by M. Mabie
As if I’d given him a command, he went to the fridge and pulled out a gallon-sized bag containing what I assumed were the chops in some kind of marinade. “Do you want a beer or a water or tea? I grabbed some Diet Mountain Dew, too. That’s what you like, right?”
What the heck was that feeling? A whooshing sensation barreled through me. His offer felt so luxurious; it was bizarre how such a tiny gesture could feel so big inside. Maybe I was just easy to please.
“I can get it,” I offered.
He put his palm up and reached into the cabinet for a glass, then pulled a water and a soda from his side-by-side refrigerator. It was a nice one. I had a million-year-old Whirlpool that I’d no doubt use until it quit. His had ice in the door. Fancy.
“Cubed or crushed?” he asked, holding the sea glass colored highball just shy of pressing the button.
“Crushed,” I answered.
When it was full he slid it over to me and then sent the soda the same way.
As I finished making my drink, I asked, “What did you do to the pork chops? What’s in that bag?”
He lifted it for inspection. “It’s High Life, soy sauce, Worcestershire, and some top secret spices. It’s the way my dad always did chops and steaks. Now I just do it too.”
I didn’t even care what the secret spices were. They sounded really good. Besides, any man who could cook—anyone who took the time to marinate for that matter—had my full confidence.
He gathered a roll of tin foil from a drawer, an old plastic grocery bag, and a few different seasonings. “Get your drink and grab that bag of corn over there, please. We’ll go out back.”
He waited by the French doors leading to the patio as I did what he’d asked. His hands were full, so I opened the doors. After Smokie trotted out, Aaron followed, and I shut the gorgeous paned door behind me.
It had been forever since I’d been in his backyard, but it was as impressive as ever. The perfect mix of sun and shade with a privacy fence that blocked out the rest of the town. The grass looked like a golf course and he had an in-ground pool. The patio hadn’t been covered back in high school and there was new outdoor furniture that was nicer than the stuff inside my house.
A relaxing oasis.
Goals as fuck.
God, I could get used to it.
Chapter Fifteen
AARON
I’d been trained to stay calm under pressure, but Faith being in my space sent every part of me into high alert. She came with a thrill I’d never found rushing into a burning building, a shot of adrenaline that was hard to replicate.
I unloaded my arms onto the stainless steel cart beside the grill. It had been on a whim that I’d swung by the store on my way home, and it was paying off. Pizza sounded good, but being alone was better.
The old house felt different with her in it. Fuller. Warmer. More like I was finally home.
I ignited the burners, and then watched her walk to the pool, checking it out. She glanced back over her shoulder, and the evening sun made a halo through her golden hair.
“Delaney would love this. She’s always trying to get me to take her to the pool in Dumont.”
Normally, she wore tension in her shoulders, but slowly I watched her begin to relax. I liked it.
More importantly, why hadn’t I offered to have them over before?
“You guys are welcome to swim whenever you want. It doesn’t get used much.”
“Really?” She walked back into the shade, took a seat at the table, and pulled an extra chair out, placing the vegetables on the ground between her slender legs.
I handed her the empty grocery sack, and she started to shuck a piece of sweet corn.
“If I were you, I’d be in there all the time.”
It was as good a time as any to invite her. “I’m having a party next weekend. Sunday afternoon. My family is coming down. Probably Hannah and Vaughn. Sunny and Rhett. Dean.” I checked the temperature on the grill and ripped a piece of aluminum from the roll. “Bring Delaney. It’ll be fun. I was going to ask Darrell and your mom anyway.”
The grill hadn’t taken long to heat up, so while she thought, I got the chops on and closed the lid.
After a while, she broke the calm silence. “Aaron, can I ask you something?”
I took a seat and situated the chair between us so I could work on a piece of corn too. Smokie wandered under the table and lay down on his side.
“Sure.” I tore the silk and leaves from the ear and discarded them into the bag with hers.
“Why all this now? I’m not complaining. It’s just out of the blue. You know?” Her eyes avoided mine as she spoke her mind and worked. “You didn’t want to date me in high school. You’ve never asked me out since you’ve been home. Now you’re inviting me to family get-togethers and making me dinner. I just don’t get it.” When she was satisfied with her first piece, when every strain of silk was gone, she continued with another.
Faith had a good point, and I wanted to be honest. It was the least I could do.
“I wanted to date you in high school,” I corrected. Facts were facts and she needed them.
Skeptically, she pursed her glossy lips and nodded to the side.
“It’s true. I did.”
“Whatever. I asked you out all the time. I basically threw myself at you for a full year and ... nothing. Then you left and never called. Never emailed. Again ... nothing.”
I’d been waiting a long time to have that conversation. It was the opportunity to own up to my shit.
“The short answer? I was dumb.” Finished with one cob, I reached for another. “Before I left, my whole senior year really, I wanted to be with you—more than what we were. It’s just that I couldn’t help but think it wouldn’t be fair to start something and then leave. Back then, I thought it would be easier on both of us if we were just friends. We were young and you still had two years of high school, then college.”
She paused what she was doing, closely watching me as she listened to me say things I’d never been brave enough to admit.
“When I left, I didn’t know when I was coming back or if I was coming back at all.” I looked at the ceiling and confessed, “But I didn’t know how much I’d miss you—either way. Then things happened.”
“And I got pregnant.” She started on another ear.
“Chad wasn’t good for you.”
She huffed and ripped the husk from the kernels with more aggression. “Tell me about it.”
I put my hand over hers, stilling her. It hadn’t been my intention to upset her again—I was acquiring a tendency to do that. It was hard stuff to talk about, but that didn’t mean we could avoid it.
When her blue-green eyes finally returned to mine, I said, “When I came back I wasn’t sure I was the best thing for you either, but I wanted to be, when the time was right. I hoped maybe someday, when things slowed down, I’d get another chance.”
“And that’s now?”
I hated the skepticism and doubt in her expression.
I went back to work. “I don’t know. It was just getting harder and harder to wait. More difficult to not be around you. Not be there for you. Not touch you or kiss you. Not spend time with you. It was too hard to not know you anymore.”
I grinned as a beautiful peachy color flushed across her cheeks, an improvement on the scowl the mention of Chad had put on her face. Happy for a shift in the right direction, I added, “Basically, in the short term, I want to make you pork chops and waste up your free time.”
Her bright eyes blinked slower, and her lips parted.
Before the moment was gone and I couldn’t resist touching her, I admitted, “Fay, it was wrong for me to hide how I’ve felt about you all this time, and I’m sorry I did it.”
She wet her lips. “If that’s the short term, then what’s the long term plan?”
I leaned in, needing to touch her. “Making you happy.”
She closed the gap between us, pairing my mouth with hers. She tasted sweet, but if I let
the kiss escalate, I’d totally fuck up dinner on our first date. That didn’t seem like setting a good precedence.
Leisurely, I slowed the kiss. “Let’s get this food out of the way so I can make out with you like I should have done when I was eighteen.”
“Okay.”
Delta. I loved putting that content look on her face.
As I stood, I placed a kiss on the top of her head and brought the corn with me to the grill. The chops were ready for a flip, and they filled the patio with their savory aroma.
While I grilled, she slipped into the house to use the restroom. When everything was almost ready, I made my way to the kitchen for plates and things we’d need to eat outside. From down the hall I heard her laugh, and my ears clung to the sound, listening for more.
Looking at her phone, she walked around the corner.
“See something funny in my bathroom?”
We headed out together and she giggled again. “I just read a funny message from my friend Noel.”
Noel? I scanned my brain for a Noel in town but came up short.
“A friend from college?”
“No.” She returned to her chair and took a sip of her drink. “Noel and I are part of this group. We’ve chatted for years. There was this blogger when I was pregnant. Her site was all about being a mom, and she shared tips and tricks and just stuff I was into back then. That’s how Noel, Emma, Abbey, and I met—through the Hostage Mommy.” She leaned on her forearms, over my teak table as she explained more. “Then the chick who ran the site, Jaclyn, up and disappeared one day. So we formed a chat message on Facebook to keep in touch with each other. They’re like my people. We were all new moms at the same time, and we just clicked.” She shrugged and handed me a plate when I pulled one of the chops off the grill. “We talk every day. Sometimes, I swear they’re the only people who really know me, and none of us have ever met in person.”
It was kind of odd, but it made sense too. “Like a support group?”
She chuckled. “Yeah, I guess, but I doubt support groups give each other this much shit.”
“What were they giving you shit about?” When both plates were full, I made sure the gas was off and sat down. “Butter?” I opened the tub and passed it to her.
She eyed the margarine like it was a hand grenade. “None for me, just salt and pepper.” She nabbed the shakers. “What were you asking? Oh, yeah. They were teasing me about you.”
I looked up from my plate. “Me? You told them about me?”
“Oh, yeah. They know everything.”
Everything? I didn’t even know everything.
Knife and fork in hand, she cut into her meat and popped a bite into her mouth, nodding at me as she chewed. “Shit, that’s a good chop.”
Eager to get more information, I said, “Thank you. What do they know?”
She took another bite and stared out into the yard while she chewed. “Um. They know how I was obsessed with you in high school. They know how I never thought you were ever going to talk to me again. You know what I mean, like really talk to me.” A deep blush hit the full apples of her cheeks and neck. “I sent them a pic of you cleaning out Darrell’s gutters.”
I choked. “What?”
“Oh, come on. You took your shirt off twenty feet away from my window. Girl code mandates sending a picture to my best friends.”
I supposed that’s where males and females differed. If I had a picture of Faith topless, I’d kill anyone who tried to look at it.
Kill. Anyone.
Then I imagined Faith topless and forgot what we were talking about. So I ate.
“Anyway, they think you’re hot.” She snickered. “And they know about the tires, and that I’m here now.”
After chowing down on the grilled corn and making a mess of myself, I wiped my mouth. “What do they say about all of it?”
Her eyes sparkled like jewels as she rolled them. “They like it.”
She noshed on a cob and grimaced when the juices ran down her chin. She scrambled for her napkin to wipe up.
Whose idea was corn on the cob for a first date?
Still, she was adorable and damn near ate as fast as I did. By the time my plate was clean, hers was close. However, she wasn’t able to finish the giant chop before pushing her plate away.
“I’m too full,” she said.
I’d give Smokie the leftover chop; he was being a good boy.
“Let me get this cleaned up.” The plates clinked as I piled them and loaded my arms with what I could carry inside. Faith helped, throwing the empty marinade bag into the corn trash and gathering the rest of the things I couldn’t get in one trip.
“So a pool party, huh?” she asked as she returned condiments to my refrigerator. Then she opened the other door to really check it out. “You could fit a body in this thing,” she claimed.
“Pool party. Cook-out. Have a few drinks.” Three drinks. “My nephew Ian might be here; he’s about Delaney’s age. I’m sure the Renfros will bring Sawyer. So Delaney will have someone to play with.”
“Del loves smaller kids. It makes her feel like the boss, and, boy, can she get mouthy. Sometimes thinking about her being a teen scares the ever-loving shit out of me.”
“You’ve got some time between now and then.” I threw the pieces of cut up pork into Smokie’s bowl on top of his food.
She leaned against the stainless steel and threaded her slim fingers into her hair, scratching her head. “Yeah, but it’s going fast.”
I didn’t know what to tell her, and I couldn’t change how she felt about time, but I could be there for her. Actions were supposed to be louder than words, right?
My hands were a mess, but I rubbed my knuckles up her arm and her eyes came back into focus. Her face was blank, but her pupils dilated and her lips parted as she drew a breath.
Operation Clean-up kicked into high gear because Operation Faith’s Mouth was becoming an urgent situation.
With two of us working, our mess was cleaned up in short order. I struggled to remember how long demo derbies usually lasted. Twenty-two hundred hours? Twenty-three? Although, I doubted Darrell and Di would be out that late. Either way, we only had a few hours, and I didn’t want to waste them.
She swayed against the counter beside me, folding my dishtowel. “A beer doesn’t sound too bad now.”
I sprayed the remaining suds out of the sink, and then suggested, “Okay, you grab ‘em. I’ll get a radio out of the garage and meet you out back.”
She nodded and gifted me with a relaxed grin, jumping right to it.
I made it halfway through the living room before returning. It would only take a minute, maybe two, to retrieve my Dewalt stereo, but I had an impatient urge. Something in my gut brought me back.
With two bottles in her hands, I met her walking through the dining room where I kissed her, lightning fast. I was tired of waiting until this or that, of putting off showing her affection, and dammit I couldn’t do it anymore.
Satisfied by her lips and the warmth she returned in the kiss, I pulled away.
“There. That’s better.” I jogged for the door to make up time.
She called, “Hurry,” behind me.
In record speed, I tore around the house, up the driveway to the garage, and grabbed the radio off the workbench. Through the gate in the backyard, I walked around the pool to her. She’d taken a seat on the two-person lounge chair and kicked off her sandals. Her legs were crossed, arms raised over her head, and the slightest sliver of her stomach peeked from under her shirt.
Relaxation suited her.
She’d put her phone and our drinks on the table to her left, and I took a seat beside her on the right, switched the radio on, and adjusted the volume to low. It played a country song about a guy who finally got the girl, and every word he sang rang true in my ears.
“I could sleep here.” Her head rolled to the side, facing me.
I sank farther into the back cushion and stared off into the orange sky abo
ve us.
“Anytime.”
It was easier to breathe when she was right there next to me, after dinner on a beautiful night. I stretched out, and in my periphery I watched her chest rise and fall.
We listened to the quiet music, and it was peaceful except for the occasional dog barking or truck going by. It was just us adjusting to each other’s company and a new shared privacy.
“So you were saying something about making out?” A laugh sprung from her chest and her face fell my way again. “I should warn you I’m so bad at this.”
I shifted to lie on my side, and she did the same. She tucked her petite hands under her hair and blinked at me in a way that could only be described as flirting. She used to look at me like that all the time, and I’d been too dumb to take advantage of it.
At a snail’s pace, still unfamiliar with her and how she liked being touched, my hand wandered to her hip and then her arm. She trembled beneath my fingers as I made my way up her neck and across her cheek to her bottom lip. Her eyes fell shut.
I could’ve looked at her all night, given the chance.
Her chin moved forward, just enough. Her lips searched for mine. When seconds passed without her needs met, her eyes fluttered open.
“Aaron, I can’t wait any longer.”
Foxtrot. Neither could I.
My arms found their way around her, and I pulled her body as close to mine as it could get. Her hands cupped my jaw.
Faith was more than worth the wait, but I’d been a fool to hold back for so long.
She arched into me and I rolled to my back, bringing her along. Her legs fell between my knees. Two petite hands held my face to hers, and every time she shifted or moved I could have sworn I was seconds from exploding in my Dickies shorts.
I suppose that was as close to teenage making out as you could get. She’d been rightfully warned.
My jaw flexed and I crooked my head to the side to capture more of her mouth with mine.
She moaned and said into my mouth, “I love when you do that.”
At eighteen, in that very situation, I probably would have been tearing at her shirt, trying to get her naked as fast as I could. Thank the Lord for what maturity I’d gained over the years because it let me enjoy the moment, just as it was.
