by Kat Addams
“Farmer who?”
“Nothing.” She blushed. She’d forgotten that Chris didn’t know she had given the hot guy a silly nickname.
“Wait a minute. Farmer John? Abs … is that the guy at the river? Is that really his name?”
“I don’t know his name. But, yes, he’s Farmer John to me. I’ve got a bit of a quirky-nickname habit. Just add it to the list of shames you already know about me.”
“So then, what’s my nickname?”
“I haven’t given you one,” Klara lied.
She ran through the list in her head she had been toying with recently. Cocky Chris, Conflict Chris, Chris Stiffer, Gherkin. It had to be a gherkin. He couldn’t be blessed in all areas. Her thoughts trailed off as he made his chest muscles dance for her.
They both laughed loud enough that everyone nearby stopped to stare.
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Come on, tell me.”
“I’ll let you know when I think of one. I’m still working on my character development. Remember, you’re helping me with that?”
“Okay, okay. I do owe you some help in that area. Character observation was the deal, right?”
“Right.”
“But you owe me a nickname after.”
“Oh, I’ll give you a nickname. You might not like it, but I’ll come up with something.”
They giggled their way to Ms. May’s house, pulling the almost-empty cart behind them.
“Just so you know, the lady who lives here is very special to me. She’s about as edgy as they come at this age but in a good way. She always looks out for me even if she doesn’t want to admit it.”
“Edgy, huh?”
“Edgy is putting it nicely,” Klara said.
“They don’t grow them like that where I’m from. What’s in the water around here anyway? Vodka?”
“Ha! I could use a bit of that water right now.”
“Tonight?”
“What?”
“The character observation. Let’s get that cocktail, and our debts will be repaid. Just need the nickname, and you’ll be free to go.”
“But I … ” Klara tried to respond quickly, not knowing what to say. She wanted to pick his brain, but she hadn’t known there would be alcohol involved. She could see herself losing to the vodka, his abs, his smile. They kept walking as she stammered, racking her brain for an excuse.
“Lawd, Jesus Almighty, Klara girl. What is it you brought me today?” Ms. May stepped out on her porch, leaned against the doorway, and dramatically fanned herself.
“Well, I brought you roses to replace the ones you don’t bother to water, and I also brought you a friend of mine. His name’s Chris, and he has some questions. He’s writing a story, and he needs more information on the locals. Just about life growing up in the city and any local history you know.”
Ms. May still fanned herself as Chris handed her a bouquet.
“Pleased to meet you, Ms. May.” Chris stuck out his hand to shake hers.
“The pleasure is mine,” she replied, raising her eyebrows. “Klara, honey, can you help me inside before you get started? I’ll bring us out some sweet tea.”
“Sure,” said Klara.
She had only been in Ms. May’s house twice before. It was like stepping back into time. The crackled gold mirrored wall at the end of the hall. The parquet flooring, the doilies, the Tiffany lamp above the dining table. The scent of mothballs and stale coffee knocking you over as you entered the door. It was a very much lived-in house. Things falling apart but still grandma clean. Ms. May always took pride in her home. She was forever a homemaker.
“What the hell, Klara? You’d better tell me this is who gonna give you all them babies. Because that is some good genes right there! Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”
“Well, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my instructor at school.”
“Oh Lawd! I didn’t know you was that nasty,” Ms. May said as she gave Klara a little wink.
“It’s so not like that, Ms. May! Oh my gosh! I’m helping him; he’s helping me. It’s all business.”
“You need to be up in his business. Look at that.”
They both stared out the kitchen window as Chris took a shovel and started digging the old rose bushes up. His chest and shoulders flexing with each movement. The sunlight reflecting off the sheen of sweat he was covered in, making him dazzle in a fiery glow. Both women were breathing heavier as they watched him work. Ms. May started to fan herself again.
“He does look damn delicious, doesn’t he?” Klara said. Her voice raspy with desire.
“Is he good? A gentleman? Is he nice to you? Does he cook and clean? I know he has a good job! That’s a big deal right there.”
Klara laughed at Ms. May’s twenty questions. She knew the old lady cared about her.
“Almost too good. Too good to be true. I didn’t know you cared this much about me, Ms. May.”
“Who said I’m asking for you, honey? Can’t Ms. May have some fun, too? I’m old, but I’m not dead.”
Ms. May pulled herself away from the window to pour a few glasses of sweet tea. She saw Klara smiling as she stayed glued to the window. She had never seen her as radiant as she was now, even covered in muck. She knew the girl was already too far gone, and for a split second, she was worried. Worried that Klara was going to get her heart broken by another one of those useless men out there that she seemed to pick up. She knew enough about Klara’s ex-boyfriends to know that she was bad at picking them. She had seen the hurt in Klara’s eyes when things ended. Klara was a lot like her. Ms. May pretended to be tough, but she was a big softie inside. She wouldn’t ever let anyone see that though. Never. And neither would Klara. No sign of weakness from either of them because what good would that do?
The two women walked back outside and set the tea down on the steps.
“Come take a break, child. Let me get a closer look atcha. Come on over here and sit by Ms. May. Klara said you got some questions for me? Because I got some for you, too.”
Klara tensed up, not knowing where this was going but already suspicious. She knew this old lady was up to something.
“I do. I was going to ask you about life here when you were younger. What you remember about your grandparents’ lives, the city and how it’s changed. Your particular struggles in the city. That sort of thing,” Chris said as he used his shirt as a rag and mopped the sweat from his face and chest.
The women, taking long sips of their sweet tea, sat, mesmerized as he grabbed his own glass and tipped it up. The beads of moisture dripped down his chest, trailing down his navel and stopping at his pants. Klara was breathing heavy again.
Ms. May settled in to answer Chris’s questions. The three of them sat, chatting for far longer than Klara had intended. Ms. May was only too happy to share her ups and downs and all-arounds. It wasn’t often she got to talk about herself, so she indulged and made the most of it.
At least two hours had passed when Klara heard the quiet rumbling of thunder in the distance. She excused herself to finish the last two houses and let Chris and Ms. May continue their conversations.
By the time she made it back to fetch the cart and Chris, the rain had already started to fall.
“Gotta go, Ms. May! Looks like you won’t have to water these today!” she said hurriedly as she motioned for Chris to follow her.
The rain started to come down harder.
“Don’t be a stranger, baby!” Ms. May called to Chris as he ran down the street after Klara.
He caught up with her as she was pushing the cart into the garden shed. The other volunteers had long since gone, the street quiet, except for the sound of the thunder. A loud crack made them both jump and head inside the tiny shed, laughing. The wind picked up and rattled the rotting wood that barely held the shack together.
“Think we can make a run for it to the car?” Klara said, growing quiet as she noticed the way he was looking at her.
He looked like
a lion about to devour his prey. The rain started to pour down, drowning out whatever it was she had been trying to say before he kissed her. It wasn’t just a soft, leaning-in peck of a first kiss. Chris put his arm around her waist and the other on the back of her head and pulled her in for an embrace before stopping to look in her eyes for a split second. Then, it was full-on, hot, lusty, heavy-breathing, mouths-opened, movie-ending kissing.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I should have asked first. I … just … you … ”
“Do it again,” she whispered.
Chris pushed her up against the shed wall, his hand slipping up the edge of her wet thigh. All the way up under her shorts until he found the curve of her ass. He kept it there as he firmly grabbed her, making Klara gasp. She ran her hands along his shoulders and down, raking her nails ever so lightly against the firmness of his back. She could feel him harden against her.
Nope, definitely not a gherkin, she thought.
They stayed in the shed, making out and feeling each other up like teenagers until the rain no longer drowned out their desires, and an awkward silence hung in the air.
“Whoa, where did that come from?” Chris said, stepping back and running his hands through his hair.
“What do you mean, where did that come from? You kissed me! You’re the troublemaker.”
Chris laughed before he caught eye of her serious face. “That’s not what I meant. I mean … I don’t know what overcame me. You just set me on fire!”
“You’re my instructor. I shouldn’t have responded the way I did. I lost control of myself, too, I guess.”
“It’s not like I’m your professor, Klara! I’m just here to teach a quick workshop. There’s no rule against what we just did.”
“What did we just do?”
“I don’t know. It was like a magnet was pulling me to you. I’ve been watching you all day, and I’ve been aching to just kiss you. I really didn’t mean for it to go that way today. Are you upset?”
“No, I’m not upset. Not at all. I hadn’t expected it either, but it was nice.” Klara smiled.
“It was. Very nice,” he said, taking her hand and leading her outside.
They both giggled as they headed toward Klara’s car. She grabbed some towels from the trunk, drying off while discussing the residents’ stories. The ride home was much different than the ride there. Both Klara and Chris kept awkwardly interrupting each other, and it seemed to Klara that there were a lot of dead silences in between their conversations. Neither knew what to say to the other, and the sexual tension still hung thick in the air between them.
“Klara, I really am sorry for that back there,” Chris said as she pulled up to the hotel entrance.
“Chris! It’s no big deal! Really. It was just a bit of fun. Doesn’t mean a thing!” Klara thought her voice might have sounded a little too high-pitched, giving away her lingering excitement.
“Nope, doesn’t mean a thing,” he replied back, his voice trailing off. “Would you still like to do the observation? I understand if not.”
“Of course, you doofus,” Klara said, trying to lighten the mood. She wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, but she could feel the sadness overcome the both of them.
“Doofus! Are you kidding me? Is that my nickname?”
“Ha! No! I’m still working on that.”
“I’ll expect it by the end of our observation. Tomorrow at seven work?”
“That’ll work. Just tell me where I need to be.”
“Here at the hotel. It’s a beautiful place with lots of different people milling about. See you in the lobby at seven,” Chris said before quickly waving good-bye and running off.
Klara hadn’t even gotten a chance to respond before he was gone. She’d thought they would be heading back to the river or to a nearby bar. Not where he was sleeping. Not where there was a bar and a bed. Not …
Oh, to hell with it.
She drove home in silence. The scene in the shed replaying in her memory over and over. Did I really put my hand there? Did he really moan like that into my mouth? Did my leg hike up onto his hip? Dayum. She went over every single detail in her mind. She could feel her heart rate quicken.
She’d had made out with plenty of guys before, but never had her lust overtaken her like that. In the middle of a shed! She’d never done anything or felt anything like that. And then she remembered the sadness in the car that had washed over them both. She had been as blindsided by the sadness as she was by the passion. Why do I feel like this? What the hell is going on with me? She was a headstrong woman; she didn’t have time for feelings.
Klara pulled into her drive. Her brain was on autopilot as she showered, put her pajamas on, took out her iceberg ice cream, and sat on the sofa. It was Saturday night, and here she was again, alone. This usually didn’t bother her, but tonight, she was missing him. She thought she must be crazy. She barely knew him, and yet here she was. He was all she had thought about since she dropped him off. She couldn’t let him in her head like that. She had goals and hopes and dreams, and none involved the drama of the dating world. She wasn’t ready for another one to waste her time or break her heart.
Klara threw the ice cream in the trash and turned the TV off. Her mind speeding through so many thoughts and emotions. She sat at her desk and opened her laptop, and the words came flowing out. For the next six hours, Klara wrote.
four
Klara waited at a table in the hotel lobby. Her pen slowly tapping on the side of her glass as anxiety creeped up her spine. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to meet him here, but he was right. The aged Gothic architecture of the mezzanine, the romantic auras from the stained glass above, the smell of mahogany from another era—it was all beautiful, inspiring, and the perfect place to people-watch.
She sipped her cocktail and eavesdropped on the conversations around her. A particular couple hiding in the corner caught her interest. The man, dressed in a dark gray business suit, sat next to a woman in a form-fitting red dress. Klara could see his hand under the table, tracing along the woman’s thigh. She noticed the woman’s chest rise and fall as her lips parted. The couple stared at each other, smiling and seemingly forgetting they were out in public.
Klara could feel her own breathing become heavy as she observed them to see what would happen next. The man leaned in to whisper in the woman’s ear as she nodded, smiling and sipping on her martini. Her legs spread a little more as the man worked his hand up her thigh, inching closer and closer to caressing between her legs. He turned his head and softly kissed her lips. Klara saw the woman’s body relax, and her hands moved to grip his knees under the table. Their legs tangled together as they moved in closer to each other. They slightly pulled away, lips still parted, breathing in each other.
When Chris exited the elevator, he noticed Klara right away. The way her navy sundress clung to her curves. The skirt softly spilling over her thighs. Her long, dark hair was pulled up in a ponytail, exposing her bare shoulders and back. She sat alone at a table, biting her lip as her gaze drifted across the lobby. Curious, he snuck to the side of the bar to watch her and order himself a beer. He stood against the back of the bar, his eyes drifting back and forth between the couple and Klara’s reaction. He grinned as Klara’s pen tapping turned to slow, circular motions on the paper in front of her. She put her pen down and leaned into the table, slowly sipping her cocktail and arching her back. Chris licked his lips, grabbed his beer, and made his way over to her.
She caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye and quickly pulled herself together and out of her trance. She smiled as he came up behind her, leaning in to look over her shoulder and see her work. She could feel every hair on her neck rise as his body brushed up against hers. The scent of his cologne sent her back into that shed, the moment she’d put her lips on his. The way he had pushed her up against the wall, both gentle and rough.
“It looks like you haven’t gotten very far at all. Have you seen anything that interests you yet?�
� Chris said as he slid into the chair next to her. His legs inches away from hers.
She could feel his body heat on her bare legs. Klara’s face blushed as he looked from the couple and back to her, smiling.
“Ah, yes. I did actually. I’m trying to figure out that couple over there. What do you think their story is? Anniversary?”
“No way. They aren’t married. At least, not to each other,” Chris said, laughing. He could tell he had his work cut out for him with Klara. “Look, they both aren’t wearing rings. Plus, how many married couples do you see acting like that?”
Klara nodded in agreement. Damn, he is perceptive. She really did need to work on her observation skills, but it was just so easy for her to get caught up in the moment and lose focus on her work. Like right now. She was ready to pounce in between the couple and ask if they wanted a third wheel.
“So, you think she’s a sex worker? A prostitute? Or maybe he’s a sex worker?” Klara raised her eyebrows, proud of herself for figuring it out.
Christopher nearly choked on his beer. “That isn’t what I said.” He coughed and shook his head. “Klara, focus. Look at the woman’s expression. What do you see? How does she feel?”
“She’s smiling. Blushing. Her eyes are cast down, but she looks up every so often to meet his eyes and giggle. I would say she feels pretty damn good right now.”
“So, you’re saying she is … ”
“Horny?”
Chris sucked in his breath and put his head in his hands. If she was going to keep talking like this, he was going to have to scoot in just a bit closer and give her his best come-hither eyes. Although he didn’t think he had the best come-hither eyes. He had tried to perfect his smoldering-eye gaze in the mirror once, and he looked more like an old man trying to read the back of a cereal box without his reading glasses.
“Okay, sure. We’re getting somewhere, I guess. But what do you think she is feeling in her heart, her mind, her soul?”
“Well, damn, I didn’t know you wanted me to get that deep.”
“It’s all about grabbing the reader by the feels, Klara. People want to feel. It’s up to you to deliver. Sex comes after the feels—at least, if you’re writing romance. Most of the time anyway.”