by J. B. Havens
“Your man, huh?” Drew says, hiding his smile behind his hand.
“Sure.” I shrug, my anger calming to a low simmer. “And you, what the hell were you thinking? You’re so much better than that . . . that . . . thing. She’s a waste of space and probably hasn’t ever had an original thought in her empty, friggin’ head,” I snap at him. I try to ignore the way he zeroed in on the phrase my man. It just slipped out. For some reason, I keep doing that with him. Saying what I feel before I have a chance to think first. He’s chipping away at my defenses. Pieces are falling all around me and I don’t take notice until they are already gone.
Leaning his elbows on the wooden table, Drew comes closer. “I’ve never fucked you against a wall, though I’d like to.” He grins, and I can see the dark promise in his eyes. “Such a potty mouth.” He taps the end of my nose, but his smile tells me my filthy mouth is growing on him.
“Yeah, well, it sounded good and it got her the hell out of here, didn’t it? She had no right to say what she did. I was going to let you handle it, but she made that crack about your leg and I kinda lost it.” I lean in further, giving him a quick kiss just as someone walks up to the table, a tall man with a paunch and a name tag that reads Rich, General Manager. “Uh-oh, looks like I’m in trouble, baby. Think they’re gonna take me to the pokey?” I laugh, unable to stop myself. My good humor is bottomless at the moment.
“Ma’am, Drew, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Rich announces, looking somewhat embarrassed. I’m sure he’d just gotten an earful from the pissed off toy woman. “Sorry, Drew,” he relates in a lower, more private tone.
“Sure. It’s fine.” Drew paid the check while I was in the bathroom, so we’re are ready to leave anyway.
Standing, I look at the manager and say, “Look, I know what I said was rude, but you should be happy I didn’t slap the shit out of her after the way she spoke to Drew. She didn’t get anything she didn’t earn. I get why you have to throw us out, though, you’ve got a business to run, and I bet dollars to donuts, little miss thang has a daddy with deep pockets. The meal was great, and I hope we can come back some time.”
Rich blinks a few times, looking very much like a confused owl. “We’d be happy to have you, just maybe give it a week or two?” Rich rubs the back of his head nervously. “By then, she’ll be pissed off at someone else and have forgotten all about you.”
“Oh, Rich, I seriously doubt she’s going to forget me anytime soon, but next time, I’ll take her out to the parking lot.”
He laughs, choking on it as he attempts to look severe and disapproving. I pat his shoulder in sympathy and follow Drew out of the restaurant. We step out into the parking lot and are not surprised to see a pissed off Barbie sitting in the front seat of a white Mercedes coupe, bawling and screaming into her cell phone. I wave like an asshole and smile. She screeches again, and I’m surprised her windows don’t shatter.
“Holy shit, woman, would you stop?” Drew scolds, dragging me to his truck by the hand.
“This is fun for me. Screwing with people like her makes my day.” I blow her a kiss. I just can’t help myself.
“Maybe, but I’m gettin’ you out of here. Right now.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop picking on the crazy person.”
He rolls his eyes and sighs, but the laughter dancing in his eyes betrays him.
Tucked up into his truck, my smile refuses to fade. “Seriously, this is the best day ever. But just to be sure, there aren’t any more ex-lovers lurking around, are there?”
He shakes his head no, flicking his eyes back and forth between the road and me every couple of seconds as he drives us back to the motel. “No. She was . . . I don’t know what the hell she was. I never even slept with her and she’s too young. We went out a few times. Honestly, her voice made me want to shove an ice pick in my ears.”
I laugh so hard, I snort, which makes me laugh more. And snort more. I can’t stop and my sides begin to ache. Soon Drew is laughing with me until tears are pouring down both our faces. When was the last time I laughed until I cried? I can’t remember, but, God, it feels good.
Chapter 22
Meg
We arrive back at the motel, heading straight for Drew’s apartment after putting the kayaks away. We flop on the couch, sprawling out and kicking off our shoes. Drew flicks through the channels, finally settling on a movie. He slides his arm over my shoulders and pulls me in closer to his side.
“I owe you one,” I say softly. I’m so comfortable, I can’t stop a sigh of bliss from escaping. I tuck my bare feet up under my butt and snuggle in closer to Drew. The couch is amazing on its own, but with the addition of Drew, I couldn’t be more relaxed if I was in a Swiss spa.
“For what?” he mumbles, half-asleep already.
“For the truck. I owe you an orgasm.” I yawn deeply.
His chest shakes under my head as he chuckles. “You don’t owe me anything, darlin’.” He kisses the top of my head and seems to relax even further, settling deeper into the soft cushions of the couch.
“We’ll see about that. After a nap. I’m exhausted. Kayaking and fighting crazy ex-girlfriends really wipes me out, not to mention the action in the truck.”
“You must have really liked it then, since you keep bringin’ it up. Pushin’ for a repeat performance?” He pokes my ribs lightly.
It’s my turn to laugh. “Your turn first, but after that, knock yourself out. You got all bossy and didn’t give me much say in it, anyway.”
“You like it when I’m bossy.” His voice is deep, hanging right on the edge of sleep.
My heart skips a beat and my skin heats in memory. Oh, yes, I liked it when he was bossy. “Maybe a little.” I trace circles on his chest with my finger, tempted to go lower, but my eyes are so heavy.
Chapter 23
Drew
Drew looked down, smiling at Meg asleep on his chest. He didn’t remember the last time he’d been this relaxed in the presence of another person. Even after they’d made love or had sex—he wasn’t sure what to call it. Whatever it was, it had been amazing. He softly touched her hair where some had escaped her ponytail. Wanting his hands in it, he pulled the tie out and tossed it onto the coffee table before running his fingers through the locks. Her hair was so dark and shiny and the smell of her shampoo reached his nose and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face against her neck. He wanted to lie on his back with Meg on top of him, her glorious hair falling around them both. He decided then and there he was going to make sure exactly that happened before the night was done. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, keeping her close.
Chapter 24
Meg
I wake up, slowly blinking the sleep from my eyes. I stretch lightly, trying not to wake Drew. His soft snore is the only sound in the room, his breath ruffles my hair. Reaching up, I find it loose and see my hair tie on the table. He took my hair down? His hand is cradling the back of my head, my hair wrapped around his fingers. Guilt eats at me as Brandon pops into my mind. We used to sit like this. Falling asleep on the couch watching a movie, a bowl of popcorn half eaten on the coffee table. Am I doing the right thing? Am I ready for this? My mind whirls with questions, but no answers. A lot is happening really fast with Drew. Things didn’t progress this quickly when I met Brandon at Cleveland College. He was a finance major and I was studying interior design. We couldn’t have been more different. He wore a tie to class, for crying out loud!
He’d seen me walking across the quad and told me later he knew right then he was going to marry me. It took him two semesters to get up the nerve to ask me out. I almost said no, but he was cute, so I figured what the hell. I knew on the first date he was something special. Quietly funny and generous, and when he smiled, my heart stopped. He’d reached across the table and nervously took my hand and I fell right then.
Drew is so different. He’s wickedly handsome, loud, and commanding. Brandon had never laid me down in the seat of his car and e
aten me out in broad daylight for God and everyone to see. No, Brandon had been tender, cautious, and kind. We made love, never fucked. I trail my fingertips up and down Drew’s muscular arm. There’s another difference. Brandon used to run on a treadmill at the gym for his heart health, while Drew works maintenance and coaches football. Drew is ripped; every inch of his body tight and fit. Before Brandon got sick, he’d started gaining some weight, and his hair was thinning. He looked exactly how you’d expect an investment banker to look.
I’m a different person now. I used to be polite to a fault. For all my grousing to Drew, I was brought up with good manners. I almost never swore. I wore two-piece skirt suits and high heels to all my design appointments. There are two versions of me, the before Brandon died Meg, and the after. In many ways, I like this new me more. I don’t take crap. I wear what I like and what I’m comfortable in. I swear. I drink. I play my music too loud in the car and sing along. I wonder what Brandon would think if he could see me now. Would he be happy for me or would he not even recognize me? Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. That’s what this trip was ultimately about. To figure out who this new Meg is and whether I like her or not. Drew had not been part of the plan. I was going to travel the country, see the things that Brandon and I didn’t get to see, and hope that somewhere along the way, I’d figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do with myself now. As I hear Drew’s steady heartbeat under my ear, I feel my carefully cultured control slipping through my fingers.
Drew stirs, rolling to the side so his head is on the arm of the couch. I take the opportunity to get up. Starting to feel hungry, but not wanting to go out to eat, I snoop in Drew’s kitchen and come up with a plan. I’d need to make a fast trip to the store so I can do something nice for him. He’s so good to me, even when I act like a total bitch in return. I think about my Jeep and how long I might be here. Shaking my head at the thought of tomorrow, I decide to enjoy tonight. One day, one night at a time. That’s what I told Drew. I couldn’t give him more than that, not now, maybe not ever.
Careful not to wake him, I slip on my shoes and snag his keys. I remember seeing a grocery store down the road. I zip through as fast as possible, ignoring the stares from employees and customers alike. What the fuck people? I’m from Ohio, not Mars! Grabbing my bags of food, I hustle out of there. I don’t want Drew waking up and finding both me and his truck gone.
Easing open the door to his apartment, I see he’s still asleep. Thank God. I suck at planning surprises and I’m already flustered. Him waking up would ruin everything. Unloading the groceries onto the table, I rummage around and find most of the tools I need. I set to work, trying to keep the noise to a minimum, but, by the sounds coming from Drew, he’s deeply asleep. His snore that was cute earlier is now loud and rumbling. I’m happy to find a cast iron skillet in a cabinet, although I’m not surprised. This is Mississippi, after all.
Generously seasoning and rubbing both sides of the steaks with olive oil, I set them aside and get to work on the sweet potatoes. Slicing and chopping, I lose myself in what I’m doing, the movements around the kitchen, the timing, and the focus.
“Babe?” Drew mumbles, sleep heavy in his voice.
“Shit. You weren’t supposed to wake up yet.” I wipe my hands on a towel, flipping it up onto my shoulder, before picking the chef’s knife up and chopping the last potato into fries. “I’m making you dinner. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
“You’re cooking for me?” He sounds so shocked I turn and look at him. His hair is sticking up on one side of his head and there’s a long sleep mark on his cheek. I’d laugh if he didn’t look so serious.
“Well, yeah. I didn’t really feel like going out. I was thinking we could just hang out and watch movies.” I fiddle with the hand towel, all at once really nervous.
“You’re . . .” He starts and stops. “Thank you. I’ll, um, go shower and find us some movies.” A few moments later, I hear the shower start. He’s acting like no one has ever made him dinner before, and I realize with a start that maybe no one ever has.
If that’s the case, I’m going to make sure this is the best damn dinner he’s ever had. Apart from Nana, because there is no freaking way I’m going down that road!
Chapter 25
Drew
He was lost in thought as he showered. Meg was making him dinner, and not a simple meal, by the look of things. He could smell garlic, rosemary, and something sweet. The only person who had ever cooked for him before, other than his parents’ housekeeper, was Nana. It made him nervous. Why was she cooking for him? Was she going to say goodbye? Or was she going to stay? He didn’t know, but both scared him for different reasons. He was already dreading tomorrow since he knew he wouldn’t see her until late, if at all. A rock seemed to settle into his gut. Was he ready for this kind of relationship? He didn’t know. Remembering what she’d said: one day, one night at a time, he decided he’d worry about tomorrow when it came. For now, tonight, he’d enjoy her company and the happiness she brought him. After drying off and dressing quickly, he went back out to the smell of hot oil and cooking meat. The savory, yet sweet, aroma hit him in the face, making his stomach growl.
“Whatever you’re makin’ over there smells amazin’,” he related, before sitting on the couch and bringing up the movie channel on the TV. “We got 28 Days Later, The Break-up, Alien and Aliens, and Sweet Home Alabama.” As he listed off available titles, he cringed, hoping she wasn’t going to pick one of the chick movies.
“I think 28 Days Later then, after that, maybe the Alien movies?” she answered, not looking up from whatever she was stirring.
“You’re serious? You want to watch a zombie movie and science fiction?” He turned around and looked at her, sure she was choosing those because she thought that’s what he wanted.
“First, 28 Days Later isn’t a zombie movie, and second, I hate rom-coms. Give me guns, violence, and blood. Add in a Hudson and Hicks, and I’m a happy camper.”
“You’re seriously the coolest woman I’ve ever met.”
She snorted, pouring whatever she’d been cooking into a gravy boat. He didn’t own a gravy boat, come to think of it. “You’ve been with the wrong people, then.”
“Apparently so. And you’re wrong, by the way, 28 Days Later is a zombie movie.”
“No. Drew. It’s not. There are no zombies in it. There are people infected with the rage virus who attack and kill everyone in their path. They starve to death, therefore, they are not undead, and not zombies.” She said it so matter-of-factly he knew she’d had this same argument before.
“I think I’m in love,” he joked, regretting the words as soon as he said them. Her posture stiffened and her hands shook a little as she served up their food onto plates. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. Neither of us is ready for that kind of talk. It was just a joke.” He stood, walking closer, but afraid to touch her.
“It’s okay, seriously. I know you were joking, it just threw me for a minute.” She pushed a loose strand of hair back and laid the towel on the counter. “Anyway, sit down, dinner is ready.”
Following orders, he sat and gaped at the plate she put in front of him. “Darlin’, you really outdid yourself. You didn’t have to do all this work for me.” He took her hand, kissing her palm. “Thank you.”
“You’re most welcome. I enjoy cooking, but I haven’t really had a chance to do it in a while. It felt good.” She took her hand from his and sat across from him. “So, we have porterhouse steaks cooked medium rare, which of course is the only way to cook a steak. Along with sweet potato fries with a maple syrup reduction. Real maple syrup too, no corn syrup crap. On the side you have a fresh salad and bread.” Propping her chin on her fisted hands, she smiled at him and he fell a little more.
“I can’t wait.” Picking up his fork and knife, he dug in, moaning at the juicy meat practically melting in his mouth. His woman knew how to cook a steak. The thought gave him pause. His woma
n, he liked the sound of it but pushed it aside. “This is the best steak I’ve ever had, but for God’s sake, don’t tell Nana I said that.”
She laughed, digging into her own meal. “Thanks, Drew. Oh, if you even think about putting that steak sauce in your fridge on this, I might just hurt you. Just sayin’.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Good man.” She smiled at him, picking up her bread to soak up the juice from her steak. “Tell me more about your football team.”
Always willing to talk about his boys, Drew dove right in. “I’m just one of the assistant coaches. I don’t work for the school or anything, I’m a volunteer. I remember how my coaches were always there for me when I played. Pushin’ me to be better, not just at football, but as a man. They tried to help me after the accident, but I wasn’t open to help at the time. Now I’m in a much better place and I want to give back. Plus, I miss football so much, this is a good way to stay close to it. A lot of these boys come from single-mother households and need a positive male influence. Times have changed in this small town and football is a way to keep these kids out of trouble. I love seein’ them succeed and push themselves to be better players. When they struggle and overcome, it’s the greatest feeling. We’re not just teachin’ them the game, we’re teachin’ them so much more.”
“That’s awesome. They’re lucky to have you.” She smiled, urging him to continue.
“Sometimes I help them with their college applications, stuff like that. They come to me with problems that are going on off the field too. I had to counsel a couple of guys about girlfriends and I’ve given them condoms.” He grinned at her surprised face. “Well, they either didn’t have an adult male to turn to or they felt like they couldn’t talk to their dads about it, but kids are going to have sex. They just are. I’d rather them come to me and ask for help than deal with a teen pregnancy that will affect the rest of their lives.”
