by Jenna Gunn
Chapter 11
Raina tugs the door open for me when I come back to her porch laden with Carmen’s things. I smile as I enter; she’s still holding Carmen, and when I close the door behind me, she turns and walks toward her kitchen.
My eyes are drawn to her hips. I can’t help but remember the last time we met. She was so fierce and in-charge; who knew all that fire could be bound up in such a small body? I remember us falling onto the couch, how she took control, how the only reason I gained control was because she let me.
Now, watching her coo and unwrap the blankets from Carmen’s squirmy little body, I have a hard time putting the two together. She’s so slight, so thin; unassuming, even. Well, except for how gorgeous she is, of course.
“You said something about solid foods,” she says as I place Carmen’s bed on the floor near the coffee table. “You haven’t started giving her meat yet, have you?”
“Not yet. I have a bottle with kitten formula.” I dig around in the beat-up duffel bag I’ve packed. “I fed her an hour ago, though, so she should be fine for a bit. She likes to wander,” I add warningly as Raina sets Carmen on the floor. “I was thinking about getting a big pen for her or something.”
“A pen?” Raina asks.
“Yeah; like a baby playpen, y’know?” I gesture vaguely with my hands, trying to mime out the shape of a playpen.
I see a smirk tug at her lips before she turns quickly away. She bends down and lets Carmen out of the blanket I bundled her into; Carmen wobbles around on the kitchen floor, sticking her paws out awkwardly.
“She’s such a cutie,” Raina sighs before turning to the fridge to pull out a huge pitcher of amber-colored tea.
“Yeah, well, there’s a family resemblance, you know?” I walk toward the kitchen and scoop Carmen up as she jerkily walks onto the carpet; I lift her and hold her face next to mine, grinning at Raina.
“She must take after her mother,” Raina says with a sly smile. She pours two glasses of tea.
I gasp, drawing it out, and clutch Carmen to my chest. “The nerve! Carmen, can you believe her?”
Carmen squeaks and claws at my chest. I laugh and bend to set her down, but I hesitate as Monroe the three-legged cat walks toward us.
“He won’t hurt her,” Raina assures me.
Nevertheless, I keep my hands protectively around Carmen’s belly as Monroe comes close. He sniffs at her. Carmen’s head wobbles as she squeaks at him.
After a few moments of sniffing and squeaking, Monroe lowers his head and begins to lick around Carmen’s ears.
“Aww!” Raina comes around the kitchen counter and squats down to watch. “Let her go, Alex.”
“What’s he doing?” I ask, frowning. “Is he trying to eat her?”
She glances at me. “No. He’s grooming her. Have you seriously never been around a cat?”
“I’ve always been a dog person.” I uncertainly withdraw my hands from Carmen, who wanders closer to Monroe and begins attacking his legs while he “grooms” her. He seems unbothered by her little claws sticking into his fur. “They don’t really do...this.”
Raina laughs softly and sits cross-legged next to me on the floor to watch. “Grooming is very important to cats. It’s how they keep themselves clean and bond with other cats. He likes her, look,” she adds as Carmen rolls over onto her back and Monroe licks her belly, paying no heed to her clawing and biting his face.
“She doesn’t like him, though!”
“She’s playing,” Raina says; she reaches toward me to grab my wrist, stopping me from snatching Carmen away from Monroe. “Trust me. I know cats.”
The minute she touches me, it feels like electricity jolts from her fingertips and up my arm. The last time we met flashes into my head. I remember the way her smooth skin feels beneath me, the expressions she made as she cycled through her pleasure.
Without thinking, I lower my hand to her thigh. She doesn’t move it, which I take as a good sign. She’s so small; my fingers brush against the underside of her thigh. She’s wearing jean shorts, and they’re rough against my hand; I extend a few of my fingers to let them rest on her skin. She shifts, still letting me touch her, and I smell the familiar scent of her shampoo. My heart starts beating much faster than normal.
“Alex,” she says.
My heart skips a beat. I turn to look at her. We’re sitting closer than I’d realized; or did one of us move over? My mind races. My eyes meet hers. My lips part. I lean toward her.
She doesn’t move. My lips touch hers. My whole body is on high alert; I feel tingly all over, from head to toe, as I slip a hand to the back of her neck, cradling her. God, her lips are so soft - I remember being delighted by the juxtaposition of her soft lips and hard teeth as she bit into my skin.
I deepen the kiss and she responds likewise, her body moving toward me, her hands coming up to touch my face. I feel her tongue questing for mine. As I allow my lips to part I reach down, sliding from her neck to her chest, looking for those soft, pert breasts that I loved kissing -
She puts her hands on my face and slowly pushes me away from her. Stunned, I watch as she shakily rises to her feet and backtracks into the kitchen.
“I think you’d better go,” she says softly, her voice wavering. “I - I can’t do this.”
I stand up. “Why? Is everything all right? Did I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I just want you so badly, I think, my head still fuzzy from the feeling of kissing her.
“I don’t trust that we won’t end up doing what we did last time…”
“Oh. We don’t have to do that. I just- I have a hard time resisting you...” I stop because I’m digging a great big hole for myself.
She watches me cautiously.
“I know things got weird, but I promise you that I’m not just after that.”
“Alex, we are very different.”
“Are we really that different? Aren’t all people different? I even like cats now.” I say gently.
“I don’t know… I just feel different like this might not be right.”
“Why do I put you off, Raina?”
“It’s not you. It’s me.”
I wish I understood her confusing woman-speak, but I don’t, so I just sigh.
She folds her arms around herself. “Thank you for bringing Carmen to me. I’ll take good care of her.”
I nod, shoving my hands into my pockets awkwardly before turning toward her couch. My duffel bag is half-unzipped. “Uh, all her stuff’s in there,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward it. “I’ll just...leave it here. You can do whatever you want with the bag.”
My stomach ties itself in knots as I head for the door. I hesitate and turn back. Carmen is still attacking Monroe as he grooms her; she’s obviously in good hands - and paws. I look up from her to Raina, who still stands in the kitchen with her arms folded, her body angled toward the floor. A tendril of curly hair has slipped from her ponytail to lay across her face. I long to go and tuck it behind her ear.
“Can I...ask why, though?” I say quietly, surprising myself. I shove my hands deeper into my pockets; my keys jam painfully into my knuckles. “Why don’t you want to...be with me?”
Raina’s eyes shift. I don’t expect her to give me a straight answer, I don’t think. I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t give me one at all.
“You’re very...of this era,” she says.
“...okay,” I say after a long pause. I have no clue what she means.
“You’re not the kind of men I write about.”
She doesn’t seem as though she wants to elaborate; she’s stopped looking at me altogether, and instead seems to be fixated on the sticky notes peppering her refrigerator.
“Well, all right then. I’ll be going.” She doesn’t reply as I actually walk to the door. She doesn’t say good-bye as I leave. I chance one more look over my shoulder before I shut the door, feeling a pang as I see Carmen playing happily with Monroe, and Raina staring into the middl
e distance, eyes unfocused.
I close the door. I have no idea what to do.
I try going home, but the house feels so empty now. I’m restless. I can’t play video games or watch TV. I even sit down to try to read a book, but the words keep slipping around on the page, and my eyes keep crossing. I don’t take in anything that I’m reading.
Finally, I stand up and head back out to my truck. I can’t deal with this. I need to talk to someone.
I’m not even sure where I’m going when I back out of my driveway and head down the road, but I’m only halfway surprised when I find myself in the suburb where Bridges lives. Near-identical houses neatly line the roads, which all have blandly pleasant names. I squint as I look for Bridges’ house. It’s mid-afternoon on the weekend; I’m sure he’s home with his wife and kids.
I pull into Bridges’ driveway. It’s a typical suburban two-story house, with blue vinyl siding, a white front porch, and an attached two-car garage. Steph, his wife, has some very pretty flower beds out front that she’s worked on for years, but I can see a few trampled flowers where at least one of their kids has been playing in them.
I slide out of my truck and approach the house. There’s a kid’s rocking chair on the front porch that wasn’t there last time I was here. The storm door is closed, but the door behind it is open, allowing me to see into the front room. I ring the doorbell.
Bridges happens to be passing by with his toddler in his arms; he stops and grins at me, beckoning me inside.
“Alex!” he says when I come in, stomping my feet on the mat. “Why’d you drag yourself all the way out here?”
“Just came for a visit,” I say with a shrug.
His face takes on that knowing look I hate. “I see.” He sets his toddler down on the ground and ruffles his hair. “Hey, Luke. Go find Mommy, huh? Tell her we’ve got company?”
“OKAY!” Luke shouts directly into Bridges’ face. He turns and runs off on his fat little legs.
“Loud little guy,” I comment as Bridges straightens with a wince.
“Gets his point across.”
I kick my shoes off before coming further into the house. “Do you have some time to hang out?”
“Yeah, as long as you don’t mind Luke and Madelyn.”
“How’s your kitten?” I ask as he leads me through the front room and toward the kitchen.
“Growing like a weed,” he replies. “Madelyn’s really taken charge of him.”
I grin. I’ve known Madelyn since Bridges transferred to our station when she was five, before Luke was born - she’s ten now.
“She argued with Luke about what to name him at first. He was very insistent that the cat’s name was Mommy.” Bridges opens the fridge and grabs two cans of soda.
“What’d they end up settling on?” I ask, grabbing one of the cans.
“Cheese.”
“What?” I ask. “Why?”
Bridges cracks open his can and takes a sip. “Because he’s orange, I guess.”
Like Monroe, I think, leaning against the counter. I watch as Bridges grabs some food from the cabinets and fridge. He tosses me a bag of chips and heats up some dip in the microwave.
“I smell something,” Steph says, entering the kitchen with Luke trailing behind.
“I’m heating up the sausage dip,” Bridges tells her.
“No, that’s not it.” She stops in front of me and wrinkles her nose. “I smelled an Alex.”
I laugh and give her a hug. “Good to see you, Steph.”
“ALEX STINKY!” Luke yells.
“Yeah, I am,” I tell him.
Steph moves past Bridges to the fridge. “Y’all headed to the man cave?”
“Please don’t call it that,” Bridges sighs. He pulls the dip out of the microwave and jerks his head at me. “But...yeah.”
“Don’t forget you promised to drive Maddie to Sarah’s house today,” Steph says as Bridges and I leave the kitchen.
I walk to the man cave without him, letting him pause to clarify things like when Maddie is going to Sarah’s, why Maddie is going to Sarah’s, if Sarah’s parents will be home, and if Sarah’s teenage brother is going to be home, which seems like the most important question.
The “man cave”, as Steph calls it, is really just a game room. There’s a TV, some video game systems, and an old, beat-up couch from before they were married. Some lawn-size garbage bags full of toys and kids’ clothes clutter up the corner, waiting to be taken to the nearest thrift store for donations. I plop down on the old couch and throw my feet up on the coffee table while I open my chips.
I’ve shoved more than a few in my mouth when Bridges finally enters. He sets the rest of the snacks down on the table and sits on the couch next to me.
“So when is Madelyn headed to Sarah’s?” I ask.
“Around five. We’ve got time to hang.”
“Is Sarah’s older brother gonna be there?”
Bridges grunts and reaches for the nearest game controller. “Yeah, but Steph doesn’t think it’ll be a problem. Maddie has the biggest crush on him, though.” He shakes his head. “I doubt you’re here to talk about Maddie’s boy troubles, though.”
“Guilty,” I sigh. I fold my arms and turn to stare at the nearest wall. “You know that girl? Raina Groves?”
“The lemonade girl.” Bridges nods thoughtfully. “The one you had sex with while on duty, like an idiot.”
I wince. “Yeah...her.”
“You’re not still thinking about her, are you?”
I shift awkwardly. “Actually, I just got back from her house.”
Bridges heaves the biggest, most dramatic sigh I’ve ever heard. He leans over to put his bag of chips down on the table, then turns fully toward me - or, at least, as far as he can on the couch. “You wanna tell me what you were doing there?”
“Giving her Carmen.”
“Your cat?”
“Her cat, now.” I crinkle the chip bag idly in my hands. “I can’t take care of a kitten, man. Can’t bring her to the station, can’t leave her home alone for two whole weeks.”
“And you hate them.”
I shrug and look away.
“Oh my God. Alex Whitmore, hater of cats, no longer hates cats?” He leans back on the couch with a grin. “I can’t believe it.”
“Well, Carmen is cute,” I say defensively. “That’s not the point - I took Carmen to Raina.”
“Raina, is it?”
“Yes. Raina. And...we kissed.”
Bridges lets out a loud wolf whistle; I hear Steph echo it back from downstairs. “Anything else happen?”
“No. She kinda kicked me out.”
“Didn’t wanna do it if you weren’t on duty?” Bridges snickers, reaching for his chips.
“Can you be serious for two seconds?” I snap.
Bridges freezes, his hand hovering over the table. He looks at me with raised eyebrows. I immediately feel bad; he’s just trying to keep the mood light, after all.
I sigh and rub my hands over my face. “I’m sorry.”
“Got it bad, huh?” Bridges grabs his food and sits back on the couch.
I scowl, but I walk him through what happened, from showing up on her doorstep to the kiss.
“And then,” I say, a little indignant, “she said that I’m very ‘of this era’.”
Bridges blinks at me. “...okay.”
“That’s exactly what I said! She said I’m not like the men she writes about. I mean, what is that?”
“Have you ever read one of those books?” He grins and throws a chip at me.
I jerk to the side to catch the chip in my mouth; I crunch down on it and reply, “man she’s a romance novelist, period romance or something? I don’t read that stuff. And how am I supposed to be that kind of guy?”
Bridges shakes his head. “Look, man. She sounds like trouble. I know you like her or whatever, but...she’s said no. If you really like this girl - and I don’t know why, she sounds nuts - you have to wait fo
r her to make the next move.”
“But - ” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“Desperation ain’t a good look, bro.” He gives me that same knowing look.
Inside, I feel myself bristling like a cat seeing a dog, but I also know he’s right. I turn away from him and stare at the wall. Most of the house is painted a cool, calming grey, and I pretend like it’s the most fascinating wall I’ve ever seen just to avoid looking back at Bridges. It’s strange feeling so trapped. There’s no action I can take that can further this relationship.
No matter how much I want to get to know Raina Groves.
Chapter 12
I pull the bottle out of Carmen’s mouth; she squeaks at me with righteous kitty-indignation, and I can’t help but smile as I set her inside Monroe’s old carrier.
“We need to take you for your shots,” I tell her soothingly, closing the door.
Monroe paces around the living room, tail held high. He doesn’t like being separated from Carmen for too long. I usher him into his own crate, and he meows loudly at me until I bribe him with a snacky.
Carmen is growing exactly as a kitten her age should. She’s adorable, of course, and playful - and hungry - and, if Alex is to be believed, has never been to the vet. Today, then, will be her first visit.
Once both my cats are in their carriers, it’s quick and easy to get going to Trisha’s; but it’s also easy to become lost in my own thoughts again as I make the hour-long drive. I keep allowing myself to fall into a pattern of thinking of Alex the Rude Fireman. He’s not so rude anymore, sure. And he’s attractive - that’s true. And the sex was good.
Despite being alone, I feel my face color. The sex was very good. But that’s all it has to be - one night, and a kitten. I almost fell into bed with him again when he brought Carmen; I still remember the scent of his cologne and the feeling of his full lips on mine. But he’s absolutely a modern man - no chivalry, no class, full of bluster and sarcasm; no matter how lovely his gaze, how sweet his taste, how gentle his smile as he set the bundle of blankets and fur in my arms; he will always be modern, of Now, of This Era, tainted by the mechanisms of Today; he will not sweep me off my feet unless it is to carry me to bed, for that is all he cares for - to bed a woman, to a Modern Man, is the most -
