“You did not.” She smiles shyly at me.
“No, I didn’t but really, I’m sure someone has. My name’s Jase.” I extend my hand out to her.
“Amanda, first time at the laundromat. Can you tell?”
“Really, I had no idea.” I fake shock causing her to giggle. It’s a beautiful sound. I haven’t heard a genuine laugh in so long. I like it.
“So, what brings you to this fine establishment on a Saturday night? Surely you have better places to be?” I grab her coins and insert them, bringing the machine to life.
“Machine broke. New one isn’t coming until Monday and well, a girl needs her clothes.” She moves to sit at the table near her things. “Have a seat,” she offers. I hesitate, guilt making its reappearance. I’ve already had more of a conversation with her than I’ve had with anyone in a year. Maybe I’ve gone too far. I don’t want to mislead her.
“Come on, laundry master, I won’t bite and could use the company.”
“I don’t know. I should get back to my clothes.” I point over to my own laundry knowing that’s the lamest excuse anyone has ever used. It’s not like my shit is far away or in another room. It’s literally ten feet away, but I’m just not sure what the hell I’m doing.
“Suit yourself, I’m sure watching clothes spin is better entertainment than a rich girl who can’t find her ass in a laundromat.” She shrugs, brushing me off.
“Nice to meet you, Amanda,” I say and mean it.
“Yeah, nice to meet you too,” she replies, grabbing the closest magazine to read. I turn to leave her but stop. Brit’s words come back to me, telling me to move on with my life. To keep living. While I’m not so sure flirting with another woman is what she meant, I decide, in that split second, to take a chance. What harm can come from harmless flirting and adult conversation?
“On second thought, maybe I will take that seat.” Offering her a smile, I move toward the chair.
“It’s all yours.” She pushes it toward me, setting the magazine down. “Before we go too far, I should tell you I’m married.” She lifts her hand to show me the biggest rock I’ve ever seen.
“We’re not going further than the laundromat, I can assure you.” I feel a strange mixture of relief and irritation knowing that she’s married. The first woman I’ve had any sort of attraction to in a year is married, what luck?!
“So, a handsome man like you must have a girl at home,” she says, continuing the flirting despite the rock she’s flashing. I debate internally the right way to respond. I can tell her I’m single but that would be like Brit never happened. That’s not fair to her memory.
“Widower actually. My wife and son were killed in a car accident last year.” I raise my own hand to show her the ring I still wear.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. No wonder you seem spooked by me.”
“It’s okay. I’m learning to adjust. And I’m not spooked.” I assure her, or myself, not sure which.
“Yeah you are but I get it.”
“Anyway,” I say, turning the conversation to her. “Where’s your husband?”
“Who gives a rat’s ass?” Her nonchalant answer tells me she’s definitely not in a happy marriage.
“Me.”
“Fair enough. Let’s just say he’s all about money and having an attractive woman on his arm. I don’t think it really matters who that woman is. Just happens to be me. The lucky one I guess.”
“Sounds miserable.”
“It’s not Disneyland but it’s not horrible. He doesn’t beat me or anything so ya know that’s good.”
“Yeah, always a bright side I guess.”
We continue talking until our clothes are done. Thankfully we steer away from our relationships or my lack of, and focus on important shit like movies and music. By the time our clothes are done and folded I’ve learned more about her than I know about Robby. She’s easy to talk to. Easy to be around.
“Well, it was nice to meet you, Jase,” she says, her smile lighting up the room.
“Likewise. I suppose you won’t be back next weekend, huh? Your washer being delivered on Monday and all?”
“Never know,” she replies with a wink.
“Hey, let me walk you out. It’s dark and this isn’t the best neighborhood for an attractive woman to be walking alone in.”
“Sure, that would be nice. Thank you.” Grabbing my basket I follow her out.
“That’s me over there.” She points to the car in the middle of the parking lot under the bright street light.
“Smart girl, parked where there’s light.”
“Yeah, well I may have been defeated by a washing machine but I’m not dumb.” She sounds defensive. I don’t want her to feel like I think she’s dumb.
“Never thought you were.” I assure her with a wink. “This is me, one sec.” I hurriedly toss my basket of clothes in the cab of my truck while she waits patiently. Turning back to her, I reach my arms out for her basket.
“What?”
“Let me carry that for you.”
Without question she hands it over with a simple, “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
We walk side by side in silence to her car. It’s not until we reach the vehicle that she asks, “My husband is at some poker game tonight. Won’t be home until the early morning I’m sure. You wanna get a beer with me?”
“You sure? I don’t want to cross any lines.”
“You can’t cross a line that’s not there, Jase.”
“In that case, sure. Let’s get a beer. I know a spot. Follow me?” The words come out more excited than I intended. I don’t want to come off as desperate or too needy. It’s just been a long time since I’ve spent a night with someone whose company I actually enjoy.
“Yeah, sounds good,” she replies smiling. I hand her back her clothes before hustling back to my truck. When I pull out of the parking lot, she’s right behind me.
The drive to the bar is filled with thoughts. I don’t have any idea what the fuck I’m doing. Taking a married girl for drinks is a bad idea. Images of Brit fill my head but this time it’s not only her face I see but Amandas too. I can’t deny the attraction I feel toward her. I’m a first class douche for taking a married woman to a bar, but what kind of man lets his gorgeous wife go to the laundromat on a Saturday night alone? I’d never let Brit do that. Not because I was overbearing with her or there was lack of trust, it’s just not safe. Surely the asshole knows that. I argue with myself over what’s right and what’s wrong. Fuck it. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. I haven’t had this connection with anyone since Brit. She told me that night so long ago to keep living. How am I honoring her memory if I keep on the way I have been?
Thankfully I pull into the bar parking lot, Amanda pulling in right beside me. Any doubts I had quickly diminish when I see her face. I hustle to her car door, opening it for her.
“Awe, such a gentlemen.”
“Always. Come on. It’s nothing fancy here but it’s private.” I would know. I’ve come here nearly every weekend since the accident. All the times I’ve come here, I’ve never run into anyone I know which is what keeps me coming back. It’s dingy, dark, and allows me the solidarity I sometimes need.
“I don’t need fancy, Jase. Just a beer and good company.”
She pats my chest, a gesture that feels both amazing and painful. Realizing how much I’ve missed a woman’s touch is difficult to come to terms with. Pushing the negative thoughts away, I boldly grab her hand. “Well, we’re at the right place. Come on.”
Once inside I find a table in the corner. The place is dead as usual. The lights are dim and you can still smell the faint scent of old cigarettes. A jukebox stands untouched in the corner while some old men spend their paychecks on video poker.
“What are you two having tonight?” the bartender asks. He’s the only one I see in here consistently and while we’ve had some good conversation, I don’t know his name and he doesn’t know mine. Another reason I li
ke this place, anonymity.
“Bud light,” Amanda orders.
“Same.”
“Be right back,” he says, leaving us alone.
“I have to say something before this night keeps going,” she blurts out and I can see worry in her deep brown eyes.
“What’s that?”
“I’m not this kind of girl.” She crosses her arms over her chest as though she’s trying to protect herself.
“Meaning?” I question further.
“I’ve never cheated on my husband.”
“Who said anything about cheating? We’re just two adults having a beer.”
“Jase, listen. I’m attracted to you, and I can tell you’re attracted to me. I don’t know how or why, but it’s happening and before anything else happens, I just want you to know I’m not a whore. I’ve been faithful the last five years while he screws anything and everything. I don’t look for men. I’ve been content being a trophy wife.” The bartender interrupts her with our beers. I wait for him to walk away and for her to take a calming drink before I reply. Jesus, she’s beautiful.
She sets her bottle down, looking at me, waiting for my reply. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on here either. It’s all happening kinda fast. In all honesty, I never thought I could be attracted to anyone after losing my wife. Never had the interest. Didn’t go to that laundromat tonight looking for a woman. I’m a lonely broken man, Amanda, who’s pretty shitty for taking another man’s wife out but I like you. For the first time in a year, I like someone and that someone is you. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to explain it. The last year I’ve reasoned and talked myself out of every little bit of happiness that’s come my way. Tonight though I feel better than I have in a long time so let’s just relax and enjoy each other’s company. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Her arms fall from her chest. Instead she rests her hands on the table, loosening up a little.
“But for the record, I never thought you were that kind of girl but I will tell you what I do think. Your husband is a damn fool. He should be with you right now. Showing you just how special you are. Not giving another man the chance to sweep you off your feet. He’s not doing his job, that’s his loss, Amanda, not yours.”
“You’re right. His loss. Cheers to that.” She lifts her beer to clink with mine.
“Cheers.” I repeat and smile with her.
“Enough of this heavy talk, wanna dance with me?” Again, I’m taking the bold route. If I’m going to swallow my guilt and enjoy this woman, I’m not fucking around.
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. Come on, let’s put something on the jukebox.”
“Okay,” she replies excitedly. I stand from the booth, extending my hand to her which she takes. Together we walk hand in hand to the jukebox and remain with our hands laced together picking out song after song. Once we’ve chosen our money’s worth, I lead her back to the table where we both take a drink as Aerosmith floods the room.
“May I?”
“You may.” Beside our table we stand to dance. Her arms snake around my neck as my own arms wrap around her waist. As our bodies begin to sway to I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing, she cuddles into my hold. Her head rests on my shoulder. Briefly my thoughts wander back to Brit and when we first met. It seems so long ago. My entire life with her and Daniel seem a lifetime away. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I like the way Amanda feels in my arms. Maybe it’s time to let go of the past and embrace my future. Tonight will probably never go further than a one night stand but this one night is exactly what I need to start living again.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Amanda’s head lifts from my shoulder, her dark eyes meet mine and for just this one moment everything feels right.
“Just realizing how good it feels to be close to someone.” I offer her a smile as Steven Tyler’s voice wafts around the room, circling us, singing to us. “What about you?” I ask.
She shrugs slightly. “Same,” is all she says before the last notes of the song fade away. We remain standing, holding one another for a few moments, before sitting back in the booth.
“Is he going to worry about you tonight?” My question catches her off guard but I need to know. I’m not ready to send her back to another man yet. Not ready to let go of the connection we share.
Relief rushes over me when she answers, “No. He doesn’t care what I’m doing or where I am. He’ll probably come stumbling in, drunk off his ass, and pass out in his study where he usually sleeps. I won’t even cross his mind until tomorrow morning.” The sadness in her response isn’t lost on me. I can see how much it hurts her that her husband, the man who vowed to love her and care for her, is nothing but an asshole.
“Good,” I reply, taking a sip from my beer.
“Good?” Her head tips to the side, questioning my word choice.
“Yeah, good because I’m still getting to know you and plan on getting to know as much of you as possible tonight.” I surprise myself with the bold statement. I can only be honest though. Finally I feel alive. Not letting that go yet, not to mention my dick hasn’t been touched by anyone other than me in a year, and Amanda has my jeans feeling uncomfortable. Not that I expect to fuck her. Even if I spend the night jacking off to a vision of her face, it will be more pleasure than I’ve had in so long.
She reaches her hand across the table, grabbing hold of mine. “Wanna get out of here?” Her tongue slowly runs along her lips. Damn she’s sexy.
“Yeah, let me pay for the beers and we’ll get out of here.” Without another word, I hustle to the bar and pay for the beers we drank. When I get back to the booth, she’s already standing, her purse over her shoulder, a shy yet seductive look on her face. “Come on.” Grabbing her hand, I lead her out of the bar. We barely make it to my truck before I pull her close to me and devour the mouth that’s been tempting me all night.
She doesn’t pull away, instead returns the kiss, matching my urgency. My hand slips down her waist to her round ass, squeezing tightly. Damn, she feels good. Tastes good, as the beer and mint gum swirl round my tongue. The thought of her under me, naked, nearly causes me to come undone right there in my fucking Levis.
“Where we going?” she asks breathlessly as our kiss breaks apart. I think for a second. As much as I want her, I can’t take her back to my place. Though I finally feel alive with her, I’m not ready to take a woman, any woman, back to the home I shared with my wife and son. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that. Her place is out of the question. I’m not the kind of guy to screw a girl in my truck, at least not anymore.
“Hotel?” I question feeling like a dick. I don’t want to make her feel like she’s some slut that I wanna bang in a hotel room, I just can’t bring her home. “I’m sorry, I just… my house. It’s just…”
“Shhhh.” Her finger meets my lips. “It’s okay, Jase. I get it. A hotel is perfect.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Let’s go. My car okay here? I’d like to ride with you.”
“Yeah, it should be fine.” Hustling around to the passenger side, I open the door for her, trying to discreetly clean off the seat. Embarrassed by the shit hole that is my truck I turn to her. “Sorry, been a while since I had a female in this beast. Kinda messy.” I run my hand through my hair and shrug in apology.
“I don’t care about a messy truck. Help me in.” She reaches for the door handles while hoisting one foot up on the floor board. Grabbing her waist, I help lift her inside.
“You good?” I ask once she’s seated.
“I’m great.” I can’t help but chuckle at the giddiness in her voice. She and I are from different worlds, there’s no denying it. Seeing her in my truck in her designer clothes is a turn on. Her being so excited to be in my world is nearly orgasmic.
Once she’s in safe, I slam the door and rush to my side to let myself in. She jumps when the truck comes to life, making me laugh. “Sorry, she’s kinda loud.”
�
��Don’t be sorry. I love it. Her.” She corrects herself before she scoots over close to me. Adrenaline pushing me, I tear out of the parking lot, leaving a cloud of smoke behind me. She lets out a squeal of excitement as the truck opens up on the road. It takes all the strength I have not to pull the truck over and screw her until she can’t walk straight. Luckily the hotel I have in mind is only a few miles away. I can keep myself in check that long.
Pulling into the nearly vacant parking lot I hop out of the truck. “I’ll go get us a room. Be right back.”
“I’ll be here.” She assures me. I nearly run to the front office, desperate to get her behind closed doors, in privacy.
“Need a room for two please,” I tell the lady behind the counter as politely as I can, trying to stifle my excitement.
“That’s fifty bucks and I need your license plate number,” she says flatly, engrossed in whatever she’s got playing on the television. I throw a fifty on the counter, rattle off my plate number and wait for the key. The woman begins giving me directions but as soon as the key is in my hand I’m out the door.
Jogging back to the truck, I pull the door open and help Amanda out. “I can’t wait to get you in that room.”
“Which room?” she asks.
I rushed out without listening to the woman. Shit. I glance at the key and am relieved to see #103 carved on it. “103,” I respond, my eyes scanning the building as we walk hand in hand. “103, right here.”
The moment we’re behind the door the urgency takes over again. Our mouths connect, taking what we need of each other between haphazardly throwing our clothes around the room. “I can’t take this slow, Amanda,” I warn. “I feel like a teenager getting his dick wet for the first time.”
“Who said I want things slow. Take me right now, Jase. I’ve been wet since I first laid eyes on you.”
Lifting her off the ground, I push her back to the wall for support. My mouth breaks away from hers, needing to taste more of her. My tongue slides along her throat to the curve of her neck, then finally her breasts. I run my teeth along her nipple causing her legs to tighten around my waist.
Widower (The Laundromat Chonicles Book 4) Page 3
