Friends with Benefits

by Olivia Gaines

  It was a straight two hour cruise up I-75 into Dandridge, Tennessee. He opted to take the company Escalade versus his car. When he was with his family, it never failed that the younger adults would want to get out for an evening. It was always a pain in the neck to take two vehicles with the other one trailing, trying to make the traffic lights or keep up. With the Escalade, everyone could fit into one vehicle. He had leased a vehicle of this size ever since his second year in business. Initially, he thought the flashy Mercedes was a sign of success to his clients, but when an oversized rapper would not fully fit in the sleek European automobile, he quickly opted for practical instead of prissy. The Mercedes was replaced with a paid-for Buick Lacrosse, which he only drove on weekends. During the week, he opted instead to ride his motorcycle or bicycle. He was so pleased with his Buick, that when Charlize wanted to get a new car, he took her to test drive the Enclave. Since he already had a Buick, the dealer gave her a sweet deal, and she loved her car.

  He smiled all the way through the bumper to bumper traffic until he hit Marietta, and was able to steer clear for the remainder of the drive. A quick text was sent, saying he was en route. In an hour and a half, he would see her. Although he was fully aware of her rules, he still could not help himself; he picked her up something special. Maybe it was a dangerous precedent, but he wanted her to have this, so he bought it. He would deal with the fall out and consequences later, he only hoped she was as eager to see him, as he was her.

  CHARLIZE WAS CLIMBING the walls. She had set the rules to protect them both, but she had not expected the intimacy between them to be so intense and thoroughly satisfying. She crossed her legs at the thoughts and feelings that rushed through her when she thought about his hands, his mouth, his..... “I’m sorry what were you saying, Mom?” All week she had been zoning in and out, trying to figure out the right place to have date night. It had been years since she had been this randy and she planned to burn off a great deal of this energy on that man.

  Her sisters Melanie and Melea, who were Irish twins, had been watching her behavior all week. Her brother, Frazier—or Junior as the family called him—had also noticed her being antsy. Normally, her patience with her nieces and nephews had no limits, but right now, she needed some alone time with that man and these little monsters were getting on her last nerves. On several occasions she wanted to tell Melea to take a belt to that oldest one, and the youngest one was way too old to be on a bottle. Melanie’s were worse. Why a two-year-old was still sucking on a binky was beyond her and she was tempted to get the name of the pediatrician and have them sued for incompetence. Melanie’s six-year-old was an annoying ball of nonsense that even their mother avoided. When your mother doesn’t want to be bothered with her own grandchildren, you know it is time to make some changes in your child-rearing tactics.

  Frazier Jr.’s kids were well behaved. He was the oldest of the pack, and Charlize was second, followed by Melanie, and then Malea. She was the only childless one and her parents were okay with that, considering how rotten the other grandchildren had turned out. Frazier the third was a bit of a science nerd and spoke Charlize’s vernacular, so she was able to bond with him. He never objected to the family always referring to him as Frazier III. Her brother’s two daughters were a bit of a mystery—a set of twins who spoke their own language, kind of redolent of Children of the Corn, which completely creeped her the frack out. She avoided them as well.

  Finally, her phone chimed at the same time she heard the engine to his truck. She bounded out of her seat and took off running out the front door. Grayson stepped out of the truck, clad in a soft blue button down and a pair of dark jeans. His face lit up when he saw her jump off the front porch and trot over to him. To his surprise she threw herself into his arms and he went with it. He scooped her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he kissed her with everything in him. The kiss was so thorough and so deep, he felt her swoon in his arms. “I missed the hell out of you too, Charlie.”

  And that was how Grayson Broche subtly notified Charlize’s family, that this was something more than just convenience.

  Chapter Nine

  THE ENTIRE FAMILY HAD gathered on the porch to watch the heartwarming reunion, but her father still had reservations. The two seemed to have forgotten they had an audience, and still seemed to care very little as Frazier Sr. cleared his throat. There were things that needed to be said before they entered that house, and Grayson had had two hours to put together the right words to tell this woman, but they just didn’t come out right.

  “I want my date, Charlie,” he whispered in her ear as he nibbled at her neck. “I need my time with you. I have been going nuts this past week just waiting to be near you again.”

  “I know, I know, I feel the same way, I want my date with you too, but first things first, okay?”

  Grayson nodded his agreement but he was unable to move. “Charlie, I am in a predicament here. If you move, your sisters will know a great deal more about me.” Charlize was able to feel how happy he had been to see her, and moved back a few steps.

  Charlize knew a few techniques to lower his excitement. “Repeat after me, Grayson,” and started to name random items— hot dog, pickles, ice cream, pine cone, tree, sock, fish, throttle. By the time she reached horseshoe, she stopped and pointed, “See, all better.”

  She looped her arm into his and they made their way towards the porch. He greeted her father first, then her mother, the uncles, the aunts, the other siblings, spouses and then the kids. The children had a million questions for him, but most importantly, they wanted to know what to call Grayson. “Call me, Tío.” Her father’s eyebrows went up, what was he trying to say? Charlize brushed it off, and went with what her pants were saying instead of listening to his words. By the end of lunch, everyone hated that word, with the exception of Grayson, who patiently answered every insipid, asinine question, including deciphering the language of the twins.

  By two pm, Charlize was climbing the walls and Grayson had taken to the front porch listening to fishing stories with the men. She came out of the front door with a backpack and two bottles of water. “Grayson, would you like to take a walk with me?”

  It was hot, humid, and sticky. He was not interested in getting chiggers or ticks, “Maybe later when it cools off, Charlie. Will that be okay?”

  Charlize’s facial expression changed, “Grayson, sweetie, would you like to go for a quick walk with me?” Her brother nudged him, urging him to look at her facial expression.

  “Sure thing. Let me go and slip on my sneaks.” He returned a few minutes later, and waved goodbye to the men.

  Grayson wanted to know what was in the backpack. She smiled a wicked smile at him, “A blanket.” Suddenly a walk in the middle of the afternoon sounded absolutely perfect.

  They returned an hour later, soaked in sweat and looking unequivocally sated. Grayson had a few pine needles in his hair, and with traces of lip gloss on his collar. He grabbed a beer from the cooler and plopped down in one of the patio chairs with his elbows rested on the back, tuning back in to the conversation the men were having about the fishing excursion in the morning. He was trying to play it cool so no one would be the wiser, but it was Charlize’s appearance that further gave them away.

  Dr. Filleman saw it first, then nudged Frazier who poked Grayson, who looked at the father, who was staring at his daughter, which drew his eyes to Charlize’s backside. Her skirt was stuck in her panties and one perfect butt cheek was hanging out. Grayson, smoothly rose, as if nothing was untoward, and walked over to her as she chatted on the other end of the porch with the ladies. He slipped his arm around her waist, kissed her on the cheek while silently pulling down the skirt. She was smiling at him as she asked, “What was that for?”

  “For inviting me up here. It is beautiful, and I needed the break. Thank you.” He laid a light kiss on her lips and headed back to sit with the men.

  Dr. Filleman was pleased at how he had handled the situation, which said mo
re about him as a man, than anything else he could do. His baby was not aware she had been compromised and instead of embarrassing her, he did what a gentleman who cared for his woman would do—he fixed the issue, without ruffling her feathers. Grayson was earning his trust. Keeping it was going to be a different issue.

  THE LAKE HOUSE WAS not the image that Grayson had envisioned. In his mind, he imagined a rustic log cabin, nestled in the tree line with a corner view of some water. In reality, the lake house was something Grayson would have to work very hard to own its equivalent. It was peaceful, it was serene and a retreat from the world. Technically, it was two stories with a wraparound porch and widow’s watch on the second floor. The third floor held the master suite alone. Grayson was truly impressed with the very modern kitchen and the elevator which went to the third floor. Charlize often joked that her father took future planning to a whole new level, but this, this was something spectacular.

  The lake house had seven bedrooms and was located on Douglas Lake. He could not help but be impressed when Charlize gave him the tour. The first floor had a large family area with a pool table, card table, and two large bedrooms which were used by her father’s two brothers. Just outside of the kitchen was a large balcony with a handmade oak table that seated twelve. It really did not matter where you sat at the table; every seat boasted an amazing view of the lake. The second floor held four bedrooms, each with their private bathrooms, which is where the children stayed. Grayson’s eyebrows went up when she showed him her suite and said, “While you are here, you will share my room.”

  Her bedroom not only had a stone fireplace, but also a walk-out balcony. “We also come back here for Thanksgiving, and the men folk do some hunting.” She said men folk with some facetiousness, and she showed him up to the third floor to her parent’s suite. He wasn’t sure what kind of fees Dr. Filleman charged, but psychiatry must pay really well. The kid in him wanted to run over and jump up and down on the four poster bed, but the grown man in him wanted to crank up the Jacuzzi; Charlize mentioned there was another Jacuzzi downstairs as well for family use. This was living.

  Downstairs, the men had gathered again on the porch and were discussing the plans for fishing in the morning. Grayson detested fishing as much as he hated hunting. However, if he was going to be accepted into the pack, he had to learn to howl at the moon as well. Charlize’s family was so different from his own freewheeling and irreverent crew. The comparisons between the gatherings of the two families were remarkable, but Grayson was enjoying the quiet serenity of this moment, until he opened his eyes to find Dr. Filleman staring at him. It was a private invitation for a conversation. Grayson rose and slowly walked from the porch. He did not turn, but heard the soft footsteps of Charlize’s father behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  GRAYSON WALKED A LITTLE ways from the house and down the path towards the lake. He slowed his gait to allow the good doctor a chance to walk side by side as they entered the clearing. Grayson opened the conversation, “This is an amazing house, and an amazing vision you had for how you wanted to spend your down time with your family.”

  Dr. Filleman’s hands were in his pockets and his spectacles hung loosely about his neck on a cord, “Thank you. Family is everything to me, Grayson.”

  “I am honored to be included in this trip. I am truly enjoying myself and looking forward to fishing with you all in the morning.”

  There was a quietness between them and both understood there were things to be said, but neither quite knew how to walk into the subject. Directness has always been the business skill which had made him successful. Grayson saw no reason to change tactics now; he could psychoanalyze him later. “Sir, if it is easier for you and Mrs. Filleman, I am comfortable sleeping on one of the couches tonight.”

  Few opportunities presented itself in the field of psychiatry when a direct conversation could be had without damaging the psyche of the recipient. Dr. Filleman was less concerned about his profession as much as he was his oldest daughter. He took a direct approach as well, and replied, “You weren’t too concerned earlier today about our comfort when you took my baby for a walk in the woods.” He emphasized the walk portion with a twist of his lip. The whole scenario he had witnessed—from his daughter coming out the door with the backpack and blanket to his own son having to nudge Grayson to understand what she meant by walk—added to his discomfort. What the doctor wanted to know was whether this man was going to stand up to him or back down and blame it all on his little girl.

  Grayson had been taught by his father to never say or do anything that you were not willing to own up to in the light, or in the dark. “My apologies Sir, if our actions caused you discomfort, but I had not seen my Baby in ten days. My Baby, missed me as much as I missed her and sometimes, in the middle of the day, you have to take a walk.” He stood in front of him, hands at his side, staring him square in the face, forcing him to understand that Baby was all grown up, and it was time for daddy to hand her over. Grayson felt as if he had been punched in the gut when that last thought crossed his mind. Instead of allowing the thoughts to run unchecked, he extended his hand to Dr. Filleman for a shake, and the doctor reluctantly accepted.

  The conversation was quickly changed and Grayson inquired about the types of fish that inhabited Douglas Lake. “This lake has some of the best bass fishing in the country,” Dr. Filleman told Grayson with pride. On the walk back to the lake house, he told him the story of how his grandfather and father had fished this lake when they were growing up. A tradition his father continued when he and his two brothers were born, which is why he built the lake house.

  Dr. Filleman’s brothers, Charles and Eddie, each had one child; Charles a son and Eddie a daughter. Neither came home until Thanksgiving. They were younger than Frazier Sr., and were not yet grandparents. Both seemed to be okay with it, but interestingly enough, also avoided one on one with their great nieces and nephews. Eddie spent much of the week behind the grill as the designated grill master. Charles, for some odd reason, spent a great deal of time collecting kindling for the fireplaces for the trip back on Thanksgiving. The children were oblivious to it all and Grayson was amused. His family were not as repressed and had no qualms about saying what was on their minds. They were as educated and learned as Charlize’s family, but not so uptight.

  After dinner, the men headed back to the porch for cognacs and cigars, but Grayson did not like the smell and did not wish to partake. He headed in for a game of pool with Frazier III. The kids had all gathered around the pool table, including the little one that reminded him of Maggie Simpson. He removed the binky from her mouth and placed a shaved carrot in her hand. Twenty minutes later, the binky had been forgotten and Grayson gave the little one a high five and picked the baby up and started a victory dance.

  Charlize had entered the room from the other side and was hidden from view. Melea did not know she was standing within earshot.

  “We will see how long she can go without putting that awful thing back in her mouth. I keep telling Melanie that it is a sign of insecurity.”

  Grayson stopped dancing and only gave her a wry smile. His senses were on high alert as Charlize’s sister moved in closer, to whisper something to him, “You seem to really enjoy children.” A mumble with a blank answer was given, and for some stupid reason, Melea read his response wrong.

  “You must not have really talked to Charlize; you know she doesn’t even like children.”

  Charlize had heard enough and stepped out of the shadows, “It’s not that I don’t like children Melea, I just don’t care for yours.”

  Melea looked at Grayson, “What kind of woman doesn’t like her own nieces and nephews?”

  “I like my nieces and nephews just fine, I am just not overly fond of your children.”

  Grayson continued to play with the baby and asked young Frazier III to go and get him a drink for the little one.

  “Dear Lord, Charlize, they are just children, or have they done something to disappoin
t you as well?”

  Charlize was through with the conversation—her face, her body language and now her words all echoed the sentiment, “Your children are just like you— spoiled, petulant, and hold a distorted sense of their own importance.” As she uttered the words, the little one walked in the room, removed her Pull-up and urinated in the middle of the floor. Melea was furious at Charlize, who dismissed her and the child to ask Grayson to follow her to the bedroom.

  GRAYSON HAD MANY QUESTIONS, but felt none of this was any of his business. The relationship between her and her sisters were strained and seldom spoke about. He would give her time to open up about it, but right now, his eyes were glued on the shiny pole that extended from the ceiling in the bedroom. It was not there before and Grayson’s eyes went to her face when she told him, “I have a surprise for you and it is still date night.”

  She pushed him over to the chair in the corner and slipped off the robe to reveal a two piece short set that left little to the imagination. Grayson was fully aware that Charlize did a great deal of yoga, but some of the moves she was doing on that pole and upside down on the floor, garnered a new respect for yoga as exercise. Four minutes and fifteen seconds later, Grayson sat, eyes dancing, brain loaded, and uncertain if he needed to marry, mate, or make it rain for his Baby. Either way, Grayson was seventeen steps beyond turned on, and she was in serious trouble.