by Beth Ehemann
Michelle’s lips spread into a wide grin as she looked from Gam to me and back again with a twinkle in her eyes. We had no idea where it came from, but a while ago Gam had started calling Maura “Little Mo,” and it was Michelle’s favorite thing. Matthew and Maura still saw Mike’s parents whenever they came into town, but with them living on the other side of the country, Gam was their only consistent grandparent. But I knew the twinkle in Michelle’s eye wasn’t just for Little Mo. Michelle loved Gam, and Gam loved Michelle. They had an instant, intense connection that I couldn’t quite put my finger on, but sometimes I was pretty sure if Gam was forced to choose one of us, I’d be on the outside looking in.
“You guys come on in.” Gam waved her arm, walking toward her house. “I made your favorite. Blueberry breakfast cake.”
“Yay!” Matthew threw his arms in the air excitedly.
As we stepped onto her creaky wooden porch steps, something off to the right caught my eye.
“That’s cool. Where’d you get that?” I said, taking a couple steps closer to the new, brightly painted coffee table that sat in front of her white wicker couch.
“You like that? I made it,” she said proudly.
“What?” I looked at her incredulously. “No, you didn’t.”
She nodded. “I sure did. Got a bunch of those pallets from the dumpster behind the grocery store and followed a plan I found on Pinterest. I made it, then I painted it. Voila.”
I looked back and forth from her to the table a couple times, processing what she’d just said.
“What?” she asked defensively after I didn’t respond.
“I just . . . wow. I can’t believe you did that. You’re almost ninety. Shouldn’t you be rocking in a chair, knitting your handsome grandson a sweater?”
“I would, but I don’t think it would fit past that swollen head of yours,” she joked as she turned and opened her screen door.
I leaned down, close to Michelle’s ear. “Speaking of swollen heads, I have two . . .”
She let out a quick gasp seconds before I took a sharp elbow to the ribs.
We followed Gam through the door and instantly . . . it smelled like home. Her house was small but cozy, and it always smelled like cinnamon and sugar.
“Mmmm,” Michelle hummed with a smile on her face. “It smells amazing in here.”
“Thanks!” Gam replied proudly. “I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and made a double batch at four o’clock this morning.”
Michelle pulled her brows down low. “You what?”
“She’s always done that, didn’t you know?” I answered with a laugh. “When she can’t sleep, she cooks. Sometimes it’s meatballs, sometimes it’s spaghetti. This morning, I guess it was a double batch of blueberry breakfast cake.”
Michelle looked from me to Gam in amazement, her eyes wide. “I had no idea!”
“Eh! Stupid insomnia.” Gam waved a quick hand. “I just figure instead of lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, why not wake up and cook?”
Michelle giggled. “I don’t even want to cook when I should be cooking, let alone when I should be sleeping.”
“I don’t know why you’re not tired at night,” I said in an accusatory tone as I picked up a piece of paper from her kitchen table. “What’s this about?”
Gam glanced at the paper and let out a tiny chuckle. “That’s nothing.”
“What is it?” Michelle craned her neck, trying to read over my shoulder.
“It’s a letter. ‘Dear Ms. Finkle . . . We are writing to alert you of an official complaint we’ve received from a neighbor about you and another individual driving human transporting vehicles through his or her flowers.’”
“Human transporting vehicle?” Michelle asked in a confused tone.
“I think it’s a Segway,” I answered dryly.
Michelle’s mouth dropped open, her blue eyes as wide as they could go as we both looked up at Gam in unison. She stood at the sink with her back to us, her shoulders shaking slightly.
“Are you laughing?” I asked in disbelief.
As she turned slowly, she reached up and wiped the corner of her eye with a tissue. “Sorry. It’s just so funny.”
“Wait. This is for real?” Michelle exclaimed. “When did you get a Segway? And who were you with? Whose flowers did you ruin?”
Gam walked across the kitchen and handed Matthew an oatmeal cookie, then broke another one into small pieces for Maura and set them on her stroller tray.
“It wasn’t that big of a deal. Marge ‘I-Haven’t-Had-A-Boyfriend-In-Forty-Years’ Cooper got her undies all in a bunch and called the office on me and Regina for having a little fun.”
“You skipped the part about getting a Segway,” I grumbled, feeling more like her overprotective father than her grandson.
“Phil’s grandson sells them. We got a great deal,” she answered nonchalantly.
I held my hand up. “Wait a second. Who’s Phil?”
Gam stared at me blankly before her eyes shifted over to Michelle. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Tell me what?”
“I didn’t have a chance yet,” Michelle answered Gam, ignoring me.
I let out a heavy sigh, my frustration growing. “Someone better tell me what’s going on right now before I—”
“Oh, calm down, you big baby,” Gam interrupted. “Phil is my friend. He comes over often and has dinner with me. Sometimes we watch movies. Sometimes we go for a walk.”
“Sometimes they hold hands,” Michelle added with a little giggle.
“You have a boyfriend?” I roared.
Gam put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “He’s not a boyfriend, he’s my friend.”
“You’re almost ninety years old. What do you need a boyfriend for?” I complained, completely ignoring what she’d just said.
She looked straight at me, raising her eyebrows slowly. “I don’t know, Lawrence. What do you need a girlfriend for?”
My stomach rolled as Michelle let out another giggle. I decided to stop asking questions about Phil right then and there.
After we visited with Gam for a while, went to the zoo, had ice cream, and went to Matthew’s favorite train restaurant for dinner, we all went back to Michelle’s house for the night.
Maura’s sweaty little head rested on my shoulder as I carried her into the house and up to her room. It was barely dark out but she was already having trouble keeping her eyes open.
“You tired, baby girl?” I asked as I changed her diaper and slipped pajamas over her head.
She yawned and rubbed her eyes, her cheeks pink from the sun. When she was dressed, I picked her up off the changing table and walked over to her crib. As I started to pull her away to lay her down, she whimpered and gripped me tighter. Closing my eyes, I wrapped my arms around her and laid my head on the top of hers and rocked back and forth.
After a couple minutes, I heard the door push open against the carpet and Michelle quietly walked up next to me. “Well aren’t you two the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“She didn’t want to lie down yet, so I thought I’d rock her for another minute.”
She leaned her head against my biceps. “It must have worked. She’s sound asleep,” she whispered.
“Seriously?”
She nodded.
I cradled Maura’s head in my hand and gently laid her down in her crib. She sighed and immediately rolled onto her side as I covered her with her fuzzy pink blanket.
Michelle stepped up next to me and stared down at her. “Isn’t she just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”
“She really is.” I nodded before looking over at her. “Where’s Matthew?”
“He was out before I left the room.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. Why?”
I wiggled my eyebrows up and down before picking her up and tossing her over my shoulder.
“Ahhhh!” she squealed. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Shhh! Don’t wake the kids,” I warned. “It’s been six days and at this point, even if they wake up they’re just gonna have to sit in the hallway and wait until we’re done.”
She chuckled the whole way down the hall to her room. Once inside, I kicked the door shut with my foot, set her down, cupped her face in my hands, and clamped my mouth over hers. She leaned into me and moaned in satisfaction as our tongues met. Without breaking our kiss, she walked backward toward the bed, pulling me with her by the waistband. My hands left her face and found the button of her jean shorts, undoing it as quickly as I could.
As we reached the foot of the bed, her shorts fell to the floor and her lips left mine so that she could pull her T-shirt over her head.
“I hate being away from you,” I said, wrapping my arm around her waist and lifting her onto the bed.
“I hate it, too,” she said, pulling me down on top of her.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “If you don’t slow down, I’m not gonna last very long.”
“I don’t want it slow,” she said, pulling my shirt off. “Six days is a long time for me, too. Now show me how much you missed me.”
Her words made my heart thump hard against my chest and adrenaline shoot through my body. Michelle didn’t talk like that often, but when she did, it did crazy things to me.
As I lowered my mouth back down to hers, my hand dipped in between her legs and I could feel how much she missed me.
“My God,” I said against her mouth. “You’re already ready to go.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” she panted back.
That’s all it took. I couldn’t wait anymore. Her mouth fell open and she let out a low groan, digging her fingers into my shoulders as I pushed myself inside of her slowly.
“That’s the last time I’m gonna be soft tonight,” I warned playfully, kissing the corner of her mouth.
“Good,” she said breathlessly.
I studied every inch of her beautiful face as I moved in and out of her. Everything about Michelle was intoxicating to me—her body, her voice, her smell—but nothing, and I mean nothing, turned me on more than the faces she made when we were having sex.
She pinched her eyes shut tight as she bit her bottom lip.
“Open your eyes,” I ordered. “Look at me.”
“I can’t. I’m gonna—Oh God.”
“Now. Open them. I want to watch you.”
She flicked her eyes open and raised her hips off the bed, grinding against me.
“Oh, Viper,” she groaned as I pumped faster, the sound of our skin slapping together filling the room. I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against me, every thrust bringing me closer and closer to finishing.
“Oh God!” she called out, arching her back as she squeezed her thighs around me. That was it. That was her sign. When she clenched and every muscle in her body tightened up, I knew that she was there.
“Don’t look away,” I grunted, not far behind her. Staring straight into her hazy blue eyes, I pushed harder. “I need to watch you as I fill you.”
One last push and I stilled. My cock contracted, releasing six days’ worth of cum and tension. I moved one hand down to her hip, holding her tight as I groaned and thrusted slowly a few more times.
Michelle lifted both hands, cradling my face. “I love the hell out of you, you know that?”
“I do know that.” I lowered my head and gave her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “And I love the hell out of you, too. Be right back.” I stood up and walked to the bathroom, returning with a towel for her. I cleaned up quickly and hopped back into bed without getting dressed.
She rolled onto her side and eyed me suspiciously.
“What?” I asked defensively through a laugh.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yep.”
“A serious something. No joking, okay?”
“Oh boy. Okay . . . hit me.”
“You do that a lot when we’re having sex—wanting me to look right at you—but I’ve never asked why.”
I stared up at the can light in the ceiling, trying to figure out how to answer her question. I knew the answer, but I wasn’t sure how to say it to her.
“Do you really want me to answer that? Honestly?”
Her eyes widened as she swallowed nervously. “Of course.”
I took a deep breath and rolled on my side to face her. “I’ve been with a lot of women in my life, especially the last few years, and you already know that most of them were one-night stands or quick fucks in a car outside of the bar or whatever.”
Her eyes dropped to the bed.
“Don’t do that.” I reached over and lifted her chin. “You don’t even know what I’m gonna say, so stay with me.”
She lifted her face and nodded.
“Anyway,” I continued. “When I was with them, I didn’t care about them. I didn’t know anything about them . . . their favorite color, what they did for a living, even some of their names. I didn’t want to know about them, and I certainly didn’t want to look them in the eye when I was inside of them because they were just a fuck, simple as that.”
She recoiled, pinching her eyes shut at my harsh words, but quickly reopened them and came back to me.
“But when you and I got together, it was different. From the very first time it was different.” I reached out and tucked a stray blond hair behind her ear. “You were the first girl I loved before I had sex with her. Hell, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved, period.”
Her lips curled into a tiny smile. “Really?”
“Really. And not only did I want to learn every single thing about you, I wanted to look at you. All the time I wanted to look at you. I still do. And when you come, and you’re looking into my eyes, it does things to me, Michelle. It makes me primal, animalistic. Like I want to climb up on the roof, pound on my chest, and tell the whole world that you’re mine.”
“Wow, that was not the answer I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know,”—she shrugged—“but not that. Just when I think I have you all figured out, Lawrence Finkle, you show me a whole new layer that I didn’t even know existed.”
I let out a quick laugh. “What can I say? I’m a complicated asshole.”
“You are complicated, but you’re definitely not an asshole. Not even close.”
Leaning forward, I gently grabbed the back of her head and pulled her lips to mine. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Viper,” she said, with as much sincerity as I’d ever heard. “Now let’s talk about this professing your love from the rooftops thing a little more. You know I’m totally okay with that, right?”
“Good morning, boys!” I bellowed, holding my arms out straight as I walked through the doors of the Wild’s locker room. Most of the guys looked up quickly, then immediately went back to what they were doing, but Brody stared at me with raised eyebrows.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” he asked, then shook his head quickly. “Never mind. Forget it. I probably don’t want to know.”
Louie slipped his foot in his skate and shook his head. “He probably got laid this morning or something.”
Ignoring my young, annoying teammate, I walked up behind Brody and slapped my hands down hard on his shoulders, shaking them slightly. “Why not be in a good mood, Mr. Murphy? Life is amazing!”
Brody chuckled and shook his head as he bent down to buckle up his leg pad. “Yep. He definitely got laid.”
“I did,” I admitted proudly. “Last night I had amazing, mind-blowing sex with the hottest woman in the world, and I’ll probably do it again tonight, so fuck all of you.”
Louie rolled his eyes and headed out of the locker room toward the ice. Once he was out of earshot, I bent down close to Brody. “That’s not the only reason I’m in a good mood though.”
Brody jumped up from the bench and whipped around. “Let’s agree never to whisper someth
ing like that that close to my ear ever again. Deal?”
“Shut up, asshole,” I snapped back, wadding up a towel and throwing it at him.
He caught it as it bounced off his face.
“I had a dream,” I said excitedly. “About you and me—“
He held a hand up in the air. “Seriously, dude. Stop. I don’t want to hear any more.”
“Listen! I had a dream that we opened a bar. Together. And it was fucking awesome.”
“A bar?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Like a drinking bar?”
“No,”—I rolled my eyes—“a sleeping bar. Yes, you idiot, a drinking bar.”
He shrugged his shoulders and tossed the towel into a big bin in the corner of the room. “Why would we do that? What’s the point?”
“We’re not getting any younger, man. Let’s strike while the iron’s hot. Why wait until we’re old and no one gives a shit about us anymore?” I set my bag in my locker and started pulling practice clothes out of it.
“Wait a minute.” He straightened up and blinked a couple times. “Are you being serious right now? I thought this was just a dream.”
“It was a dream, but it made me think. Let’s do it! Let’s open a bar together.”
“Holy shit, you really aren’t kidding.”
“I’m not! Think about it—it would be a badass sports bar with sports memorabilia and signed shit all over the place.”
“And while that sounds awesome, a lot more goes into owning a bar than cases of beer and signed hockey sticks, Viper.”
“I know, but I just have this gut feeling.”
He stared at me for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Last time you had a gut feeling, I ended up in Buckingham Fountain and you had to bail me out of jail, remember?”
“This is a different gut feeling. A good one. That whole fountain thing was . . . fucking stupid. I don’t know why you ever listened to me on that.”
He pressed his lips into a hard line and glared at me as he pulled his practice jersey over his head. “Let’s just go practice.”
“Think about it. Promise me you’ll at least think about it,” I called after him.
