by P. Dangelico
“That’s pretty cool.”
A smile spreads across my face. I really like this kid. “We can talk on the drive back.”
After Darby lends me his truck and I put Callie’s school in the GPS, we hit the road. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you, but I don’t really get along with my mother.”
“Dad told me,” she murmurs, staring out the window while her hands play with the cellphone in her lap. “He said Athena wasn’t the best mom. He said she left you with your dad and took off.”
And he still managed to fall in love with her? What does she do to these men? Matthias has to be a glutton for punishment.
“What about your mom?” I gently prod.
“She died. Car accident when we were living in Senegal.”
“I’m really sorry.”
We ride in silence for a while. Something about this kid reminds me of me at her age, a girl longing to connect.
“Hey, Callie?”
“Yeah.”
“Just because I don’t see Athena much doesn’t mean we can’t see each other. Your school is only a thirty minute drive.” She turns in her seat to look at me. “Would you want to come and hang out some time? Maybe you can help me take care of the animals?”
Her full lips lift. “We had goats when we were living in Senegal. They would eat my mother’s flowers. She’d get so mad.” The memory makes her smile.
“Is that a yes?”
She nods, the smile still in place.
“Put my number in your cellphone,” I tell her and rattle off the number. She does as she’s told and sends me a text. It’s an emoji of two girls holding hands.
Chapter 18
“I’m getting tired of this,” I hear him gripe as he approaches. He’s mad and he wants me to know it.
I’m behind the barn in the hay shed pulling a bale out to throw to the horses in the big pasture. The rain lasted for all of a day and the pasture’s dry brush is not suitable for grazing. Hay is expensive, but the good news is that our Mother Goose accounts have exploded with new followers lately––something I can’t quite understand––and more money is coming in for the animals’ care.
“I’m too old to be sneaking around like a teenage Romeo.”
Apparently Shane is tired of sneaking around. For some reason, he feels that at almost thirty-seven he has the right to sex on tap whenever he feels like having it and circumstances are chafing his freedoms.
“Call the ACLU,” I tell him while I load the hay on the Polaris. “Tell them your civil liberties are being infringed.”
We have yet to discuss where this is going after Aidan’s time is up, so forgive me if I’m in no rush to accommodate him either. If I’m getting dumped like an unwanted pet in two weeks, I would like less people to know about it.
Hands on his hips, he shakes his head at me and narrows his eyes, “Such a wise ass.” I make a big dramatic show of loading the bale, grunting out loud. Frowning, Shane pushes me aside and loads it for me. A sucker born every day.
Shane gets in the driver seat and holds out his hand. “Keys.”
“I thought you said you were on a deadline?” I remind him while I hand him the keys and climb into the passenger seat. “I am,” is all he says, as if this should be obvious. He turns the ignition on and we take off to feed the horses.
“Tell Mona that I found a truck to replace hers and we’re going to check it out tomorrow. I need to go to Malibu and I want you to come with me.”
“Do you ever get tired of bossing me around?”
The Santa Anas kick up and a hot gust almost blows my straw hat away. He parks the Polaris along the gate of the pasture. Turning in his seat, he rakes his eyes over me.
“Were you tired of it the other night when I had my hands on your throat and my dick buried inside of you while I acted out scenes from your favorite book?”
My ears get red hot. “When you put it like that…”
Score tally… Hughes: 1 Me: 0.
I’m having a hard time believing wily Mona bought the story about the pickup truck. The one Shane and I are supposedly going to check out in Tarzana. But Mona and I have been operating under a “don’t ask don’t tell” policy lately and it suits me just fine.
The ride down Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu in the Cobra is glorious. I’ve almost forgotten how nice it is to feel moisture on my skin. Savanah Conley comes on the radio, singing Never Wanna Be In Love, and I turn up the volume. The song is downright prophetic.
“Never wanna be in love,” I sing along quietly.
“But I wanna be with you ’cause
Never wanna be in love
But look at you, look at you
You saw right through me
I tried to hide
Turn my eyes from you
I’m about to lead a lonely life
But I’d change my mind for you
I never wanna be in love
I never wanna be in love
But I’d change my mind for you
I never wanna be in love
I never wanna be in love
But I’d change my mind
I’m my only enemy
Just passing time to get through
You gotta be the one to choose
'Cause I can’t be, I can’t be
You saw right through me
I tried to hide
Turn my eyes from you
I’m about to lead a lonely life
But I’d change my mind for you…”
Shane turns to watch me. I can feel his scrutiny on the side of my face. But he doesn’t say anything.
We stop at Malibu Farm Restaurant and Shane tells me to wait in the car. He must’ve called ahead because he comes out minutes later carrying two big bags filled with takeout boxes. He hands them to me and we head to his trailer on the bluff. If I didn’t know any better, I would think this was a date.
He parks and I walk to the edge and take in the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the coastline.
“This place is magic,” I say, closing my eyes and letting the wind blow my hair back.
“Can you grab the plates and utensils?” he asks while he pulls the takeout out of the bags.
After we set up the small card table outside for lunch, we kick back in the lawn chairs and destroy the assortment of food Shane ordered. Watching the sun sink in the distance, I’m reminded how truly lucky I am.
“Mona makes us eat dinner on the patio almost every night so we can watch the sunset. And almost every time she says it’s her favorite one… She’s so brave about losing her eyesight.” It brings a smile to my lips.
“The legend of Mona Harris will live on long after she does. She’s a character in my next book.”
My head whips around. “Are you kidding?”
“No,” he says casually, and rubs the back of his neck. “So are you.”
His hooded eyes fall on my mouth and a soft smile spreads on his face. He gets up and offers me his hand. “Let’s clean up.”
“Aren’t we having dessert?” I’m sort of bummed about dessert, but excited about being a character. Shane walks into the trailer holding a bag of trash. “You better make me look good in your book!”
He pokes his head back out. “You’ll have to read it when it comes out.”
I grab the plates and silverware and wash them in the sink while he wraps up the leftovers and sticks them in the refrigerator. It’s so natural and domestic of us, a small glimpse into how wonderful our life could be.
I dry my hands on a towel and turn to find him watching me. He’s wearing another one of his fertility outfits: black t-shirt, softly worn jeans, and Gucci driving moccasins. He crosses his arms and his expression turns serious. “You wanna talk?”
“Wow,” I say, feeling intimidated again, my pulse racing with dread and my palms sweating. I brush them on my blue jeans. I’ve been wanting this for the past week, and now that it’s here, I don’t know what to say. “Way to make me feel comfortable in y
our home.”
He closes the distance between us and places his hands on my waist. He drops a quick kiss on my lips, picks me up, and deposits me on the counter. Standing between my legs, he nuzzles the delicate skin on my throat with his nose and mouth, leaving what will surely be scruff burn on my neck.
“My home is your home.” He says it so quietly I almost don’t catch it. I did catch though. I definitely caught it. Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him. Talking is going to have to wait.
I peel his shirt over his head and the sight of his happy trail has me so worked up, I slide off the counter and drop to my knees. I unbutton his jeans slowly and yank on the waistband until his erection springs free. Stroking him with my hand, I play with his balls and glance up. Shane’s head is thrown back in sheer ecstasy, his fingers grasping for purchase onto the counters and cabinets.
A man’s body is a walking contradiction. Soft and hard. Cool and hot. So strong and yet so fragile. My lips wrap around the head of his erection. I take him deep into my mouth until he groans and comes and stumbles back.
And when I’m done, after I stand and wipe my mouth, and his eyes flutter open, I say, “Dessert was on me.”
Twenty minutes later, both of us naked and in bed, I’m draped over his chest, busy gliding my fingertips through his hair and around his dark, little nipples. He pulls the covers over us higher. It’s September and there’s a bite to the air in late afternoon.
Love is growing inside of me at an alarming rate. If this keeps up, I’ll be consumed by it by day’s end. I roll onto my back and he follows, pushing my legs apart and rubbing himself against me until he’s rock hard.
The pain over my heart keeps reminding me to tell him that I love him. It’s an alien baby trying to rip and claw its way out through my sternum. There’s gonna be blood everywhere, which will probably end with my demise.
He looks at me funny. “Are you feeling alright?”
“An alien baby if trying to split me in two.”
He’s not sure whether I’m joking or certifiably insane. I’m a little of both at the moment. “Did you eat too much?”
“No.”
“You’re the strangest girl I’ve ever met.” The sweetest smile spreads on his face.
I sigh. “Is that a good thing?”
“It’s a great thing.”
If I didn’t love him before, this sealed my fate.
“We don’t have any condoms left. What do you plan to do with that phallus between your legs?” Watching me closely, he rolls his hips and pushes the bare head of his erection inside of me. I shake my head. “Were not raw-dogging it, not even in Vegas.”
He starts laughing and I almost faint from the sight of all his perfect white teeth. Shane Hughes laughs?
“Shane?” a woman calls out. She sounds close––close enough to be right outside the trailer. Shane immediately scowls and jumps out of bed, his dick so hard it almost hits the side of the wall.
“Shane!” she hollers.
“I’m coming out. Stay where you are.” In his defense, he does not sound happy to see her, his expression alone would have me running for cover.
“Who is it?” I whisper. Why am I the one whispering? I don’t know. I’m not the intruder here.
“Kaya,” he says without sparing me a glance. This hurts me. The pressure on my sternum gets worse. He shoves on his jeans one leg at a time, forgoing the underwear, and walks out.
My stomach drops. I scramble out of bed to get dressed. In the meantime, Shane walks out in nothing but his jeans with his fly open and his dick practically sticking out.
It bothers me that she gets to see him like that. It bothers me that she knows him that way too. The whole situation bothers me.
“What are you doing here?” I hear him snap.
Tip-toeing closer to the door, I lean in to eavesdrop. Even though it’s bad manners, I’m not about to miss out on what happens next.
“Joyce called me when she saw the Cobra drive up the street. I really think we should talk––”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Where’s your shirt?” she asks, like she has the right to know. And to think I felt sorry for her when she was crying. “Is somebody here with you?”
“Are you kidding me right now? That’s none of your business, Kaya. We’re divorced,” he says, stressing the word. “You remember the agreement, right? You got the house in Laguna and the apartment in New York and I got to tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“Your language is atrocious.”
“You don’t have to put up with it. In fact, I’m asking you nicely to leave.”
He sounds so stressed I want to hold him and tell him it’s going to be alright. Shane handles adversity so well I sometimes forget he’s still hurting from the betrayal. You can’t just flip a switch, like he once told me. It makes me think of my father and how long he’s held onto his feeling for my mother. God, I hope that’s not what’s in store for him.
There’s a pause and then I think I hear feminine tears falling. “I just… I just wish we could go to counseling. I think if we did that, had we done it earlier, none of this would’ve happened.”
“We’ve been over this a hundred times. We don’t love each other anymore.”
“I still love you.”
“No, you don’t. And I don’t love you. And quite frankly––and I am not saying this to hurt you––I don’t think we ever really loved each other.”
Okay, so I shouldn’t feel good about that. But like… I do.
“You don’t mean that,” she continues.
“I do. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”
“Let’s talk about this inside,” she keeps pressing.
“No.”
“Are you seeing someone? Is that why you won’t go to counseling? I can be patient, Shane. Have your fun. I get that you want… I don’t know… revenge?”
My God, this woman is persistent.
“No, I’m not seeing anyone else. And no, I don’t want revenge. I don’t want to be with you. Do you understand? I don’t love you. I don’t think of you anymore, Kaya. Not ever.”
If he had taken a sledgehammer to my heart, it would’ve hurt less.
“You’re so fucking cruel. This is why I slept with Aidan. Because you’re mean and he understood that better than anyone.”
I have to put a stop to this before she destroys all the hard work Aidan and Shane have done to repair their relationship. To that end, I pat my hair down and make sure my t-shirt is tucked and tidy.
“Mr. Hughes? I’m done cleaning.” I say, stepping out of the trailer blank-faced. My gaze darts between the two beautiful high-fliers standing a few feet away, facing off. They look like a matched set.
Kaya examines me like I’m a spider she caught in her home. Kaya’s a red fox; beautiful and cunning, opportunistic. She’s wild like Shane. Not domesticated. If you try to domesticate her, you’ll come home to find it destroyed.
I’m pretty sure she doesn’t buy my little act, but it doesn’t matter. It’s an excuse to distract her and get us out of here.
“I’ll get my shoes and drive you home,” Shane mutters.
With an expression of disgust, Kaya shakes her head and opens the door to her new red Porsche Cayenne. “Fucking the housekeeper, Shane? Really?”
She gets in and starts the engine. Then she floors it in reverse. We have to jump out of the way to avoid being covered in dirt.
Once the taillights fade, I let my shoulders drop and take a deep, painful breath. “Take me home.”
If this was a date, it sucked.
“Can you say something?”
I turn the volume up on the radio and he turns it off. He looks worried. Well, tough turds. I’m devastated. It’s musical chairs all over again and I’m the odd man out.
Things I learned today: I am much dumber that I estimated. I’m like… in the top percentile of dumb people. I keep making the same mistake over and over.
&n
bsp; He taps the steering wheel with his thumbs. A nervous tick. Does anyone care? Not me.
“If I told her we were seeing each other, she’d never leave me alone. She doesn’t care about me, Blue. She’s only interested in accumulating people and things. It’s a game to her. Once she knows she has you, she loses interest.”
All that may be true, but it still doesn’t make me feel better. It doesn’t make me feel valued and important to him. I’m still a third-class citizen.
“Blue…” Reaching over, he tries to take my hand and I rip it away.
“Please don’t.” I fold my hands on my lap.
We drive the rest of the way home in silence, the tension filling every nook and cranny in the car. By the time he parks in front of the guesthouse, night has fallen. The lights are on in Aidan’s trailer and the farmhouse.
This is where I belong. This is where I feel safe. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’re leaving soon anyway and I belong here. Despite what you may have heard, love does not in fact conquer all.”
I push the car door open and jump out.
“Blue, stop. I’m sorry.”
I walk away and he gives chase––not that I want him to. Especially not where other people can hear us.
“Stop,” he says in a regular volume and grabs my bicep.
“Keep your voice down,” I hiss.
“Why? Because you don’t want anyone knowing we’re together?”
“Because I don’t want to be humiliated in font of everyone I know when you throw me over, that’s why!” I hiss back.
He shakes his head, mouth set in a grim line. Holding on, he drags me to the guesthouse. I don’t bother fighting. What’s the point? He’s so much stronger.
Once we’re inside, he locks the front door and walks away, combing his fingers through his hair. “Let me go, Shane. You’ve had your fun.” He turns to glare at me. “Fine, we’ve had our fun. But it’s over. I can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what? What’s so bad about what’s going on between us? I’ve never felt better about a relationship in my life.”
Tears of frustration well up. He’s so clueless. So cavalier about us. “I can’t do it anymore, okay? I just can’t.”