Take Me to Bed: A Collection of Naughty Bedtime Stories

by Michelle Windsor

  Kelly’s eyes, usually so full of merriment and sarcasm, appeared completely serious, as they bounced from her to Colin and back again. He looked to his older brother with unguarded concern. At that moment, Colin’s expression also seemed to register that Kelly had put two and two together.

  Sam began to panic. Everything was getting ruined. It was her last day, and she just wanted to enjoy it with Colin, without the others finding out about them. She had the rest of her life to mourn his absence. She wasn’t ready to relinquish him now. Her heart began to pound and she felt as though she was going to be sick.

  She wouldn’t get to be with him one last time.

  She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Was this what tomorrow would feel like? No, tomorrow would be worse because it would be final. Permanent. There wouldn’t be the remote chance that she might pass him in the hall or catch him sneaking into her room to steal a kiss.

  Her chest hurt.

  Everyone’s voices blended together until they formed a loud obnoxious hum that deafened her to all other sound.

  As the fleeting thought that she was having a panic attack occurred, she looked to Colin and saw mirrored fear in his eyes. He stood and everything went black.

  * * *

  Sam opened her eyes, her vision winked from flurry to fuzzy to clear and she saw Braydon and Maureen looking over her. She must’ve passed out because she was lying on the kitchen floor.

  “Mother of Christ, thank God you’re awake!” Maureen cried when she opened her eyes. “Have you ben drinkin’, love? It’s nary ten o’clock. Or maybe a drink is just what you need. Sheilagh, grab my whiskey under the sink, next to the Windex.”

  “Are you all right?” Braydon asked his tone soft and genuine.

  Her head hurt. Had she fallen out of her chair and hit her head? How embarrassing. The sharp, humiliating sting of tears prickled her eyes. She looked at Braydon, wishing he were Colin. Maureen continued to fuss and chatter to the others.

  Braydon leaned close to her ear and whispered, “He’s right there, behind me. Look over my shoulder. It’s killing him not to be able to hold you and check if you’re all right. Be a dear and give him a nod so he can relax.”

  She looked over his shoulder and saw Colin. He was standing with his back practically to the door and his expression restless. When their gazes locked she gave him a shake of her head telling him that aside from being humiliated, she was fine.

  After breakfast, Sam had to down a shot of whiskey just to get Maureen to relax and stop fussing over her. No one understood what had happened and she didn’t want to explain her history of panic attacks. Realizing she wasn’t going anywhere, Colin left but never said where. She needed to get a grip. How did the saying go? An hour of love is better than a lifetime without it? Well, her hour was about up.

  When she returned to her room to wash her face and get over her bruised pride, Braydon knocked at the door. It wasn’t closed so he pushed it open. “Hey, can I come in?”

  “Sure.” She waved for him to enter. It was his room after all.

  “You okay?” He pressed the door closed and sat on the bed.

  “I’ll live. Just embarrassed.”

  “There’s really no need to be embarrassed. No one’s making fun of you. We were all worried.”

  She plopped down on the bed and sighed.

  “What happened, Sam?”

  Resigned, she admitted, “I have anxiety attacks. I’ve had them since I was a kid. They don’t come as often as they used to, but when they do come, they can sometimes cause me to black out. What you just saw was a pretty bad one.”

  “Is it Colin? Is that what you’re stressed out about?”

  She looked at him. He didn’t seem angry or to be was judging her, only curious. “It’s a lot of things, school, my parents, graduating, job hunting…Colin.”

  “What’s going on between the two of you? I know it’s more than friendship, Sam.”

  She pressed her lips together and refused to cry. Barely whispering she said, “I love him.”

  “Does he love you?”

  She nodded.

  “So he’s not taking his vows?”

  She shook her head. “He’s still becoming a priest. He never led me to believe this would change anything and I knew it changed nothing going in.”

  * * *

  Colin marched a long way from the house and when he’d gone far enough he roared at the injustice of the world, angrily forking his fingers through his hair and kicking a rock into the distance.

  “You got it out now, buddy?”

  He spun on his heel and found Kelly watching him.

  “Go back to the house,” Colin growled.

  “I don’t think so. How about you tell me what’s going on between you and Sammy.”

  Colin gritted his teeth. “Mind your own business, Kelly. I’m not one of your bar patrons dying to bear my soul to you.”

  “How ‘bout to Sam? Would you bare your soul to her? Maybe you already did.”

  “Fuck you. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m gonna give it a try. I think while our golden boy Braydon has been otherwise occupied you took it upon yourself to entertain Sam, pretty little thing that she is. At first it was all just charity and compassion for a stranger left alone among a pack of wolves, but then you realized there was a lot more to her then you first saw. The more time you spent with her the more you fell for her. And now she’s leaving and you’re too much of a pussy to admit you may be human after all and actually go after what you want most.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Colin nearly snarled.

  “Maybe not, but I do know that in my entire life I never saw you look at anyone the way I caught you looking at her this morning. Do you love her?”

  Before he could answer he heard Braydon yelling from the house and marching toward them. “Yo, Colin! I need to have a word with you.”

  “Great,” Colin muttered under his breath.

  Braydon marched right up to him and shoved him in the chest. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Stunned that he was being attacked Colin shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about Sam. I ought to kick your sorry ass! What the fuck did you think would happen? It would all just go away?”

  “What would go away?” Kelly asked.

  Before Colin could tell Kelly to take a hike, Braydon turned to him and snapped, “Stay out of it.”

  “Fuck you, Bray. And fuck you too, Colin.”

  Braydon turned back to Colin and pushed him. “She’s up there about to cry, and it’s all your fault.”

  “Who’s crying? Sammy?” Kelly asked and they each ignored him.

  “What do you want me to do, Bray? I never made her any promises.”

  He hated that she was hurting, but they had each known this moment was coming.

  Braydon growled at him. “Then you don’t do anything! You had no right to play with a girl like her knowing you were never going to change your plans! She fucking loves you, asshole. And you're so goddamn pigheaded you’re going to let her go so you can go play monk and take vows of poverty and celibacy and any other sacrifice that makes your pompous ass feel more like a righteous martyr.”

  His brother’s words stunned him and he reacted without thinking, punching Braydon square in the nose.

  Utterly shocked by his actions, Colin reared back. It was a knee jerk reaction, one he hadn’t had since he was a kid, horsing around with his brothers. But this wasn’t horsing around. His brother’s accusations stung. Disgust for his barbaric behavior set in before his arm even returned to his side. But Braydon wouldn’t know that. No, rather than evaluate their emotions on a sophisticated level, Braydon found it better to throw an uppercut that knocked Colin right on his ass.

  All hell broke loose. Punches flew and knuckles collided with flesh. Somehow Kelly got tossed into the melee and Luke was suddenly there r
ipping them all apart.

  “What the bloody fuck is going on?” Luke screamed.

  Colin caught his breath and stared hard at Braydon who had blood smeared from his nose to his cheek. Kelly, the scrappy little shit, looked like he just stepped out of a cover shoot. Colin tasted blood and ran his thumb under is lip. Yup, blood. Luke looked from one brother to the next.

  “What the fuck?” he asked again.

  “Sorry,” Colin said to the three of them.

  “What the hell happened?” Luke asked.

  “Nothing,” Braydon said, not making eye contact with him or Luke.

  Luke looked at Kelly and Kelly held up his hands, “Don’t look at me. I was dragged into this.”

  Blown away by the stench of bullshit coming from his youngest brother Colin snorted out a disbelieving laugh.

  Kelly looked at him. “What? I was.”

  He was done with all of them. Turning on his heel to return to the house Colin said to no one in particular, “I’m leaving.” Thankfully no one tried to stop him.

  As Colin passed the guesthouse he spotted Tristan waiting at the door. Odd thing was he didn’t have shoes on. “If you’re looking for Luke, he’s that way.”

  When he returned to the house he marched straight up to his room and shut himself in. After locking the door behind him he went through the bathroom and locked the door leading to Sam’s room. He sat on his bed and cradled his pounding head. He needed to think for a minute. Think and pray.

  15

  Sam heard the door lock, locking her out of Colin’s room and felt as if a part of her broke away from her soul. It was starting. He was pulling away. How would she ever get through these last few hours? She went to the door and softly tapped against the wood.

  “Colin?”

  She listened, but heard nothing. She flinched when she heard the sound of something crashing against the floor and glass shattering. Her hand instinctively went to the knob. She jiggled it, but it was locked from the inside as she’d suspected.

  “Colin, please let me in.”

  She waited a moment longer and then saw the shadow of his feet peek out below the door. Her hand went to the wood, as if she could somehow touch him, get through to him. He was hurting too.

  “Colin, I know you’re there. I know you can hear me. Please don’t shut me out. Please.”

  The shadow of his feet retreated followed by the soft click of his door closing once more. Samantha choked as the weight of her tears became too much. He wasn’t being fair. They had one more day. It was his fault they couldn’t be together and she understood that from the get go, but now he was cutting their time even shorter. Who gave him the right?

  She silently cried until she had the sense to know her tears were useless. If he wanted to shut her out, let him. Angry that she couldn’t even use the bathroom to clean up her face, she grabbed her debit card and driver’s license, a few twenties from her wallet, and headed out the door.

  Luckily, the first person she saw was Kelly. She knew he had figured out what was going on to some extent and at this point she really didn’t give a shit who knew what.

  “Hey, love, you feeling better?”

  Sam knew she looked a fright, but there was nothing she could do about it at the moment, not without the use of her damn bathroom.

  “Will you take me somewhere, Kelly?”

  “Sure. Where do you need to go?”

  “Away from here.”

  He considered her request, his gaze scrutinizing. Something he saw in her expression must have told him she needed to escape. Without asking for further explanation, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his keys.

  Dangling them from his fingers he said, “Let’s go.”

  Kelly drove an old beat up truck that smelled of worn in leather and sex. There was an Irish trinity pendant hanging from his rearview mirror and Samantha watched it twirl and lean from side to side as they drove to God knew where. She didn’t care where he was taking her so long as it was away from Colin.

  She appreciated that Kelly didn’t try to fill the silence with meaningless babble. She wanted to simply stew for a while.

  The truck slowed as they pulled up to the ball field. Leaning back, Kelly reached across her lap and opened the glove compartment. He pulled out a flask and she said, “Are you sure that’s a good idea if we have to drive back?”

  “It’s not for me, love. It’s for you.”

  She stared at him as if he were crazy. Whatever Maureen had given her earlier felt like it burned a hole through her esophagus. She really hoped it wasn’t Irish whiskey again. Not wanting to offend him, especially when he had helped her run, she said, “It’s not even eleven in the morning.”

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere. Come on.”

  She followed him to the dugout and they sat on the same bench they had occupied that first game.

  He handed her the flask. “Wanna tell me what’s going on, Sammy? I know it has to do with Colin and I know what you feel for him is more than what friend's should probably feel for their boyfriend’s brothers.”

  She considered confessing everything to Kelly, but in the end chose the whiskey. Taking the flask from his hands, she unscrewed the cap and brought the cool metal nozzle to her lips. Even the fumes smelled like turpentine. She shut her eyes and tipped back a sip.

  Sam sputtered and coughed as it made it past her throat and started a fire deep in her belly. “Oh, God, how do you drink that?”

  He laughed. “Now what kind of Irish lass are you if you can’t drink your Tullamore Dew?”

  “A sober one.”

  “Ah, now that’s no fun. Give it another go. The second time’s not that bad.”

  She gave him a skeptical look and held her breath as she took another sip. Nope, still horrible.

  Kelly got a good chuckle out of her contorting face as she suffered through each swig.

  Over the next several minutes he coached and coaxed her into several more sips. The whiskey didn’t burn as much anymore. They decided to take a walk around the bases and wound up lying in center field watching clouds roll by.

  “Are you feelin’ a bit better now, love?” he asked in an Irish lilt.

  She giggled and had no idea why. “Yes. Why do you guys all fake Irish accents?”

  “Ah, we are not fakin’, love. The Gaelic’s in our blood. It tis what it means to be a McCullough. We know how it makes the lassies mad with lust so we try to talk normal- like most of the time.”

  “I think you’re all a bunch of drunks.”

  He laughed and faced her. He really did have the most mesmerizing eyes. His heart shaped face and scrappy elfin hair made her feel like she was in the company of a fictional character of lore.

  “Now, look who is talking. I give you one wee flask and yer tongue becomes as sharp as a sward. I believe you’ll fit right in just fine with the lot of us. Look at ye, lyin’ in the middle of a field, piss drunk, before you’ve even had lunch. It’s like my Morai always said, A McCullough lying on the floor is the only kind of McCullough who will drink no more.”

  “Well I’m not a bloody McCullough!” she said tipping the flask to her lips and taking another sip. When she found it empty she shook it above her face and frowned.

  “A-ha, seems to me you’ve taken all yer toasts.”

  “Do you have any more?”

  He laughed. “’Friad not, love. I’ll have to be getting you home soon anyway. I’ve work in a few hours.”

  “I don’t want to go back.”

  He turned to her and watched her for a moment. His blue eyes seeing parts of her she wished she could keep hidden, but such was the sadness of being drunk in a ball field.

  “Do you love him, Sammy?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she whispered back.

  “Then he’s a fool.”

  Enough said.

  They lay in the field for a while longer, not talking about anything too serious. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sam knew she was getting
sunburn and probably had a dozen more freckles on her nose to show for it, but she didn’t care.

  When Kelly finally helped her to her feet she toppled right back to the ground and realized how drunk she actually was. The dugout wavered like a seesaw and home base looked like a tilt-a-whirl.

  He helped her to the truck and even buckled her in. As he walked around the car to the driver’s side, dread built inside of her at the thought of returning and feeling dejected even more. Kelly climbed in and paused when he saw her expression.

  “No, no, we’ll have none of that. I didn’t give you my good hooch so you could piss it away on tears and sorrows. Where’s the smile I saw minutes ago?”

  “I lost it,” she slurred, slouching against the seat to face him.

  “Well, perhaps not all is lost. Your time here is not over yet and farther more Colin is no bloody better than the rest of us. He’s no priest as of yet. Who’s to say how things may change between now and then?”

  “He wants to take his vows, Kelly. He’ll do it. I know him.”

  Kelly smiled sadly at her and lovingly touched her cheek. She would’ve been uncomfortable had anyone else done so, but that was just Kelly, openly affectionate. “He wants you too, love. That’s the crux of it all, that he can’t have you both. He loves his church. She’s all he’s ever opened himself to, but he loves you too, Sammy.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I can’t compete with Gob.”

  “Gob?”

  “You know what I mean. God! This is all your fall. You and your damn whiskey. God, I can’t compete with God.”

  “Ah, but the church and God are two different matters entirely. No one said if he has you he can’t have his God as well.”

  “That’s not what he wants. I know he loves me, but he loves the church more. I would always be the mistress who ruined what could have been a perfect marriage.”

  “Well, if that’s true then he’d better be damn sure because I have no doubt that someone will wife you up in no time a’tall. And while an Irishman may be able to go twenty years without kissing his wife, he’ll kill the man that does.”