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Sex, Lies & Sweet Tea

Page 7

by Kris Calvert


  “Anytime.”

  I carefully balanced both shakes in one hand and opened the car door for her. “Do you mind holding these while I drive?” I asked. “This car was built before cup holders were more important than engine size.”

  “I’m happy to help out.” Taking both cups in her hands, she lightly brushed over my fingertips in the exchange. The charge I got from touching her skin was palpable and I was sure she felt it too.

  “Where are we going now?” she asked, dipping her lips to suck on the straw.

  Sweet Lord, just watching her mouth was unraveling me. “I know a place.” I swallowed hard, starting the engine and pulling onto the street.

  Sam didn’t have time or an empty hand to make a ponytail, and I loved seeing her hair flying in the warm breeze. She held onto the two cups and leaned her head back. Once again, I had a hard time concentrating on the road. All I wanted to do was look at her.

  We roared down the rural highway and into the outskirts of Shadeland in silence—just me and the two Sams—the beauty to my right and the one singing.

  Cupid, draw back your bow. And let your arrow go. Straight to my lover’s heart, for me.

  I turned onto a back road lane and parked at the edge of a hill. I opened her door and escorted her out of the car, taking the milkshakes. “We’re going right over there.” I motioned with my head to a small bench at the top of the valley.

  “Wow,” she stammered. “It’s beautiful.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  Sitting on the western facing bench, she looked over the valley below filled with poppies. It was radiant, like a Monet painting. I watched as she caught her breath, taking it all in. I had to admit it was spectacular, and soon the sun would be setting over the valley and in front of us.

  “How do you know about this place?” she asked quietly, her voice echoing in the stillness.

  “I used to come here a lot when I was a kid.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded, handing her back her milkshake.

  “Do you know the owner?”

  “Yes,” I admitted, taking a long drink. “How is your head feeling?”

  “It’s better, thank you.” She paused. “Do you bring all your unsuspecting women here?”

  I smiled, lost in everything about her. “You mean, do I lure women here and then take advantage of them?”

  She laughed, albeit nervously.

  “No.” I sighed heavily. “I only bring women who hit me—in the head—twice—in one day.”

  “No, really,” she giggled, sipping on her milkshake.

  “Really,” I whispered, my voice amplified by the basin. “I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

  We sat in comfortable silence for the few glorious moments it took the sun to dip into oblivion, creating a pink and orange canvas across the sky.

  “How is your head?” Sam asked, shifting her body to me.

  I rubbed my forehead where I could still feel a bit of a bump. “I think I’ll live.”

  What was left of the sunlight glowed on her skin. She was intoxicating. Without warning, she put her hand to my face and lightly touched my forehead, smoothing her soft fingers over the lump, evidence of our accidental meeting.

  “I probably should’ve taken some Advil too,” I mumbled, finding it hard to get the words out of my mouth. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was mesmerizing, and I felt a charge through my tight muscles with every stroke of her fingertips.

  “I’m sorry I gave you such a lump,” she confessed quietly.

  “I’m not.”

  She slowly leaned in and kissed my forehead, as if she were kissing a child’s scratch. She lingered, and it baited me. Unable to control myself, I slowly took her face in my hands and led her to my lips. I kissed her. Lightly at first, brushing her beautiful mouth against mine, stopping only for a moment to gaze at the soft light that filled her eyes. Her lips invited me back again. I pulled her closer, caressing the nape of her neck and kissed her deeper, exploring her mouth. She moaned and moved like putty in my hands, responding to every touch of my lips to hers, every stroke of my tongue. I pressed into her, greedy for more.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, stopping abruptly and turning away.

  “Why are you sorry?” I asked, lightly touching her shoulder. “If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”

  “No, it’s just… I haven’t done that in a long time.”

  “Kissed?” I asked quietly, hoping I hadn’t been too bold.

  “I know it sounds silly, but there’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

  “Hey,” I gently pulled her back to face me. “There’s a lot about you I want to know.”

  “This is so unlike me,” Sam confessed. “I never ride off with men—especially into the sunset for heaven’s sake. And you looking like…”

  “Like what?”

  “Like… you do.”

  I let out a laugh.

  “Don’t laugh at me.”

  “I’m not laughing at you.” I was enchanted by her charm. “Sam, look at me.”

  Her teary eyes told me what she couldn’t.

  “If it’s confession time, then know this—I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you in the hallway while kicking the ass of an overweight security guard named Chuck.”

  She dropped her head and giggled through her tears.

  “So there,” I added for good measure, delighted at her smile.

  We sat as the sun completely faded. The excitement of being together poured out of us in fits of laughter as we relived our first two meetings. I took her hand when there was no longer light in the sky and led her back to the car. We roared out of the lane and onto the highway.

  “Oh no,” she gasped as we sped into the early evening.

  “What?”

  “We left our cups on the bench. I don’t want to be trashy.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “But what will the owner think?”

  “He thinks it’s been a great night and we don’t need to go back.”

  “I should’ve known,” she said, shaking her head.

  I took her hand in mine, bringing it to my mouth. I delicately kissed each of her fingers. I could feel her shudder with excitement each time my lips touched her delicate skin, sending a charge into my own body. We listened to Sam Cooke sing in the cool Alabama night air, and I refused to let go of her.

  Darling you send me, I know, you send me. Darling, you send me. Honest you do, honest, you do, honest you do.

  We drove in silence without saying a word. We didn’t have to.

  *

  Sam wrestled the security badge out of her purse that would allow access to the gated lot at Autumn Valley. She pointed out her car, and we drove up the hill that flanked the right side of the nursing home to her white Mercedes SUV.

  I pulled into the space next to her and turned off the car, not wanting the evening to end. She went for the door handle and I stopped her. “Hang on, darlin’,” I drawled, jumping out of the car. “Let me get it.”

  I extended my hand as she got out and she held it firmly, giving me a tiny squeeze before letting go to search her purse for keys.

  I retrieved the cardboard box that brought us together from the back of the Aston Martin and carried it to her trunk.

  “Thank you for the Advil.” She smiled as she pressed the button inside the car and the trunk slowly began to close on its own. “And for making my head feel better.”

  “The pleasure has been mine.”

  I opened her car door and watched her climb in and start the engine. She immediately rolled her window down to continue our goodbye.

  “Sam?”

  “Yes?” I could’ve sworn she purred the word and I could tell by the look on her face, she knew exactly what she was doing to me. I swallowed hard.

  “May I call on you?”

  “Yes.” She gave me a beautiful smile. “Goodnight, Mac.”

  “Goodnight, Samantha.”

/>   I watched her drive into the darkness before getting into my car to head for home. Then I remembered. My phone. I sped through the security gate as soon as it lifted, making my way to the front entrance. Once inside I was immediately stopped at the door by security guard Chuck’s nighttime counterpart.

  “Good evening,” I said. “I’m Mac Callahan, and I left my phone in my mother’s room earlier today. I need to get it.

  “Sign in here,” he said with a moan, pointing to the clipboard in front of him. “You’ll need to wear this after-hours badge, and you must check in at the nurses’ station on the wing. Where are you going?”

  “D wing. D-22.”

  “So you’re the guy,” he said as he twisted his mouth into a tight wad and gave me a glare.

  “Yeah, I’m the guy.”

  “Stop back here when you leave so I can sign you out. And no funny business.”

  “You got it,” I assured him, slapping the after-hours sticker to my shirt pocket. Quickly walking to Mom’s suite, I stopped at the nurses’ station as I was told.

  “Hi, I’m Mac Callahan. I’m—”

  “Yes, Mr. Callahan,” the pretty blonde nurse drawled, giving me the once over with only her eyes. “I know who you are.”

  “Oh,” I continued, realizing how small the town and even smaller the community of Autumn Valley was. “I left—”

  “Your phone,” she interrupted. “Yes, I have it.”

  Sliding the phone across the counter, her hand waited patiently for me to take it.

  “Thank you.” I nodded sheepishly and slid it into my coat pocket.

  “I found it earlier this evening,” she said. “I brought it out here in case someone came back. I didn’t want anyone to disturb Mrs. Callahan.”

  “Thank you….” I lingered, looking for her nametag.

  “Victoria,” she said with a smile.

  “Are you my mother’s usual night nurse?”

  “Yes.” She nodded and coyly played with her hair. “Most of the time.”

  “When I came to visit her earlier today, she didn’t know who I was—at all,” I explained, hoping Victoria would stop flirting and help me understand how my mom was doing on a day-to-day basis. “It was the first time she didn’t know me.”

  “She does pretty well, Mr. Callahan.”

  “Really?” I asked, starting to feel better about the situation.

  “Feel free to ask any of us anything,” Victoria said. “Your mom’s a great lady.”

  “Yes, she is. Thank you, Victoria.”

  “Anytime, Mr. Callahan.”

  “Please, call me Mac,” I said, wanting to make friends with anyone who was helpful to my mother—even if they were coming on to me. “Thank you again for my phone.”

  As I made my way down the hall, I noticed a light shining through the administration office windows on either side of the entrance. I leaned in for a closer look.

  “What the hell?” Miller shouted as he jumped behind the glass. I’d scared the crap out of the old man. He sighed and unlocked the door, barely cracking it to me.

  “Working late?” I asked.

  “Oh, you know, just finishing up some important paperwork. You scared the bejeezus out of me, for goodness sake. What are you doing here so late? Visiting hours are long over.”

  “I forgot my phone.”

  “I’m closing up shop here myself for the night. Have a good one.” Without a thought he shut the door in my face. The lock clicked from the inside, and Miller gave me a frustrated wave through the glass when he discovered I’d not left.

  I returned the gesture and gave him a hard stare. Miller was up to no good and he could tell I suspected something by the look on my face. I stopped to check out with rent-a-cop number two and headed for home. Now that I’d found Miller working late and acting suspicious, I felt guilty for not focusing on 56621, but my head was filled with something entirely different—Samantha.

  I’d heard of being gobsmacked, but it’d never happened to me. She was crazy-sexy, the kind of girl who’d seen plenty of men fall over themselves to win her affection. I realized I’d need to do a little more than employ the usual Southern-boy charm that had so easily dazzled the women of my past.

  I sped through the open night air, still listening to Sam Cooke, and fantasized about the lovely Samantha Peterson.

  7

  SAMANTHA

  I kissed Dax and grabbed my coffee from Polly. I couldn’t wait to get to work. I’d barely slept but I wasn’t tired. I was running on pure adrenaline and Mac Callahan. All I heard as I ran out the front door was Polly shouting, “Mommy’s in a really good mood this morning, Dax!”

  I made it to Autumn Valley without recalling the drive, and went straight to my office to drop off my briefcase and check my messages. On top of my desk was a pile of handwritten notes and files. No doubt the information I’d requested from Stacy. I glanced at it, but decided it could wait. I wanted to see Mimi.

  I could hardly contain my excitement down the hallway as I made my way to her suite. I couldn’t wait to tell her about the man who’d bought me ice cream and Advil.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” I sang. “Are you busy?”

  “Busier than a two dollar whore on nickel night,” Mimi crooned from behind her breakfast nook.

  “Seriously?”

  “No.” She waved me over. “Not really. Come sit. I’ve missed you.”

  “I have so much to tell you.” I quickly sat and looked to the ceiling, wondering where to begin.

  “What is his name?” she asked, lingering on the “is” as she eyed her breakfast omelet.

  I sat back in shock. “How did you know?”

  “There are only two things that make a woman glow,” said Mimi. “Falling in love and great sex.”

  I was speechless, and Mimi read the shock on my face. “Honey, at my age, I gotta hear sex stories when I get the chance. Lord knows everything you hear around here is a big fat lie. We’re all too old to get it on. Most of us were in third grade with Jesus.”

  “I didn’t realize you were going to need details,” I babbled through my words, pulling my jaw from the floor.

  “Tell me all about him, sweetheart. Was the sex just decent, or fanfuckingtastic?”

  I was torn between telling her about my amazing night with Mac and addressing her sexual pearl of wisdom.

  “You’re the one who said you were perfectly happy to never have a man in your life—ever again,” Mimi said, totally ignoring the fact she’d said the word fuck to me.

  I frowned at her.

  “Ever, was the word you used,” Mimi continued. “Maybe even, never-ever.”

  “Okay Mimi. I get it. You were right. Is that what you wanted me to say?” I was still too high on Mac to care she was proving me wrong.

  “Not really,” she replied, gloating in her victory. “But now that you’ve said it, I was right.”

  “Look, there was no sex, and there never will be sex. As soon as he finds out I’m a mother, he’ll run as fast as he can.”

  “Why do you say that?” Mimi asked as she slowly ate her breakfast.

  “No one wants extra baggage when their own baggage is heavy enough to carry through life. And let’s face it, Mimi. I’ve got baggage.”

  “You do not have baggage, Sam. What you have is an earlier life. It’s not the same. Prison, bankruptcy, drugs, alcoholism—that’s baggage. A dead husband, a beautiful, smart son? Not baggage. Do you see the difference?”

  “I get it.”

  “Listen to me.” She took my hand and I knew she was about to dispense some kind of important life lesson. “You will love again. I don’t know if it’s this man—the one with whom you had a wonderful sexless night—but you will love again.”

  I stared at her, speechless.

  “So, no sex, huh?” Mimi asked again, taking another bite of her omelet.

  “Nope.”

  “Damn.”

  “Isn’t it a good thing I’m not a whore-bag who
puts out on the first date?”

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “There are only two things in this world that can make a woman glow,” repeated Mimi.

  “Love and sex. Right?” I answered, not believing her theory.

  “And if you didn’t get laid last night, you’re in deeper trouble than you think, little missy.”

  “All I wanted to do was tell you about my night with him,” I said with frustration. I still want to.

  “Hell, honey. You know I want to hear about it. I just wanted to know what I was getting into.”

  “He’s perfect.”

  “Well, shit. Go on.”

  “We ran into each other—literally ran into each other. I have the bruise on my forehead to prove it.” I pulled my hair from my face to show her the tiny dark spot on my forehead.

  “Haven’t you heard?” Mimi laughed. “Love hurts.”

  “He took me for ice cream and a drive.”

  “Sounds like good people, Sam,” Mimi agreed, pushing the remaining breakfast away from her. “Bring him around.”

  “He’s around. His mom’s a resident here.”

  “Really? Who might that be?”

  “Callahan. Nancy Callahan.”

  “I know Nancy. She’s good people. Nice family,” Mimi continued and looked out the window, obviously thinking about something else.

  “Mimi, you need to eat your breakfast.” I frowned at her, noticing she’d barely touched her food.

  “Not much of an appetite this morning, honey.”

  “Are you feeling all right?” I asked, moving in to feel her forehead, a motherly instinct I’d acquired from having Dax. “You don’t seem to have a temperature.”

  “No, dear,” Mimi sighed. “I’m perfectly fine—just older than dirt.”

  “Okay,” I conceded, still concerned. “I’m gonna get to work. I’ll check on you later.”

  “How is your new job going?”

  “Well, I’m not too far into everything they want me to do. Right now, it seems as if the records are pretty inadequate—nothing I can’t handle.”

  “I’ve told you before. There aren’t many intelligent people working here. How’s Miller treating you?”

 

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