Bronx

by Tess Oliver

  I reached for her and pulled her down to the blanket. Her legs tangled around me as our mouths slammed into each other. I pushed her sweater up over her breasts and pulled the cups of her bra down. I pulled my mouth from hers and took her nipple fully into my mouth, running circles around it with my tongue. She arched her breasts toward me to feel the full pressure of my mouth against her. We clumsily struggled to free ourselves of our shoes and jeans. She lay back laughing as I finally kicked my pants free.

  "So you think that's funny, do you?" I asked. She gasped as I yanked her panties down to her ankles, spun them around on my finger a second, then let them fly. I knelt over her, staring down at her as she peered up at me with longing in her brown eyes.

  "I'm thinking we try something a little different." I reached down, took her hips in my hands and flipped her over.

  Her gasp turned to a little yelp of excitement as she pushed to her hands and knees. I leaned over and kissed her back, running my mouth down the length of her. I continued the trail of kisses along her ass and stopped to press my mouth against her pussy, exposed and hot, in the late afternoon breeze. I knelt behind her and reached under to stroke her clit as my cock slid into her.

  "Jack," she cried out. My name from her sweet, turned-on lips floated to my ears like music.

  "Again." My voice sounded hoarse and low as I drove into her deeper with each thrust. "Say it again."

  "Oh, Jack." This time it came out on a soft whisper, breathy and full of heat.

  She lifted her ass to take in more of me. I buried myself as deep as I could go. Her thighs closed around my hand, nestled against her pussy while my thumb stroked her clit. She bucked against me harder. I couldn't help but give her ass a playful little slap. She squealed with desire. This time it was her pleading for more. "Again," she pleaded.

  I slapped her ass again. A half-moan, half laugh rolled out of her mouth.

  "Oh Jack, I'm—" her words fell off as she snuggled my hand against her pussy, all the while rocking back into my cock as it impaled her again and again.

  I clutched her hip with my free hand and pulled her against me. Our bodies slammed into each other until her entire body tensed and she came. Her soft cries of pleasure drifted over the open grassy fields and dissipated in the autumn breeze. She nearly collapsed beneath me through the shuddering waves of her orgasm.

  I held her hips firmly between my hands as I pumped into her, prolonging the waves until her entire skin was flush pink from it. One final thrust and my body went over the edge.

  "Fuck yeah," I growled. The thrusts slowed, but I still pushed into her, milking the last edges of orgasm for both of us.

  We both collapsed down onto the blanket. I pulled the free edge over us, wrapping our bodies tightly together. Layla wriggled and settled in snuggly next to me. She yawned sleepily.

  "This is even better than the naps I daydream about at work," she said groggily. She tucked her face against my chest and scooted even closer. I wrapped my arms tighter around her, the blanket holding us together like a tortilla on a burrito.

  The soft sounds of birds in nearby trees and the light rustle of the fall breeze through the slowly dying tree leaves lulled us both into a sleepy state.

  "Hmm, I could stay like this for the rest of the weekend and be perfectly content," she said softly.

  "Me too." And as I lay there holding the woman who I had loved long before I should have, a sudden heavy feeling hit me. This thing between us was so fucking fragile, vulnerable. Like a dandelion in the wind, it could break apart into a million pieces, pieces that could never be brought back together. Aside from my parents, no one outside of our nice blanket cocoon could know about us. It was a fucked up deal, only it was the way of it. For the time being, I saw no way around it. I'd finally found someone who I adored so much all I wanted to do was shout it to the whole fucking world. But I couldn't. I had to keep it to myself. Any wrong move could tip this whole thing in the wrong direction and I'd lose her. It was too shitty to think about, but somehow, the fucked-up thought had wedged itself into my mind and I couldn't seem to shake the feeling of dread.

  24

  An idyllic afternoon coasted into an extremely pleasant night. A brisk chill had fallen over the ranch, making the perfect excuse to start a fire in the hearth. I'd finished blanketing the horses and making sure they were fed and watered for the night. I walked inside to the aroma of Mom's lasagna and the cozy warmth only a roaring fire could produce. Tom Petty's "Room at the Top of the World" was thrumming through the speakers, a song that couldn't have been more fitting to the way I was feeling.

  Layla's hair was still wet from the long shower we took together. She had it combed off her face. Her skin was flawless, like everything else about her. "I envy your mom. This house, this lifestyle, with the man she loves. What a dream." She handed me a cold beer and picked up one for herself.

  "Trust me she pinched herself a lot after we got here. Especially after the rough run she had back in Westridge. She earned this life."

  "I'm glad she found so much happiness." As soon as she said it, she turned to me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that knowing what they're going through right now, but I'm still glad things worked out so well for her."

  We made our way over to the fireplace. I'd placed some of my mom's gazillion throw pillows on the floor so we could sit in front of the glowing flames. Layla propped up a few pillows to lean against and I did the same.

  "Thanks to you, I think they have more hope than worry in their hearts right now. This clinical trial has given Vick a whole new attitude. He still talks about his will and what Mom and I should do with the ranch once he goes, but he spends far less time depressed and tired. Seriously, Layla, I don't know if you realize how much you helped him . . . us." I reached over and caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes as my fingers drew along her soft skin. "Layla," I started. Her phone pinged on the end table interrupting our moment. I wasn't sure if I was going to say any more than her name. She knew. She already knew how I felt about her.

  Layla's phone pinged again. She sighed in frustration. "Probably someone trying to get me to cover their Sunday morning shift." She reached over to the end table and picked up the phone. She stared at it. Her lips turned down in a slight frown. Then she smiled.

  "It's Gabe. At first, I freaked out thinking, oh no, he knows we're together at the ranch." She tapped the side of her head. "Then, ditzy broad that I am," she added in an east coast accent, "I remembered he can't see through the phone." Before I could suggest against it, she tapped open the message. Her face fell with another frown. "He texted that he needed me to see something." This time she tapped the screen with hesitancy. Instantly, I heard the scraping sounds that came with a video. Bulldozer's easy to recognize voice followed. His speech was slow and stretched from drinking.

  "Hey, Tiger, I told Helix to save this video in the unfortunate event of my death." He hiccupped loudly. Layla's expression was frozen as if I was looking at a photo instead of the real woman. "So, if you're seeing this, then I guess I'm dead. How the hell did that happen?" Helix laughed in the background. They had obviously gotten stupid ass drunk one night, and Bulldozer suddenly had the brilliant idea to tape a last will and testament kind of thing. It might have been a joke to them at the time, but judging by the pallor of her complexion, it was no joke to Layla.

  "Baby, baby," he repeated. "I love you. I'm sorry if I was an asshole husband, but you know, you know." There were a lot of pauses, where it seemed his state of inebriation was making it impossible for him to find words. "You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and I want you to be happy." He hiccupped and it seemed the whole speech was over. Then another hiccup and he continued. "I want you to be happy but not Bronx. Fucking don't be thinking about Bronx. Find someone else. Not that I plan on leaving you, baby, ever. You're stuck with this big guy," his and Gabe's laughs mixed together, then the video ended. My phone pinged right then.

  I wasn't interested in talking to anyone
at the moment. The video had messed Layla up good. Tears were already beading on the edges of her lashes.

  My phone pinged again. I grabbed it off the end table. It was a text from Helix.

  "Saw you today when I went to my favorite breakfast place, Moonpie's Diner." Another text followed. "You and I need to talk."

  "Fucking right we do," I texted back and tossed my phone across the room.

  Layla looked up, the first time she'd moved since the video came through. She gazed questioningly at me through glassy brown eyes.

  "Helix knows," I stated darkly. "He saw us at Moonpie's. Guess the secret is out."

  "I'm horrible. I'm the worst. I can't do this." Layla jumped to her feet.

  "Layla, let's talk about this," I called to her as she raced out of the room and up the stairs.

  25

  What had started as one of the best weekends of my life had devolved into shit. I had committed to watching the ranch until Sunday night. My parents planned to be home by six, so Layla and I could head back home for the work week. After Helix had destroyed the night with his texts and video, Layla had disappeared upstairs. She skipped dinner and turned down even a snack. I slept on the guest bed, although sleeping wasn't really the term for the tossing and turning that plagued me all night.

  The sun was barely up and a dewy frost had covered the grass in the pastures. It wouldn't be long before the pastures were brown and the trees were naked of leaves. I pulled on my boots and walked to my bedroom door. I pressed an ear to it to listen for sounds, but it seemed Layla was still sleeping. At least she was no longer crying.

  Tired and tense as I was, morning chores were just what I needed. A mouse scurried out of the feed shed as I opened the door. Two of the dogs gave chase, but it was only half-hearted. They knew that little critter would slip into a crevice long before they caught up to it. I heaved a bale of hay into the wheelbarrow and headed to the barn.

  The horses began their morning chorus of whinnying and pacing as they anxiously waited for breakfast. The sounds and smells of the horse barn were always comforting, even when things in my life weren't going the way I wanted. That was definitely the case at the moment. I lost myself in the task of feeding horses for a few minutes, but all of it was still right there, at the edge of my brain reminding me that I'd lost Layla and probably for good.

  It was obvious that the video was filmed while both Helix and Bulldozer were plastered. Bulldozer was so off his ass drunk he could hardly speak. But even slurred and slow, the words had huge impact on Layla. Her shoulders rounded, and it seemed she wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. She considered herself a bad person. The look on her face when she said those words cut right into me.

  I finished feeding the chickens and headed back to the house. Mucking, removing blankets and turning out were chores for after breakfast, when the sun was up higher and the air had warmed. I'd had visions of Layla and I making pancakes on my mom's big griddle, a Sunday breakfast fit for a rancher. But those visions had been obliterated. No matter what happened next, I wasn't sure how Helix and I were ever going to come to terms with this. All I could think was how badly I wanted to plow my fist into the guy's face.

  The dogs raced past into the house. I quickly found out what had them so excited. Layla was sitting on a dining room chair, clutching a cup of coffee. She gave each dog a hearty greeting, then returned to her coffee. Her eyes and nose were puffy and pink from crying. The anguish on her face reminded me of the day we met. Only on that day, I was anguished and she provided me with some comfort. I couldn't do the same for her. I was reeling on the other side of her anguish, now in utter limbo about where things stood between us.

  "I can make some pancakes and eggs," I suggested.

  She stared at her cup, not lifting her gaze. "I'm afraid I have no appetite. But don't let me stop you from breakfast. I can go back upstairs."

  I swung around and said no far too sharply. At least it caused her to look up at me. The hurt in her eyes was even deeper than I expected. It felt as if someone had punched me in the chest.

  "I mean, if you're more comfortable you can go back upstairs or anywhere you want," I said lamely. "I'm sorry I can't take you back home right now. I need to take care of the animals."

  She was shaking her head as I spoke. "Being at home isn't going to make me feel any better. I just—I feel like my emotions have been run over the side of a cheese grater. Shredded, I feel shredded."

  I pulled out a chair across from her and was relieved when she didn't pop up to leave.

  "He was so drunk in that video, Layla, and—" I sat back. "Don't know what else to say about it. But I think he'd want you to be happy."

  She pulled a tissue out of her sleeve and laughed quietly. "I'm turning into my grandma. She always kept a tissue tucked in her sleeve. I thought it was so gross and now here I am." She wiped her eyes and tucked the tissue back in the sleeve. "I should never have fallen for his trick. Back when we'd argued and he scoffed at the notion that I would take up with any of his workmates. I took the bait and gave him the name. Bronx, I told him. I'd said it so fast, he instantly started grilling me, asking me how long I'd been sweet on you. He even accused me of being unfaithful. I was so mad at him about it, we didn't talk for a week. Here he was flirting, grabbing and basically being unfaithful right in front of me . . . and others, our friends and people we worked with. It was humiliating, but I kept the anger inside. I thought maybe if I acted like I didn't give a damn he'd stop. Maybe he'd see that it wasn't triggering me and get bored of the whole thing." She laughed dryly. "That plan didn't work at all. He even got worse, more blatant." She sniffled and looked straight into my eyes.

  For a second, I was lost in her brown gaze. For that fleeting moment we were back at this time yesterday before the video, before this whole thing had blown up.

  "I'm sitting on the other side of this. Bulldozer was a workmate, but that was really the start and finish of our relationship. I saw how he treated you and I hated him for it. But it was none of my business or so I told myself many times. All I know is this thing between us feels so damn right that I can't imagine my life without you."

  She looked down at her cup again. "I feel like I'm betraying him. You and I, we admired each other from afar, but we never acted on our feelings. We never did anything wrong."

  I sat up straighter feeling hopeful, feeling like maybe this could still work.

  "But," she said quickly, softly.

  I shook my head. "I hate that word. But is never followed by something I want to hear."

  She forced a weak smile. It only served to make the ache in my chest stronger. "Like you said, you and Adam were just work acquaintances and while your jobs required a much deeper meaning of that phrase than two people in an office or department store, it's still far from the depth of relationship I had with him. He wasn't just my husband. We grew up together. For all his faults, he never wavered in his affection for me. And I can say the same about him." She reached over for my hand. I gave it to her. I curled my fingers around hers. "I love being with you, and I'm happier than I can remember when we're together. But I don't think my conscience can allow this to flourish. That video—" She shook her head and released my hand. I kept mine there a moment longer hoping she'd reconsider everything, the hand holding, the words she was about to use to skewer my heart. "That stupid drunken video shook me to my core. It made me feel dirty and wrong as if I'd had an affair but worse. It's worse because he made that video on a drunken whim, but it was eerily prophetic. He died a few months later, and there I was just fifteen months later, in the arms of his perceived enemy." She sniffled again and spoke before I could defend my own position. "It hurts too much right now. I might feel different later on but right now, it's all still too raw." She sniffled. "I still wear his socks at night when my feet are cold. I still sometimes forget he's gone and when the phone rings, I think it's him. It's all crazy but completely normal in stages of grief, but I moved too fast on this. I don't expect you
to understand. And I know you're hurting." She pushed her fist against her chest. "I've got an angry knot right here. I don't expect relief anytime soon."

  Her words streamed from her amazing lips and straight into my heart. This was over before it even started. Deep down, I knew the whole thing was tenuous at best, but I hadn't expected it to fray so quickly and so completely. The sting was going to be sharp and intense for a long time.

  "I'm trying to look at all of this from your point of view, Layla. I see it but it's hard to absorb. It's hard because I want to be with you so fucking badly that I feel like a piece of me is gone. I won't be whole again anytime soon."

  "I know." Her face dropped again. I could see tears glisten on the ends of her long, dark lashes. "I feel the same way."

  Sitting there across from her, so close that I could smell her shampoo, was making my head spin. I stood up from the chair. "I'm going to eat something and then go out and muck. Can I get you anything?" My voice sounded cold, but there wasn't anything I could do. It was hitting me like a cement block. I was working hard to keep my emotions in check.

  She sensed the coldness, and her bottom lip quivered for a second. "No, I'm good. I've got a book. I think I'll just sit out on your mom's swing and read. Unless you need help with the animals. I've never mucked, but I'm sure I can shovel shit with the best of them." Her attempt at humor, though badly timed, helped soften the tension in the air.

  "Thanks but I think I'll keep the shit all to myself this morning. Are you sure you wouldn't like an egg? They're fresh. My mom's going to ask why there's so much food left."

  She crossed her arms around herself even though the kitchen was warm. "You know, I think an egg might be good. My stomach is a little empty."

  I nodded and turned to the refrigerator. Something occurred to me as I reached in to pluck out some eggs. I closed the fridge and looked at Layla. "I hope you don't mind me asking this, but if my parents happen to come early, can we, you know, pretend that we're still a couple. They are so crazy about you, they'd be sorely disappointed. That way I can tell them sometime down the road." Everything I was saying and asking was driving the stake deeper into my chest, but it was true. They would be heartbroken to know that Layla and I were no longer dating.