Perfect Little Plan

by Jennifer Miller

  I laugh, “A few drinks, for sure.”

  He smiles and turns to the hostess when she comes back from seating another couple. They exchange a few words, and then Rixton grabs my hand and begins leading me through the room. The peanut shells crunch under our feet as we walk. When we reach the back of the restaurant, large open doors leading outside welcome us. Passing through, I see many tables await guests in an open air environment. The hostess seats us and hands us menus.

  “Your waitress will be here in a few minutes.”

  “Thank you,” we both respond. Before I open the menu, my attention is captured by a warm, clear twinkle light background and several fire pits surrounding the tables; the flames within licking the air in a beautiful dance. Some people are roasting marshmallows over the pits. It looks like fun. And the ambiance is pleasant.

  To the side, there is a large dance floor and what I’m assuming must be live music, if the instruments set up on the stage are any indication. The musicians must be taking a break at the moment, because other than the constant stream of chatter, and the crackling from the fires, there’s no music.

  I look back at Rixton and find him watching me. I hurriedly regard the menu. “So what would you suggest?”

  “Well, I’ve only been here once before with Luke, but they are known for excellent steaks and steak burgers.” His eyes alight with mischief. “Hopefully that’s something that is in your diet?”

  I look at him over the top of my menu, “What are you trying to say?”

  “Only that you look like a wine, cheese, and grapes kind of woman. Either before or after the caviar.”

  “If you thought that was true, then why bring me here?”

  “Maybe I wanted to see how you’d fare.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “No, not really,” he leans toward me and lowers his voice, “I just want to see you on the tractor.” He laughs and I join him, loving the sound. When our waitress, Missy, comes to our table, we order beers and burgers. Rixton raises his eyebrows when I order a burger loaded with everything with a side of French fries, but doesn’t say a word.

  “Do you miss it?”

  His brows lower at my question and he scratches his nose, “Miss what?”

  “Texas.”

  A smile slowly spreads across his face and his eyes take on a faraway look for a minute before he focuses back on me. “Yes. I miss the sunrises, my horse Gunnar, and of course, my family. I miss how it feels after a day of hard, purposeful labor and having a home cooked meal in my belly at the end of every night.”

  “Luke told me that the two of you met in college. I’m surprised you went from Texas to Illinois, and then back again. I guess I’m surprised you returned to Texas so quickly.”

  “To work on a farm you mean?”

  “Well, I guess, but I don’t know what brought you to college in Illinois in the first place.”

  “A few things. Like many people that age, I wanted to get away from home. I didn’t want to stay local, I wanted to escape, and the University of Illinois was one of the colleges that accepted me. Plus, I always wanted to visit Chicago. When I visited the campus and drove into Chicago afterwards, I was sold. Luke and I met my sophomore year in college when he transferred in from Loyola.”

  “If you loved it here so much, then why go back to Texas after you graduated?”

  “I didn’t graduate.”

  Before he can elaborate, our waitress returns again, this time with our drinks. She places them before us and says our food will be out soon. I look down and can’t help but stare momentarily at the red plastic solo cups. Of course. Rixton looks at me with a raised eyebrow and suddenly it hits me – this whole date night is more than him just seeing how I’d fare, it’s a test. Does he think I’m some stuck-up bitch or something? And if so, why even ask me out? For a moment, I can’t decide what to do. Should I be the prissy bitch he thinks I am, or should I be myself? I may come from money, but he’s assuming I’m a snob. I don’t get him, but I’m not going to take the bait – I’m being myself all the way. He can take it or leave it, the ass.

  I pick up my cup and take a big gulp, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand when I’m done. Smirking at the look of surprise on his face, I pick my drink back up in the gesture of a toast. He toasts me back as well with a smile on his face.

  “So, how come you didn’t graduate?” His smile instantly falls off his face and I almost feel bad for bringing our conversation back up. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

  He makes a shooing gesture with his hand, “No, it’s okay. I ended up withdrawing from college because my dad ended up getting sick and my mom needed my help at the ranch. I have two brothers, one that still lives there, but it was too much for him to handle on his own.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope your dad is doing better now.”

  “Actually, he passed away almost a year ago.”

  “Oh hell, Rixton. I’m so sorry.”

  His smile is sad. “Me too. He was a great man and I miss him a lot.”

  My heart aches at the look on his face, “Your mom, is she doing okay?”

  “She’s taking it one day at a time. My older brother and his wife ended up moving into the guesthouse, so she’s got two sons and my nephew, Tyler, to keep her busy and happy. She loves having them there.”

  “I bet she misses you, though. Was it hard for her to see you move away again?”

  “It was, but she understands. I love it there, but this is where I need to be.”

  Missy returns to the table with our burgers and places them before us. The portions are huge. She asks if we need anything else and we simultaneously shake our heads no. We start eating in companionable silence. The food is really good. I don’t realize how hungry I am until I begin eating.

  Rixton wipes his mouth on a napkin, takes a drink and then looks at me, “Food good?”

  “Yes. Definitely one of the best burgers I’ve ever had.”

  “Good. So enough about me, tell me your story.”

  I set my burger down and wipe my hands on my napkin, “Hm, there isn’t really much to tell.”

  “Sure there is. I know you’ve known Olivia for a long time. And Luke and I kept in touch, so I know all about their history. How are you doing after Olivia’s ex intruded into your life?”

  My heart starts beating faster at the thought. Deacon is not a subject I like to think about often. Olivia’s ex-husband was an abusive asshole that didn’t deal well with their divorce. After tying me up and holding me hostage in my own condo, he kidnapped Olivia. We went crazy with worry during her absence, and I still have nightmares sometimes over the whole experience.

  “Doing better, taking it day by day. Frankly, therapy helped. That was an experience that took some help dealing with.”

  “I’m sure. Luke said he’s still awaiting trial but is locked up until then.”

  I nod, “Yes and thank God for that.”

  “And you own your own spa?”

  I laugh, “Why are you asking about me if you already know everything?”

  Chuckling, he dips a fry in ketchup, “I just know the gist, but of course I asked Luke for the deets on you!”

  “Well you are correct, I’ve had Shimmer & Soothe Salon and Spa since I graduated from college, and have been running it ever since.”

  “Wow, that’s quite an accomplishment right out of college to own your own business.”

  “You are correct, but I can’t take all the credit. The spa was a very surprising gift from my father. He bought the space, I designed it and run it.”

  Rixton’s eyes widen, “Whoa. That’s some graduation gift.”

  “Believe me, I know. My father has a tendency to always go overboard. I’ve learned to deal with his generosity because he’s going to do it whether I want him to or not.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “It is, and I appreciate it very much. But, as they say, nothing in life is free, so it also came with certain strings. I k
now he doesn’t mean it in a manipulative sort of way. I don’t expect it, nor do I take it for granted. But, there isn’t anything he can ask of me, that I wouldn’t give in return. It’s hard sometimes to know how to repay his kindness. So, I work really hard to keep the spa in the black. The first year was tough, but I refused to ask for help. I wanted to do it on my own.”

  The band has started playing and I have to raise my voice to be heard over it, but it isn’t horrible, like a night club where you have to scream in the person’s ear to be heard. “I figure my success is another way to honor his gift. I want very much to make him proud of me.”

  “I can imagine that he is very proud of you.”

  “Well, I certainly hope so.”

  “That’s great that your business is doing so well. I would love to come by and see it some time.”

  “I’ll give you my card. You should schedule a massage.” I know that isn’t exactly what he meant, but he really should get a treatment – I mean I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t suggest it.

  “Mmm, will you be the masseuse? I mean, darlin’ if you want me naked under a sheet again, all you have to do is ask. Massage not mandatory.”

  “Ha. Ha.” I roll my eyes at him, but really the thought of all that long and lean muscle naked flashes through my mind, making me feel heat that has nothing to do with the fire pit that’s close to our table. Who would blame me though? The man is freaking built.

  His smile widens as if he knows what just went through my mind, the cocky bastard. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl eat like you do?”

  My brow furrows, “What do you mean?” I look down at my nearly empty plate.

  “I like that you aren’t afraid to eat on a date. I hate chicks that order salads and pick at their food.”

  “Oh no, that’s not me. In fact, I was thinking we should find out where everyone got those marshmallows. Roasting them would be fun. And who can resist their sweet taste? Though s’mores might be even better.”

  He signals to our waitress and orders just that, then turns back to me, “They are on the menu. Your wish is my command.”

  “Oh, that’s dangerous. You may be sorry you said that.”

  His eyes twinkle, “I seriously doubt that.”

  A busboy takes our empty plates and Rixton leans toward me, “Want to go dance while we wait for our s’mores kit to arrive?”

  I look at the dance floor and once again take in everyone and what they are wearing, and then look down at myself. “Well, I didn’t exactly dress the part for line dancing or whatever that is they’re doing. Someone didn’t tell me jeans would be a good idea.”

  He raises his eyebrows in pure challenge, “Wow, I’m surprised at you. I didn’t think you would let something like a dress and heels get in your way.”

  I stare at him, taking in his smirking face and devilish grin. I don’t know what he expects me to do here and I don’t care. Fact is, he’s right. I stand up, and stare at him as I take off my shoes. “Let’s go.”

  He laughs, stands and takes my hand leading me to the dance floor. I try to follow along and do the line dancing steps they are doing. I pick it up after a few tries and Rixton? Hell the man moves like he has sex. Sinfully.

  A slow song begins and Rixton wordlessly takes me into his arms, keeping a little bit of distance between us. The distance is just enough to make our bodies brush against each other now and then as we move. His thighs bump against mine, and my breasts graze his chest. The subtle contact makes me breathe faster, and my body temperature starts to rise with the need to be closer. I step into him, pressing my body to his. We fit together like puzzle pieces – made to be connected.

  He feels good. Nothing else exists but the two of us. My head on his shoulder, one of his hands at my waist, the other wrapped around the nape of my neck as if he’s staking a claim. I close my eyes and enjoy the moment of pure peace. There’s a soft wind in the air and it rustles my hair and feels like a cool whisper on my heated skin. I make myself let go of thoughts of what’s right for me, and what isn’t. I let go of thinking about what would make my parents happy, versus what I truly want. I let go of the worry that I’m leading Rixton on, regardless of my true feelings of wanting to see where this could lead. Somewhere, in the middle of chaos, I get lost in the simple pleasure of not feeling alone. Of feeling safe and cared for. Surprisingly, after letting go of all of the things that I thought make up who I am – I still find me.

  MAKING OUR WAY OFF THE DANCE floor, Rixton holds onto my hand. When we return to our table, we find our s’mores kit waiting for us. I slip my shoes back on and we head over to one of the unoccupied fire pits. There are chairs surrounding it and we pull ours closer to each other.

  Rixton laughs as we roast our dessert because I keep burning my marshmallows. “Another one?”

  “Dammit, that’s like the third one.” Trying to remove my marshmallow far too soon from the poker, I shake out my hand trying to ease the pain from my burning fingertips. My fingers are now burned and chocolaty.

  Reaching for my hand, then putting my fingers one at a time in his mouth, both soothing the burn and eliminating the messiness, Rixton laughs, “Do you know how to cook at all?”

  “Does pasta count?”

  “Um, no.”

  “Oh! I can work the grill. You know, burgers and steaks! Bam! Why don’t I have one of those kiss the cook aprons? I should get one.”

  He laughs and takes my hand that’s holding the poker and puts a new marshmallow on the end. He keeps his hand over mine as we hold it over the flame. “I’m going to show you the proper way to roast marshmallows. The key is to turn it so you create a shield around the gooey center.”

  “Wow, I had no idea there was such a science to this.”

  “It’s a good thing you met me. Think of all the marshmallow lives we are saving.”

  It’s cheesy but I laugh, pull my marshmallow out of the fire and blow on it to cool it down. I look at Rixton to see how his is fairing and catch him looking at me. Actually, he’s looking at my mouth. I involuntarily lick my lips in response, and I can’t be sure if it’s heat I see enter his eyes, or just the reflection from the fire.

  “Oh shit!” He pulls his marshmallow away from the pit to find that it actually caught on fire.

  “I thought you were a professional! Marshmallow killer!” I happily take a bite of mine, plain and yummy, and moan, attempting to tease him. “Oh! You should be jealous. It’s soooo good. Too bad you burned yours.” I lick my fingers slowly, trying to get the stickiness off and look over at Rixton, ready to tease him a bit more, only to find him watching me again. He stares at me for a moment, then reaches out and brushes what must be marshmallow out of the corner of my mouth. He brings his finger to his mouth, and keeping his eyes locked on mine, he licks his finger. The act feels shockingly intimate and before I realize what I’m doing, I lean forward, making my intent to kiss him clear.

  His mouth closes over mine without hesitation, and his tongue is at the seam of my mouth immediately, begging entrance. I open for him and then moan softly as his tongue brushes mine as he licks deeply inside my mouth. Rixton is an amazing kisser and I could easily get addicted to his kisses. He cups my face in his hands, pulls away, biting my lip gently, then smiles at me. I can’t help but smile back, his happiness is addicting.

  “You ready to get out of here, darlin’?” He emphasizes his drawl, his voice sounding full of promise.

  “Yes, definitely.”

  The angel on my shoulder starts telling me that what I’m thinking isn’t right. I shouldn’t have Rixton over like I’m intending. I need to calm the hormones and kiss him goodnight, thank him for the evening and go inside with him on the other side of the door. It isn’t right to lead him on.

  The devil on my opposite shoulder has me relive the kiss we just shared over and over, and the ones we shared before that. I again feel his mouth on my fingers and feel his fingers stroking my cheek. My mind flashes back to our night togethe
r, and I see his hands trailing the contours of my body exploring. I remember the feel of his lips and tongue all over me from head to toe. Remembering his ability to communicate that he obviously knows his way over a woman’s body makes me shudder. He knew just when to bring me high, and how to keep me there, drawing out the feeling until I couldn’t take it anymore. I once again hear our breathless sighs, our heated moans, and gasps of pleasure. Right then I decide the devil on my shoulder is smart as hell, and I give the angel on the other side a kick in the ass.

  As soon as Rixton pays the bill I’m ready to go. He walks me to the door of the restaurant and then without forewarning, jumps in front of me and throws me over his shoulder, causing me to laugh in unending giggles all the way back to his truck. We make small talk as we drive back to my place. We talk about everything; about our favorite color – his red, mine yellow, to our favorite time of year – his spring, mine autumn.

  When we reach my building I immediately ask, “Do you want to come up for a bit?”

  He looks at me in surprise. “Well I was going to park and escort you up to your door, but I could stand to come in for a drink, or to just hang out a little bit more.”

  “Great, I’d like that.” I look down, feeling shy, but confident in my decision to ask him in.

  He parks his truck, helps me out and we walk to the elevator, each of us glancing at the other out of the corner of our eyes. I smile to myself, liking the way my stomach flutters and my heart races. As soon as the doors to the elevator close behind us, we make eye contact. I don’t know who moves first, but suddenly we are on each other. Our lips fuse together hard, seeking and demanding. My hands move up his shirt and I groan at the feel of his firm stomach and chest. His hands are buried in my hair, slightly pulling, putting my head where he wants it so he can easily devour my lips. I move my hands to his back and run them up, while his hands go down to my ass, pulling me closer – fusing my hips with his. I can feel his excitement and it only serves to enhance mine.

  When we reach my floor the loud ding makes us break apart with a laugh. We practically race to my door, hands entwined. Laughing and anxious to get inside, I quickly unlock the door, turn off the alarm and decide I don’t want to play games. No watching TV until things heat up on the couch, no getting a drink and waiting until the sexual tension is unbearable. No. We are both adults and it’s obvious what we both want. I lock the front door behind us, grab Rixton’s hand, and lead him into my bedroom.