Thirty One - Laurie
I’ve deliberately avoided everyone the past few days after Aiden came to set up the new surveillance equipment for a number of reasons. For starters, that’s just who I am. I like to be left alone. Other reasons for my behavior included me needing privacy to tap into the video feed and streaming it into my home system so I can record and watch what’s happening with Quintin, needing some personal space after Aiden decided to push that night with that kiss, and to talk with the Chief. My cell has been buzzing several times a day from Aiden, but I don’t respond. Trudy only calls once because I text back that I‘m fine which is our usual habit.
Today, I’m heading over to see Mrs. Lenard for an early lunch and to keep her company since I haven’t been able to spend as much time with her as I would have liked. The woman reminds me of my grandmother a little bit, though Esther has more sass to her, which I love.
As I get out of my truck, the sound of a chainsaw echoes from behind the house. “What’s going on?” I ask as I head up to the front porch where Mrs. Lenard is waiting for me.
“I’ve got a few guys helping chop up the two trees that went down during that last storm,” she reveals. We’ll have firewood for years.”
“Wonderful,” I praise. “I’m glad to know that Gerald didn’t try to take care of it.”
“Oh, he did try…for about fifteen minutes,” she states. “He claimed that there was some kind of an issue…like he didn’t have the right tools or something…but I know that it was just overwhelming for him.”
“I could have taken care of it for you,” I offer.
“I know, dear,” she replies. “But, you know me. I can’t resist a few good looking men doing yard work.”
“True,” I laugh.
“You brought a lot of stuff,” she mentions as I unpack the bags.
“A lot has grown,” I say.
“Once you’re done, would do me a favor, sweetie?” she asks kindly.
“What do you need?”
“I was just getting ready to take those men some iced tea for all their hard work,” she explains. “Would you mind taking it out for me?”
“Sure, but I’d figure you’d want a closeup of the workers,” I goad.
“Oh, I do,” she offers with a smile. “But, I’d be too obvious. Plus, Gerald should be home for lunch today and I don’t want him getting all insecure. You know how men are. They’re worse than women when it comes to us looking but not touching or anything.”
“I’ll take it out to them,” I confirm with amusement as I put the last few items away.
“Great,” she exclaims.
“I’ll pour you some and put it on the table out back where I’ve been sitting,” she shares.
“Sounds good,” I return.
Mrs. Lenard stuffs as much ice into the glasses as possible and then pours the fresh, sweet tea to the top and adds a small slice of lemon to the rim. “They’re all set,” she announces, handing them both to me.
As I make my way to the back door, Mrs. Lenard scurries to open it for me. The dogs follow as I make my way over to the large tree that is being chopped up not far from the house. The tree is huge and we’ve been taking bets on whether the tree would go or not before Gerald finally hired someone to remove it. He kept saying he’d get around to doing it. Well, it looks like the tree made the final decision.
The low grumble of the chainsaw gains in volume and pulses through my chest as I approach the first worker. Esther said that there were two, but I only see one. His shirt is off and sweat glistens on his perfectly tanned back as his muscles flex while yielding the heavy piece of equipment. Tiny shavings of saw dust fly in the air and land on his arms and shoulders, making him look like he’s a God carved from wood. My lady parts tingle, enjoying the spectacle before me and wonder at the size of his piece of wood.
I stand a few feet away, enjoying the view while I wait for him to either turn off the saw or stop. “Hey!” I yell when he checks his cut.
He doesn’t respond.
“Hey!” I shout louder.
My gut flips when I start to see his face, realizing that I’ve just been admiring a half naked Aiden. My eyes dart to the far right of the tree and catch a glimpse of their truck, his truck.
“Hey!” he greets with a smile. Aiden turns off the chainsaw and steps forward. “I thought we lost you there.”
“No, you didn’t,” I challenge.
“Well, I missed you,” he shares. “Is that for me?” He looks down and gestures to the drinks in my hands.
“No,” I lie, taking a sip of one.
“Then, why do you have two of them?” he checks.
“This one is mine,” I say.
“And, the other one?”
“Did you hit a knot?” A man’s voice calls from the other side of the thick trunk. “Oh, hey, Laurie,” Paul greets.
“Hi,” I return. “This is for you.” I take a few steps toward him and hand him the other glass.
“That was sweet of you,” he comments.
“It was Esther’s idea,” I share.
“What’s wrong with yours?” Paul asks Aiden. “Aren’t you thirsty?”
“This one is mine,” I state, not allowing Aiden to comment.
“Huh,” Paul sighs with a smirk. “Good to see you again, Laurie. I’d stay and chat, but this monster of a thing won’t cut herself.”
“Sounds good,” I laugh.
Not long after Paul disappears around the tree, I hear a chopping sound. I’m not sure who got the easier task; Aiden with the chainsaw or Paul with the ax.
“Hey, Pix,” Aiden says, suddenly a few inches behind me.
I take a large gulp of the tea as I turn around. “Hi,” I return.
We look at each other, neither of us saying anything, both waiting for the other to speak first. Thank God I have my sunglasses on, because I can’t stop staring at his lips. Part of me wants to kiss him again. The other part of me wants to slap him, and myself, for even thinking about it.
“Give the man his tea,” Mrs. Lenard’s voice faintly shouts across the lawn.
My hand extends forward, and as soon as Aiden takes it, I turn to head back to the house. Two steps out, he tugs me around.
“Everything okay?” he checks with worry in his tone.
“Fine,” I answer coolly.
Aiden’s fingers tighten lightly around my arm as he chugs the tea until there’s none left. He hands the glass to me and I take it, but he doesn’t let go of the glass or my arm. “If you don’t mind, I could use another one,” he states seductively.
“Then, you can come and get it,” I return.
A devious smirk rises on his face. “Is that an open invitation?”
“Not with the way you just interpreted it,” I object.
“Too bad,” he says. “I was hoping to continue our non-verbal conversation from the last time I saw you.”
“Don’t count on it,” I inform, shaking my head lightly.
“Well, we are in a fake relationship,” Aiden reminds. “There will be other times to kiss you.”
“In public and that’s it,” I remind.
“I don’t think it would be good for people to see us kiss,” he comments.
“And, why is that?” I muse.
“Because, it’ll involve both of us being naked,” he returns with desire burning in his eyes.
“I gave you what you wanted,” I remind. “You wanted me to kiss you back like I liked it and I did.”
“I know you did,” he challenges.
“What?”
“Liked it,” he states.
“Liked what?”
“You liked it when I kissed you,” he accuses.
“Did not,” I counter.
“Did too,” he corrects, pulling my glasses down so he can see my eyes. “You didn’t want me to stop.”
“Bullshit,” I laugh.
“You’re eyes were dilated…like they are now,” he shares. “You were breathing heavy and
I could feel the heat from your crotch when your legs tightened around my waist.”
“Like I said…I gave you what you wanted,” I comment.
Aiden chuckles. “Deny it all you want, Pix…but, I know you wanted me then…and, you want me now.”
“You’re delusional,” I counter. “It must be heat stroke.”
“There is heat,” Aiden agrees. “But, a different kind.”
“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” I comment, brushing this conversation off.
“I don’t sleep,” he admits.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I laugh.
“I lie awake, thinking of what it would be like…what you would feel like,” he shares.
What the fuck did he just admit to? Check yourself, Laurie. Make sure your mouth isn’t open.
“Keep dreaming, because that’s the only action you’ll be getting from me,” I say with a snarky tone and pull away from him. I move quickly, taking large steps, wanting to distance myself.
“What was that about,” Mrs. Lenard comments as I climb the few steps up onto the back porch.
“Nothing. Why?” I reply.
“Stop teasing the man,” she charges. “Can’t you see that he’s in love with you? Everyone else sees it but you.”
“I see it,” I return flatly.
“Then, why are you toying with the man?” she asks. “You act like you like him one minute and then want to kill him the next. Make up your mind.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You can’t see what you’re afraid to admit to yourself,” Esther comments.
“And, what is that?” I ask.
“That you want to forgive him for all the hurt he caused you…because you still love him,” she states. “But, you’re too scared…afraid…thinking that your heart will just be broken again.”
“I’m not in love with him,” I laugh.
“Really?” she presses with a giggle.
“Really,” I verify.
“Then, why have you been spending so much time with him? You’re together a lot and when you’re in public you hug and kiss. ”
I don’t reply because there’s no way to explain it to her.
“You’re doing everything a couple does when dating…but sex,” she adds.
“How do you know I haven’t slept with him or anyone?” I bite back.
Esther gives me the stink-eye.
“What?”
“For the two years you were with Dr. Codie, you and he were never doing the things you do with Aiden in public. Plus, you’re wound like a top…you haven’t slept with him or anyone,” she states.
“I have,” I lie.
“I call bullshit,” Esther challenges.
I sit and stew, not liking how this whole situation is putting my love life out in the open: my fake love life and my real sex life. I wish I could explain the truth to Esther so she’d understand my predicament and so she and everyone else would back off.
Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Lenard shoos me to get the men to take a break and have another round of drinks as well as a snack to tide them over until lunch. Aiden sits on the porch, topless. They return to chopping down the tree while Esther reads with the dogs sitting on either side of her. I check her garden, wanting to clear out any weeds and gather up some fresh flowers to put in a vase for her living room.
Mr. Lenard returns home for lunch while I’m in the kitchen, as I finish making the sandwiches. “They’ve gotten a lot done,” he comments, looking into the back yard.
“Yes, they have,” Esther agrees, walking inside. “Gerald, dear…would you go please fetch them for lunch.”
“Sure, sweetheart,” Gerald agrees.
As they approach the table, Esther instructs everyone where to sit, purposefully forcing Aiden and I to sit next to one another. Conversations are light as everyone eats. Esther is talking most of the time while Paul and Aiden stuff their faces, obviously hungry. I bring out a strawberry shortcake for dessert and serve everyone upon Esther’s request. While I’m standing and dishing portions, Aiden’s right hand cups my calf. His fingers creep higher and then suddenly fall back down. He does this several more times. Each time his hand raises, he slides a few inches higher until he hits my mid-thigh. It takes all the willpower I have to not stab him with the knife.
The men help me clean up from lunch as Esther retires to the couch for an afternoon nap once’s she's inspected the tree and the work I’ve done in the garden. Gerald heads back to the office before Aiden and Paul resume their wood chopping. When it’s safe, I take out my iPad and double check my house and my hack of the surveillance for Quintin’s house. Nothing is being picked up on video, so I plug in my headset to see if there’s any audio. After about fifteen minutes of hearing nothing but a television on, I turn off the stream. With my headphones in and the music blaring on my phone, I proceed to tidy up the house for Esther, both inside and out.
“How much longer, sweetheart?” Esther checks, walking into the kitchen.
“About ten or fifteen minutes,” I answer.
“Good,” she returns. “I just told Aiden and his father to call it quits for the day and to come in and rinse off before we have dinner.”
“Sounds good,” I reply, chopping the vegetables.
“All we need to do is come back tomorrow to clean up and arrange your wood pile,” Paul states, coming inside the house.
“Wonderful,” Esther praises.
“Now, Laurie said that dinner will be in about ten minutes,” she begins, “so, why don’t you two wash up. There’s a bathroom down here and one up the stairs and down the hall on your left.”
“Thank you,” Paul returns.
“Yes, thank you,” Aiden says.
“My pleasure,” Esther returns. “The least I can do is feed and bathe you for all the work you’re doing for us.”
I snicker at the thought of Esther literally bathing them. That would be an interested sight.
“What’s so funny?” Esther questions.
“Nothing,” I deny.
She studies me a moment before continuing, “There’s a closet inside each bathroom with towels and whatever else you may need.”
Aiden heads upstairs and Paul follows Esther to the other bathroom. It looks like she just might be helping him bathe after all. Coming in from the garage, Gerald offers to help with dinner, but I turn him down, insisting that he should relax with a beer. I watch him through the window while checking the food on the grill.
“Laurie, dear,” Esther calls.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Would you do me a favor and get Aiden’s clothes for me?”
“What? Why?”
“I wanted to wash their things for them,” she informs. “I don’t want them going home with dirty, sweaty clothes on.”
“Why don’t you go get them?”
“You know these old bones can only go up and down stairs once or twice a day,” she replies.
“Nice try,” I challenge. “You’re not that old and I know you go up and down the stairs at least twenty times before needing a break.”
“Don’t sass me,” she directs. “Go get your man’s clothes so I can wash them.”
“He’s not my man,” I counter.
“Yes he is…and, it wouldn’t look right me going and getting his clothes,” she insists.
“He won’t mind,” I laugh.
“He wouldn’t mind you getting them,” she says, winking at me.
“Eww…gross,” I return. “That’s even more weird now that you’re implying I should join him.”
“I said no such thing,” she denies. “You’re the one who said it, so you should go and get them.”
“Dinners almost ready,” I remind. “There’s no way I would join him.”
“Well, I need his clothes before dinner is ready, so go,” she directs.
I huff irritation and stomp up the stairs.
“Don’t you break my steps,” she chides.
&
nbsp; “I’ll break them if I want…and then I’ll fix them,” I tease playfully.
“I’ll take a fly swatter to your butt, missy, for arguing with me,” she threatens.
“And, you know that I’ll like it,” I goad.
“Dirty girl,” she teases.
“Where do you think I get it from,” I play.
“I don’t know,” Esther denies with a wiry smile.
I smile in return before heading down the hall. When I get to it, I knock on the bathroom door, but Aiden doesn’t reply. Knocking again as I crack the door open, I call, “Aiden.”
“Yeah?”
“Where are your clothes?”
“I’m already out of them if you’re interested,” he chuckles.
“Funny,” I remark. “Esther wants to wash them.”
“Give him a pair of Gerald’s pants and a shirt, sweetie,” Esther shouts up the stairs.
“You coming in? I wouldn’t mind if you joined me,” Aiden says right as I shout down okay to Esther. “Laurie?”
“I was answering Esther,” I explain.
“Right,” Aiden baits.
“I’ll be right back,” I inform. As I head to Gerald’s dresser, I realize that I just made it sound like I might be taking him up on his offer.
Shit! This is not going to be good.
I grab a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants from the drawer and head back to the bathroom. Knocking before entering, I wait to make sure that the water is still running.
“It’s open,” Aiden informs.
I move slowly, not wanting to suddenly see something I don’t want to see. “I have a shirt and sweats from Gerald that you can wear until your clothes are clean,” I inform.
“Sounds good,” Aiden answers from my left.
I turn my head to the right to avoid seeing anything only to catch a Full Monty in the mirror. The glass is only slightly fogged along the edges from moisture since the window is wide open. My eyes slowly trail down the naked form of Aiden’s entire body that is blurry behind the steamy, glass shower doors. When he turns to rinse his head, my gaze follows something rather large that swings slightly just below his waist.
“You going to stand there and stare or are you going to join me, Pix?” he coaxes.
“I’m not staring,” I return, trying to sound composed.
Killmore Page 22
