The Plan

by Tawdra Kandle

  “And I’ll have the clams over linguine.” Travis handed our menus to the waiter, who hustled off to put in our order. Rubbing his hands together, my date beamed at me. “So, Emmy. Tell me about yourself. What are your hobbies?”

  I frowned. “Hobbies? Well, honestly, I don’t have a lot of free time in my life these days. I have a pie business that I run myself, and I work on weekend nights at the Riptide.” I paused. “Did Logan tell you anything about me?”

  He waved his hand. “Oh, yeah, he said something about you working at his wife’s bar. That’s nice. But you don’t have anything you do just for fun? Or to keep in shape?”

  “Not unless you count running my kids around.” I pasted on a smile. “Logan did tell you I have three kids, right?”

  “Yeah, he mentioned it. I like kids.” Travis sipped his wine. “But my real passion is bicycling. I spend most of my non-working hours either training or doing races. I have an Orbea Orca Shimano.” He sat back, looking at me expectantly.

  “That’s . . . great?” I honestly wasn’t sure. It sounded a little like a terminal condition.

  He frowned. “That’s a top-of-the-line road bike. It’s very expensive.”

  “Oh, okay.” I fiddled with my napkin, curling the edges of it on my lap. “I don’t know anything about bike racing.”

  “It’s not hard to learn. I’d be happy to take you out some day, maybe on a ten-miler to start. Last month I did a run down to the Keys. It was beautiful.”

  “I’m sure.” My head was beginning to pound, and I cursed past-Emmy who had ever thought that a blind date was a good idea. A convent sounded better. Being alone for the rest of my life sounded better than this. “Like I said, I don’t have any free time. I’m either working or I’m with my kids. Usually I’m doing both at the same time. Or I’m sleeping, and I don’t do enough of that.”

  “Oh.” Travis seemed to get it, and he sat back, all enthusiasm gone. We sat in painful silence for a solid five minutes as the pain between my temples escalated.

  “Jude said you’re a lawyer. What kind of law do you practice?” I was scrambling for anything to end the enormous quiet.

  “Mostly architect and engineering malpractice. I defend professionals who are being sued when something goes wrong in a building or a factory.”

  “Well, that sounds interesting.” I was lying through my teeth. It sounded the opposite of interesting. It sounded more boring than watching paint dry.

  “It isn’t.” Travis spoke flatly. “I only went to law school because my father wouldn’t get off my back. I wanted to be an activist, but he threatened to cut me off if I didn’t go into a respectable line of practice.”

  At last. Something that made Travis a tiny bit likable. “Why don’t you do that now? What’s holding you back?”

  He cocked his head. “What do you mean? I can’t go back. I’ve got a solid practice built up now.”

  I nodded. “Sure, but why can’t you sell it, take the money and go off to be an activist? What kind of work did you always want to do?”

  Something flickered in his brown eyes. “I wanted to head up the places that protest animal cruelty and work to get laws passed that protect animals and require higher standards and practices for our food.”

  “You should totally go do it.” I leaned forward. “I mean, why not? You’re not married, right? You don’t have kids. If you can afford a—what was it? An Orbi She-whatever? If you can buy that, you’re probably making good money. You could live off it while you were getting yourself established in your new job. Your new life.”

  Travis stared at me as though I’d opened a door he’d never known existed. “I could. You know, I totally could.” He slapped his hand down on the table, rattling the silverware and startling the older couple at the next table over. “Fuck my father. He doesn’t control me anymore. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”

  Well, you didn’t think of it even now. I bit my tongue and smiled as the waiter brought our food.

  The rest of the date was much more relaxed. Travis chattered with excitement about what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, and I did an excellent job of nodding and smiling. When the check came, Travis paid it and turned to me.

  “Emmy, thanks. This was a turning point for me. I think if we hadn’t gone out tonight, I never would’ve realized that I’m wasting my life.”

  I nodded, barely keeping a straight face. “I think you might be right, Travis.”

  “I’d like to say I could see you again, but I think I’m going to be pretty busy making over my life. And I think I’m going to get in touch with my girlfriend from college, too. The only reason we broke up was that she thought I was selling out. If I tell her I’m going back and making changes, maybe she’ll reconsider.”

  I stood up and hitched my purse onto my shoulder. “Hope springs eternal, Travis.” I offered him my hand. “Thank you for dinner. It was . . . enlightening.”

  As soon as I got back to the van, I called Jude and left a message on her voicemail. “Jude, it’s Emmy. Don’t tell Logan, but I think I broke his lawyer. Also, I think I’m over the whole blind-dating deal. I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”

  Friday was another busy night at the Tide. I barely had a minute to give Jude the abbreviated version of my date report, but it turned out she’d already heard it; I’d talked to Abby on the phone that morning, and she’d spilled the beans to Jude.

  “I can keep looking,” she offered as she got ready to leave the restaurant. “There’re plenty of other fish in the sea.”

  “I think I’m okay for now. I had an epiphany while I was with Travis. I like my life. I’m incredibly blessed. Maybe wanting to add a man to the mix is asking too much.”

  Jude’s brows drew together. “Wanting to share your life with someone you love isn’t asking too much, Emmy.”

  I shrugged. “If it happens, it happens. I’m not going to force anything.” I patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Jude. You did a good job. Travis seems like a decent person. Maybe I’m just not as ready as I thought I was.” I tied the apron around my waist. “Now shoo. Don’t you have a husband waiting at home for you?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry, though, Emmy. You deserve someone as wonderful as you are. Someone who can see how incredibly special you are.” Before she turned to leave, she added, “It might take some people a while to see that. But don’t give up on them. On love, I mean.”

  That thought stayed in the forefront of my mind as I ran myself ragged that night. We had to begin turning people away at about nine-thirty, and the dance floor stayed packed. But even as I filled drink orders, jumped in to bus tables and made sure everything ran smoothly, I realized I was keeping one eye open, looking for Cooper. I wanted to look up and see him sitting at the bar, his eyes searching me out.

  I’d told him I couldn’t handle casual sex, and I had a feeling he intended to take me at my word. He wouldn’t show up here, hoping I might change my mind. That wasn’t Cooper. He’d made his move, twice, and each time I’d responded. He wasn’t going to push me when I’d said no to his proposed arrangement.

  But if being with Travis had made me rethink dating, it hadn’t convinced me that I could live without sex for the rest of my life. As a matter of fact, being with Cooper twice had awakened something in me that had been dormant, and it wasn’t likely to go back into hibernation. My body craved the touch of hands and lips, the sweet weight of a man on top of me, and I had a bad feeling that only one person would do.

  The last customers left just before one. Carey and Aaron were exhausted, but they still stayed to help me close up. I sent everyone else home, calling goodnight as I made my rounds, checked to make sure the stoves and fryers were off and gave the restrooms a once-over. I thought of Cooper helping me with this last weekend, and a wave of intense longing swept over me, nearly pulling me under.

  “Hey, Emmy. I just found a whole chocolate pie in the fridge.” Aaron held up the dessert for me to see. “We can’t serve it after t
onight, since it was made Wednesday. Jude must’ve forgotten it was here.”

  “I brought her a few extras this week since we’ve been so busy.” I looked at the delectable pie. “Do you or Carey want to take it home?”

  Aaron shook his head. “I don’t like chocolate.”

  I clapped my hand to my chest in mock horror. “Blasphemer! Okay, how about you, Carey?”

  The girl ducked her head. “Thanks, but I’m not eating desserts. I’m trying to lose weight.”

  Aaron stared at her, his brows drawn together. “Why would you do that? You’re not fat. You’re perfect.”

  I bit back a smile that threatened as Carey’s face pinked and blossomed into a smile. “Thanks.”

  “Well, if neither of you wants the pie, I guess I’ll just . . .” I stopped talking as

  an idea began to take shape in my mind. “I’ll take care of it. I think I might know someone who’d enjoy it.”

  Aaron and Carey suddenly seemed in a hurry to leave, so I sent them out. I grabbed the pie and carried it with me as I finished closing up, set the alarm and locked the door. When I got into my van, I set the pie on the floor and turned the opposite direction from my house.

  I hadn’t actually ever been to Cooper’s house. I knew where it was, because I’d dropped off Jude there a time or two to meet Logan. I knew from word around town that he’d bought the Cape Cod dirt-cheap and renovated both it and the huge workshop in the back; according to Jude, he had an apartment upstairs in the house, above his offices.

  I pulled into the tree-shaded driveway, suddenly aware of just how late it was. It was nearly two in the morning, and Cooper was probably asleep. I was insane. What had made me think this was in any way a good idea? I could only blame sexual frustration. Need. Plain old horniness. God, I was pathetic.

  A sound at the end of the driveway broke the stillness of the night. It came from the workshop, and I realized, with a mix of relief and giddy excitement, that there were lights on in that building. Cooper must be up, working.

  Without taking any more time to second-guess myself, I slid out of the van, carrying the pie like an offering to the gods. The gravel and crushed shells crunched beneath my sneakered feet, and I was certain the sound echoed through the neighborhood. I tried to walk slower, more quietly.

  There was a door at the end of the workshop, and when I turned the knob, it opened easily, surprising me. I took a deep breath and went inside.

  For a moment, I thought I was alone. I was in a long room, filled with wood, furniture in various stages of completion and so many tools and machines. Sawdust scented the air, reminding me of Cooper’s unique smell. My eyes wandered, taking in the different woods and the shelves of stain and paints, all in a kind of chaotic order that I assumed made sense to Coop.

  A loud whining at the far end of the workshop pulled my attention in that direction, and I spotted Cooper, in jeans, with a white T-shirt stretched tight over his muscled back, standing at the disc sander. He wore goggles to protect his eyes, and his attention was wholly focused on the small piece of wood in his hand.

  I stayed where I was, knowing that disturbing him when he was using the sander wasn’t a good idea. At best he’d risk ruining the piece he was working on, and at worst, he could injure himself. I stood very still, waiting and watching.

  It wasn’t a hardship. His jeans were snug over his ass, reminding me all too vividly of what it felt like to cup my hands there. The muscles beneath his shirt shifted and rolled as he maneuvered the wood. I wanted to stand behind him, feather my fingers over his back and close my eyes as I felt him move. I wanted his hard body pressed against mine. I wanted him to surround me with his strength and never let go.

  I wanted.

  As though he could feel my desire, Cooper stepped back from the sander, letting it slow to a stop. One hand swept off his goggles as he turned, his reaction at seeing me there barely discernable. He raked his fingers through his hair, brushing off the sawdust. And then he just stood, watching me, and waiting.

  Licking my lips, I took one step forward. I wanted to be closer, yet part of me was still afraid. Still hesitating. I pushed that part of me down and took another two steps, lifting up my offering.

  “I brought you pie.”

  Cooper’s eyes flickered down to take note of the dessert. One side of his mouth lifted. “Looks good. Anything else?”

  I took another step and another deep breath. I met his eyes, letting them take me captive into their bright blue electricity.

  “I brought you . . . me.”

  Cooper blinked, once, and then he moved fast, like a cat. One hand took the pie plate, setting it on a nearby table, before he pulled me hard against him, his mouth open and over mine, his tongue sweeping possessively into me, stroking against my tongue and teeth. His hands gripped my ass, lifting me up until I wrapped my legs around his waist. With a grunt, he pushed a pile of wood off the workbench and settled me there.

  He broke the kiss to lick his way down my neck, tugging down the collar of my shirt and pushing one breast free. He yanked down the bra cup and fastened his mouth on the turgid nipple, making me moan as I held his head close to me.

  “I have to be inside you.” His fingers were between my legs and hooked the thin cotton of my khaki short. He gave a hard jerk, and the cloth ripped. I almost sobbed with the overwhelming desire gripping me when he pushed aside the last barrier of my underwear. His fingers were rough and insistent, driving me up and up as I held tight to his shoulders.

  Cooper removed his hand from me just long enough to undo his jeans, releasing his straining cock. He held it in one hand, pulling my backside closer to the edge of the bench with the other and thrusting into me without any hesitation.

  I could feel the tightening low in my stomach, the undeniable sense that I was about to go flying over the edge into the abyss. I lifted my legs a little higher, changing the angle of our connection. Lying back, I rested on my elbows, throwing my boobs forward. Cooper growled and leaned down to suck on the exposed nipple before he moved to the other side, biting down through the layers of my shirt and bra.

  The sting of pain and pleasure toppled me over the edge, my fingers digging into the wood of the bench as I arched my hips and cried out.

  Cooper held my legs, but he never stopped plunging into me. When I dropped my head back, emptied by the strength of my orgasm, he gripped my hips harder.

  “More. Give me more. Come again.”

  I gasped. “Don’t think I can.”

  “Yes, you can. I want to feel you pulsing around my cock, Em. I’m so deep in you. So fucking deep. Can you feel me? I want to feel you come again, and I want your pussy to squeeze my dick.”

  The dirty words came tumbling from his mouth, turning me on again, and when he moved one hand to press against my clit, I screamed my pleasure. Cooper thrust one more time, hard enough to push my whole body backward, and came, spilling into me as endless spasms gripped my channel, squeezing him.

  I hadn’t quite caught my breath when Cooper lifted me again, holding me tight against his chest this time. He kissed my cheek and then my forehead.

  “Hi, Emmy.”

  I giggled, unable to hold it back. “Hi, Coop.”

  “I’m glad you came over tonight. Glad you brought pie. Even gladder you brought you.”

  I nuzzled his neck, drawing circles with the tip of my tongue on his salty skin. “Me, too. Are you hungry? We can cut the pie.”

  He chuckled. “I could eat. I haven’t had anything all day, and just now, I think I might’ve worked up an appetite.”

  I wriggled. “Then let me down, and we can take it inside. I assume you have a kitchen somewhere on the premises?”

  Cooper tightened his hold on me. “I do have a kitchen. I have a coffeemaker, if you’d like coffee with your pie.” He skimmed a light kiss over my lips. “I also have a bed. And I’m not going to put you down, because I’ve discovered that I’m kind of addicted to carrying you. I like feeling you against
me, and I like having your mouth right here.” He kissed me again, deeper and more involved this time.

  “I can live with that.” I breathed the words against his mouth as he headed for the door, stopping just long enough for me to snag the pie from the table before we slid into the night.

  I’D NEVER WOKEN UP WITH a woman in my bed.

  It was true, I realized, as I opened my eyes. My hookups always took place elsewhere; either at hotels or at the girl’s house. I’d bought this place while I was married to Jolie, but at the time, we’d lived in a small house closer to town. When I’d met Karlee, she’d never wanted to stay at what she termed my dingy little apartment; I had planned to build us a house, but the marriage hadn’t lasted long enough for that. It had taken place entirely in a rented beachfront condo.

  This morning, when I awoke to the sight of Emmy, still asleep with her hair spread over the pillow, lips slightly parted, something inside me shifted. She felt right here. I wanted to open my eyes and find her here all the time.

  A tiny trace of chocolate was smeared on her bare shoulder, and I smiled. We’d enjoyed her chocolate pie last night. I’d convinced Emmy that we should eat it in bed, and when she dropped a little crumb onto her boob, I’d been lured into licking it off. That had led to more chocolate in more . . . interesting places, which had led to me coming hard in Emmy’s seductive little mouth at the same time that she came against mine.

  All of that chocolate meant that we needed to shower before we slept, and it only made sense to save water and shower together. Which had of course resulted in me taking her again, up against the wet tiles.

  It had been nearly four before we fell asleep. I twisted to see my bedside clock, surprised that it was only ten now. I settled back down, drawing Emmy back against my chest.

  “What time?” Her voice, sleepy and husky, was muffled against me.