Before I could ring the bell, Tabs swished open the door. “Honey! You’re here! Come in, y’all, come in.” She gave me a hug and took the wine I offered.
Randy came into the living room where he shook hands with Zac and slapped his shoulder lightly. As physically fit as Zac, Randy was a few inches shorter, and slightly less broad. His mousy hair and goatee seemed to be in perpetual need of a trim.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral,” Randy said. “My sympathy for the loss of your Aunt Ceci. I know she’ll be missed.” He smiled ruefully.
“Yes, we’ll both miss her,” Zac said. “Very much.”
Randy turned to me and offered an understanding hug. “Good to see you, Dash. Tabs says you’re staying through the weekend?”
“Yes,” I said. “I had to beg one of my co-workers to give up part of his holiday-week vacation to fill in for me at the last minute.”
“I bet you didn’t have to beg too much,” Randy said. “All you had to do was flash that pretty smile and the guy turned to putty. I’m glad you’ll get to be here for the Fourth of July celebration tomorrow.” He winked at Zac, then they headed out to the back yard to tend to the charcoal on the grill.
Tabs gave me a tour. It was a cozy home, with two smallish bedrooms, one bath, a quaint old kitchen with an eating area, and a living room. The entire interior had been repainted in shades of dusty blue, light steel grays, and cream. A new area rug and throw pillows spiffed up the living room. It reflected her generous personality and was perfect for the two of them.
“I wish you would’ve stayed with us like I asked,” she said. “You wouldn’t have been in the way at all.”
“I didn’t want to intrude on you two. Besides, I like to have my own space.”
“How’s it going with Zac?” She sounded a little too casual as we stood in the kitchen, opening the wine. I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” she said. “It’s obvious he’s crazy about you. According to Randy, he always has been, though he didn’t admit it to himself for a long time.” Tabs brought the bottle when we wandered into the living room with our glasses and sat on the slipcovered sofa.
“I don’t believe that,” I said. “Zac’s being extra nice to me because he knows how hard it is to lose Aunt Ceci, that’s all. Randy’s exaggerating.”
“There you go again, selling yourself short. You’re beautiful and have a heart of gold, and it’s about time you admitted it. And it’s also time you considered settling down. It’s nice to have a man snuggled up in your bed every night. You still doing the one-night-stand thing?”
I’d never told her all the details about my “just-sex hookups.” I was ashamed to admit how often I prowled the bars carefully chosen in order to avoid seeing anyone I knew. They were the kind of places military men from the nearby Air Force bases trolled for easy sex. I never brought the men back to my apartment; they were never given my real name or phone number.
“Shh,” I said. “Not so loud! Yes, I am. My ‘hookups’ are the best way to get the sex I need, as often as I need it, without any strings. I don’t want the problems that come with relationships.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Relationships don’t always lead to problems, Maddie. We’re at the age people start making commitments and settling down. We’re not kids anymore. You need to find a nice guy who’s ready to find a nice girl. Like Zac. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “I’m not ready to settle down. You know I have a hard time trusting people. Especially men. And I’m not a nice girl.” At that moment, Randy poked his head into the room. Uh oh. You’d better hope he didn’t hear that.
“We’re ready to put the steaks on, hon,” he said. Tabs went into the kitchen with him, and I refilled my wine glass. I had a hunch I was going to need it.
“Where were we? Oh, I remember,” Tabs said when she came back. I was hoping she’d drop it. “I’m concerned about you, honey. I think you’re using sex to prove to yourself that you’re worthy. In the long run, one-night stands once a month won’t make you feel loved.” I didn’t volunteer that it was a lot more often than that. BOB wasn’t enough to replace a flesh-and-blood man, and I found myself wanting the real thing more and more.
“It can make me feel multiple orgasms,” I said, poker-faced. “And don’t knock the benefits of a good cardio workout.”
She giggled. “I love me some good orgasms as much as the next girl. Believe you me, Randy can rock my world.”
“Then,” I said, attempting to steer the conversation to something else. “Is Randy the one?”
She stared at the ceiling with glazed eyes. “Yes, I think he is.” She snapped out of her daydream and cut me a sharp look. “Don’t change the subject. I know how much Derek hurt you.” I snorted in derision. Saying “Derek hurt you” was like saying an amputation without anesthesia caused minor discomfort. It was during my junior year in college, and I’d dated Derek eight months. I’d been completely in love, trusting him enough to lose my virginity to him. He was less than thrilled when he found out. I was shattered when he’d ended our relationship by saying I’d never completely opened up to him. I’d “never revealed my authentic self” were his exact words. I was deeply depressed for so long, Tabs had talked me into going to counseling my senior year. I promised myself I would never be that vulnerable again. It was a promise I always kept.
I realized she was talking. “…an asshole. That was a long time ago, Maddie. Limiting your relationships to one-night stands? Well, I worry it means you don’t know the difference between having sex and making love.”
Jesus! What is this, a Fix-Madisen Conspiracy? “God, you sound like Zac,” I said. “Why doesn’t anyone think I’m capable of intimacy? If the right guy comes along, I’ll know it.” Yeah, right. You keep telling yourself that. “I’m not going to hold my breath,” I added, decisively.
She leisurely took a sip of wine and concentrated on picking a piece of lint off the pillow. “So,” she said slowly. “I guess by now you heard about Zac and Elaine’s…” She made air quotes. “…engagement?”
What the fuck? I was taking a sip of wine, and I gagged mid-swallow. The wine went down the wrong way, and my eyes bulged as I coughed uncontrollably, practically suffocating.
She patted me on the back. “I’ll take that as a no.”
My voice was hoarse from the coughing and sudden lump in my throat. “Why didn’t you tell me? Elaine and Zac! Engaged!”
“Oh, they never officially got engaged.” Tabs tossed her long hair over her shoulder, apparently satisfied she was finally making progress. “I don’t know what got into him, maybe temporary insanity. Somehow that witch convinced him to go out with her. It lasted a couple of months. Zac must’ve had some sense knocked into him because he broke it off. To hear her talk, you’d think they were about to walk down the aisle and say their ‘I do’s.’ How he could stand being with her for that long, I don’t know.”
Pouring the last of the wine into my glass while trying to appear unconcerned, I rasped, “When was this?”
“He ended it about ten months ago. She talks bad about him behind his back, but would stoop to anything to get him to go out with her again. As if he would. Like my daddy always said, ‘You can’t shit in one hand and eat out the other.’”
“I guess that explains what she said to him after the vigil. That he knew how to get in touch with her.” My hand flew up to cover my mouth. “Oh my God! Did they sleep together?”
“I doubt it,” Tabs said, quickly backpedaling. “Who could blame any girl for wanting to? Mm, mm, mmm. With that body of his? Even though Zac obviously knows how good-looking he is, he’s a great catch. You need to take the opportunity to see how things develop between you two.” She went to the kitchen and brought back a second bottle of wine.
“I don’t know. Zac and me? Aren’t we like brother and sister? And we live so far apart
.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” she scoffed. “He hasn’t looked at you like a sibling since you were a freshman in high school. And neither have you. There are ways to manage the distance.” She could see my hesitation, so she pressed, “Come on, you’ve known him your whole life. He’s a good guy.”
“I know he is. Probably too good for me. Besides, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to trust a man enough to let him get close.”
“You have to be willing to learn,” she said. “I bet Zac is the right one to teach you how to open your heart.”
Chapter 10
WE’D EMPTIED THE second bottle of wine by the time Zac and Randy brought the T-bone steaks in from the grill. Tabs opened another as Randy took heavenly smelling baked beans and yeasty dinner rolls out of the oven. We sat down at the table that was already set with a green salad, potato salad, and watermelon slices. It was all scrumptious. I caught Zac smiling at me as I dug in with gusto.
During dinner, I noticed the affection Randy showered on Tabs. It was in the little things he did. He topped off her wine. He turned on the ceiling fan when she waved a hand at her face. The biggest thing was that he gave her his full attention when she spoke, actually listened to her. I wasn’t prepared for the emptiness that hit me when I realized I would never experience that.
When we finished our meal, we brought the bottle to the living room and settled on the sofa. As Zac and Randy conversed, Tabs and I put our heads together to whisper about our college days. We reminisced about the times we’d gone out partying, and our “sexperiences,” as we called them. We often dissolved into giggles that left us rolling back on the cushions. Randy and Zac watched us with bemused tolerance until I picked up the bottle to refill my glass. I was confused when nothing poured out of it.
“Tabs! Bottle’s empty!” I declared. Zac quickly suggested we call it a night, and Randy hurriedly agreed. I pouted, which made Zac laugh as he insisted it was time to go.
After hugging Tabs and declaring her my very best friend in the whole world for the third time, Zac peeled me away and coaxed me outside. At the truck, he half-lifted, half-pushed me in and fastened the seatbelt. After he shut the door, I slowly slumped against it, unable to resist the urge to rest my eyes for a minute. Zac chuckled.
I opened one eye and glared at him. “What? What’s funny? I’m not drunk, you know.”
“If you say so.” We drove in silence for a few minutes, and I closed my eyes again. “Can I ask you something?” His tone was somber.
“Ask away.” I waved a limp hand, keeping my lids shut.
“Why did you wait so long to come back to me?” Both my eyes shot open at that.
“You need to ask me that after what happened with Father last night?”
“It seems to me your father is a separate issue,” he said. “Ten years of avoiding the pain of Angeline’s death only postponed the inevitable. I never took you for a coward.”
I popped straight up in the seat, incensed. “How dare you judge me! You have no idea what it’s like having to deal with all this crap. With everyone knowing your family’s shit and hating you for it. Knowing you could’ve saved her. Knowing people despite you for her death, and everyone blames you in this godfortaken sound. Godfort. Godforsaken town!” I spluttered to furious silence as Zac snickered. “Don’t you laugh at me! You arrogan sasshole!” I slowed down to enunciate each word clearly. “You. Arrogant. Asshole!”
He parked the truck and held up his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. We can talk about it later.” I didn’t wait for him to come around to my door. After I unfastened the belt, I shoved with both hands and hung on as it swung wide. I would’ve landed a belly flop on the pavement if he hadn’t grabbed me in the nick of time.
“Get your hands off me. I told you, I’m not trunk." I swatted at him.
“So you keep saying.” He couldn’t hide his laughter as I tottered to the door. I dug the card key out of my purse and tried to unlock it. Three times.
“Damn it,” I muttered. I was still mad, and wouldn’t look at Zac when he took the card and opened it on the first try. I leaned back against the frame, struggling to keep from drifting off.
“I'll pick you up at eight o’clock tomorrow night,” he said.
That woke me up. The bastard. "Oh, no. If you think—"
“You're right,” he interrupted. “I don’t think that’ll give us enough time for dinner. I'll pick you up at seven.”
Dinner? "Hell no. No way. I don’t wanna—”
“—be late? Okay, be ready at six thirty." He stepped close. I felt his warm breath on my face as he drilled his stern yet amused chocolate eyes straight into mine. "And no more using that Mr. Buzzy Boyfriend of yours. The more hot and bothered you become, the sooner you'll reach the inevitable conclusion that we’re going to be lovers.”
WHAT? I took a breath and lifted a finger to poke him in the chest. I didn’t have a chance to get any words out. He’d already pulled me against him and set his lips firmly on mine. I opened my mouth to protest and froze when our tongues met. The kiss was gentle and warm.
As his tongue started stroking, I responded without thinking. I rolled mine lazily with his, then sucked on his lower lip. That easily, I was wrenched into hyperawareness of his scent, his taste, the feel of his torso against mine, the press of his strong thighs.
God almighty! How could he excite me that quickly? I moaned as he slid his hand low on my back to grind our hips together. My nipples became sensitized. Heat flashed between my thighs, making me wet. I wanted him, no, needed him to touch me.
I rubbed my palm slowly up the hard wall of his chest to the back of his neck, arching my back. He groaned into my mouth when my peaked nipples thrust against him. He slid a hand between our bodies to trail the back of his fingers across a taut nub with agonizing slowness. I mewled softly and tilted my pelvis. Through my mental fog, I registered his erection against my stomach. I needed more. Of that. Now.
Abruptly, Zac stepped back and let me go. I clunked against the doorframe. The fuzziness in my wine-soaked brain made swimming back to reality a slow process. I broke the surface when he closed my jaw with one finger. Hooking his thumbs in his pockets and wearing a grin, he swaggered to his truck. He climbed in and drove off without saying a word.
I followed its path with wide eyes. “We're NOT gonna be lovers!” I yelled at the taillights.
Damn it, Madisen. You shouldn’t have gotten so drunk.
~~~
I woke at three a.m. with a headache that could’ve knocked over a bull and an urgent need to pee. I barely managed to stay up long enough to take some painkillers and drink two glasses of water. I stumbled back to bed and, in a hazy dream, floated back to the summer I turned nine…
From the pond, I saw Angeline huddled behind a bush. I walked over to her and asked, “What’re you doing?”
“Shh!” She motioned for me to squat down behind her and pointed through the undergrowth to Bobby Wittford several yards away. He was standing in profile, leaning against a tree. His head lolled back, and he was smiling. His pants were around his thighs, and he was pumping his fist up and down in front of himself.
“What’s he doing?” I asked quietly.
“He’s jerking himself off,” she whispered back. At my confused look, Angeline sighed. “You know, having sex without a girl.”
I stared at Bobby, unable to force myself to stop watching. He began thrusting his hips, and his hand beat up and down faster and faster until he was in a frenzy. Finally, he grunted loudly and slumped against the trunk. After resting a while, he wiped his hand on his jeans, pulled them up, and zipped. He turned to look straight at us, smiled wickedly, winked, and ambled away.
It was ten o’clock the next time I peeled my eyes open. Right there in the presence of God Himself and all his holy saints, I made a solemn promise that I would never ever drink that much wine again. If I lived. I also vowed I’d find a way to make certain Tabs suffered as much as I was.
Positive that at any moment my head would crack open from the jackhammering in my skull, I swallowed more pain relievers. I drank as much water as possible, hoping it would flush away the brain cells I’d thoughtlessly killed. I cleaned the tiny cardigans from my teeth and went back to bed.
I slept two more hours after the acetaminophen kicked in. Waking again, I was almost capable of walking upright on two legs like the intelligent human being I was supposed to be.
I picked up the clothes that trailed from the door to the bed. I must’ve dropped them as I staggered across the floor last night, though I didn’t remember. Thinking my stomach wouldn’t tolerate food, I made coffee in the little pot in my room. I wished I could have a super-sized espresso.
Deciding that exercise might help my hangover and get the blood flowing, I spent a long time stretching on the floor while consuming my daily requirement of caffeine. I gingerly did crunches, pushups, squats, and leg lifts, drinking more water and resting in between.
I spent the whole time thinking about Zac. My anticipation of being with him was palpable. I fantasized about his hands on me, his kiss on my lips. You’re acting like a school girl, Madisen, I berated myself. Just because he’s a walking, talking orgasm doesn’t mean you have to make a fool of yourself. The irony was I didn’t respond to him like a girl. I responded like a grown woman. He had that effect on me.
The hangover was much better after a hot shower and lunch. I decided to indulge in a session with BOB. I was too stubborn to let Zac dictate if, or when, I could use him. I’d enjoy him as much as I pleased! It didn’t escape me that I was being a tiny bit childish.
Unfortunately, BOB seemed to have lost his knack to relax me like he did the day before. After nearly three-quarters of an hour, he was running out of juice, and I finally gave up in frustration.
Chapter 11
I PUT MY CLOTHES BACK ON and slumped on the bed in boredom...
Father and I were at the cemetery, sitting on the warm summer grass. He was in front of me with knees bent, elbows resting on them. His head hung between his hands, his shoulders shrugging with sobs. “Oh, my precious Angel,” he gulped. “I can’t believe you left me. Who will love me now, Angel?”
The Art of Going Home (The Art of Living series Book 1) Page 5
