Driven to Distraction & Winging It

by Tina Wainscott

  “You felt so good.”

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and reached for him. He was fully aroused, hard and ready to go. She guided him inside her. He inched in slowly, backed up, then slid in again. He filled her more than physically. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he moved in a slow rhythm inside her. She caught her breath, meeting him thrust for thrust. His skin was slick, his hair damp as he kept up the stride for longer than she would have imagined he could. The tight feeling in the pit of her stomach intensified until she thought she was going to explode from the inside out. And then she did.

  She shuddered, and he pulled her close. With a quick thrust and a groan next to her ear, he let go. His whole body trembled as he crushed her against him. He was breathing hard, sweeping her along with his rhythm. It was several long minutes before he rolled them onto their sides, still joined intimately. His face was flushed, his body glistening with sweat. He reached up and touched her cheek, running his thumb across her lips.

  “I suppose…” She cleared the mugginess from her throat. “I suppose you could explain all that scientifically? Endorphines, whatever. Just physical actions and reactions?”

  He nuzzled her neck, sending chills down her heated body. “There’s only one way I’d explain it—euphoria.”

  WHEN SHE WOKE at ten that morning, she relished that prewakening feeling of reliving the night before. Until she realized she was alone. She sat up, feeling sweetly exhausted but vaguely abandoned. She listened for sounds in the house. Nothing. Maybe he couldn’t handle the awkward morning-after stuff. But why should he feel awkward? They’d made no promises, no commitments. Just the opposite. He’d be gone soon—too soon—completely out of touch with her and the legacy he’d left behind.

  She pulled herself out of bed and jumped in a hot shower. She could still feel him all over her. She smelled like him. It was almost like he was there. But he wasn’t, and no matter what, she couldn’t justify the empty feeling that created.

  “Would you like some company?”

  She turned to the frosty door, her heart doubling its speed. Weasel Boy peered through the opaque glass, held aloft by the man who had rocked her world the night before. Or technically, earlier that morning.

  “If that company is the dog, no. If that company is you, yes.”

  He set the dog on the tile floor and stepped in. He was already naked, she noticed. Weasel Boy started to whine as soon as the door closed, but the running water drowned him out.

  She lathered up the washcloth and ran it across his chest. “Is that why you left this morning? To get the dog?”

  “I figured he’d be wanting to go out and he was probably getting hungry.”

  Gawd, she hadn’t even thought about the dog. Perhaps she’d taken this selfish thing too far. She slid the cloth down one of his arms. “I thought you’d hightailed it out of here.”

  “Why would I do that?” He really couldn’t comprehend it.

  “I figured you didn’t feel comfortable with the morning-after thing.”

  He took the washcloth from her and lathered it again. “It’s not that I’m opposed to sleeping over. I’ve just never wanted to.” He carefully washed her breasts, lavishing a lot of attention on them. He continued to slide the soapy cloth down her back and over the curves of her butt. She let out a soft sigh and arched slightly. He was kneeling, washing her legs with the utmost care and precision. The cloth grazed her femininity and made her shudder. He kissed her pubic bone and nuzzled her.

  She placed a finger under his chin and guided him up. “Do you remember how you did everything for me this morning? How you let me be selfish?”

  She took the washcloth and let it drop to the puddle of water at their feet. As she left a trail of kisses across his collarbone and down his stomach, she said, “Now it’s your turn….”

  13

  SUNDAY PASSED in a languid blur of lovemaking, lounging about and even some productivity. Barrett made French toast. After an impromptu romp on the couch, he brought over his computer and notes and put together the first draft of his study. Stacy dragged out Granny’s recipe box and cooked a meat loaf for dinner.

  As he adjusted the last of his numbers and calculations, he watched her in the kitchen. During his sister Kim’s four pregnancies, his mother had talked about the way she’d glowed. Barrett hadn’t noticed it, really. He hadn’t noticed a lot of things, like the colors of a sunset and dogs in the clouds. Stacy glowed. In fact, he spent more time watching her than he did putting those final touches on his study.

  He’d also made some notes on their lovemaking. She astounded him, too. He’d let himself go and gotten lost. It wasn’t clinical, wasn’t a mental checklist of action versus reaction. It was beyond analysis. It transcended any of the scientific studies he’d done on romantic attraction.

  In the space of a week, Stacy had become a part of him. Tomorrow Gene and Judy would return from their cruise, and Barrett would return to his condominium to prepare for his two-year trip and perhaps find his life goal at last. The timing was perfect—the repairs on Kim and Dave’s home would be done tomorrow.

  The timing was rotten. He wanted more time with Stacy to explore these feelings he’d never had before.

  He felt a curious ache deep inside. It wasn’t hunger. Lack of sleep wouldn’t produce pain. Even glancing down at Elmo, who was curled up in his lap, didn’t help the pain go away. In fact, it got worse.

  He who didn’t like dogs was going to miss this little critter, too. He’d tried to talk Kim into taking him. After she got up from the floor upon hearing her brother was around a dog, much less concerned for its welfare, she listened to his argument.

  “Barrett, I have four kids, two in diapers yet. When do you think I’d have time to take care of a dog?”

  “Dave could help. And the two older kids.”

  “Uh-uh. It would fall to me. I’m sorry, but I can’t. They don’t put the animals down at that shelter, so you don’t have to worry about that. He’ll find a home.”

  As though Elmo sensed Barrett was thinking about him, he glanced up in a sleepy way. Then he yawned, showing his full complement of tiny teeth, and tucked his nose under his paws. Elmo probably wouldn’t be happy in a house full of kids anyway. He liked peace and quiet.

  Barrett looked at Stacy and caught her with her hand over her stomach. “Are you all right?”

  She gave him a sheepish smile. “I’ve heard women say they could feel the moment they got pregnant. I thought it was a bunch of hogwash, to be honest with you. But I can feel it, Barrett. I really can.”

  He stood up so fast, he almost forgot about Elmo. He caught the dog just in time and set him on the chair. “You’re pregnant?”

  “I…I don’t know. Maybe.”

  He walked into the kitchen and put his hand over hers. “Wow.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, wow. It’s really happening. It’s been a dream for so long.” She met his gaze. “You’ll have to give me your address so I can send you pictures and updates. If you want them, that is.”

  “Of course I want them. I’ve already typed out all the information. My mail will be forwarded to me on a regular basis, though I want to find out how you can get hold of me if you need me immediately. I’ll keep in touch.”

  “I hope so.” Her voice sounded soft and just a little sad.

  Two years away from her. Two years not watching her belly enlarge, not being with her when she had the baby, not watching the baby grow.

  But he was afraid of babies, some distant part of his mind reminded him. And Stacy had already decided she wanted to do this on her own. She didn’t look like she wanted to do it alone at the moment, though. In fact, she looked scared.

  She took a deep breath and shored up her shoulders. “Don’t worry, I know you’re going to be busy and out of touch for a long time. Then you’ll probably have another project, or maybe you’ll decide to get another PhD. I don’t expect anything from you. That was our deal, after all. If you’d like to be pa
rt of our lives when you’re in town, you can. Just remember that I hadn’t planned to have the baby’s father around at all. I don’t want you to feel obligated, is what I’m trying to say.”

  She turned and checked on the meat loaf again.

  “I’d like to be part of your lives.”

  He thought he could be a peripheral part of their lives when he’d made the offer. Like an Uncle Barrett. See them once in a while, help out monetarily. That’s what he was comfortable with. But the thought of it wasn’t settling well in his belly. It was making that ache even larger.

  “As much as I can,” he added as those two years in a remote jungle loomed like a decade.

  She smiled, though it wasn’t a real smile. “That’d be nice. Well, I think we’re ready to eat.”

  Elmo slurped up his portion of the meat loaf, then after some vigorous air licking, settled onto Barrett’s lap. Stacy didn’t eat much of her own dinner. She was watching Elmo.

  “He sure is going to miss you.”

  “I’m actually going to miss him, too. I’ve tried to figure out how I could keep him, or at the least find him a home. There doesn’t seem to be any way to work it out.”

  She propped her chin on her upturned hand and sighed. “I know.” She was looking at Barrett, but quickly averted her gaze to the dog. “I’ve thought about keeping him myself, but with the baby coming, and the fact that he doesn’t even seem to like me…well, it just doesn’t make sense. Sometimes what you want out of life doesn’t make sense.”

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  “Me?” She let out a hoarse-sounding laugh. “I’ll be fine. Great, even. I got exactly what I wanted—a baby. Or at least I think I did. If I’m not pregnant, I can still go the sperm donor route.”

  “We could try again.”

  She stood and took her plate into the kitchen. “You’ll be gone for two years. I can’t wait that long. I appreciate your trying to help, but…”

  “Let me know. Get a message to me. We’ll work it out.”

  He liked the idea of her getting impregnated by one of those guys on the profile sheets even less than he had before. He wanted to do this. Only him. The sharp jab of possession surprised him. He’d never felt possessive of anything.

  He’d never had anything that mattered.

  “You should probably go on home,” she said in a soft voice. “I know you’ve got that report to finish, and it’s due tomorrow. Remember, you’re never late.”

  “Are you asking me to leave?”

  She paused. “Yeah. Less complicated that way, don’t you think? Besides, I don’t know about your stamina level, but making love all night, and all day, is catching up to me. I’m fried.”

  He nodded, set his plate in the dishwasher and headed to the table. “I could come back later.”

  “And ruin my reputation in this community?” She forced a smile. “I don’t think so. I’ll see you in the morning, before you leave. I’ve got to take Elmo to the shelter tomorrow. If he’s going to stay with you tonight—and please say he is, otherwise he’ll whine all night—I’ve got to come get him anyway. We can say goodbye then.”

  “I could come over tomorrow evening. I’ve got some time before I leave.” He didn’t even calculate the exact time. Didn’t care to.

  “It’s tempting, believe me. But like I said, it’s less complicated if we stop this thing here.”

  “This thing?”

  “Us.”

  There was an us, he realized. Tomorrow there wouldn’t be. The pang returned full force. “Less complicated. I understand.” Then why did it feel even more complicated as he packed up his computer and notes? The prospect of saying goodbye to Stacy was even more complex. Leaving had never been this hard before. He’d never left anyone behind who meant that much to him. “All right then. Good night.”

  He kissed her, keeping it simple and quick. Still, he heard her intake of breath. Before he could think of coming back for another kiss, she took a step back and said, “Good night.”

  AS TIRED AS SHE WAS, Stacy got little sleep that night. Twenty times she’d wanted to go next door and throw her less-complicated baloney to the wind. It was really better this way. Just the one night in his arms made her feel lonelier than she’d ever felt in her life. Worse, the bed smelled like him. She wallowed in the sheets and dreamed of being with him for the rest of her life.

  Then she woke in the morning to reality. He wasn’t the family kind of man. He got bored quickly, which guaranteed he’d get bored with her real fast. He liked to travel to far, exotic places to study things that might one day help the planet. There wasn’t much room for her dreams in that formula.

  She resigned herself to washing the sheets and then felt bad that she couldn’t smell Barrett on them anymore. She couldn’t keep them indefinitely, after all. Granny wouldn’t have done anything like that. Of course, Granny wouldn’t have slept with a guy she had no future with either. She wouldn’t be having a baby on her own.

  With a weary sigh, Stacy took in the disarray in the bedroom. She’d let Granny down, for sure. She’d be disappointed that Stacy hadn’t turned out like her.

  Wait a minute. Had Granny ever said she wanted Stacy to be like her? No, she hadn’t. Stacy surveyed Granny’s decor. Some things had sentimental value, like the afghans and needlepoint. Some did not, like the mushroom clock and couch. Who had planted the directive in her head that she had to live up to Granny’s standards?

  She had. Only her. Just because Granny had been a saint didn’t mean Stacy had to be one, too. She smiled. Then laughed. The sense of freedom was positively thrilling. She raced around the house gathering up all the ugly stuff she didn’t want around anymore. So what if she was throwing away one clock and therefore having to buy another one? Who cared about practicality, anyway? She was going to set a good example for her child—being the right combination of selfish and giving. And having the baby by herself, that was a good thing, too.

  What would Barrett think about these changes, she wondered. Would he like them? Or would…She stopped her thoughts there. He wouldn’t be around to notice them. Her energy drained, and she tossed the last mushroom item onto the pile by the door and sighed. Forget about him. These changes were just for her.

  An hour later, she started over to Barrett’s place to get Elmo and say goodbye. Her chest was tight, and her eyes felt prickly. It was ridiculous to be in love with a man she’d known for a week, but there it was. She’d dated guys for longer than that—okay, for maybe two weeks—and never felt anywhere near this way about them. She adored him. There it was. And there wasn’t a darn thing she could do about it.

  Barrett was carrying a pile of clothing to his Saab. He tossed the neat pile into the passenger seat when he saw her and headed over, Weasel Boy at his heels.

  “Good morning.”

  She shielded her eyes from the bright morning sun. “Morning.”

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “Fine. You?”

  “Terrible.”

  He was too darn honest. Lying was much simpler. Better not to say I was thinking about you all night long and wondering how I could tie you up so you’d miss your flight and not bore you after a month or two. She looked at Weasel Boy. “Ready to go back?”

  As though he knew exactly what she was saying, he stepped behind Barrett’s legs like a shy child. She crouched and said, “Sorry, fella, but sometimes we don’t get what we want.”

  “But you got what you wanted, right?”

  She stood and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Sure, I did.”

  Could he see the lie in her eyes? She tried not to think about how his blue eyes made her feel all jittery and sad and happy at the same time. And adored. There it was, the same way it had been when they’d made love, and she hadn’t even recognized it. Because she’d never seen it aimed at her before.

  “If you’ll wait a few minutes, I’m going to close up the house and I’ll follow you to the shelter,” he said.

 
“Oh. Sure, that’d be great.”

  “Later this morning a woman will be coming by to clean the place. She takes care of my condominium, and I asked her to come over so it’ll be ready for Gene and Judy’s return this afternoon.”

  Why was he rubbing it in how thoughtful he was? It would be better if he’d left the place a wreck, broken a plate or two and clogged up the toilet. Gene and Judy would be disgusted with him, and soon everyone in Sunset City would think he was a terrible person and not wonder why Stacy couldn’t keep him around.

  A few minutes later, Barrett and Weasel Boy followed her out of Sunset City. Some of the female residents were sitting on their front porches, and she wondered if Barrett had given them one last glimpse of his spectacular legs early this morning. They waved, sad smiles on their faces. Were they going to miss those legs, and were they wondering if Stacy was going to manage to let another one get away? A good one, this time.

  Ten minutes later they pulled into the shelter’s parking lot. Well, this was it. The big goodbye. And, she realized, the final test. He’d grown fond of the dog, even Barrett had admitted that. If he could truly leave the dog there, he could leave her behind, too.

  One of her favorite volunteers, Coreen Ernest, was manning the front desk. The feisty short brunette was on the phone. “Are you serious? Why would you consider moving into a no-pets apartment building when you have a dog? Did you even think about how your dog was going to feel when you dumped him here? Did you try to look for a pets-allowed apartment? That’s what I thought. Here, I’m going to give you a list of them in this area. Your dog is going to love you for this. Ready?” She winked at Stacy, took in Barrett and winked at Stacy again.

  RJ waved at her from behind the glass window of his office. He was on the phone, too. She’d already verified that morning that the woman had picked up her five dogs and that Weasel Boy’s cage was free. She and Barrett walked into the building where the dogs resided and down the corridor of cages, sending the animals into a barking frenzy. Bright pink Adopted! signs adorned Buddy’s and Frankie’s cages. She gave them a thumbs-up as she passed them by, feeling happily choked up like she always did when one of her guys got adopted.