by ANDREA SMITH
He was starting to stumble over his words. That was kind of cute; kind of Clint.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I laughed. “What time?”
“I’m going to clean up and grab a sandwich. Be back by around seven?”
“That works for me,” I replied. “Thanks, Clint. See you in a bit.”
Clint looked pleased as he loped off of my porch and headed toward his cottage. I shut the wooden door for the sake of privacy and went back to finish up in the bathroom. .
My eyes were light brown, ‘tawny’ they called it. I didn’t wear a lot of eye make-up, but tonight for some reason, I wanted to look more sophisticated. I applied mascara carefully to my upper and lower lashes, drawing them out to their full length. I plucked a few errant eyebrow hairs to keep the brow line slightly arched, put some lip gloss on my lips.
I decided to wear a short jean skirt and a white, cotton tee shirt that has a pair of lips outlined in red on the front, with the words printed, ‘Save the drama for your mama,’ inside the lips. I saw Rachel wear the same shirt on an old episode of ‘Friends.’ I knew I wanted one. I had found it on E-Bay and ordered it.
Some of my classmates back in junior high used to say I resembled Rachel. I didn’t see it so much. I had light brown eyes, not blue like hers although I saw some resemblance to her facial features. I was built similar to her but where was my Brad Pitt?
Oh that's right - he had moved on.
I plaited my hair back into a french braid. My hair was still damp and it was cooler on my neck. I put on a small pair of silver hoop earrings, my silver bracelet and my most comfortable sandals. I glanced at the clock on my microwave and saw that it was about ten minutes until seven.
(Shit. I should really eat something before I go.)
I opened the tiny fridge and grabbed a handful of seedless grapes, munching on them for the time being. I ate no lunch today because of the heat. This would hold me over for awhile.
I checked my cell phone to see if there were any messages or missed calls. Not a thing.
Where was Mom?
There was a knock on my front door. I hurried up and finished off the grapes, straightening my really short jean skirt, trying like hell to make it cover more than it was supposed to cover, opening my door to a smiling Clint.
CHAPTER THREE
“Wow!” Clint’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he gave me the once-over. You’ve got some legs on you, babe,” he winked at me playfully.
“Stop,” I laughed. “This skirt must’ve shrunk. Should I put something else on?”
“No way in hell,” he said “I can hardly wait to see Jenna’s face when she gets a look at you,” he followed this with a loud cat whistle.
I blushed of course. I just couldn’t picture Clint thinking of me like that. He was more like a big brother to me.
When Clint and I got down to the last cottage before the woods, the party was well under way. I think Luke and Rodney had been partying since they got off work. There were lawn chairs set up around in the side yard, and a fire pit ready to go as soon as the sun went down. There was a keg on ice, and a couple of ice chests sitting side-by-side which revealed other adult beverages.
I spotted Ray sitting on a log, with his girlfriend Denise. I had met Denise earlier in the week when Ray brought her into the stables as I was preparing to leave. Denise was in her forties and a local. She had very soft features, wispy dark blond hair and a full figure. She was very well groomed, maybe a result of her working as a beautician at a salon she owned in town. She seemed warm and friendly. I really liked her.
“Hey Denise,” I greeted, glad that she was here. She was so nice and easy to talk to unlike Jenna who had an extremely catty nature.
“Hey, sweetie,” she called out. “Well look at you, girl! You are finally showing off that cute build, and what a build!”
“Thanks, Denise."
“Honey, I best not find out you are dressing like that at work. I like you and if you started turning my man’s head, well, I can’t be responsible for what I might do!”
I laughed knowing quite well that nobody could distract Ray from Denise. It was obvious that he was crazy about her.
Ray chuckled as he pulled Denise closer to him and gave her a swift kiss on the mouth.
“You know Tylar’s like one of my own, Neecie,” (his pet name for her). “You are all the woman I can handle.”
“You best remember that, stud,” she replied, wiping her own lipstick off of his mouth and squeezing his chin.
Clint was talking with Luke and Rodney over by the keg. He returned offering me a wine cooler. I was not a drinker. I had relatively little experience with alcohol.
“I thought maybe you would prefer this to a beer,” he said, twisting the cap off and handing it to me.
"Thank you, Clint,” I replied, accepting the cold bottle.
I tipped it to my lips and because I was parched, drank the whole thing down at once.
“Easy, girl,” Clint chuckled. “I know it’s not whiskey, but if you don’t drink alcohol very often, anything can have a kick to it.”
“Tasted like punch to me, Clint,” I remarked. “May I have another?”
I smiled coquettishly up at him. He shook his head, making his way over to the ice chest, grabbing another wine cooler. He twisted the cap off, handing me the ice cold bottle, with a stern comment.
“Slower this time, and I mean it, okay?”
“Okay,” I acquiesced, “I was just thirsty before, I’ll sip it slowly like a good girl.”
“See that you do,” he admonished.
I raised the bottle to my lips as if in slow motion, tipping it slowly toward my mouth.
“Smart ass,” he laughed.
He raised his bottle of Bud and took a lengthy swallow. Just then the shrill voice of Jenna filled the air. I quickly downed half of the wine cooler, grateful that Clint had turned to watch her approach us.
“Well, well, well, what’s goin on with you two, huh? Looking awful cozy there like two snug bugs in a rug. Tylar, hey girl, look at you! I really like your skirt. Generally short girls can’t pull that off.”
Jenna was probably three inches taller than me. I was 5’4”and she was no more than 5’7” at best. I did not consider myself short. She was just being her normal catty self.
Clint shifted uneasily beside me.
"You here alone?" I asked.
"Yeah right."
As if on cue Jenna looked over to where a tall, black-haired man that looked as if he may have had some American Indian heritage, came down over the hill towards her. He was lean, nice-looking, and obviously fond of tats. He had a white wife-beater shirt on which displayed his dark, muscular frame, tight black jeans, and pointy boots. He was at least 6’4”, with dark, almost black eyes, and long sideburns.
“There you are darling,” Jenna squealed. “I was beginning to think you got lost.”
She grabbed his tanned arm and pulled it close. It was practically lying across her breasts as she raised it so that it looped over her shoulders. He seemed a bit embarrassed.
“I want y’all to meet my friend, Stuart. Stuart, this is Clint, and this is Tylar,” she said, throwing her free arm out as if displaying prizes on a game show.
Stuart nodded to each of us, and finally noticed that Clint had his right hand extended for a hand shake. Stuart reluctantly took it as if he wasn’t used to being introduced to anyone. I gave him a quick wave and a “hey.” He nodded in return.
“Baby,” Jenna gushed, “Why don’t you go on over there and get us both a couple of beers, okay? Draft is fine.” Stuart nodded, again, and went off to do as instructed.
“Is he not a gorgeous god?” she asked, whether to me or Clint, I wasn’t sure.
“Uh, yeah, quite the package, Jenna,” I responded, trying to sound sincere.
“He manages the best body shop in town, yeah, I know, and what am I doing with a guy with so little aspirations – but I gotta tell you, what that man can
do with his tongue and with his dick, well, I know you wouldn’t understand, Tylar.”
I blushed but then I was pissed. How did she fathom to guess what I knew or what I did not know? I started to interrupt her but thought better of it. Instead, I drained the rest of my wine cooler, turned and sweetly asked Clint if he would get me another one. Clint raised an eyebrow shook his head again and was off.
“So, Jenna, why do you think that I wouldn’t understand your attraction to such a fine specimen of a man, lover, whatever?”
I tried to pull flippant off, but I hiccupped at the end which took some of the sting out of it.
“Well, honey, it’s just that you are still kinda young, you know? I just think you may not have had the experience that some of the others have. You see, Tylar, in a few years you will see that there are men you fuck, and then there are men you marry. Generally, the two types don’t intermix.”
“Is that right?” I asked. “Well, does that mean you marry someone that you don’t like fucking?” I hiccupped again.
(Damn.)
“Not at all, hon. You see, you have to understand that the guys you meet and well, you will know within the first five or ten minutes that while they might be hot, there is
absolutely no future with them in the scheme of things. These guys are the guys that you ‘sport fuck.’ You have no pretenses, it is just plain old sport fucking. And you enjoy it as long as you need to. But the bottom line is that you do not
quit the pursuit of the guy you want to land as a 'keeper."
Stuart appeared with two large plastic glasses brimming with the draft beer.
“Thanks, baby,” she crooned, accepting one and taking a large swallow of the foamy beer.
I contemplated what she had said for a moment, looking over at her as she turned to Stuart, and licked his ear.
Jenna was wearing a dark green tank top that evidently had a built-in push-up bra and light khaki shorts. She was very tanned. I remembered her saying that she went tanning during the winter because she liked being tanned all year round. Her blond hair was pulled up in a high ponytail and her eyes were made up as if she was going to the theatre.
There was something about Jenna that appealed to men who had a penchant for taking a walk on the “wild side.” She probably rocked their world. I was envious of her in a way.
Clint returned with my third wine cooler.
“Hey,” Clint said, “They’re roasting some hot dogs over there on the grill. I know I grabbed a sandwich earlier, but I wasn’t sure if you had eaten anything before I stopped
by. Are you hungry?”
Clint was worried that I would get plastered and perhaps show myself. I hiccupped again, giving him a wide smile.
“Lead the way couldn’t hurt to eat.”
I saw him visibly relax as we walked over to where Luke was rolling hot dogs around on the grill, making sure that all sides were equally charred. I grabbed a bun out of the bag and a paper plate.
“Hey Tylar,” Luke grinned “Having fun, girl?”
“Luke,” I started, and then hiccupped yet again. I giggled, “This is the best damned party I’ve been to in a very, very, very long time!”
“Glad to hear it little lady,” he responded. “Hold your bun out so I can put the weenie in it.”
This brought a fresh fit of giggles from me, and I doubled over laughing. Clint was right there, grabbing my paper plate and the bun out of my fingers.
“I got it, I got it, sweetie, go sit down.”
He managed to fill my plate with potato chips, baked beans, and mustard relish on my hot dog. Just the way I liked it. He brought it over to me where I was finishing off my wine cooler.
“Thank you, Clint,” I gushed. “Would you mind terribly fetching me another cooler?”
“Not until you eat,” he said firmly.
The tone of his voice told me that he was not a force to be reckoned with so I took a big bite out of the hotdog, and groaned at how good it tasted. I devoured the hot dog in a couple of minutes, and then started in on the baked beans. Clint finally relented, seeing that I was putting food into my system, and grabbed another wine cooler for me. I couldn’t finish the whole plate, but was definitely feeling the buzz subside.
Throughout the evening we mingled with the others. Rodney brought his acoustic guitar out and played some tunes.
Jenna and Stuart had gone walking in the woods. They returned about an hour later. I chuckled as I noticed that Jenna’s hair was a bit disheveled and there were some twigs and pieces of dried leaves dangling from her ponytail.
We toasted some marshmallows over the fire pit, and Luke tried to freak us (or maybe just me) out with some urban legend horror stories, swearing that they were true
and happened in these very woods. Yeah, right. We had that same “hook man” in Kentucky, too.
It was going on eleven o’clock when Jenna got the idea of going skinny dipping in the pool up near the Sinclair house. We were allowed to use the pool, there was no problem with that, but I was not about to skinny dip.
“Whoa, wait a second,” Clint said before anyone had taken leave.
“I enjoy a night-time swim as much as the next person, but hey, it is getting late and if we get too loud we are liable to wake up the Sinclair’s. I for one appreciate my job here.”
“Not to worry, Clint,” Jenna chimed, “I have checked the situation out. Mr. & Mrs. Sinclair are over in Europe. They have their prodigal son, the lawyer, checking up on things while they are gone. I saw him leave in his hot little sports car all decked out in a tux a couple hours ago. Pretty sure with his looks he’ll be getting laid somewhere in town, so you see no worries!”
“Even so,” Clint continued. “There isn’t going to be any skinny dipping. He could be staying at the house since his law practice is in Atlanta, and no matter what you may
think about him, he is not someone that any of us should tangle with. He is a Sinclair. We’re hired help."
“Oh, waah, Clint,” Jenna smarted back, turning her back to him. “Okay, everyone grab your suits and see you in the pool!” she hollered.
I looked at Clint. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, ‘whatever.’ The pool was a pretty far trek, but Clint said he would wait on me to change, and then walk me down. I changed into my red two-piece suit. I had bought it before summer break and it was flattering. I grabbed a towel, picked up my tee shirt and shrugged it back on over my suit, and slipped my flip-flops on. I still had my unopened wine cooler from the party, so I twisted the top off, drinking about half of it before I heard Clint’s knock.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Lead the way,” I said.
Everyone was already there when we arrived. Already, Luke, Rodney, and Stuart were passing Jenna around in the water, throwing her from one to another as she giggled and shrieked with delight. Ray and Denise had left to go back to Denise’s apartment in town for the night.
“Shhh, you guys, keep it down,” Clint warned, looking over towards the darkened mansion. “I meant what I said earlier. I’m not looking to get fired.”
He took off his tee shirt and slipped into the water at the shallow end of the pool.
“You coming in Tylar?” he asked.
I finished off my wine cooler, kicked off my flip-flops and pulled my tee shirt off. I went down to where he was wading. I was not a swimmer. I had no clue as to what the maximum depth of the pool was at the other end. There was a diving board, so I figured it had to be eight to ten feet deep minimum there.
Jenna was on Stuart’s shoulders and wanted to play a game in the water to see who could knock who off someone’s shoulders. Neely arrived at the pool and I realized that this was the first time I had seen her all evening. That was Neely though; she tended to blend into the background. She dived into the pool. Luke scooped her up, and turned to Clint.
“C’mon, Clint, get Tylar up there on your shoulders and let’s see which chick is the strongest. Course, it’s up to the guys to h
old on tight to their legs, which shouldn’t be a
problem for you I guess,” he snickered.
Clint turned and looked at me questioningly.
“Do you want to play?”
“I’m game,” I answered, feeling a resurgence of nerve since the last wine cooler.
I scrambled up onto Clint’s broad shoulders. He made his way to the middle of the pool. Rodney was appointed line judge so we waited for him to give us the signal to start. I noticed Jenna leaning in and whispering something to Neely. Neely then shifted her face down and whispered something into Luke’s ear. He chuckled and nodded.
(Hmm... what’s that about?)
Clint and I approached the group in the middle of the pool. The depth here was about five or five and a half feet by my estimate.
“Ready, set, go!” Rodney yelled, backing out of the way.
Immediately both Luke and Stuart made their way quickly over to Clint and me. Jenna and Neely were splashing me to the point that I was blinded by the water in my eyes; I
squeezed them shut. The chlorine stung like hell. I was flailing my arms about wildly hoping to make contact with one of the girls to get them to back off.
I knew that we were in deeper water now. I could feel the water touching my behind, which meant Clint’s face had to be partially submerged.
(Holy shit!)
I was hoping he could still hear; I was screaming at him to get me out. My hands desperately located his head and I realized that he had to bob up and down in order to breathe.
(Sweet Jesus!)
Just then Neely and Jenna launched a pre-emptive strike. They had maneuvered themselves into a position where they were in the more shallow water. Clint and I were on the down slope to the diving area. As if in sync, Jenna went underwater and grabbed my right foot, while Neely went under and grabbed my left foot. In unison, they pushed up with all their force and launched me off of Clint’s back.
I went airborne out of the water. I briefly saw the girls converge on Clint, laughing and dunking him so that he could offer no assistance to me. It was if I was watching the
whole thing in slow motion. I felt myself sailing through the air backwards. I saw the look of horror on the faces of Luke and Rodney as the back of my head slammed into something