’d change a few things, but I wouldn’t want to go back. All in all I like who I ended up becomin’.”
My eyebrows draw together. “What would you change?” The only thing I can think of has something to do with his parents, but I feel like that isn’t where this is going.
“Doesn’t matter,” he mutters without looking at me. “You can’t go back, you can’t change shit, so there’s no reason to even wonder what it would be like.”
I open my mouth to say something, but the truck shifts and a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders. Gunnar presses his lips to my bare neck and I can feel him smile, the energy from the win still rolling off him. Standing up, I turn and grab his shoulders and he steadies me as I jump to the ground, congratulating him with a quick kiss. I rest my chin against his shoulder as he leans back against the truck. For a brief second my eyes connect with Dixon’s across the truck and there is something painful in the way he’s looking at me but he quickly masks whatever it is.
Brushing us off, Dixon steps onto the side of the bed and jumps to the ground, saying something about being back in a little bit, and then he’s gone. Lynsey sits up and watches him walk away before turning back to me.
“What the hell crawled up his ass now?”
