Carolina Booty

by T. Lynn Ocean

  “That’s Flush,” I said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Pop’s dog.”

  “Pompous Pop has a dog?”

  I nodded. “Has a raccoon, too.”

  “Well, I’ll be. Maybe he’s not as weird as I thought,” she muttered, heading to her own car. “Must be something decent about a man who has animals.”

  I headed home. Mad Millie made a detour to fetch a batch of cookies, but promised she’d be right behind me.

  Chapter 8

  Justin made good on his promise of a night on the town and after dinner, everyone piled into my SUV, except Riley who called it an early night and said he was going home. Avery drove and Pop rode shotgun. Justin and I settled into the back seat, Mad Millie sandwiched between us. I thought about popping a few more antihistamines, just to be safe, but didn’t want to be wired on my night out. We cut through the residential area and it dawned on me that I’d become accustomed to people waving at each other. But I hadn’t yet adapted to their way of driving. Avery had to brake when a pickup truck pulled in front of us, then immediately made a left turn.

  “Doesn’t anybody in this town use turn signals?” I asked.

  “No need to,” Avery said. “Everybody around here knows where everybody else lives.”

  “And which church they go to, and who’s headed out of town for a doctor appointment, and who’s in the Tuesday night poker group at Gertrude’s,” Pop added.

  “Gertrude the pharmacist plays poker?”

  Pop nodded. “Woman cleans up, when she can stay awake. Gotta be careful cutting a deck of cards with that woman, especially if she’s had a good nap before the game.”

  We bounced into a dirt parking lot and eased up to an old brick building that was so ensconced by kudzu vines, I hadn’t noticed it during my exploration drives. Crusted with layers of paint, a sign tacked above the door advertised, ‘Peas for Sale’. Hanging on chains in front of that, another sign read, ‘The Pink Petunia – exotic dancers’.

  “We’re going to an adult club?” I said, incredulous.

  Justin pointed to a third—and newer—sign affixed to a post near the front door. It read simply, ‘Duckies’.

  I climbed out of the car for a better look. “Billy at the general store told me about Duckies. It’s Walter’s place?”

  “Walter is an entrepreneur.” Pop chuckled. “Or as some folks call him, a non-trepreneur.”

  Justin held the door open for everyone. “Well he has opened some creative businesses. Everything from a drive-through hot dog stand–”

  “An inherently flawed plan,” Mad Millie cut in, clucking her disapproval. “People ‘round here don’t want to drive through somewheres to get a hotdog.”

  “To a comedy club, which lasted two months,” Justin finished. “Eleven, twelve years ago, Walter read a story in the Wall Street Journal about the flourishing adult entertainment industry and decided that Rumton was ripe for a dancing club.”

  Avery grinned. “Thus, The Pink Petunia.”

  We found a table and settled in. The place looked like an old lodge. Fishing paraphernalia and animal heads covered wood plank walls, and strings of multi-colored Christmas bulbs decorated the window frames. Above our heads, fishing nets draped across the ceiling, connecting rafter to rafter. Stacked in the corners, brightly painted large wooden barrels held fishing poles and hiking sticks. An L-shaped bar decorated one side of the room and a small stage stood on the other, where a man busied himself testing a karaoke machine.

  Millie pointed at him. “That there’s Walter.”

  Absorbing the décor, I decided the place had ambiance. A very unique ambiance. “So tell me the rest of The Pink Petunia story.”

  Pop chuckled. “Drive-through hot dog stand lasted one week. Pink Petunia made it one night. Couple of hours, actually. Holds the record for Walter’s shortest-lived business venture.”

  Avery nodded. “Walter will tell you he knew that finding dancers would be a challenge, and there might not be enough of a population to support an adult club. But ever the optimist, he plowed ahead. Even managed to hire a dancer.”

  Justin smiled and it suddenly hit me. He totally looked a lot like Avery. Sexy, hot Avery. Or, perhaps Avery looked like Justin. I didn’t know which was older. But I did know which of the two was straight and entertained the idea of getting to know Justin a little better. Even if he was a coworker and I’d be breaking my rule. Extreme circumstances called for extreme measures. And living in Rumton, although temporarily, was about extreme as it could get.

  “As opening night drew near,” Justin said, “old man Walter assured his pals that he did indeed have an exotic dancer. But he kept her identity a secret.”

  Walter strolled over and introductions were made. He sat with us a few minutes, found out what we wanted to drink, and ambled off. He spoke slowly and moved even slower.

  “So the Rumton men assumed Walter had found an experienced out-of-town girl,” Avery continued. “You can imagine their shock when, on opening night, he pulled the curtain aside and there stood little Ellie. Everybody in town had babysat her at one time or another.”

  Pop grinned. “The crowd got on Walter for talking Ellie into dancing, and scolded Ellie for listing to Walter.”

  “Riley yanked down the curtain, wrapped it ‘round the young’un and told her to go put some clothes on. Walter refunded everyone their ten-spot cover charge and closed the Pink Petunia that night,” Pop finished the story.

  “But the sign remains,” I mused. “Does he still sell peas?”

  “Sure do,” Walter said, serving five orange juices on ice. He put a bottle of rum in the middle of the table and told everyone to pour their own.

  “Didn’t we ask for beers and a vodka martini?” I said.

  “Sure did. But I’m out of both. Serving rum an’ juice tonight. Got pineapple, too, if you’d rather.”

  I shrugged. “Orange is great with me.” I was getting used to small town eccentricities. In Rumton, it didn’t do to be choosy.

  We mixed our liquid ingredients and toasted to good health. The rum and juice was tart and surprisingly good. People filtered in and before long, Duckies was packed. Walter took drink orders from each new arrival and returned with a corresponding number of juices, and the bottle of rum was passed from table to table. Everyone knew everyone else and the atmosphere reminded me of a fifty or sixty-year high school reunion. At some point, Walter cranked up the karaoke machine and two women belted out a pretty good rendition of country singer Gretchen Wilson.

  Justin and Avery dared each other to sing next, but got into a quiet debate about something before they made it up to the stage. Straining to hear their conversation, Mad Millie perked up. “Sunken boat? Where’s a sunken boat?”

  Everyone stopped speaking at once and looked at her.

  “What?” she said.

  “Well, boys,” Pop said. “Looks like you’ll have to tell her the secret.”

  Millie leaned in and put a hand on Pop’s arm. “I love secrets!” Pop didn’t pull away, and Millie’s hand lingered much longer than necessary for simple emphasis.

  Her eyes grew big when Avery gave her a condensed version of the ship’s bell discovery. They remained that way until she blinked them back to their normal size.

  “It could be an exciting find, or it could be nothing,” he told her and drank some rum and juice. “For all we know, the thing has been submerged for hundreds of years and has just recently worked its way to the surface. We need to do some research. See if The Aldora can be found in any journals. It may even turn up in Rumton’s history.”

  I changed the subject before Millie could grill Avery. “Speaking of local history, does anybody know what does the saying on Rumton’s sign mean? Y’all hideout. It’s an odd slogan.”

  “Hmmn,” Pop said. “Maybe ‘twas a good place for folk to hide.”

  I grinned. “Still is.”

  “Well, we’re not hiding out tonight.” Avery guided his brother to the stage. “We’r
e singing for all to hear and all to cheer!”

  In rich, smooth voices, they sang Chairman of the Board’s “Carolina Girls”, complete with the corresponding dance moves. Millie whispered something into Pop’s ear that generated a belly laugh, Walter came by to refill our juices and return the community rum bottle, and I watched Shine Advertising and PR’s vice president of market research entertain a crowd of jovial Rumtonians. Adding a splash of booze to my glass, two things occurred to me. One, I was having fun. And, two, Justin was pretty damn fine-looking. Why hadn’t I noticed it before?

  Amidst much clapping and whistling, the brothers returned to our table and plopped down, laughing.

  I fawned over them and batted my lashes like a star-struck groupie. “It’s really you! Wait till I tell my friends about seeing Justin and Avery perform live! Can I get your autographs? You can sign here,” I teased, pulling the hem of my cotton top up just enough to expose the skin of my lower back.

  A pair of hands took my hips and before I knew what was happening, Justin produced a pen and quickly wrote something in the small of my back.

  I spun around. “I can’t believe you actually did that!”

  He shrugged and took off his glasses to wipe his forehead with a napkin. “Hey, opportunity knocks, I answer.” He looked at me with one brown eye and one sparkling green one.

  “Oh, my God! You’ve got it, too!”

  Watching us, Pop chuckled.

  “Got what, too?” Justin said.

  “The green eye! Just like Pop!” I couldn’t stop staring. I couldn’t believe I’d never noticed it before. I’d always avoided looking directly into Justin’s eyes at the office because I didn’t want to strike up a conversation with him. Plus he always had on the thick, ugly glasses.

  “Runs in our family, amongst the men, Lass,” Pop said. “Grandpappy had the green eye, too.”

  “But I got ripped off,” Avery said, fluttering lashes over two golden brown eyes. “The gene passed me by.”

  My eyes were riveted to Justin’s, until he put his eyeglasses back on, breaking the spell. “Your green eye is amazing. But that doesn’t let you off the hook for writing on me! What did you write, anyhow?”

  The corners of his mouth inched up in a teasing smile. “For me to know…;”

  Before the night ended, much more rum was consumed, Pop danced with Mad Millie, Justin and Avery took a few more turns at the mike, and I laughed so hard my stomach muscles hurt.

  On the way home, Avery dropped Millie at her house so she wouldn’t have to drive from Pop’s, and I found myself alone in the back seat with Justin. Feeling happy, I impulsively gave his hand a squeeze. “Thanks for my night on the town. I didn’t think it possible in Rumton, but you delivered what you promised! I had a great time tonight.”

  “You’re welcome.” He returned the squeeze and made a quick pass along the inside of my bare forearm with his palm before stretching his arm across the top of the seat, behind my neck. I didn’t know if the caress was intentional, or simply happened because of our tight quarters, but a shiver shot through my body at his touch. “It was my pleasure.”

  Pop and Avery chatted away in the front seat, but my attention was focused on Justin’s warm hand, now hanging loosely over the top of the car seat, just inches from my shoulder. His body swayed in conjunction with mine, to the movement in the road. And his knee brushed mine, just barely, each time we hit a bump.

  By the time we got home, my body felt like one giant, electrified bundle of nerves. Justin was becoming more and more intriguing by the minute. “Take a walk with me?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  As soon as Justin and I were a few blocks from the house, bathed in bluish moonlight, he took my hand and stopped beneath a giant oak tree to say something. “Jaxie, I’ve really enjoyed spending—”

  I kissed him on the lips, lightly. Just a hint of contact, but enough to interrupt his sentence. Being far removed from our normal environment in Atlanta made me want to discover more about the man I’d only previous thought of as a dull vice president. Thinking about his incredible green eye and wondering what other secrets his body held was making me nuts. And being relaxed by the rum made me reckless. I figured he was trying to say something about us working together and having to remain professional, but didn’t want to hear it. I kissed him again, lightly, but this time let my mouth linger for a few seconds before breaking away.

  “—time with you,” he continued. “It’s been…;” He pulled me against him and kissed me deep without finishing the thought. I backed away to take off his glasses and, after getting a glimpse of the green eye, moved back in. His arms wrapped around me and his hands went beneath the hemline of my shirt to make direct contact with my lower back.

  “Tell me what you wrote down there,” I demanded through another kiss.

  “Nothing,” he answered through a deep laugh. “Never took the cap off the pen. But had it been open, the message on your back would say, I’ll sing for you anytime.”

  “Mmmm,” I murmured, thinking that I might like a private serenade. I thoroughly explored his mouth, and got a lingering taste of sweet orange juice. Our bodies fit together nicely, and our sensual embrace on the sidewalk became that much more tantalizing when I realized he was aroused.

  I did a slow rub against the stranger I’d known for years. “Your room or mine?” I whispered, meaning it.

  “Dammit.” He moaned and backed away to put a few inches of distance between us. “We can’t do this.”

  I closed the gap to nuzzle his throat. “Why not?”

  He took my hand and started walking again. “Jaxie, I’ve been crazy about you for a long time. Ever since you came to work at the agency.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “So then what’s the problem?”

  “You’d never give me the time of day before now. And while the thought of being with you is…; driving me crazy, I have mixed feelings. I feel like, now that I’m the only game in town, you’re going to give me a whirl. And I’m not a one night stand kind of guy.”

  Frowning, I pulled my hand from his. Maybe Sheila had been right when she said Justin was hot for me. But I’d never seen it. “Look, Justin, I think you’re great. Tonight has been a blast. And I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to know you better before. I had no idea you felt that way about me.”

  “I’ve fantasized about going to parties with you on my arm.” He studied my face, slowing shaking his head. “I go on dinner dates with nice, beautiful women and end up wishing I were sitting across the table from you instead of them.” He blew out a long sigh. “And I don’t know why in the hell I’m telling you this.”

  I stopped walking, my happy alcoholic buzz quickly fading and a bundle of mixed emotions dancing in my stomach before settling into frustration. “Justin, you’ve never been anything but polite, almost distant, at work.”

  Looking down, he shuffled in place before capturing my eyes with his. “I never wanted to come across as pushy, but I have asked you out a number of times, Jaxie.”

  “You never told me how you felt.”

  “Would it have made a difference?”

  I thought about it. “No, I guess not.”

  He shrugged. “But I kept hoping you’d come around. See that I’m a decent guy.”

  I didn’t want to talk anymore, and didn’t want to end a perfect evening on a sour note. I pressed against him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I just did.”

  He gently removed my arms and shook his head. “I’d like to think you want to get know me because you’re genuinely interested in me. Not because I’m the only non-retired man in Rumton.”

  I pulled back. “What are you talking about? So what if it took us both being in Rumton to get to know each other a little better. What difference does it make?”

  “As much as I’d love to rip your clothes off and fall into bed with you, it’s probably not a good idea. I don’t want to be just another of your…; mea
ningless dates. I couldn’t bear that.”

  Blood moved in my face and my cheeks got hot. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Your feelings on long-term relationships are well known around the office. I’ve heard you and Sheila joke about your latest string of boyfriends. What’s the motto? The four D’s? If you dig him – date him, do him, and ditch him?”

  “Oh, hell,” I mumbled to myself, feeling like a total schmuck. Had Sheila and I been that blatant with our talk at the office?

  “I couldn’t stand to be ditched by you,” he said softly. “It would tear me up.”

  Chapter 9

  Accompanied by two four-legged critters, Justin and I drank coffee beneath a gazebo in Pop’s backyard. Clean crisp air complimented an agreeable temperature. Early morning puffy clouds slowly changed shape as they drifted across a vividly blue backdrop, and I tried to remember the last time I’d taken time to watch the sky. He reached across me to retrieve some cream, angling his body awkwardly, so as not to accidentally touch me.

  “You could have just asked for it,” I said. “I would happily have given it to you.”

  “The cream?” he said, smirking at the double meaning.

  “Ha, ha.”

  We sat in silence, him sipping java and me gazing at the clouds, until he finally sighed. “Let’s forget our conversation last night ever happened, okay?” he said. “It was just the booze talking.”

  “Fine.” I hadn’t slept well. If anybody was going to turn down a physical advance, it should be me. And besides, who was he to eavesdrop on my conversations with Sheila, or judge how I conducted my social life?

  “I don’t want it to be uncomfortable, every time we see each other,” he went on. “We have to work together. Let’s be professional.”

  “I agree,” I said, still watching the sky. An O-shaped cloud playfully stretched until it resembled a full pair of lips, and the feel of his mouth tantalized my memory. Sweet Jesus. I looked at Flush so I couldn’t see the wispy sky-lips, or the real ones on Justin’s face. Or seek out the green eye, through the thick lenses. He’s not your type, I told myself, and besides that, he’s a jerk.