by Anne Conley
She kissed him back to avoid returning his proclamation, and the kiss grew in intensity in spite of herself. Justin was a really good lover, and while that didn’t make the relationship awesome, it kept it from sucking too badly. He moaned into her mouth when her fingers tangled in his hair, and he pulled her up and turned so she was sitting on his lap—his erection, more specifically. Charlie couldn’t stop herself grinding on top of him. His hands on her hips pressed her down on him, and the seam of her jeans pressed between her core and his hard ridge in a most exquisite way.
This was a prime example of Charlie’s poor impulse control—a direct result of her past. If something felt good, she did it. She was all about the immediate gratification of physical stuff. She knew it was something she still needed to work on, and the medication helped, but when it came to sex, she was incorrigible.
“Oh god, Charlie. I want you now…” Justin’s voice was insistent as his hands squeezed her breasts together. He dropped hot kisses along her jaw, down her neck to the opening of her shirt. Charlie could feel warmth building inside her, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than for Justin to rip her jeans off and plunge himself inside her.
She was probably so turned on because of that phone call from Les this morning. His voice did things to her nobody else had ever done. It always had, and when he purposefully slipped in the double-entendres, her mind just went ape-shit with possibilities. Imagining Justin’s mouth was Les’s, she helped him unbutton her shirt, willing him to hurry before anyone showed up.
Charlie was grinding her pelvis into Justin’s erection while he mouthed her breasts through her bra, clutching at her back, when Les walked in the door.
“Hey there…Fuck. I’m sorry.” He backed out as soon as he’d come in, and Justin went back to tonguing her nipples, with an evil self-satisfied grin on his face.
“Justin, stop.” He tightened his hold on her waist and she squirmed. “Justin, that’s a paying customer!”
“I don’t like him. Let me finish.” Charlie stopped his hands as they moved to her jeans. She was all kinds of hot and bothered, but this was wrong on so many levels. She’d been fantasizing about Les while hooking up with Justin, her boyfriend. Les, the object of her fantasy, walked in, and she had stuff she needed to sell to him.
“You don’t like anybody. Stop!” He finally loosened his grip, removing his mouth. Guilt tore through Charlie at the idea of what she’d been doing, but the pout on Justin’s lips put a damper on it. She stood up, straightening her shirt. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” She meant the whole relationship, but her mind was scattered, and she didn’t clarify.
“You’re right. I’ll meet you back here after you’ve closed up shop and we’ll finish what we started.” He was mad. She could tell by the square set of his jaw and the straight line of his mouth. A possessive kiss landed hard on her lips before he stormed out the door, pushing past Les who was standing on the steps, his hat in his hand, sheepish look on his face.
After looking around, he stepped inside. For what, Charlie couldn’t be sure. He might have thought she had more lovers hidden in the recesses of the room, waiting to jump out and ravish her as soon as he walked in the door.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can come back later, if you want.” His intense brown eyes stared down at her, the pupils dilated so they looked almost black.
“No, it’s okay.” Trying to compose herself, Charlie stood, feeling awkward. “You, uh, want to get the rest of the crown molding?” Turning, she led the way out the back door. “I’ll even knock off a little for my lack of professionalism.” Not that said unprofessionalism wasn’t embarrassing. Not at all.
“It’s okay. Once I got past the jealousy, I think that was better than porn.”
“What?” She spun on him to see his hands outspread, the picture of innocence.
He lowered his hands, fists clenched at his sides. “Just seeing a woman that comfortable with her body to do that…It was hot. I mean, really hot.” His face reddened, but he seemed determined to get the words out, even though his voice sounded really funny to Charlie. “I just realized my benefits may not be all that appealing.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Les.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” Before she could question him about that statement, he strode past her and walked toward the shed where the molding was.
Charlie felt bad. Somehow, she’d managed to hurt his feelings, and she was only trying to convey a sense of her attraction to him without actually telling him she found him attractive. What would he say if she told him she was thinking of him while Justin’s hands and mouth were on her? Should she tell him?
No. Definitely not. Nothing good could come from that. Les was a chocolates and flowers type of guy, and Charlie learned long ago she was built for one thing: sex. Not relationships. If only she could get out of the one she was in.
Tonight, when Justin came over, she would tell him. But now she had to figure out what to do with this serious lust happening between her and Les.
He was in the shed, running his hand along the smooth grains of the best crown molding she had. Her eyes were riveted to his hand stroking the wood. Strong hands. Working man’s hands.
“Good taste.”
She swallowed thickly before answering. “Yeah, they’re pretty high dollar clients.” He wasn’t looking at her, and she breathed a frustrated sigh. Nothing like stirring lust into a friendship to flatten it out.
“Look, Les, about before. I really like you; you’re a great friend, and one of my best clients. I just want to make sure we’re okay.” She offered up a hopeful smile when he turned to her, an unreadable expression in his eyes.
“Sure, Sweetness, we’re okay.” His voice sounded funny, but she couldn’t figure out what was off about it.
His eyes were like melted chocolate, glistening and sweet, and they held a sadness she couldn’t explain. She was making out with her boyfriend, why was he so sad? It wasn’t like they had a history or anything. The late-night phone calls were one thing, but she’d never acknowledged that she knew who he was, so it was all sort of anonymous. So that was totally innocent. Wasn’t it?
It was a good thing he’d caught her and Justin and stopped her from making a mistake with him right before she broke up with the man, even though she sorely wished he hadn’t.
Chapter 4
From Carla May’s Journal — written August 1994 — Age fifteen
Three years ago, Mama and Daddy were in their bedroom, probably passed out and The Man was in my room. It wasn’t my first time to try to make Mama and Daddy happy, but it was my first time with him, and he was different. He looked at me a lot and kept telling me how pretty I was. None of Mama and Daddy’s other friends had been that way with me. We had sex, like with the others, but it was different with him. He told me he wanted to take me away from them, to live with him. He wanted to be my boyfriend. I wanted that too. He gave me a pill to take, and before I knew it, we were giggling together, tickling each other. I felt so relaxed with him, like my muscles were jelly or something. I’d had one of those pills before, but hadn’t been with anyone to share the feelings with. I’d taken one from Mama’s purse when she was passed out, and gone into my room to sleep. But with The Man, the pills were fun. He was fun.
He asked me if I wanted to keep having sex with guys, but keep my own money to buy myself pretty things with. I said yes. I did want that. He asked me what I would do with the money if I could keep it. I told him I’d always wanted to live in a big, old house instead of a trailer home. He said I could keep my money and save up for one of those, he would help me. I figured it would be easy. Some part of me knew I was ready for this. All I had ever known was pleasing men, first Daddy, then his friends. My whole life had prepared me for this. This was all I knew how to do.
So I agreed to go with him, but he never gave me any money.
A week later, Charlie had been on the road for six hours and had made it past
Lubbock, hopeful to hit the New Mexico border before she stopped to sleep. The borders had the best rest stops—well-lit and relatively safe. She had a budget in mind for this trip, and while Mr. McMannis was paying expenses, she didn’t want to overspend and have him find someone less expensive. He was too good of a customer to lose.
Speaking of losing good customers, she hadn’t heard from Les since the incident last week. Charlie lied to herself, telling herself it was a good thing. She’d talked to Justin, and while he apologized for smothering her, he hadn’t really stopped. In fact, today she’d blown up at him when he pulled the pouty act again.
She was getting into her truck ready to leave, just as he pulled up behind her in his Jetta.
“Hey, baby. I was just coming by to try to talk you out of going.”
Aggravated, she put her hands on her hips and stood there, ready to punch him in the stomach. “Why?”
“Because I’ll miss you too much.” He sidled up to her and put his arms around her waist, pulling her up against his hard chest.
Telling him she wouldn’t miss him wasn’t the way to go, although she was at a loss as to what to do. “Look, Justin. I don’t think this is what I need right now. I’ve asked for breathing room, and this…” she gestured to his arms, clutching her tightly, “isn’t it.” He released her but didn’t back away. A frustrated huff of air escaped her. “I’ve got a job to do and I’m going to do it, whether it makes you happy or not.”
“That’s just it! You don’t care anything about making me happy. This whole relationship is so one-sided.”
“You’re right. It is, and I’m sorry, but apparently I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t. I don’t think I can even try anymore. At one time, the sex was great, and I mistakenly thought that was a good foundation for more, but I was wrong.”
“But it’s so much more than great sex!”
“No. It’s not. Now get out of my way so I can leave, Justin. I’ll be back in a week and a half. I’ll see you then, maybe.”
His bottom lip stuck out visibly, but he got into his car and backed out of her driveway. She huffed again before getting into her own truck and driving away. Damned if he didn’t follow her out of town, waving as she crossed the county line before turning around and driving back the other way.
She was amazed he still had a job to go to, as much time as he spent smothering her. Apparently, paralegals at law firms in Serendipity had lax schedules. She’d never really thought paralegal work would be an easy job, but Justin seemed to be on his boss’s good side.
And he’d called her four times on her drive today, just to check in. She didn’t answer while she was driving, choosing instead to listen to his voicemails after he left them. She’d call him back tonight. Maybe.
Although what she would do about Les was beyond her. She wasn’t going to call and apologize for her unprofessionalism again; he thought she was a secretary. She’d already extended him a discount on the molding he’d bought, but that hadn’t fazed him. He seemed genuinely disturbed at catching her and Justin in her office. Even though her shirt had been nearly off, she didn’t think he’d seen anything. And if he had, he’d said he liked it, hadn’t he?
An obnoxiously loud diesel truck stole her attention, passing her on the left—a rust-orange splotched dually with a primer gray fender. That wasn’t what got her attention, though. What made her look twice was it looked like Les was behind the wheel. She thought she might be going crazy, except how many trucks looked like that? What was Les doing out here, in west Texas, in the middle of nowhere? Driving like a bat out of hell? If it was Les, he’d better slow down or else he’d have some sort of accident.
He went over the lazy hill in front of her, then around a curve and out of sight. She shrugged, thinking it must have been a trick of her mind, and tried to get herself focused on her anticipation. Charlie loved the freedom of the road almost as much as she loved the sanctity of her home. Seeing new sights and eating up the pavement brought her a sense of normalcy she relished. She towed her trailer, in case other things at the auction caught her interest, and she was taking her time. She’d been passed frequently.
But she couldn’t force the anticipation, as her mind was stuck on the truck that just passed her. It was an ancient, rusty diesel, just like Les’s.
Coming around the curve, Charlie was alarmed to see a plume of smoke in the distance. She gunned her engine, hoping her worst fears weren’t realized. When she got closer, her stomach dropped to see the rusty diesel, upside down in a ditch by the side of the road, its roof crunched down dangerously. She pulled in behind the truck and jumped out to see if she could help.
A familiar mop of brown curls appeared, followed by Les’s massive torso squeezing out the window. Her heart lurched at the sight of him.
“Les?”
He turned at her voice, and recognition dawned with a broad smile. “Sweetness. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” She reached down to help him up, and when his large grip closed over hers, her breath caught in her throat. God what she wouldn’t do to have those rough hands on her body.
She pulled him up and he wrapped her in a massive bear hug, cracking her spinal cord with its intensity. “Jeez woman, I could kiss you.” He pulled away, and she was tickled to see he was actually blushing. Blush? Yeah, she shouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole. “I’m sorry. I’m just so glad to see anybody out here. It seems like I haven’t seen any cars since Lubbock; I was worried I’d be stuck out here for a while. And then, not only does someone show up, but it’s the most beautiful woman in the world.” His face dropped shyly. “Of course, not that I’m trying anything. I’ll stop talking now.”
That was so sweet. He was embarrassed. She tried to ease the awkwardness by changing the subject. “Where you headed in such a hurry?”
“I was headed to a wedding north of L.A., Santa Barbara, and my buddy said if I got there early, I could crash the stag party.” Now he was shuffling his feet like a seven-year old, and Charlie wanted to ruffle his hair.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Friday.”
“I’m heading to Oxnard for an auction on Saturday. I can’t get you there for the stag party, but I can get you there by Friday, for sure.” Today was Tuesday, that would work out well.
“Only if you’ll be my date to the wedding. Otherwise, I may as well take a cab to the nearest airport.” His words came out in a rush, like a seventh grader working up the nerve to ask a girl to a school dance.
“What?” Okay, she knew what he said, but lines were getting blurred and she needed the extra time to think.
“I’ll keep you company on the drive if you come to the wedding with me as my date.”
If she hadn’t been trying to break up with Justin for a week, she would have pulled the boyfriend card. Instead, she said simply, “I don’t really do relationships, Les.”
“Just a date. That’s all. I want to at least make them think I’m not the same guy I was fifteen years ago.”
There was a pathetic look about him, suddenly—a hang-dog expression on his face she couldn’t resist. His pouty lips did things to her that Justin’s never had. For one thing, Les’s pout didn’t look intentional. It was a subconscious expression, not manipulative.
She sighed heavily, the resignation mingling with a sense of anticipation Charlie didn’t like. “Okay. I’ll be your date. But nothing else. I meant what I said about the relationship thing. This can’t be the start of anything, and you need to understand that.”
They stayed there—he on his cell phone, she with her laptop—for another hour or so, until a wrecker arrived. When they managed to get his truck upright, Les climbed into the backseat and retrieved a hanging bag, a duffle bag, and a guitar case. Charlie raised her eyebrows at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.” So he played guitar like his namesake. She should have known. Charlie wondered what sort of music he played, but figured they would be in the car for the next week tog
ether, so she’d have plenty of time to figure it out. He tossed the hanging bag and duffel into the backseat of her truck, and laid the guitar case on top of his bags, after opening it to pluck some strings and make sure it was nestled safely.
Charlie went ahead and got into the truck to wait for him. She watched as he talked to the police officer who had been called by the tow truck driver. Seeing him tell his story of the accident with his hands, gesticulating wildly, smiling the entire time, sunglasses sitting on top of his head, she saw a hidden strength in his effortlessness. Then, again to the tow truck driver, marveling at the ease with which he held himself in comparison to the other men.
The police officer was stiff, as officers of the law tended to be, in Charlie’s experience. They had to exude authority with their every move, and this one was no exception. His smile was genuine, as he listened to Les tell his story, but it didn’t look comfortable on the man’s face. The tow truck driver was an older gentleman with tobacco-stained lips and a yellowed beard. He was the complete opposite of the officer—slouching so badly, he looked as if he could be poured out of his coveralls.
Les stood between them, all of five foot nine, looking bigger than the two of them combined with his presence alone. He gestured with an ease and comfort that told people he liked the skin he was in, and wouldn’t trade it for anything. Charlie envied that.
Finally, the tow truck driver and the officer went to their respective vehicles after shaking Les’s hand and waving him away. Les turned to Charlie’s truck with a bright smile and sauntered her direction.
What in the world was he so happy about? He just totaled his truck, almost died, and was stuck with an acquaintance at best for the duration of his drive. She smiled back at him, acutely unsure of what she was getting into.
