Unwrapping Ainsley

by Gianni Holmes

  “It doesn’t matter now anyway because you found someone,” she remarked. “And we’re all excited to meet him.”

  “Actually, Wendy, we need to talk about that.”

  “Oh no. Is something wrong? You two had a lover’s tiff already?”

  “The problem is that he didn’t show,” I admitted, feeling embarrassed. I wished I hadn’t told her how I had met Brody, then no one would have known about this. But, after years of being in a relationship, I didn’t really have friends. She was the closest person to me so when I’d felt a connection to Brody, I had told her. Then she had let it slip to my mother that I was dating someone online, and Mama had tried to pry. I hadn’t even told her his name though.

  “What do you mean he didn’t show? His plane got delayed?”

  I closed my eyes and rubbed at my temples, willing this nightmare to end. The one time I went outside my comfort zone, this had to have happened. Well, that had been a dumb idea. Now I would return to my tried and proven methods that worked for me. Except I didn’t know that many nice gay guys who lived in close proximity to me.

  “I mean his plane landed, but he wasn’t on it.”

  “He missed his flight? Well, is there another one he can get on?”

  I rubbed at my temple harder because as much as I loved her, she could be so clueless at times. I had been hoping I didn’t have to say it out loud because I was aware of the guy who had joined me at the charging station. I glanced at him, that odd feeling settling in my stomach again at the sight of him. When I’d first seen him hurrying toward me, for a stupid minute, I’d almost thought he was Brody. Brody looked nothing like this guy. Brody was older, a couple years older than my thirty-nine years. He also had a solid body on him from the photograph he had sent me.

  I quickly glanced away from the guy when it was obvious he was one of those millennials whose lives revolved around their phones. He hadn’t acknowledged me when he approached the table which was kind of rude, so I had ignored him in kind.

  “Will, are you still there?”

  I blinked and tried to remember what my sister and I had been talking about. Brody. The guy who stood me up. “Uh yeah, well, the thing is, I haven’t heard from him, so I think this trip has been a waste of my time. He’s not coming, Wendy.”

  “But maybe—”

  “Give it up. I’ve been waiting here at the airport for almost an hour. The plane’s here. He has not called nor texted me once. I think it’s pretty clear what happened."

  “Man, this sucks. Mama insisted we get him presents. Everyone did to make him feel a part of the family. Now I will have to tell her the crushing news.”

  “No!” I cried, and in the corner of my eye, I saw my table companion startle. I lowered my voice. “Whatever you do, just don’t tell Mama. I’ll tell her myself when I get there. If you tell her now, that’s enough time for her to dig up the entire county trying to find a single gay man to push at me.” I paused and frowned hard. “Come to think of it, this is all your fault. I told you not to say anything about Brody to anyone, so guess what? From now on, you’re all staying out of my love life. I’ll decide when I’m ready for a relationship.”

  “Alright, sheesh. Don’t snap my head off. We just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy. I don’t need a man for that.”

  “Alright Mr. Happy, I won’t say anything to Mama. Are you dropping by this evening since your date disappeared?”

  “Maybe,” I answered. I had planned to take Brody home to rest while I finished up the rounds at the veterinary clinic where I worked. I had reserved the night off so we could both learn to be comfortable in each other’s presence before I introduced him to my family. “I’m not sure yet. I'lI probably spend a quiet evening at home taking care of chores or something.”

  “That sucks. Come on over tonight. I’ll cheer you up.”

  “Thanks, Wendy. I better get moving. Talk later.”

  “Yeah, okay, bye.”

  As soon as I got Wendy off the phone, I scanned the waiting area of the airport once more, hoping to see Brody’s familiar face. I didn’t. With a curse, I unplugged my charger from the station, satisfied that the phone had enough charge for me to make it home without it dying on me. My late husband had bought me this phone, and I had kept it mostly for sentimental reasons even though the battery was almost no good. I kept it plugged in most of the time, but I wouldn’t change it until I absolutely had to. I remembered the day Luke had presented me with the phone one evening I got home from work. He had insisted I needed a smartphone, and I had taken it without a fuss just to please him.

  “Maybe I can help you.”

  At the unexpected voice, I glanced up to find pretty face across from me looking straight at me. “Excuse me?”

  His cheeks flushed which only made him even more attractive. It was all so weird because I didn’t usually find guys like this attractive. With his long curly hair flowing down his shoulders, eyebrows so perfectly arched, and a nice slender body, guys like him were never my type. He screamed high maintenance. I preferred a man’s man. Someone I could have a beer with, watch the game with, share several cuts of steak. This guy didn’t look like he ate enough. Sparkling water and salad seemed more up his alley by his appearance.

  “Umm, I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation just now and—”

  “You mean you were eavesdropping on my conversation?” I could feel myself turning red at the thought that he had been listening to my embarrassing conversation. At least one side of it, but that was bad enough.

  “You weren’t exactly using a phone booth,” he replied, lips pursed to argue like a petulant child. And I should not find it so damn attractive. He couldn’t be older than twenty-one.

  “I don’t need this from a total stranger who doesn’t know to not poke his nose into people’s business,” I remarked and almost moved to go but, his hand shot out, and he gripped my arm. It wasn’t a tight grip, so I could have pulled away and left, but the light pressure was probably more effective. I paused and turned to stare pointedly at where we were joined.

  “Uh sorry.” He dropped his hand but not before I saw the purple sparkly nail polish. “Look, I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to be so cranky. I’m just not good with flights, and I’m still trying to find my land legs.”

  “Land legs?”

  He shrugged and grinned. Dimples. Fuck. He had the cutest set of dimples. “Yeah, you know how you have sea legs? Land legs are for land.”

  His comparison prompted a snort from me. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing.”

  “Probably not. Much of what I say is not a thing anyway, but hear me out, please.”

  I had to admit that despite wanting to leave and forget this guy, he intrigued me enough for me to want to hear what he had to say. “I’m listening.”

  “I eavesdropped,” he said, emphasizing the word to show he was admitting it. “And I know it’s impolite, but it isn’t like I went out of my way to hear what you were saying.” He swallowed and shifted his stance to the other leg. “Anyway, it sounds like you could use someone to help you out of a family sitch.”

  “Sitch?”

  “You know, situation.”

  “Ah. How do you propose that?”

  He smiled widely at me. “I can be your boyfriend.”

  Crazy. Yup, this dude was batshit crazy to have come up with such a wild proposal. He was joking, right? But he looked damn serious as though he was expecting me to consider it.

  “Are you crazy?” I asked him. “Is there an asylum somewhere you need to report to?”

  He rolled bright blue eyes in my direction. “Ha ha. Glad to know you have a sense of humor. That’s a good quality to have in a spouse. Will take the bitterness off the years when we start getting sick of each other.”

  I scowled at him, finally deciding I had had enough. “Will you stop it? You’re a complete stranger.”

  “So what? You were here waiting for stranger.” He drew closer to me
. “Look, the truth is that I believe we’re in the same situation, and I was hoping we could do a little trade-off. I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend in front of your family, and you do the same for me. It’s pretty straightforward. I like acting, so I’m sure I’ll nail it. Do you like it?” His eyes roamed me from my battered shoes to my head of tousled dark hair before he continued with a dramatic sigh, “Ah, I don’t think you like acting.”

  I returned the once-over he gave me, from the cute half boots he wore, tight black jeans and graphic tee with the message ‘Love don’t pay the bills’ inscribed on it. That pretty much summed up what I thought of him. To even entertain his idea of him being my pretend boyfriend was hilarious. No one would believe it. Not in a million years.

  “You’re not really my type, kid,” I told him. “Nobody will ever fall for that.”

  “What? They’ll think I’m too hot for you?” My mouth fell open at his comeback, but before I could respond he continued. “Look, I know this is not conventional or anything. We’ll be lying to people, but if you hate Christmas as much as I do, and if you want to survive family at this time of the year as much as I do, I think it’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t hate Christmas,” was the only thing I could come up with in response. He had made some good points. If I were desperate. Dammit, I was desperate. I stared at his compact body again. How desperate was I?

  “You don’t love it either,” he replied, sounding sure of himself. “I think the idea’s appealing. Why don’t we sit somewhere and talk more about it? I’m kind of starving, and there’s a restaurant just some minutes from the airport, if I remember correctly.”

  I shook my head at him. “This is crazy.”

  “I know, but if I end up wasting your time, and you don’t believe this can work after we talk some more, then I’ll pay for your lunch. See? A win-win. You get a free lunch.”

  I frowned down at his eager upturned face. He must really not want to see his family alone to be pressing this issue so hard. I found myself wanting to know why. Would his folks have a lineup of gay men at their door too? He was cute enough that he’d be an instant hit. The queasy feeling returned to my stomach, this time at the idea of him and another man. I scowled at the odd possessive feeling. Strange indeed. I had never felt the slightest possession with my husband. It wasn’t needed. I always knew he was mine.

  I should walk away without a word. I really should, but for some reason I couldn’t make my feet work.

  Chapter Three

  Ainsley

  I wouldn’t be disappointed if he said no. It was his right to refuse being involved in this crazy scheme of mine. Even for me, this one was asking for a lot. The more I thought about it, my enthusiasm frittered away. Even if it could work, there was no way this mature guy would agree. I had spent less than fifteen minutes in his presence, and already I found it difficult that he had gotten himself in the exact predicament as me. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who dated on the internet.

  “Fine, I’ll listen, but only for thirty minutes.”

  Just like that, the thrill returned. “You’ll do it?”

  He scowled at me, and it kinda looked hot, so I knew I had to be jet lagged.

  “No, not that I’ll do it. I could eat too, so I guess we can talk about it. That’s all.”

  “Deal,” I replied, without missing a beat, because if he agreed to lunch, he had to at least be considering my proposal.

  “You can follow me in your car,” he stated.

  My face fell. “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh, what?”

  “I don’t have a car.”

  He frowned at me. God, his face turned interesting when he made all these expressions. It never remained set for too long.

  “What do you mean? Are you renting one?”

  I took a deep breath before replying. “My sister was kinda supposed to pick me up, but my phone battery died so I didn’t get to call her. That’s what I was about to do when I overheard—”

  “Don’t you mean eavesdropped?”

  “Fine, when I eavesdropped on your conversation. So, no, I don’t have a ride.”

  He scratched his head as he stared at me with a half-dazed expression like he was trying to figure me out. “Okay, if you don’t mind a lift from a stranger, I can drive us to the restaurant.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I didn’t know him well enough to get into a car with him, but I figured if I made that argument, he would only use it against my idea. Damn, now I wished I had learned to drive because, in Birmingham, the subway system was nonexistent.

  “Okay, let me get my carry-on.”

  I trotted over to my carry-on, grabbed the handle and yanked my charger from the dock. I had enough bars on the phone to snap a picture of his driver’s license and post it on Twitter. If I don’t update my status in an hour, I’ve been kidnapped, possibly murdered. This car belongs to my abductor. On second thought, I changed my mind. I couldn't display the guy’s license all over social media. I decided to forward it to my sister instead.

  “You ready?” he asked, checking his watch.

  “Yeah,” I answered, falling into step beside him. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but the truth was, if we pulled off this whole fake boyfriend thing, my life would be better for it. As much as I didn’t like to admit it, had I showed up at home with Cameron, my parents would have disapproved. This guy was just the kind my parents would approve of. He seemed steady, mature, and focused. He walked with the assurance of a man who was confident in himself. I liked that.

  “You should know I have pepper spray, mace, and a ton of make-up stuff in my backpack I can use as a weapon,” I informed him as the automatic doors parted. I was surprised when he stood aside to let me go ahead of him. A rare gentleman. I couldn’t say I was completely surprised, but still... I was surprised. I didn’t find guys in New York who held doors open for me. I never thought I needed it, but it kinda felt nice to have it done anyway.

  “Next time, you may not want to alert your potential abductor to the weapons you have at your disposal,” he remarked as we walked the pedestrian crossing. There was a little rise to step up to the walkway, and he turned to me with his hand outstretched. “Let me get that for you.”

  I could have managed the suitcase, but I let it go before our hands touched. There was way too much tingling sensations taking me by surprise. I couldn’t afford for him to touch me. Not at the attraction I felt between us. I glanced sideways at him as he pulled my carry-on effortlessly. He wasn’t my type. Not in the least. I didn’t like my guys this bulky. Walking side by side with him only emphasized how different we were in size. He had a few inches on me and his shoulders were built like a fucking wrestler.

  “I was going for the offensive,” I told him. “If you know I can defend myself, you won’t try any funny business.”

  He gave a snort, his eyes which had looked miserable earlier now full of mirth. “What are you going to do? Poke my eye out with an eyelash curler?”

  I was pretty sure he said it to offend me, but I just gaped at him. “You know what’s an eyelash curler?”

  Now he looked uncomfortable. “Uh sure. My sister uses that kind of women’s stuff.”

  Aha, so he had a problem with the femme side of me. I couldn’t say I was surprised. I’d come across two kinds of attitudes to femme guys. Those who couldn’t wait to fuck us. And those who ridiculed us. It seemed as though I had come upon the latter. I was glad I spotted it early on so I didn’t become disillusioned by his gentlemanly actions.

  We didn’t speak as we rode the elevator to the fourth deck. I followed him to a Nissan Frontier pick-up truck in a deep red color. It was a bit dusty but overall in very good condition. I wondered what he did for a living. Then it hit me. I didn’t even know his name.

  “Excuse me,” I said as he unlocked the doors. "What’s your name?"

  He gave me an amused look from over the top of the truck. "I was wondering when you would get to
that question.”

  “Well, you could have asked too.”

  “Except I already know you’re Ainsley.”

  “What? How?” I gaped at him.

  “The tag on your suitcase,” he replied, gesturing to the case as he stashed it on the back seat.

  Right. This guy was beginning to make me feel very dumb, and I didn’t like that feeling at all. “Come on. Show me your driver’s license.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I look horrible in it.”

  “Seriously? You’re wearing plaid with hiking boots and sweatpants. You don’t care how you look.”

  He paused and looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with my look?”

  I smiled at him. “Plaid’s dead. Anyway, that’s one of the perks of me being your pretend boyfriend. I can teach you fashion sense. You'll never ask that question again.”

  The scowl was back. “You know, for a guy who needs my help, you sure keep pushing my buttons.”

  I bit back my retort. He was right. There was no sense in egging him on. “Just let me see your driver’s license. It’ll make me feel better about getting into your truck. I’m too old to yell stranger danger.”

  He snickered but this time dug into the front pocket of his sweatpants. His hand shifted the material, and everything inside me froze, including my breath. For just a moment, I caught an eyeful of his package printed out at the front. Holy shit, if the guy who stood him up knew what he was missing, he would get on the first plane to Shuttlesworth Airport.

  Withdrawing his license from his wallet, he handed it over the hood of the car to me. I shrugged off the sense of wonder and alarm bells going off in my brain. I plucked the card from his grasp. “Thank you.” I checked out the information on the license. In the photo, he had a lot of facial hair, and he was hardly recognizable. It was a horrible picture. I quickly scanned the information. “William John Hicks.”