“Oh fucking gag me.” Neva jumps up like she’s pumped for a fight. “Why don’t you find some other idiot to cheat on your boyfriend with? Why is it you’re picking on my brother? I doubt this is a coincidence. I think you’re lower than pig scum for what you’re trying to do.” She storms off down the hall and slams the door to her room.
“Nice seeing you, too,” Reese says it low for my ears only.
“I’m glad you turned out all right.” I lay my hand over her shoulders as we head out to the car.
“What’s that?” She eyes the picnic basket in my hand and gives a knowing smile.
“Part of the surprise. You up for an adventure tonight?”
“Sure. I’m up for whatever. Tonight is all about you. Remember?” She runs her hands down over my hips and sinks a little lower.
“And what about you?” I’m hoping she’ll tell me. I’d hate to rat Brylee out as the period police.
“I’m out. My body decided to pull the curse card, and I’m vexed with the details of being a woman tonight.” She lays her head over my chest a moment. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I pull her in by the waist. “Then, I’m out, too.” There’s no way I’m going to let Reese pleasure me while she’s feeling like shit. “Tonight’s about being Reese and Ace. How’s that?”
“Reese and Ace.” She breaks out in a grin as she tightens her grip around me. “I love that.” She hikes up and lands a lingering kiss over my lips that blows any platonic implications out the window. She tries to pull back, but I follow her with my mouth, and we engage in something deeper, my tongue chasing hers, playing catch and release. It’s heaven like this with our mouths fused together—her affections pouring into me, desperate and aching.
“Why are you so nice to me?” Her eyes flutter into mine like twin pools of water.
“Because no one deserves it more.” I walk her over to the car and open the door for her. “You up for some camping?”
“Are you kidding?” She practically squeals her way into the seat. “I’ve been dying to go camping since I was a kid. You’d think we’d do it all the time, but Beverly is allergic to the idea.”
“Perfect.” I hop in, and we take off. Tonight is all about Reese and me. Just holding Reese, staring at the sky, breathing God’s own breath.
If this isn’t heaven, I don’t know what is.
I pull in along Fox Road and follow the trail all the way up until we have a good view of Pleasure Point Marina. The sun is getting ready to set as it lays its reflection over the water in pink and silver tails. The boats shine like miniature jewels, like a whole string of Christmas lights. I kill the engine, and we hop out.
“The facilities are that way.” I point down at the public restrooms about a hundred yards away.
“This is amazing,” Reese says as she stretches her long tawny limbs, and I pause for second to watch the way her arms touch the sky, her legs elongate over the earth like a shadow. I open the trunk and pull out the popup tent my dad bought for Christmas a few years back.
“You look amazing tonight,” I say, handing her the round disc. “Toss that in the clearing over there, would you?”
Reese throws the tent in the air, and it explodes into its proper form, mid-air, landing on its bottom just the way God intended.
“No way! That was too cool!” She bubbles with a laugh. “You make every moment magic, you know that?”
“It’s easy when you’re around.” I graze her lips with mine, and she pulls me in by the back of the neck. A small moan gets locked in her throat as she swipes her tongue over mine in achingly slow circles. Her moans increase in volume as we part ways.
“You’re the best kisser ever, Ace Waterman.”
“That’s because I’m kissing you.”
We get settled in the tiny tent, overlooking the lake, and I start a small fire out front before turning on my laptop.
“Are we surfing the net?” she teases.
“I thought maybe at the end of the night we could watch a movie. Just you and me under the stars.”
“Sounds perfect.” Her eyes catch the light from the fire, and I try to memorize her with the flames dancing in her eyes. “And until then?”
“I’m glad you asked.” I pull forward the picnic basket and unleash the chocolate fest on her.
“Oh my, God! How much do I love you?” She glances up as if she caught herself off guard, and a thread of sorrow swims between us.
“I had a feeling chocolate was the way to your heart.” I pull her onto the blanket and land another one over our shoulders to keep the chill off. Not that we need it, but Brylee suggested it, so I figure if it’s what the neurotic blonde doctor ordered, I’m not going to fight it. Besides, I want Reese comfortable. I’m not sure what “Aunt Flo” entails other than the basics, but I want her to feel good, safe, and, most of all, loved.
“Everything about this is perfect,” she whispers. “You know the last time I did something like this was with my mom.” Her face pinches with grief a moment. I remember the hell she went through losing her mom like that. It killed me then to witness it, and, it was on the heels of that, my own mother took off.
“Sorry.” I pull her in close until she’s settled in my lap. “I really liked your mom. She was better than mine, by a long shot.”
“How’s she doing, anyway?”
“She’s okay. She’s got her new and improved family—Daniel’s five, Jenny is turning three.” Neva calls them the replacements.
“What about that guy she married? He still around?” Reese threads our fingers together and brings my hand up to her lips for a quick kiss.
“Victor.” I break his name in two equal parts when I say it. “Yup. He’s still hobbling about. He broke his foot, and it never healed right, so he’s on disability. My mom’s been asking about my dad more and more. A part of me wonders if she wants her old life back, but she’s got little kids and an injured husband, not much I could do to help her. She’s working at the bank to make ends meet.”
“Wow.” Reese settles into my chest. “Who would have thought? It sort of caught me off guard when she left like that, but, then, not too long after I was given the boot by Neva, so I never did find out the real story.” She spins into me and wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m glad you came out unscathed.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I hold back. No point in dragging us any further into the dysfunctional Waterman dungeon tonight. I’d rather put the focus right back where it belongs, on her.
“So tell me how you’re doing, you know, after losing your mom. How you’ve been dealing with it.”
Reese locks her eyes over mine, and the air around us grows stale with silence. Shit. I never should’ve ventured there. I knew it was iffy. I hope to God I can bring her back out of the pit.
“Thank you.” She lowers her gaze a moment.
“For?” Obviously for ruining her night.
“You’re the only person who’s ever asked me that in all these years.”
Shit. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” She lays her cheek against my chest and starts spinning her finger over my shoulder in a circle. “It seemed like my dad started dating Beverly right after, and soon my mother was reduced to a picture on the wall. And after he and Bev married, Mom was the picture in the drawer. Anyway”—she gives a hard sniff—“she did this really cool thing those last few weeks she was alive. She wrote me a letter to gift me on each of my birthdays. That way, I’ll always have a little piece of her with me.”
Now it’s my turn to give a hard sniff.
Reese looks up, and her mouth opens. “Oh my, gosh,” she whispers, wiping away my tears.
Great.
“You really do care about me,” she marvels.
“Of course, I care about you.” I wipe my face down with the back of my arm and start massaging her shoulders so she won’t have to look at me weep like a pussy. “I think what your mom did was incredible. And if you ever need anyone to hold yo
ur hand or sit with you while you read those letters, I’d be glad to do it.”
“You would?” She glances up at me. “Thank you. I might take you up on that. And, by the way, your fingers are magic.” She taps her shoulder for me to continue.
“So I’ve been told.” Crap. Not cool to mention other girls when you’re with the only girl you care about.
“I’m sure you have. Maybe I should talk to some of them and get some references before we venture further into the bedroom.” She tickles my ribs when she says it.
“References, huh?” I’m only slightly amused.
“What do you think they’d say?” She spins to take me in fully.
“They’d say give him back.”
“Am I keeping you from someone?” Her brow rises as she offers a sexy-as-hell smile.
“Nope. I’m all yours, Reese.” Forever if she’ll have me.
“Good.” She sinks her arms further around my waist. “And, I think you artfully changed the subject. What would all those girls that Ace Waterman slept with have to say?”
My chest rumbles with a laugh. “They’d say he has magic fingers”—I lean in and whisper directly into her ear—“and a magic tongue.”
“That I’d have to agree with.” Reese blushes ten shades of red.
“They’d also say sleeping with me is just as addictive as chocolate.” I give a wry smile because I’m starting to feel like an ass while marketing my dick. “Anyway, back to the letters. I want to read them with you if you’ll have me. I mean that.”
Reese sags into me. Her head curves downward over my chest. “I’m sure soon enough you’ll be with someone special, and she won’t want you hanging around me while I read my dead mother’s birthday cards.”
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll be there. There’s not a person on the planet who could stop me.”
“Not even your special someone?” She bows her head, and I gently run my fingers over the back of her neck.
“You’re my special someone, Reese.” I freeze. My fingers forget how to move for the next few seconds, and all I hear is the crackle from the fire.
“Sure, for the summer.” She taps her shoulders, and I continue with the massage. “But come fall, you won’t be on the market long. You’re one of a kind.”
I lean in close to her ear. “So are you.”
Reese spins into me and scratches at my chest. “I guess that makes us two of a kind.”
“That’s the best pair.”
Reese gives a slight nod as the mood grows all too serious.
I bow into her with a kiss, and our lips meet as her hungry mouth devours mine. Reese and I share kisses that span the better half of the night. We crawl into the tent and pick out a movie, but we don’t watch it. Instead, we fuse our lips together until sunrise.
Reese is my addiction.
Always has been.
Always will be.
6
Spitters are Quitters
Reese
The next afternoon, the hard line of the sun streams in from the driver’s side window as Kennedy and Brylee steal me away for a girls’ day. I tell them all about the dreamy date I had with Ace last night and get lost in the whir of scenery as Kennedy races us down the mountain for our mandated spa day. Ace let me know he had some things to take care of today but asked if we could reenact our camping adventure later tonight, so, of course, I said yes.
I pluck my phone out of my purse to text him something obnoxiously cute to remember me by like my tent or yours? or I can’t wait to have S’more fun with you! but my battery is dead. Perfect. I toss it back in the black hole of my bag and note my wallet is missing. Crap. I must have forgotten to transfer it from my backpack. I’m terrible about that. It’s precisely why I never switch purses. I’ve had to walk away from many a latte at the coffee counter because I happen to travel without any cold, hard cash, or in my case, cold hard plastic in my pockets.
A car honks as we narrowly avoid a head-on collision, inspiring Brylee to take over the wheel from the backseat, righting us into the proper lane.
“Pay attention fucktard,” she snaps at Kennedy. “A facial won’t be necessary after you launch our heads through the windshield. Chill out or pull over, and let me drive.”
“Keith and I broke up last night.” Kennedy growls into the road as if it were Keith himself. Her expression dims, she looks hollow as a porcelain doll without a soul—not that she’s wicked or evil. “I should eviscerate him in his sleep.”
There goes that theory.
“What happened?” I’m not too stunned by the update on her rocky relationship. They seem to part ways regularly just to keep things interesting, but I hold back the commentary in the event this is panning out to be the real deal.
“Joanna Knickerbocker happened.”
Brylee groans. “Joanna Knickerbocker always happens.”
Joanna helped facilitate the break up of Brylee and her then boyfriend, Ryan Johnson. I believe a hammock and a couple of blunts were involved.
“Charlie texted me a picture of him doing body shots off her stomach.” Kennedy looks like she might be sick. “So I sent it to Keith, and he texted back, suggesting I deal with it.”
I suck in a breath. “What’d you say?” I know for a fact how Kennedy “deals” with things. Kennedy knows how to skirt a felony with the best of them. Keith is lucky if he still has his man parts attached. And, if he does, he should cherish them because it won’t be long now.
“I told him it was fine.” A wicked grin plays on her lips. “After all, he explained that he and Joanna go way back, that they’re just friends.”
“Body shots with friends?” Brylee is unimpressed. “You should’ve told him that Joanna is friendly with a lot of people—that she practically invented the fine art of skiing.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I squint into Bry, partially because I know I’m about to get schooled.
“You know.” She averts her eyes at my stupidity. Brylee has long since been kind enough to spell things out for me. “It’s when a girl helps out two guys at the same time with their—”
“Stop.” I slam my hands up over my ears and repeat the words, skiing is a wholesome sport, over and over, until my heart stops palpitating from her wayward verbal assault. That’s the thing with Bry, not only does she call it like she sees it, but she sees far too much for me to ever care to know.
“It is fine.” Kennedy smirks. “Because right after I told him that, I had Charlie slit his tires.”
“That’s the sister I know and love.” I’d offer her a high five, but judging by her NASCAR driving skills, all fingers are required on deck.
Kennedy takes a sharp turn as we head toward the chi-chi day spa Beverly likes to frequent.
“I hate cheaters,” she laments as she screeches into the valet parking queue, nearly taking out the attendant.
Brylee pops her head between the two of us and openly glares at me with her eyes jetting out like hardboiled eggs. “I hate cheaters, too.”
“Would you stop?” I balk at her. “I’m not a cheater. And don’t do that thing with your eyes. It’s freaky.”
Brylee raises a penciled brow at me. “Nobody said you were.”
I’m not a cheater. But if I’m not, why do I feel sick to my stomach when I think of Ace and Warren taking up the same breathing space?
Maybe I should break things off with Warren—just to be clear. I guess that’s me admitting we’re sort of together.
I hate it when Kennedy and Brylee turn out to be right.
The Lux Spa in Collingsworth is a modern day architectural marvel. The facility, itself, is enshrined in jasper and gold thus garnering Beverly’s seal of approval for its fusion of precious stones and alloys. The entire place holds the heavenly scent of lavender and the memory of fresh ocean breezes. There’s even a seventeen-foot statue of Michelangelo’s David in the foyer that we traditionally pause to worship because his anatomy is so stunningly vulgar.
Bry
lee looks up wide-eyed and amazed. “His dick is as long as my forearm.” She says it as a fact.
“My new boyfriend.” Kennedy declares while she steps underneath him and snaps a selfie.
“So”—Brylee hooks her elbow with mine as we make our way to the check in—“what happened after dark? Are you holding back the dirty deets?”
“Nothing,” I’m quick to say as we store our purses and shoes into our lockers and exchange our clothes for plush, white robes. “He was a perfect gentleman.” The memory of his tongue smoothing over mine for hours sends me into a private heat wave. “We kissed.” I stop short of adding it was no big deal because every part of me knows full well it was a very big deal—as big as David’s man hammer, but I choose not to drag Kennedy’s new boyfriend into the picture.
Ace and those things we did last night come rushing back to me. It felt comfortable, familiar—we were Reese and Ace just like old times with some tonsil hockey thrown into the mix. My face heats up ten degrees. I may have accidently told him that I loved him, and he confessed that I was his special someone. Only, it sounds better than it was because we were both talking out of context.
“You kissed?” Kennedy flashes her boobs to get a rise out of me, and I avert my eyes at her sophomoric efforts. The truth is I’ve seen her boobs more than I’ve seen mine. Kennedy likes to resort to flashing when she’s fresh out of ways to offend me. “Did he whip it out and let you hold it?”
“I’m ignoring that. And, by the way, your nipples are like twelve times the size they’re supposed to be.” There. Maybe if I give her a nipple complex, she’ll lay off on the bazooka assault for a while. I shake out my hair as we head into the salon. “Like I said, Ace is a gentleman.” We take seats next to one another as an attendant wheels over a footbath to each of us. “Oh, this feels good,” I groan as my feet slip into the warm, soapy water.
“Is that what you said to him?” Kennedy snickers into Brylee.
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