All My Life

by Prescott Lane

  “No, Dad, I don’t need anything. I’m waiting until at least I’m out of college.”

  “Thank fuck!”

  “Daddy!” she scolds. “I just figure if I’m going to have sex, then I need to be able to deal with the consequences of having sex. Like having a baby. I’ll be ready to have sex when I’m ready to take care of a child, if by some chance I end up pregnant. So when I’m out of school and stuff.”

  I’d prefer she say never or not until she’s married, but I’ll take after college. That gives me four more years. Still, I know her logic is going to go right out the window when hormones come into play. “So what does this have to do with your mother?”

  “I get jealous of the other girls sometimes. They talk about their moms, or complain about them, and I don’t know . . . It doesn’t usually bother me.”

  “But sometimes it does,” I say, squeezing her tighter.

  *

  A trip to the emergency room, a talk about birth control, a nosy mail carrier plus working all day—add those up to equal one long damn day. Mia and the rest of my employees went home already, but I stayed to get payroll and some other paperwork done. Turning off the lights, I step outside and lock the door.

  “So glad I caught you,” I hear the mayor say behind me.

  Not bothering to turn around, I say, “Closed for the day.”

  “I know, I know,” he says. I turn around and see him with a pretty blonde by his side. “I met this poor gal earlier today. She came all the way here to meet you, but her car broke down. So she never got a chance to . . .”

  “Garrett,” I say, reaching my hand out to shake hers. This girl looks like she’s closer to Mia’s age than mine, and the mayor looks like he’s damn proud of himself. I’m not the least bit sorry to disappoint him. This whole thing is ridiculous.

  “We need to get together and talk about Eden Valley’s Fourth at the Falls,” he says. “I’m thinking the town would like to hire you to build some sort of gazebo or pavilion for the festival.”

  “Great,” I say, my eyes going right over his shoulder to the diner across the square, my mind on the woman inside. The woman I haven’t been able to get off my mind. I didn’t see this coming. She is the one woman I didn’t see coming, and God knows, there have been a lot of women coming into my life lately.

  But why now? After all these years? I’ve literally seen Devlyn almost every day of my life, so why now am I thinking about her as someone other than a friend? It’s true, I’ve had a strict policy about not dating women from Eden Valley, not that the dating pool is extensive here.

  Devlyn’s been single on and off, mostly off, so why haven’t I ever gone there? I mean, she’s hot as hell. It’s not like I didn’t notice that. Why her? Why now?

  The mayor urges the young woman forward. “Maybe you should go to the Falls . . .”

  There’s only one place I want to go. It’s not to the Falls. It’s not home. I’ve got to see Devlyn and figure out if last night was just a fluke or something more. “I’ve got something I need to do, but you go on ahead,” I say then nod to the woman. “It was nice to meet you.”

  I hear the mayor fumbling for something to say, apologizing for my behavior, but I just keep walking. It’s only a few feet to the diner. Is my dad right? Could the woman for me have really been just steps away all these years?

  I’ve balked at Mia’s silly dating experiment, but maybe in a weird way, it’s worked. Made me realize what’s right in front of me.

  Unfortunately, I’m not going to find out tonight. She’s not here. There’s only a waitress closing up. “Did Devlyn head home already?” I ask.

  “No,” she says. “She went out of town for a few days.”

  “Where?” I ask, hoping it’s not to make up with that Scott. Maybe she went to see her parents, needing some downtime. Her parents retired from the diner several years ago and moved to the coast, but Devlyn didn’t mention a visit. Not that she tells me her every move.

  “To see Scott,” the waitress says. “Think they are having problems.”

  Well, shit! I step back out onto the sidewalk, pulling out my phone. What would I say if I called? A warm summer breeze blows through the streets. The sun is low in the sky, but the heat still lingers. Even in the dead of night, the heat is there, buried under the shadows, waiting for its chance to scorch our skin. Heat like that you can’t escape from.

  There’s a warmth to Devlyn. Always has been, even when we were kids. I always thought that was it—a friendly warmth. I wrack my brain wondering again why now, after all these years? Is it that Mia’s older? Is it that her dating experiment worked? Is it that I’m more settled? Is it . . . In the end, it doesn’t matter why. It only matters that somehow things are different.

  Last night, the heat was kicked up a notch or a hundred. Did she feel it, too? Is that why she left town? Did it scare the piss out of her? Or maybe she doesn’t feel the same way? Or maybe she’s gone to fix things with Scott? No phone call is going to answer those questions. So instead, I send Devlyn a simple text.

  You’re missed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  DEVLYN

  “Don’t answer it,” my date said, kissing my neck, trying to move his hand up my shirt as the phone rang.

  Maybe if he’d been a better kisser, I would’ve let it ring, but he wasn’t that great. I shoved him away. “What if it’s an emergency?”

  I was a single twenty-something, and it was close to midnight. The only guy who would call me for a booty call was already in my house, so no one should be calling me. I picked up the phone.

  “Holy fuck!”

  “Garrett, is that you?” I asked.

  “Who is Garrett?” my date asked.

  I waved my hand at him. “Shit, now I’m bleeding.”

  “You’re bleeding?” I cried, jumping to my feet, straightening my clothes, and grabbing my purse and keys. He was always messing around with that old motorcycle of his. The thing probably decided to finally fight back.

  “My finger,” Garrett said. “If I get blood on the satin of these pointe shoes, I swear to God . . .”

  “What?”

  “These things were over a hundred bucks,” he barked. “They should come finished. I mean, why do I have to sew in elastics and straps?”

  “So you’re not bleeding to death?” I asked, feeling my chest relax.

  “No, but I’m about to murder the asshole who invented these things. You used to dance, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Could you just walk me through how to sew . . .” he begged. “Mia needs them for tomorrow. I know it’s late. You weren’t sleeping, were you?”

  I looked at my date, the rock-hard erection in his pants. Too bad, I wasn’t feeling the same way. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll come over.”

  It took me twenty to get to Garrett’s doorstep, because my jerk date couldn’t even dump me quickly. Totally surprising, since he did everything else too quickly, if you know what I mean.

  Garrett opened the door, sucking on his finger. Two fingers already had Band-Aids on them. What the hell was the man doing? It’s a sewing needle, not a hatchet. His eyes scanned my body. I hadn’t changed out of my date clothes, so my skirt was short, my heels were high, but everything else was covered up. You can’t give everything away.

  “I was on a date,” I said.

  “You’re dating someone?” he asked.

  “Not anymore,” I said with attitude.

  He cocked a smile. “Must not have been that great of a date if you offered to come over here.”

  He had me there. I rolled my eyes. “Where’s the pointe shoe emergency?”

  He held his arm open for me to come in, his entire kitchen table littered with needles, thread, thimbles. No way he knew what half that stuff was used for. I kicked my heels off and sat down, grabbing a ballet shoe. “Come on,” I ordered. “Sit down. I’ll do one, and you’ll do one.”

  He looked at me with puppy dog eyes. He could give
me that look until the cows came home, but no way was I going to do both. I was annoyed all of a sudden, and his pleas for help were getting no more sympathy from me.

  He sat down next to me, pulling his chair close enough that he could look over my shoulder. God, he smelled great, like a man should—rugged and earthy. I threaded both our needles with a pale pink thread then handed him one. His fingers grazed mine as he took it. “I’m sorry about your date. I never intended for you to . . .”

  “It’s okay,” I said, turning my attention to the shoe. “Now, the first thing you want to do is bend the back of the shoe over. That lets you know where to sew the elastic on.”

  He followed along with me step-by-step. I moved, he moved. In those moments, everything from our bodies to our breathing fell into a rhythm. We barely spoke. He simply followed the cues of my body, knowing exactly what I was telling him. It was perfect.

  It passed too quickly. Soon, we had both shoes done, and he held them up. “Yours still looks better than mine.”

  It did, but I wouldn’t rub his nose in it. “Mia won’t know the difference.”

  He eyed them again. “How can you even tell left from right in these things?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “There are no left and right in pointe shoes.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me.”

  “No,” I laughed at his cluelessness. “But I suggest she mark them for each foot. They are made to soften up and mold to your feet as you wear them.”

  “Got it,” he said. “Why couldn’t Mia play basketball? That I could help with.”

  “Maybe because she’s not even five feet tall yet?”

  He huffed a little. “Short like her mother.”

  Garrett rarely brought up Sheena, although I could always tell when she crossed his mind. His blue eyes changed—turned darker, almost black. “You ever hear from her?”

  “Not a word in twelve years,” he said. “Not since the day she left.”

  “I never did like her,” I snarked.

  “You were always nice to her,” he said.

  “I was nice to you,” I corrected. “She was just a bystander of my kindness.”

  “Fuck, that’s hardcore,” he said.

  “People think because I’m nice that I don’t get mad, get my feelings hurt, feel used, or . . .”

  “Devlyn,” he said, concern in his voice. “Have I . . . I hope I’ve never made you feel that way. Over the years, I know you’ve helped me out a lot with Mia.”

  I held my hand up. “If I ever feel wronged by you, you’ll know it.”

  He nodded. “Still, you know if you ever need anything, you can call me?”

  “I know,” I said, winking at him. “And since you own the hardware store now, I expect all the free nails . . .”

  My hand flew over my mouth, and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. Garrett busted out laughing. “Devlyn, are you telling me you need a good banging?”

  My hand flew to my hip. “You offering?”

  “Consider me your own personal handyman,” he said.

  The smile on his face let me know he was only playing around. He didn’t think of me that way. I could fall on my back, naked, with my legs spread, and the man would probably ask me if I needed help getting up. I’m not sure why. Maybe because we grew up together, and he remembers me as a kid? Maybe because he just closed himself off after Sheena? Maybe he doesn’t like strawberry blondes? “What are your qualifications besides nailing and banging?” I flirted.

  “I’m pretty good at screwing,” he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

  My legs clenched together. One look from Garrett Hollis could do what going to first base with my date hadn’t done. Garrett wasn’t even touching me, and my panties were wet. I inched closer to him. I couldn’t help it, my body took over. I knew it was going to hurt like hell when he stepped away, but there was still hope in my heart. “I’m pretty good at . . .”

  “I thought I heard voices,” Mia said, coming down the stairs, rubbing her eyes. “Woke me up.”

  I stepped back from Garrett. “Sorry, baby girl,” he said. “Devlyn was just helping me with your pointe shoes.”

  Mia nodded sleepily, and I headed toward the door. Garrett flashed me a grin, and I gave him a little wave as I opened the front door to leave. The cool night air did nothing to soothe the heat radiating off my skin. The short drive home didn’t, either.

  I plopped down on my bed. For the first time in my twenty-eight years on the planet, I couldn’t control the desire in my body, slipping my hand between my legs. I wondered if Garrett ever jerked off thinking about me. Probably not.

  I closed my eyes, thinking about his big, strong hands, how they moved. I wanted his hands on me, working me. I wanted my fingers to be his. Just once, I wanted to know how he kissed. A life full of wanting that man, and all I had to show for it was an ache so deep not even I could reach it.

  Unsure whether there was anything more frustrated than a horny woman, I stopped touching myself. I was sick of having no control over my feelings for Garrett. Damn it, I was going to find some control. I might have been the only young woman on the planet that didn’t own a vibrator. My eyes scanned my room for something, anything for me to be on top of. I still had my favorite stuffed animal from childhood, but I couldn’t bring myself to defile him that way.

  I’d read all the articles, heard enough girlfriends, watched enough late-night television to know women used some interesting things to get themselves off. But I didn’t have a fancy shower head, the laundry machine was too far, I refused to go so far as to use my electric toothbrush, I didn’t have one of those back massagers that everyone knows are undercover vibrators, and the cucumbers in my fridge were for my eyes, not my vagina.

  Another night of my life ended in frustration, thinking about Garrett Hollis.

  New plan—Eden Valley had a lot going for it, but it wasn’t the hub for vibrators. I could’ve ordered one online, but who wanted to wait seven to ten business days? I knew a nearby town where I could get one, which worked out well since my weekly exercise class just so happened to be in that town.

  So the next day, after closing up the diner, I headed off, proudly walking into the sex shop wearing my darkest sunglasses and a hat, and purchased two. I couldn’t decide between pink or purple, so I got both. A girl has to have choices.

  Liberated and determined to be a woman in charge—well, as charged up as my two vibrators, at least—I headed back to Eden Valley. That’s when it happened.

  A simple trip to the not-quite-local sex shop crushed my heart. Along the way, I spotted Garrett’s truck outside a blue house, a woman wearing scrubs kissing him on her porch before tugging at his jeans and pulling him inside. I didn’t stop. Tears fell down my cheeks.

  He sure was good at screwing, all right. Screwing with my heart.

  CHAPTER TEN

  GARRETT

  Opening the door to my house, I’m met with laugher. I’m going to miss that beautiful sound.

  “In here,” Mia calls out. Stepping to the den, I find Mia and my dad on the sofa, two pizza boxes on the coffee table and an old episode of Friends on the television. She smiles at me. “Granddad’s staying the night.”

  Looking to my father, he just shrugs. Mia is so used to having men wrapped around her little finger she may never get married. “She’s worried I have a concussion.”

  “You hit your head hard,” Mia says, planting a kiss on his cheek. “So we ordered pizza and are going to binge watch Friends. Can you believe Granddad’s never seen it?”

  Trying not to laugh, I grab a slice and sit down with them. “I just want to know if that Ross fellow ever gets up the nerve to ask out Rachel,” my dad says.

  “You haven’t even made it to the break part yet?” I ask, having watched all two hundred and thirty-six episodes more than once. Comes with the territory of raising a teenage girl, I guess.

  “Shh!” Mia says. “You don’t want to ruin it.”

  “What do y
ou mean break? Somebody going to break something on the show?” my dad asks.

  “Not that kind of break,” Mia says. “A relationship break.”

  “No such thing,” my dad says. “You’re either in it, or you’re not. Can’t have it both ways.”

  He glances at me. Another coded message from my father. Or maybe it’s my daughter giving me hidden messages. We are watching a show where friends date each other. I’ve avoided dating anyone from Eden Valley. It’s been a rule of mine, so why am I considering breaking it now? The same nosy people live here. That’s why I have the rule about not dating local women in the first place. Plus, it would be harder to protect Mia when things went south. The logic is there. It makes sense to stick to my rule.

  Maybe I’ve been sticking to the rules too much lately? I broke enough as a teenager. I look over at my daughter and smile. That didn’t turn out too bad.

  I really have to figure this out.

  “I like that Phoebe girl,” my dad says, elbowing Mia a little. “She’s my favorite.”

  *

  Two mornings at the diner, two mornings without Devlyn. No response to my text, either. Must’ve all been in my mind, or rather in my dick.

  “Lucky number three,” Mia says, referring to my third and final date this afternoon.

  “Why is three so lucky?” I ask her as I hand a customer some change. “They say bad things happen in threes, too.”

  “Genies always grant three wishes. Three is considered divine in a lot of religions, like the Blessed Trinity,” Mia says.

  “Isn’t three in the morning also the witching hour? That doesn’t seem so lucky.”

  “Fine. Three’s not lucky, but it is a crowd,” she says, giggling. “So I’ll stay at Granddad’s tonight. We can finish watching Friends.”

  “Mia,” I say, a certain tone in my voice. I’ve never, and I mean never have I brought a woman home, whether Mia was there or not. Maybe that’s her fascination with all this. She’s never actually seen me with a woman on a date until all this started. There haven’t been many girlfriends, but the few there have been were kept hidden from Mia. Sure, she’d know I had a date, but she’s never come face-to-face with that reality. No matter her enthusiasm now, I have to wonder how long that will last.