Better Love

by Daisy Prescott

  Going on instinct, I picked up a flashlight and an airhorn in the garage instead.

  Without putting on shoes, I snuck out the front door and softly closed it behind me.

  “You stay here,” I told the cat. Like most women I knew, she didn’t listen and instead followed behind me.

  While the driveway and the lawn near the garage were illuminated, the rest of my property stayed in the shadows. Moving to the far side of the garage, I stared into the woods where I’d seen the dark outline lumbering toward the house.

  A crack of a branch being stepped on sounded to the left, so I headed to the right to loop around from the back.

  Moving across the lawn into the woods, I regretted being barefoot immediately. Something soft and wet squished beneath my left foot when I stepped over a log. After that, I attempted to hop lightly across the forest floor, never putting my weight on one foot or the other for very long.

  From my new position, I watched the shadow break the tree line near the lawn. My guess proved correct.

  Sound the air raid horns and all the alarms.

  I was under attack by Godzilla.

  Unless giant inflatable lizard costumes were the rage among teenagers and hoodlums, I was certain Roslyn was tromping along the woods of my property.

  I’d never fixed the damn gate. I assumed she’d parked along the road.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned against a tree and waited to see what she had planned.

  She paused at the edge between light and darkness, seeming to debate her next move. Light still illuminated the direct path to the front door. She’d be exposed.

  For a brief second or two, her head faced my tree and I froze. With the limited visibility through the costume and my shadow cover, I doubted she could see me. Still, I held my breath and didn’t move until she turned away.

  Making up her mind, she headed right, down the path to the back of the house facing the water.

  Part of me wished I’d stayed in the house to get the full effect of her prank. However, the larger part couldn’t help but want to foil her attempt at revenge no matter how silly it was.

  I crept around the opposite side of the house. The sun had already set, but the sky retained a blue hue. The deep color reminded me of Roslyn’s eyes.

  Above me the deck squeak.

  Silently and keeping close to the wall, I made my way to the stairs. Her footsteps quietly thumped toward the French doors.

  Avoiding the bottom step that squeaked, I climbed the stairs behind her. At the top, I caught a glimpse of her tail right before she slid the door closed behind herself.

  I knew I’d be exposed between the top of the steps and the door, so I crossed the space as quickly as possible. With my back against the shingles, I peered over my shoulder through the window.

  Godzilla was heading down the hall toward my bedroom.

  I slowly opened the doors and jogged across the open great room on my toes.

  Finally right behind her, I realized I had no plan other than to follow her. As she crept forward, I shadowed her steps a few feet in her wake.

  Imagining what we looked like if anyone was watching us, I clamped my lips shut to stifle the laugh that threatened to spill out of me. Too busy trying not to crack up, I didn’t see her pause and stop.

  My momentum carried me forward into her, tackling her to the ground. I bounced off her inflated lizard body and rolled to the side, howling with laughter as she screamed and wriggled around face down. Kneeling behind her, I tried to lift her up, only to practically hump her as she thrashed around.

  “It’s me,” I wheezed between laughs. “Shh, I’ve got you.”

  “Mmmfuckuashmmhat.” Her words came out all mumbled from the costume.

  “I’m sorry. What was that, Godzilla?” I stood and pulled her up by her tail.

  “I said, ‘fuck you, Asshat.’”

  “Why are you mad? I’m the one that just suffered a home invasion.” I spun her to face me and shoved the head piece away from her head.

  “You ruined my fun. I knew I should’ve waited longer and not given you a head’s up. I worried you’d be in a foul mood over McPhee and I wanted to cheer you up.”

  I kissed her pouted lips, pressing against them until she relented and kissed me back.

  Since we were already in my bedroom, I took advantage of our location and moved us closer to the bed.

  Sweeping my tongue into her mouth and sliding it against hers, I reached behind her to remove the silly costume.

  “You don’t want me to leave it on?”

  I stilled. “Is this a fantasy of yours?”

  She pressed her hand beneath my chin to close my jaw. “No, I just wanted to see your expression.”

  I tackled her to the bed, costume and all, which turned out to be a terrible idea. I couldn’t get close enough to kiss her and her tail kept thrashing around.

  Our laughter turned to cackling and a sound only dogs could hear.

  Shaking, she rolled off the bed and landed with a soft thump on the floor. A low hiss followed. “I think I popped it.”

  “Thank God.” I leaned over the edge of the bed to see a slowly deflating half-lizard, half-Roslyn smiling up at me. “Are you coming back up here or should I come down to you?”

  She scrambled to sit up as I slid off the bed to meet her.

  “I love you, Roslyn Godzilla Porter. I don’t care if you’re half lizard or radioactive, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.” I kissed her thoroughly while removing the silly costume.

  “And I love you, Daniel Not an Asshat Anymore Ashland. Thank you for loving a half-lizard woman who works too much and once upon a time foolishly chose a career and money over love. Forgive me?”

  “Nothing to forgive.” I began undressing her. “Our timing was off before.”

  Once her arms were free, she touched my chest before descending down to my fly. “And now?”

  “Perfect.”

  I might’ve been young enough to enjoy silly antics, but there was no way I’d make love to her on a cold wood floor when a bed was available. I stood and brought her with me.

  We quickly stripped each other of our remaining clothes, kissing and laughing the entire time except when she pulled my T-shirt over my head.

  Our laughter continued to bubble up as I kissed my way down her body and buried my face between her legs.

  “Your beard tickles,” she gasped. Her squirming only encouraged me to tease her more.

  Eventually, she gave up her flailing and let me love her with my mouth.

  Without a doubt, I could happily spend the rest of my life giving her orgasm after orgasm.

  After two, she tugged my hair.

  “Yes, my love?” I kissed her hip, causing her to jerk with an aftershock of pleasure.

  “Make love to me, Dan.”

  “I thought that’s what I’ve been doing down here.” I kissed above her navel. “Maybe I’m not doing it right.”

  “Oh, you know what you’re doing, but I need you inside of me,” she whispered.

  I leaned toward my nightstand where I kept condoms, but her hand on my arm made me pause.

  “I wasn’t kidding about making babies with you.”

  “Are you sure?” I scanned her eyes. “Really?”

  “All in. I stopped taking the pill. My doctor reminded me they’re not good for women over thirty-five anyway. When she mentioned another form of birth control, I realized I don’t want to wait anymore. There’s no guarantee we can actually get pregnant, but I want to try.”

  “Then let’s get to the fun stuff.” I kissed her cheek, then the other one before sucking on her bottom lip as I slowly entered her. With every inch I sank into her velvety warmth I reminded her how much I loved her. Each kiss was a promise of an amazing life together. All of my actions focused on loving her. A single caress carried a vow to love her forever. My kisses mingled with words of devotion.

  This was us in a day.

  We lau
ghed.

  We argued.

  We made up.

  We loved.

  JEFF AND COOP joined me in the kitchen with the rest of my crew for our Monday morning meeting. All eight full and part-time employees, from Curtis the dishwasher to Resi, a single mom in her late thirties, who waitressed for us in the evenings, sat or leaned on the counters, eyes expectantly staring at me.

  Jeff spoke first. “You’re selling, aren’t you?”

  The confidence in his voice that he was right surprised me. “What? No. Why would you assume that?

  Both of them stared at me for a moment or two before Coop spoke. “People talk around here.”

  “Everyone’s buzzing about some big football player interested in opening up a place in Langley that combines pizza and burgers. Bragging about franchising it nationally like he’s going to be the next Colonel Sanders.”

  I loved how gossip mashed up the facts and spit them out as an entirely new beast. “Sal’s is not and never will be franchised. The world doesn’t need another pizza chain.”

  “People have seen McPhee on the island.”

  “He has a house here.”

  “The big place with the basketball court down on Mutiny Bay?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I thought he wanted to put a Mac Burger on First Street.”

  “Never going to happen.”

  “Instead he’s buying Sal’s?”

  “Sal’s isn’t for sale. I’d burn it to the ground myself rather than sell out.”

  Jeff coughed.

  Coop appeared worried. “You wouldn’t really commit arson, would you?”

  “No, Cooper, I wouldn’t. I meant figuratively. However, I have a better alternative.”

  “What’s the plan, boss?

  “The free pizza on Fridays has been a success, much in thanks to all of you. It’s had me thinking about other ways we can help the community, starting with our little Sal’s family. As of next month, I’m restructuring the business.”

  “Will we keep our jobs?” Jeff asked.

  “They were never in jeopardy. In fact, I’m going to make all of you part owners. You’ll have shares of the business based on seniority and years worked after a vesting period.”

  “This mean we’ll get bonuses?” Resi asked excitedly. As a single mom, she worked here as a second job. A few gray strands streaked her dark hair. If anyone needed a bonus, and deserved a little extra for once, it was Resi.

  “Bonuses, dividends, and a bigger say in what we do with Sal’s,” I replied.

  “Are you going to hire more people?” Curtis, a recent high school graduate with black hair and a pierced septum, never spoke and it was strange to hear his voice.

  “A few, but I want to keep us small and nimble.”

  “And everyone is a part owner? Like a co-op?” Resi asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “Sounds very hippie anti-big business,” Jeff said.

  “Isn’t it awesome?” Grinning, I held up my hands for high fives from both of them. “One other bit of news.”

  “You’re getting married?” Coop asked.

  My head jerked back.

  Jeff slapped his shoulder.

  “No, why would you think that?” I asked.

  I didn’t discuss my personal life with the guys. We didn’t share that kind of stuff. I knew Jeff was married and Coop still dated his high school girlfriend. Other than knowing their names and recognizing the women in a crowd, I didn’t know anything more. Nor did I need to.

  “I was joking.” Coop chuckled at his own inside joke. “You getting married is hysterical. You’re The Old Man and the Sea.”

  “I’m not that old.”

  “Yeah, but you’re set in your ways like Olaf Olsen.”

  I lowered my brows and stared at Coop.

  “Coop, shut up,” Jeff muttered and elbowed him.

  “Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I have no immediate plans to get married. Or sell the business. Everyone clear?” No one else interrupted me. Probably because I’d raised my voice. “Good. Now because Coop brought up Olaf, I’ll share the other news. As you know, he’s been having some heart trouble and needs to cut back at the Dog House. He and I came to an agreement and designed a solution with some of the other local restaurants. We’re going to take over operations of the tavern as a collective.”

  “What’s that mean?” Jeff asked.

  “It’ll still be a bar, but we’re going to turn it into a tap room for some of the local wineries, breweries, and distilleries. Local chefs will create signature dishes for the back room. Kind of a best of Whidbey pop up until he’s back on his feet. Or, if it takes off and becomes a permanent thing, we’ll look into moving it across the street. Maybe figure out a way to funnel some of the profits back into community organizations.”

  I left out the details about my foundation being part of the plan. We needed to work out the legalities and tax implications before I could officially announce the foundation.

  “Are you going to keep the pool table?” Curtis asked. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak in a single day.

  “Nothing’s going to change up front. The kitchen is going to need to be updated, but we’re thinking of handling that like a catering kitchen. Food will get prepped off site and brought in daily.”

  “Can you update the women’s room? That single bulb above the sinks and black walls are a little creepy.” Resi added her opinion.

  “We’ll look into it. Anything else?” I made a point to meet everyone’s gaze. “If not, come to me later with suggestions or ideas.”

  I had one weekend to finish Roslyn’s Valentine’s gift. While she was in LA setting up a group of athlete clients with a new agency, I slaved away doing hard labor. Over the past few months, she’d commented several times about my lack of an outdoor fireplace and how nice it would be to sit outside enjoying the view without freezing at night.

  “You’re an idiot,” Carter declared with a snort as he wiped his brow.

  “Thanks.” I lifted another heavy stone from the bed of the Gator.

  “No, seriously.”

  “Takes one to know one?” I dumped some smaller rocks near the end of the finished section of the fire pit on the lawn overlooking the bluff. For all the hours we’d been building it, the fire-pit should’ve rivaled the pyramids in Egypt or Stonehenge. At barely two feet tall, it didn’t look as impressive as the time and labor required to finish it. Comprised of a centralized circle of flat stones for the fire surrounded by a half-circle stone bench, this project was a labor of love. Or back-breaking stupidity.

  “I’m not talking about building your stone monument. Although you could’ve hired a crew to do this. It would’ve been done in a couple of hours and you’d still be able to walk tomorrow.”

  “My back is fine. I want to do it myself so when I see it I can know I built something more lasting than lunch or dinner.”

  “I get it. Every week I do the same work, mowing lawns and landscaping. I’m like that Greek guy with his stone.” He lifted a large stone over his head a few times in a feat of youthful strength.

  “So what are you going to do to make your mark?”

  “Goats.”

  “Care to elaborate?” I fit a smaller rock into a crevice.

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. You can be my first customer.”

  I did not like the sound of that. “What are you doing with these goats?”

  “Landscaping. Actually, more like anti-landscaping. Using them to clear blackberries and nettles. Hell, they’ll clear out pretty much anything if you give them access.”

  “I have a ton of nettles along the bluff path. How do you keep them from wandering off or following each other over the edge?”

  “I pen or tether them and then let ’em do their thing. When the area is clear, I move the pen to the next location. Or come and pick them up.”

  “Your business model is rent a goat?” I dropped a stone and it la
nded an inch from my boot.

  “Pretty cool, huh? I don’t even have to feed them unless they’re not working. Tom’s helping me build a special kennel for the back of my truck. I can haul six goats on the flatbed. Have goats, will travel.”

  “Gotta give it to you, it’s an original business idea.” I was impressed.

  “All the brambles and nettles on this island will keep me in business for years. Plus, I can breed my own workforce.” Delight twinkled in his eyes.

  “That sounds oddly disturbing.” I wiped my brow with the back of my hand.

  “So you’ll be my first customer? I can set up the pens to clear those nettles for you. If you’re satisfied, you can tell a friend.”

  We chatted about business plans and strategies. The only goats I’d ever worked with had been involved in producing goat cheese for pizza. I admitted I was curious about his crazy scheme.

  I stopped working and asked, “Do you need investors?”

  “You’d be interested? My dad’s going to help out with working the job sites.”

  “How’s he doing?” I set a flat stone on the top of the fire pit.

  Sadness and concern clouded Carter’s normally sunny expression. “Seems to be on the wagon more than he’s been in years. I’m cautiously optimistic he’ll stay sober this time around.”

  “Glad to hear it. Something positive to focus on might help him out a lot. Keep me posted on how things are going.”

  After placing all of the rocks, we stood back to admire the completed fire-pit. “Why’d you call me an idiot earlier?”

  “Heard some gossip about you and Ros.”

  “You and Erik hanging around gossiping about me with Sally, Connie, and Sandy these days?”

  “No, but I did ask Cari about Ros. She told me you’d been circling, but hadn’t sealed the deal yet. That’s why you’re an idiot.”

  I let his words process for a minute. “Why were you asking Cari about Roslyn?”

  “I was thinking about asking her out after we danced together at the wedding. She’s hot and has her shit together.”

  “Well, you can stop thinking about asking her out. She’s taken.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Permanently off of the market.”