914 Bittersweet Ln.: A Cherry Falls Romance

by Frankie Love

  "Holt!" She’s begging for more, begging for me. I remember the way her palms pressed together, begging for my fantasy to come to life. And I know it is, it has. My virgin lover is here, ready for the taking. Her eyes meet mine. "Don't make me wait," she begs.

  "You want this?" I ask again, needing to be sure this is everything she wants.

  She nods. "Please," she whispers, "let me be swept away tonight, please?"

  I don't want her to go to places she's not ready for. I kiss her mound again and again. It's still humming with life, so wet, pulsing with need.

  "I didn't think that was possible," she says.

  "Was it toe-curling enough?" I ask.

  She laughs. "Oh my God. I've never..."

  "I know."

  "I didn't think it was possible," she laughs, "to feel that much."

  "Just wait." I slide off my boxers and I take her hand, letting her stroke me ever so slowly.

  "Oh my God. You're huge."

  "Yeah, and you just thought I was a good guy."

  "You're a good guy who is really well-hung."

  “Yeah, I am, aren't I?" I say, grinning. “You like that?"

  "I think so," she says. "I mean, I haven't taken you yet, so I'm not exactly sure I can weigh in quite yet."

  "Are you scared?"

  "Intimidated."

  "Now you know how I felt."

  She laughs, then goes serious, wrapping her arms around my neck. "It felt so good when you touched me," she says.

  Our foreheads rest against one another. She kisses me. "I taste myself on you," she says.

  "What do you think of that?" I ask her. She wraps her legs around me. We're lying on our sides, and I begin to ease myself inside of her.

  "It feels so natural, so perfect, so holy. I like it," she says. "Being here with you like this, it feels, like, meant to be."

  "You're not scared of this moving too fast?"

  She shakes her head. "Should I be scared?"

  I shrug. Somehow, I shrug in the middle of this madness, this beautiful, magical madness. "I'm not scared either," I tell her. "I'm ready."

  "Yeah?"

  I nod. "I'm ready to build a house here with you."

  "Stop," she says. "Don't..." She presses her hand over my mouth. "Don't say things you're not really ready for."

  "I am, though," I tell her. Our eyes lock. Her pussy is stretched out and ready to be taken. I fill her up with my cock. I take her. I fill her, she fills me, and fuck, somehow, we're one in this moment.

  Yesterday, if you'd asked me if Paisley Cassidy was the one that I was made for, I would have wondered what the fuck you were on, who you were talking about, how that could be possible.

  But now, now everything has changed.

  I've seen the goddamn light. I've been shown the way. She is mine. She is my everything. I'd move heaven and earth to make this girl's dreams come true.

  She sang me a song. I saw her heart. I'll give her my soul.

  "Whatever you want," I tell her, "you can have it. I'm yours."

  We move as one. We make love. That's crazy, I know, but we do. We gasp and we pant. And when we finish, she says, "I love you too."

  And it's not just words. It's the goddamn truth. It's more than a statement. It's a promise.

  Neither of us says things just to say them.

  In the back of that pickup truck, when we say I love you, I know we both mean it.

  Paisley

  “What do you mean, you said I love you?" Abilene asks as I flip pancakes on the griddle in my kitchen.

  It's Saturday morning and the kids are all eating breakfast, watching cartoons in front of the TV in the living room. And I'm in the kitchen with my best friend who spent the night after watching the kids.

  I somehow made it home last night after having sex with Holt several times in the back of his truck.

  I don't exactly know what time I got inside the house. All I know is I was exhausted and delirious and needed a shower, maybe two, because I was covered in Holt from head to toe. Mouth to toe?

  I don't know. All I know is Holt and I did the nasty, which was not so nasty.

  It was basically heavenly over and over and over again.

  When it got too cold to stay in the back of the truck, we got in the front of the truck. It proved fine for other things, it turns out. He gives great oral in the front seat of his truck, and I apparently give a great blowjob from the front seat as well.

  Also, for the record, going down on a man as hot as him is quite fun and I highly recommend it at 3:00 AM.

  I smile, dizzy from the memory.

  Abilene snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Paisley. Are you even here? What is happening? Oh my God. Are you seriously insane, certifiable?"

  "No," I say. "I'm just in love. Isn't that what you wanted for me, to be happy?"

  "No, I wanted you to go have a good time."

  "I did have a good time. A very good time. Did I tell you I had S-E-X?"

  "No. What?" She literally spits out her coffee all over my pancake griddle.

  "You've ruined my pancakes." I frown. There's a knock on the door.

  I grin, clap. I walk to the front door, knowing he is on his way. It's him. He has a bouquet of flowers. This one is even bigger than the last. And a to-go cup of coffee. Actually, three. I sigh. I swoon, really. And he has a bag of pastries. He shrugs. "I thought you might be hungry."

  "I'm starved. Famished, really."

  He gives me a kiss, a big old kiss on the lips. I don't even mind that my sister has come to the door and she sees. Her eyes widen. "Sarah Jo," I say, "go back to the cartoons." She turns on her heels and returns to the Disney Channel. Abilene, though, is jaw-dropped and looks at me like I've literally lost my mind.

  "What?" I say. "I told you we fell in love and we had sex."

  "In that order?" she asks.

  I look to Holt. He nods. "Yes. In that order."

  "We're just acting like this is normal?" Abilene asks.

  I look to Holt again. He nods. "Yes. We're acting like this is normal. Coffee? Actually, I brought three different options. I didn't know what you guys liked. So I have an Americano, black. I have a French vanilla latte and I have an oat milk caramel macchiato."

  I reach for the black Americano. "That okay?" Holt nods. "Sure." Abilene takes the vanilla latte. "Do you mind the oat milk?" I ask him.

  "I don't mind at all. I told you I'm pretty easygoing."

  "I remember."

  "So is this like a whole thing? Like a real whole thing?" Abilene asks, reaching for the pastry bag from Holt. We walk into the kitchen and she opens it, reaching inside and grabbing a chocolate croissant. Holt and I look at one another, starry-eyed and laughing.

  "Yeah. I mean, pretty much."

  "You know she has like four children, right?" Abilene asks.

  Holt laughs. "Yeah. I was kind of thinking I should probably get to know them." He scratches his jaw. I look at him, wondering how the hell I managed to meet a man like him. So sexy, so ridiculously charming and ruggedly good-looking. I don't know how I'm supposed to incorporate a man like this into my life, but I am ready to figure it out.

  Abilene looks between us, realizing we're lost in one another's eyes.

  "Okay. So I think I'm going to go,” she says. “Honey, why don't you call me later?"

  "Okay, thanks for watching the kids."

  "Sure. Um, Pais?"

  "Yeah?" I manage to tear myself away from Holt's stare.

  "Do you want to talk outside for a sec?"

  "Sure." I set down my coffee and follow her outside. She grabs her bag and purse and tells the kids she loves them. I meet her on the porch. Her keys are in her hand.

  "Thanks again so much for everything last night," I say. "And I mean it. You literally changed my life."

  "About that. Don't you think this is a little intense?"

  "You're the one who told me to go have fun."

  "I know, but you hardly know the guy."
>
  "So?" I say.

  "So, I mean, shouldn't you like, get to know him a little bit better before..."

  "Before what?" I say. "Before I finally have some fun? Get over the fact my life has been a shit show for the last three years? Enjoy myself? Be happy for once? Stop constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop? Wait. Or was it something else you wanted from me? Because this is a good thing, Abilene, me being happy."

  "I'm not saying I don't want you to be happy, Pais. Of course, I do. I just want you to be careful. I love you."

  "I know. So just let me be happy."

  "Okay." She holds up her hands. "I am not going to say any more. I'm not going to warn you that this might be a little much."

  "Right. God forbid the poor girl from the other side of the tracks is happy."

  "Don't do that," she says. "Don't make this about you versus me."

  "I'm not."

  "Yes, you are, Paisley. Look, just because I didn't grow up like you did and don't have a mom in jail doesn't mean I can't be a good friend who's looking out for you. You just met Holt. We don't know much about this guy, and I'm being a good friend by making sure you're in a good situation. So don't make it any more than that, okay? I love you. I'll see you at work, okay?"

  I nod, giving her a kiss on the cheek before she leaves. When I walk back in the house, I enter a chaos zone, because of course I do. Granger is screaming at Parker, Sarah Jo and Mary Beth are fighting, bickering over the remote control, the pancakes burned because I forgot them on the griddle, and Otis, the dog, somehow chewed up Sarah's homework, literally. And then Parker starts throwing up because that's the next logical thing.

  I look at Holt. His eyes widen as he takes this all in, because this happened while I was on the porch talking to Abilene for literally three minutes.

  "I told you this was my life," I say as I walk into laundry room, looking for a bucket and wash rags, telling Sarah Jo I need a thermometer and speed dialing the pediatrician's office.

  Holt is flustered. He's obviously over his head. The dog starts throwing up Sarah Joe's homework. Now I have two puking mammals and I haven't even drunk my coffee. Holt isn't hung over, but he looks like he's exhausted, probably because he didn't get much sleep last night. That's my fault. But hey, I didn't get much sleep either. I'm not complaining though.

  I twist my lips thinking about Abilene's words. Maybe Holt is too good to be true. It's been three minutes, and I wonder what three days might look like, three weeks, three months, three years. Holt has no idea what life with Paisley Cassidy is actually like.

  And I wonder if he really knows whether those three words, I love you, will hold much muster.

  Holt

  I stay and help as long as I can until I've got to go back to my mom's to relieve Luke. He has Saturday afternoons off, and I hate leaving Paisley, but by the third time I've checked my phone, she tells me to just go.

  “I don't want to leave you like this.”

  She laughs a little too tightly. "No, honestly," she says, "who do you think always does this? I've got it covered."

  I hate going, but I know she's right. She usually does manage everything on her own. I've worked out that she works during school hours, eight to four most days, except for a few night shifts a week on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday nights, when she has a neighbor watch the kids.

  Weekends she's always home because the kids have Little League practice and ballet practice, not to mention accidents, illnesses and incidentals like today. Along with groceries and new shoes to buy, and the lawn that needs to be mowed. She's got a lot on her plate and heavy lifting that has to get done. I'm amazed that she does it with so much grace. Though she is stubborn, I can tell – which I like.

  Of course, I wasn't going to mention that today and said, "I just did what I could to help." Which meant clean house, and ran to the pharmacy to grab some over-the-counter medicine for her brother. It seems like he just has a stomach bug, which might've come from too much popcorn and soda last night during the movie, along with pancakes and a hefty serving of maple syrup this morning. The doctor recommended some rest and applesauce and toast for 24 hours to see if that might do the trick.

  For the dog, we made sure to tidy the floor and make sure he couldn't find anything to scarf up, and I ran a few extra loads of laundry while Paisley sat down with her sisters to have them hash out their argument. Apparently, they'd been getting frustrated at one another for getting into each other’s clothing the last week, and they haven't had a chance to deal with their drama.

  While that was underway, I got in the garage and pulled out the lawn mower, and dealt with the lawn. Paisley’s younger brother, Parker, had a great time doing yardwork alongside me. I showed him how to deal with the dandelions and got him a bottle of weed killer to save his sister some work. I hated to leave the house at all. I could have stayed there all weekend, a few more weeks easy, but I knew I needed to go for my ma.

  Driving away was killer, though. I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay with Paisley. Not just because I wanted to kiss her, hold her, touch her, love her – but because I wanted to make her life easier. And I want to get to know her.

  I have a lot of catching up to do, and I hate that she's carrying so much weight on her shoulders. I want her life to be happy, easy.

  When I get home, I tell my ma all about Paisley while she makes a batch of brownies. I talk about Paisley’s voice, how she should be up on stage, singing her heart out. I walk her through the recipe. Brown sugar, creamed butter, eggs, chocolate chips, cocoa powder. We preheat the oven and butter a dish. The brownies, once they're out of the oven, are delicious, and we eat them with glasses of milk. I turn on that Willie Nelson song. I want my mom's eyes to light up, and for a moment, I think she might remember something.

  But I swallow back emotion when she doesn't. "These are real good brownies," she says. "Where did you get them?"

  "You made them," I tell her. We're sitting at the table. When I was a little boy, we sat at this very table, Cody and I. After school, Ma would make us cookies or brownies just like this. And we would eat them, smiling up at her, telling her about our day. She would laugh, ruffle our hair.

  I would tell her about the baseball pitch I made and how good it was. She would say how proud of me she was. Cody would probably be bragging about something he'd done. Probably some tests he took and how he'd gotten straight A’s because he was always the brightest.

  Damn. He was the best. I fucking miss him. He was better than me in a million ways. They're gone, though. All of them.

  "This brownie is really good," I tell my ma.

  "It sure is," she says. She smiles. Her eyes are blue.

  "I love you, Ma," I tell her.

  "Well, I love you too," she says. And she looks at me, and I want to believe she sees me. I choose to believe that because I can. I can choose right now to believe anything I want. And so I believe that my ma sees me and as I eat that brownie, I make another choice.

  I don't know how I can make Paisley's life easier right now, today, but I will soon.

  "Ma," I ask, "do you still have grandma's wedding ring?"

  She frowns. "Wedding ring," she says, "I don't know about any wedding ring."

  "A diamond ring," I say, "do you know where there might be a diamond ring?"

  Her eyes widen. "A diamond. Oh, I know where there's a diamond," she says, "wait here."

  Later, I'm sitting at the computer, wondering if this is the right thing to do, but I make the decision before it's too late. Not sure if it is right or not, but I press submit before I can change my mind.

  I look at the ring my ma gave me, wondering when will be the right time. Hoping like hell it'll be soon because I love that girl.

  A girl I just met. A girl I want to know forever. A girl I want to make mine.

  Paisley

  The next few weeks are wonderful in many ways. Abilene’s wrong about Holt. He is there for me. He is at the house when I get off from work. He's not smother
ing. He's comforting. He's funny and sensitive and honest. He’s good and true and smart and sexy and good in bed.

  He satisfies me, and those toe-curling orgasms that happened that first night? Oh, they don't disappoint and they haven't dissipated either. They keep on coming. And so do I.

  I wake up in bed amazed and utterly sated. I roll over, looking at him. I let him sleep over, and I'm smiling. "Oh my God," I say, "that was incredible."

  It's Saturday morning. And the kids are all downstairs watching TV, probably cartoons are on. But Holt was wise. He bought donuts yesterday. He brought them with him when he came over last night. We didn't go to the Tipsy Cow because we were smart. Why waste time going out? We had the foresight to stay in, have pizza and a movie and an early night in this room with the door locked, him and me and a noise machine. I smile.

  “So, about last night,” I say as I straddle him, naked. I lace my fingers with his.

  His cock is hard. He groans beneath me. He massages my breasts with his hands. I close my eyes. His cock is so big it's bulging. It's thick and long and hard.

  There have been moments in the last few weeks that have been difficult. Of course, my family is a million complicated things, but this right here… I moan, lifting my ass as he fills me up. "Fuck, baby," he says.

  "Yeah?" I say, smiling, sinking down against him. The morning light filters through the lacy curtains. "Oh my God," I groan.

  “You feel so good,” he grunts.

  I bite my lips together. Shaking my head, I cover my face with my palms. "Oh my God," I say, "Stop. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." I press my hands down to his chest, I drop my jaw wide. "Oh my God," I squeal. "Holt." I cover my own mouth as I cum hard and fast.

  "Fuck," he groans. I press the pillow over his mouth. Stifling his cry, he groans as he cums hard inside me. "Fuck."

  I roll off of him. We both came way too fast. "We can't do this in the morning," I say, "we're way too loud and way too horny. This is trouble. There are children in this house."