Perfect Little Plan

by Jennifer Miller

  “You sure about this, Red? I can’t promise I won’t leave something here again,” he teases me while his hands run up and down my arms, making me break out in goose bumps.

  “I don’t want to dissect this okay? For once, I just want to act impulsively.”

  He pulls back and looks at me, smirk on his face. “Okay fine. I want to act impulsively again, okay? I want to go with what I’m feeling. It’s nice to not have it all thought out first. Is that so bad? I’m being spontaneous here.”

  His grin turns wickedly hot, “I’m not complaining.”

  I shut my bedroom door and when I turn around, he grabs me by my arms and pushes me against it, attacking my mouth again. I groan at the feeling and then boldly reach behind him and grab his ass, this time pulling him to me. He groans when our bodies touch, and I gasp from the feeling. He takes my breath as his own and sweeps his tongue in my mouth before pulling away to look at me. “God, I want you.”

  “Then stop talking. More doing.” He chuckles at my words, but it quickly dies as I begin unbuttoning his shirt. I remove it in record time and throw it on the floor, not caring where it lands. He’s pulling on the zipper at my back, and moves it down at a pace so slow I want to scream. I just want to feel my bare skin against his. I push him away from me a little and attack his belt, wanting to release him from his pants. I make a sound of triumph when I get him unbuckled, his zipper down and thrust my hand down his briefs. I revel in the sound he makes when I stroke him and watch as he throws his head back and swallows hard.

  He pushes my dress off my shoulders and it falls to the ground. Just as I start to use my other hand to pull his pants off his hips, I’m startled when I feel a buzzing sound at his front pocket. I pull away, “What is that?”

  He stares at me, eyes half-mast and full of lust, desire and need as he eloquently asks, “Huh?”

  I giggle but it’s drowned out when music that I can’t decipher starts blaring from his pocket while continuing its buzzing at the same time. Clarity comes to him, and he pulls his phone from his pocket, but his eyes are on me. Assuming he’s going to toss it aside, I walk over to my bed, reach behind me and unfasten my bra, letting it fall to the floor. I can’t mistake the undeniable heat in Rixton’s beautiful eyes as they rake over my skin. His phone stops ringing and he takes a step toward me, groaning in want as I hook my fingers in my panties, ready to pull them down my legs. He stops when his phone starts ringing and buzzing again. He glances at it in frustration, and his face freezes as he looks at the screen.

  “Excuse me, Red. I have to take this.”

  My mouth drops open. “Seriously?”

  “I’m sorry, I have to. Just a second.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration as he says, “Hello?” Immediately his brows furrow and a concerned look comes over his face. Whatever it is he’s hearing on the other end must not be good. “Okay. It’s okay. No. No, you’re not bothering me. I understand. I’m glad you called. Yes, you should have called. I’ll be right there. I already said it’s okay.” His eyes flicker too briefly, “No, nothing important. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes tops. Okay, bye.”

  His comment “nothing important” burns my stomach, even though I don’t know for sure what he’s referring to. His look however makes me certain it’s me. He obviously doesn’t want someone to know he’s with me. I look at him in disbelief, anger and confusion.

  “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

  “Okay,” I draw out the word because I’m feeling at a loss for words. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yeah, fine,” he replies shortly.

  “It didn’t sound fine,” I push.

  “It will be.”

  “Do you need me to come with you?” I grab my bra and hurriedly put it back on in case he needs just that.

  “No!” His fierceness startles me. He doesn’t make eye contact as he quickly puts on his shirt and buckles his belt. I briskly walk to my closet, grab my robe off the back of the door, and cover myself, suddenly feeling very exposed in only my bra and panties. He barely spares me a look before he’s moving toward my bedroom door and opening it. He looks over his shoulder briefly, “I will call you later, okay?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

  Left alone in my room, I pause for a moment in utter confusion. By the time I get down the hallway and look toward the front door, he’s already unlocked it. Stepping out into the hallway, he closes the door with a soft click, not even sparing a look behind him. I approach the door, turn the lock, and set the alarm. Leaning against the door, I try to understand what just happened. That was… odd. He obviously didn’t want to tell me what that was all about and for some reason that hurts.

  I feel a little like a tennis ball. My emotions have whacked back and forth all night long and it has left me feeling out of sorts. I was determined to go on a date with him because he wouldn’t leave me alone about it. Even if I felt torn, knowing that he is not the type I’m seeking. But, once with him, I relaxed and really had fun. I was even able to let go and just be. Sighing, I feel frustrated with myself. This is just a casual thing that isn’t going anywhere anyway. I know that. So, why do I feel so hurt? And why am I not able to just be concerned with him, and for him, and whatever the crisis was? Am I that selfish? What is going on with me?

  “SO HE JUST LEFT? WITHOUT GIVING you a kiss, or even commenting on the night? Without so much as a brief explanation?” Olivia is just as surprised as I am by Rixton’s strange behavior.

  When she called me this morning asking if I could go to her gown fitting and bridesmaid dress shopping with her, I gladly accepted. Not only was I excited to see her in her gown, but I was hoping it would distract me from thinking about Rixton. I should have known better.

  We started out visiting a nearby florist so Olivia could see samples of their work. She’s having trouble deciding between two and thought additional visits to their stores would help her decide. We’d barely left the shop before she was asking me for details about the date. I love her because she didn’t even blink twice when I told her I had invited Rixton up to my place and we started getting hot and heavy again. Not for the first time I realize how lucky I am to have her in my life and what a treasure of a friend she truly is.

  She’s standing before me and I’m almost breathless at the sight. On a platform in front of a three-way mirror, she’s adorned in her one-shouldered wedding gown and beautiful bridal shoes. The gown is made for her – formfitting to about mid-thigh it showcases her curves and small waist perfectly, until it flares out just a little on the bottom. There is an overlay of lace over the whole gown, but it becomes transparent at the top of her breast and hugs over her left shoulder until it meets the top of her gown again at her back. A champagne sash ties around her waist to complete the look. It’s gorgeous and couldn’t be more perfect. She is simply a vision. I can’t even imagine what she will look like on her actual wedding day if she is this gorgeous at a simple fitting without makeup or her hair styled.

  “Sorry, first things first, you know you have to do an up-do with this dress right? To show off your shoulders, collarbone and the lace over your shoulder.”

  Olivia smiles and holds up her hair, turning her head back and forth while looking in the mirror. “That’s what I was thinking too.”

  The three-way mirror she stands before projects her image from all angles. Luke would be in heaven. The seamstress at her feet works quickly going around the bottom of the dress, pinning where her gown needs to be a little higher, just a whisper away from touching the ground.

  “Back to Rixton, yes, he just left without an explanation. I tried to ask him if everything was okay, but he told me it was fine. He seriously couldn’t get out of there fast enough. And his behavior – I don’t know – it was this odd mix of concern and annoyance or irritation…it was really hard to read. ” I shrug feeling at a loss.

  Olivia drops her hair and gives me a look of sympathy, “I can ask Luke if he knows anything if you want me to.”


  “No, please don’t do that. If he had wanted me to know, he would have told me. I don’t want to invade his privacy through Luke.” I sigh, “It was just really odd. And he didn’t call me later or this morning to say that things were okay or to apologize for leaving so abruptly or anything.” I shrug again, then stand and pace back and forth a little bit, feeling annoyed with myself. “At the same time, why do I even care? He doesn’t owe me anything. And, not only is it not my business, I don’t really know him all that well anyway. So why does it matter and why is it bothering me?”

  Olivia frowns at me, “Is that a rhetorical question, because you and I both know why. I don’t understand why you are asking the question or pretending that you shouldn’t care.”

  I stand still and look at her, feeling exasperated, “Well then, miss smarty pants, tell me, why it matters.”

  Olivia rolls her eyes at me, “Because you like him. Duh.”

  “Yes. I like him. I’m attracted to him. In an I-want-to-constantly-hump-his-leg kind of way.” Olivia laughs. “Truth is, I would love to have a no strings attached, hang out with him until Mr. Right comes along kind of relationship with him, but that’s it.”

  Olivia sighs, “Oh, here we go with this again. And please tell me, you red-headed brat, how it is you know that Rixton isn’t your Mr. Right?”

  I laugh. Loudly. “Oh please. Rixton is no more my Mr. Right than I’m a champion bull wrangler.”

  “Now that I would like to see.”

  “Ha. Ha. You know what I mean. Anyway, his running last night was probably for the best, I guess.”

  “Whatever you say,” the seamstress looks up at Olivia and they grin at each other. It’s like one big conspiracy. I want to pull their hair like a six-year-old having a tantrum.

  “You and I both know this isn’t going anywhere. Rixton is a fun distraction. That’s all.”

  “Are you sure about that Pyper?”

  “Yes, of course. Liv, come on seriously. Can you see me bringing Rixton home to meet my mom? My dad? You, of all people, know how ridiculous that would be.”

  “I think you are underestimating just how much your parents want you to be happy. That is all they care about.”

  “Yeah, right. I get why you think that. And it’s true, they may not have ever come out and said the type of man they expect me to be with, but the men they’ve tried to set me up with are an example of their expectations. The sons of the men my dad works with, or the guys my mom has introduced me to at the country club, make their expectations and standards pretty clear.”

  “Did you ever consider that maybe it’s because that’s the kind of guy they’ve seen you date and so they assume that’s what you want? I mean my God, Pyper, have you ever talked to them about it to verify your presumptions?”

  I scoff at the suggestion, “Of course not. Why upset them? I mean, really, it’s so obvious and I guess their expectations aren’t really all that bad. For example, I have to go to the country club tomorrow night in order to entertain the son of one of my dad’s business associates. I’m meeting him there for dinner.”

  “What? How did that happen? Is it like a blind date or something?”

  “No, not a blind date. I actually met him at dinner with my folks the other day.”

  “Dinner with the folks and I wasn’t invited? What the hell? It’s been a while. I could seriously go for some of Mrs. B’s homemade rolls and honey butter. Then again, I should probably stay away. I can’t afford to gain weight and then need Debbie here to take out my dress.”

  “Oh please. You could afford a few pounds. You still haven’t gained back all the weight you lost a year ago.”

  Olivia gives me a look, “I’m doing much better, but you’ve convinced me. Not that it was very hard.”

  Sitting back down, I cross my legs and try to calm my racing mind. “We will plan it. My mom will be thrilled. Anyway, when I got to dinner they had guests I wasn’t expecting. A man my dad works with and his son, R.J. Right in front of them my dad suggests we go to dinner at the club. It wasn’t like I could say no. I mean, he was needing to do something with the father and needed someone to entertain the son during that time, so I was, of course, the obvious choice.”

  “I get it, you were put on the spot. What I don’t get is why you said yes; why you didn’t say you had a conflict or why you didn’t speak to your dad privately later and tell him that wasn’t okay. You didn’t do that, did you?”

  “Well, no, but you know that’s not an easy thing for me to do. He always does stuff for me. I have a hard time not doing little things for him now and again. Or telling him no. Besides, it makes him happy when I just go with whatever he wants.”

  It bothers me that Olivia is shaking her head at me like she’s so disappointed. “It’s still your life and you need to live it the way you want to. Not the way you think you are expected to.” Debbie, the seamstress, stands up with pins in her mouth and I wonder how she isn’t scared to do that. I would be afraid I would swallow them. Or what if someone accidentally bumped into her or she fell or something? Game over. She gathers the material at Olivia’s back and starts pinning the places where the dress needs to be taken in.

  “Oh boy, I know you laugh but I really do need to make sure I keep my weight in check. Maybe I should rethink dinner at your parent’s place after all. I’ve been nervous eating like crazy. You don’t even know!”

  I laugh at the thought of Olivia stuffing her face with chocolates. Though, come to think of it, Luke probably hand feeds them to her. In bed. He could care less what she weighs, he just loves her. I’m totally jealous, but the image that presents in my mind makes me laugh out loud.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I was just thinking that Luke probably hand feeds you chocolates.”

  She puts a finger to her chin, “Hmm, he hasn’t but I’m thinking he could be persuaded to do just that.” She smiles wickedly and it’s clear she’s got dirty thoughts running through her mind.

  “Oh please. Spare me the details.”

  I’m left to my own thoughts while Olivia starts telling a bridal consultant what kind of bridesmaid dresses she has in mind so they can start bringing in samples for her to look at.

  I wish this stuff with Rixton wasn’t bothering me. I feel like an idiot that it’s getting to me so much. We had one night together. That certainly doesn’t mean I have some claim to him or have a right to anything but what we shared – and that was certainly limited. For some reason though, I can’t get him out of my mind. I’ve never had a one-night-stand before. Ever. I certainly was no virgin, but usually I have to date a guy for a little while before I give it up to him. The fact that I just hooked up with Rixton without thinking first is pretty crazy. It’s like he’s mesmerized me with his golden eyes and Texas drawl. Those things combined make me not able to think straight when he’s around. All my rational thoughts go out the window.

  Thoughts of him have consumed my mind since our night together, and it’s gotten even worse since our date. I really hadn’t expected to invite him into my life. In fact, I told myself I wouldn’t do it, no matter what. I just find that I can’t get enough.

  “You sooo like him, don’t you?”

  It takes me a minute to realize Olivia was talking to me again, “Like who?”

  “You know who. Rixton.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I can tell you’re thinking about him right now. It’s all over your face.”

  I groan, stalling, deciding how honest I want to be, but then the fact that I can tell her anything and I know she never judges me wins. “Fine. Yes, I like him. I don’t know why and it doesn’t matter, I guess. I’ve decided that I should just ask him if he wants to have a no strings relationship. You know, friends with benefits. I mean, why not hang out with him in between dating other people. I doubt he’s looking for anything serious either. Anything more would be a waste of both of our time.” I quit talking about it as dresses and more dresses, are brought in
for Olivia to approve, and for me to try on. We happily get lost in the madness of wedding planning.

  I WAS TRYING TO REMIND MYSELF that I liked Rixton a few hours later. Not long after I came home from trying on dress after dress for Olivia, I received a text from him.

  Rixton: Hi darlin’. I’m sorry I had to run out on you like that. I had a great time. Would love to take you out again soon. How about Saturday night?

  Instead of responding right away, I throw my phone on the bed and jump in the shower. It’s still early in the evening but a night of vegging out and maybe eating pizza sounds like the perfect evening to me.

  While washing my hair, I think about how to respond to Rixton. I can’t go out with him Saturday because I’m going out with R.J. I vacillate between wanting to plan a future date with him and just telling him no and ending this now. One thing’s for sure, making him wait for a little while for a response is good for him. For his personal growth. Manage his ego a little bit. Especially with him bailing on me the way he did. Almost any dating advice article I’ve ever read says not to respond immediately after a date because you don’t want to appear too eager. The people that write them, with my luck, probably have zero experience, but it sounds like what I should do nevertheless.

  I finish my shower and throw my hair up into a towel and dress in pajama shorts and a tank top. Looking at my nail polish collection, I can’t decide what color I want to choose to paint my fingernails. I know the girls could just give me a manicure at the spa, but sometimes I enjoy doing them myself. It’s relaxing and sometimes, secretly I like to try out various designs and patterns on my nails that I find online. It’s fun.