Out Bad

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Out Bad Page 9

by Janice M. Whiteaker


  She clenched his shirt, trying to pull him closer to her. Her breath was coming fast, her pulse racing under his lips as he brushed them across her throat. He wrapped his hands around to her bottom, pulling her hard, the feel of her body rubbing against him forcing a low groan from his throat.

  Shit. This was getting out of control real fast.

  He tore his lips from hers pushing her gently away from him as he tried to catch his breath.

  Did she think she could still get him to bed her? The look of fear and apprehension on her face made him think not, but he needed to be sure. “I told you I’m not looking for something casual and I meant it.”

  “I know.” Her lips were trembling as she spoke.

  “We still have some things we need to talk about before this,” he motioned between them with his finger,” goes any further.”

  She nodded silently, wrapping her arms around her waist.

  He forced slow breaths as he tried to regain control of the situation and himself.

  “You need to go change and I need to get home before I do something I’ll regret.” He picked his bag back up. “Can I come back tomorrow after work?”

  She nodded again, her eyes wide as if her actions were surprising, even to her.

  He wanted to lean in for one more kiss. One more feel of her lips against his, but knew that was a bad idea, so instead he turned and walked out the door, not looking back until he was locked safely in his van.

  She watched from the open doorway as he pulled away from the curb. This was going to be more difficult than he thought, and it quickly becoming apparent that dealing with Gwen wasn't going to be the hard part.

  Eleven

  Gwen leaned over and held her head between her knees, sucking in long, slow breaths. She sat back up slowly and tipped her head back. She really needed to not puke right now.

  She'd been sitting at home for an hour. Sixty of the longest minutes of her life.

  It was almost six.

  And she was almost ready to throw up.

  Her phone rang on the counter, buzzing gently across the granite. She snatched it up.

  Her breathing went back to normal as she read the name on the screen. "Hello."

  "Gwennie? What's wrong? You sound terrible."

  Gwen rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror. "Thanks." She fluffed her hair just in case she looked as bad as her sister apparently thought she sounded.

  "Don't be a crab. I was just worried, you sounded like you didn't feel good or something."

  "I'm just tired I think." Gwen pulled a magazine off the counter and fanned her face trying to stop the stress sweats threatening the bronzer hiding her paleness.

  "Oh, I was calling to see if you could watch the girls for us Saturday night, but I can find someone else if you need a break."

  "No way. I'd love to. Besides it gives me a reason not to work." Gwen stopped fanning and gently tapped the area under her eyes to make sure it was dry.

  "Well, okay..." There was dead air on the line long enough Gwen checked to make sure she hadn't dropped Gabbi's call. "I was thinking maybe we could go to lunch Sunday too. Just the two of us."

  Gwen squinted at her reflection in the half bath mirror. Something was up. They hadn't been anywhere without the girls since they crawled out of Gabbi's body. "Is everything alright?"

  "Yeah. Yeah. I just thought we could have a little time to ourselves."

  "Sure." She was still suspicious, but right now she didn't have the wherewithal to drag it out of Gabbi. It could wait.

  She heard the doorbell ring, the beautiful chiming doing nothing to soothe the sickness in her stomach. "Gabs I've gotta go. I'll call you later."

  She stood up off the commode and gave herself a long look in the mirror.

  She would get through this. The first step was always the hardest.

  She marched out and straight to the door, keeping her eyes on the floor, knowing his shadowy outline through the etched glass could be enough to make her loose the last little bit of a grip she had over the panic attempting to ruin her evening. And maybe ultimately, her life.

  She yanked the door open. Joe stood on the other side looking much more intimidating than she'd remembered. She straightened her spine. He was just a man.

  That wasn't actually true, but dealing with what he might be was not on the list of things she could deal with today. It probably wasn't on tomorrow's list either.

  Joe held up his hands, a brown paper take-out bag looped over each wrist. "Hungry?"

  Her stomach churned.

  "Yes." She swallowed. She'd expected a little time easing herself into being alone with Joe before she would have to try to stomach food. She at least figured she'd have the drive to the restaurant to relax a little.

  The smell of curry wafted in through the open door. Her stomach rumbled, but it wasn't clear yet what the reasoning was behind it. Hopefully it would decide to be hungry. She stepped back, holding her breath as he passed and closing her eyes, trying to stay calm.

  He walked to the kitchen and set the bags on the counter. "I hope you like Indian." He grinned, a deep dimple creasing the skin on the left of his lips. "I took a risk."

  "I love Indian food." She leaned against the counter as he unloaded the foam containers.

  "Then I guess the risk paid off." She watched as he opened the containers, still smiling, obviously satisfied he'd made the right choice.

  She pulled a couple plates out of the cabinet and snagged two forks from the drawer wondering if she would be as lucky. She leaned close to Joe, sliding the plates onto the breakfast bar. He stiffened as she brushed against him.

  The upset in her stomach calmed a little. Maybe Joe was a little tense around her too. The idea that he might not be as calm as he seemed on the outside made her feel a little less like she was at a disadvantage. Maybe she was more in control of this situation than she realized.

  She smiled up at him as she straightened beside him. "What would you like to drink?"

  "Water would be good." He turned back to focus on opening the containers of rice and chicken curry. Gwen stepped away, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. Joe was definitely not as cool and composed as she thought.

  Thank God.

  She filled two tall glasses with icy water and set them beside the plates and forks as she slid into a high-backed stool, watching as he continued to organize the five containers of food. She was feeling better and better about this.

  "It looks really good. Where's it from?" She tipped a container of rice over her plate and scraped a pile out before topping it with chicken curry.

  "Right down the street actually." He slowly slid into the seat beside her, his hands in loose fists on the counter in front of him.

  She scooped a bite and tasted it. "This is really, really good. I might have to order from here again." She yanked gently on the menu stapled to one of the bags, pulling it free.

  "You order out a lot?" Joe finally piled some of the food onto his plate.

  "No. I'm usually too tired to deal with it so I eat stupid things for dinner."

  Joe chuckled beside her, his full mouth forcing the sound to rumble through his chest. She caught a glimpse of his dimple out of the corner of her eye just before he used a napkin to wipe his lips. Lips she kissed yesterday. Lips she might even get to kiss again today.

  "What kind of stupid things?"

  "Cereal, toast..." She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I've also been known to eat ice cream out of the container."

  His eyes twinkled. "I didn't realize how health conscious you were."

  "Well, now you know." She took a big gulp of water as he burst into laughter beside her.

  A half hour later her belly hurt. Whether it was from too much food or laughing at Joe's stories about Heath and Gabbi, there was no telling. Either way, it was a good pain.

  Joe started stacking the empty containers and dropping them into one of the paper bags.

  "You can leave that. I'll ge
t it later."

  "I'm not leaving you with a mess to clean up." He stood up and took her plate, adding it to his.

  "You bought dinner. I can at least clean it up."

  He took both plates to the kitchen and started rinsing them in the sink. "Maybe next time." He gave her a grin and a wink that said, 'probably not then either'.

  She watched as he shoved his long sleeves up over his forearms then squeezed some soap into the sink. Sliding out of her seat, Gwen collected their forks and glasses. She set them beside the sink before grabbing a dish towel.

  Joe rinsed each plate before handing them to her. Quietly they washed, dried and put away their dinner dishes.

  He pulled the plug on the sink and ran the faucet, rinsing out the bubbles. When he finished, she handed him her towel to dry his hands. Something caught her eye. Grabbing his hand with both of hers, she turned it so she could take a closer look at his thumb.

  “What happened?” The nail of his thumb was shades of blue and black with swelling around the edges. It had to be painful.

  He left his hand in hers, making no attempt to pull back, even as she turned it in all directions, carefully inspecting the extent of his injury. She looked up at him and found him once again grinning at her.

  “It’s not funny. It looks awful.” How could he be laughing? His nail was probably going to fall off. It would take it forever to grow back.

  “I smashed it at work. Happens all the time.” He held out his other hand. A bandage was wrapped around the middle of his index finger.

  “You smashed that one too?”

  He looked down, rubbing the edges of the bandage with his thumb. “No. Burned this one.”

  Gwen took full advantage of the opportunity he was giving her. She ran her fingers gently over his bandaged finger, then higher, over the pale scarring covering his knuckles. He held his breath as she moved further, tracing the lines of the tattoos he normally covered with long sleeves, even in the heat of July.

  She looked up at him. "Why do you hide these?"

  ****

  It was the moment he'd been dreading for years. It was here both too soon, and too late.

  He should have told Gwen sooner. She shouldn't have had to ask a question that would bring it all out. Explaining his past was something he'd never intended to keep from anyone important in his life, and he was really hoping Gwen would be important. Very important.

  All the excitement he felt about getting to spend an evening alone with Gwen getting to know her better dissolved as the reality of his situation smacked him across the face.

  As much as he wanted to know more about her, she deserved to know more about him. It was time to tell Gwen about his past.

  He held on to these last few seconds with her, knowing they might be the last he ever had. As much as he didn't want to consider it, Gwen may never want to see him again after she found out the kind of life he'd lived. And he couldn’t blame her. It would be a reasonable reaction, but it was one that made him feel the curry he'd just eaten trying to climb back out.

  He didn't want to tell her at all. But he had to. And he had to do it now before he got any deeper than he already was.

  “There’s something I need to tell you."

  "Ok." Her hands gently released his arms, but her feet stood firm, her body only inches from his.

  His breath caught in his chest. He had never been more scared of anything than he was of this woman walking away from him and from what he was desperately hoping they could be.

  “I…”

  He went to run his hand through his hair only to remember he’d tied it back. Dropping his hand back to his side he sighed, waiting one more second before what he said might change everything.

  Her brow furrowed. “Is this about you going to prison?”

  Her words stunned him. Had Gabbi and Heath already told her?

  “Don’t look so shocked. All I had to do was Google you." She put her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I’m not some young girl naive enough to think people always tell the truth.”

  His heart sank. Did she feel like he’d lied to her?

  She stepped closer her fingers toying with the fabric of his shirt. “I'm also not foolish enough to believe people can't change. The only way to know who someone is, really, is to let them show you who they are." Gwen tipped her head ever so slightly to the side, the soft strands of her hair spilling over one shoulder. "So far, you've shown yourself to be a hardworking, kind, gentle man. I will believe otherwise when and if you give me reason to do so.” She took a deep breath.

  "But I really hope you don't"

  Joe was speechless. He had been running through scenarios of how that conversation would go for over a week. Never once did it go even a little like this.

  Before he could stop himself, he pulled her close, crashing his mouth down on hers. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her lean body tightly against him as his tongue slipped easily between her lips and into the hot wetness of her mouth.

  She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him to her, pressing into him as she rubbed her tongue against his before pulling back to nip at his lower lip.

  He pulled her mouth back to his, swallowing a soft moan as it escaped her lips. Lifting her off the floor, he spun and settled her bottom on the kitchen counter, bringing her up to his height. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he abandoned her mouth, nipping and licking his way down her neck. She tightened her legs around him, the friction against his straining cock dragging out a moan as he buried his face in her silky hair.

  He froze.

  What was happening? He’d vowed to be slow with her and here he was dry humping her while he groaned in her ear.

  He unwrapped her legs from around his waist and pried her arms from his neck before taking a very long step back. Then another. And another until he was safely across the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was strained and tight in his throat. He needed to slow his breathing and calm down.

  Taking things slow with Gwen was going to be harder than he thought. Much harder. Especially when she was still sitting on the counter, not looking even the least little bit regretful of what just happened. Quite the opposite actually. Her lips, swollen from his rough kisses, spread into a slow smile.

  “I’m not.” She jumped down from the counter and slowly sashayed toward the family room. She looked back at him over her shoulder. "Want to watch a movie with me Mr. Parker?"

  No.

  Yes.

  No. Definitely no.

  Twelve

  The sun pounded down on Joe, baking into his skin, the bright white of his long-sleeved cotton shirt doing nothing to reflect the rays. He didn't care.

  He was riding. The sky was clear. And he'd spent every night this week with a woman who surprised him in ways he never could have imagined.

  Heath turned into a roadside hole in the wall and Joe followed, lining his bike beside his friend's.

  "It's hotter than balls." Heath pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket and wiped at his forehead. "And I don't have any hair."

  "Maybe that's your problem." Joe pointed at Heath's pale blonde high and tight fade. "Nothing between you and the sun."

  Heath rubbed his head. "Gabbi would shit if I grew it out."

  Joe walked toward the door, pulling it open for his much fairer buddy to go in first. "Imagine what you'd catch at work."

  Heath shook his head. "I just have to figure out how to tie this thing on." He folded his navy blue paisley covered would be do-rag and shoved it back in his pocket before sliding onto a seat at the bar.

  Joe held two fingers up at the guy behind the bar and sat down.

  "How's your week been?" Heath twisted in his seat stretching his back.

  "What's wrong? Gettin' too old to ride?"

  Heath groaned and shook his head. "It's those damn girls." He puffed his chest, bringing his shoulder blades together, his spine popping with every move. "Do you know how long
it's been since I've had my wife to myself for an entire night?"

  "You work nights."

  "Not always. That's not the point." Heath paused as their beers arrived and took a drink before continuing. "Years. It has been years since I've been alone with my wife."

  "Why don't you have Gwen keep them for a night?"

  Heath turned to him. "That's a brilliant idea. I bet she would love that."

  Joe chuckled remembering the waxy bath crayons covering Gwen's white soaking tub. "Not if they clog her tub again."

  "What?"

  He froze, his full bottle of cold beer to his lips. Shit.

  He took a drink as he tried to think of what to say. How to wipe away the information he'd accidentally spilled.

  "How would you know the girls clogged Gwen's drain?"

  Joe cleared his throat as he set his bottle back on the scarred bar. "She called me to come unclog it."

  "Oh, God. Please don't tell me that has some sort of double meaning. Gwen called you to unclog her drain." Heath's head was in his hands. "Please tell me you were just there professionally."

  "I was a complete professional." Joe took another drink as the picture of Gwen's silky robe slipping off her shoulders lingered in his mind. It was true. He'd been nothing but an absolute gentleman.

  Just like every night this week, with the exception of one where she'd ended up propped on a counter, her strong legs wrapped tightly around his waist. But he'd been very careful to be on his best behavior since then. He'd even managed to sit very, very close to her on the couch through a movie and keep his hands to himself. It wasn't easy, but it was better than sitting at home alone.

  "What about since then?" Heath was staring at the side of his head. Hard.

  "Yup."

  "Yup? What the hell does that mean?" He pointed an accusatory finger at Joe. "I told you to stay away from her."

  "You did."

  "Gabbi's going to shit." Heath took a few gulps from his bottle. "She's gonna kill you."

  "Why? Gwen's a grown woman."

  "You don't understand man." Heath faced him, leaning an elbow on the bar. "Sisters, that's like a whole different ball game."

 

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