“No,” I said, but he was already walking away.
I glared at Oscar. “Thanks a lot.”
Oscar didn’t seem the least bit fazed by my glare. “What did I do?”
“You gave him an opening. You should have just ordered the drink without all the chit-chat.”
He chuckled. “It can’t be that bad.”
I rolled my eyes. He had no idea. “And a cosmopolitan? I don’t even consider that a frou-frou drink.”
His cheeks pinked slightly. “I’m a creature of habit. I order a vodka cranberry when I’m out and I drink beer at home. I don’t actually know many other drinks.”
I just stared at him. “How is that possible? Didn’t you go to college?”
He smiled. “I’m a dude, Dilly. And I was poor, because I was paying my own way. It was cheap beer all the way. I didn’t have women buying me drinks and I wasn’t going to take a chance, spend money I didn’t have, and not like the drink.”
Damian returned with a neon pink drink in a tall thin glass. “Ugh,” I said. “If I’m doing this, you’re going to have to branch out, too.”
I ordered Oscar a whiskey and waited until it was delivered to try my drink. I took a long sip. My lips pursed together and my eyes pinched shut at the overwhelming sour and sweet taste. When I opened my eyes, both Oscar and Damian were watching me and laughing. “What the hell is this, Damian?”
“It’s a new recipe I’m trying. Pink grapefruit juice and pink lemonade with vodka and triple sec.”
Damian was a nice guy, really. But he was always trying to come up with new drink concoctions and, though I’d never tried them, I’d heard from friends that they were unequivocally awful. Now, I knew first hand. “I guess I’m not used to sugar with my liqueur,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll love it after a few more sips.”
I know, I know. I should have told Damian the truth, someone should have told Damian the truth, but it was never a good idea to piss off your bartender. Damian was nice, but he took his homemade drinks very seriously. Too seriously in the opinion of most people. I had friends who ordered his creations just to stay on his good side. Not that he had a harsh bad side, but his good side included drinks heavy on the liqueur and the occasional freebie.
Damian grinned and headed to the other end of the bar, just as Jenny, the second bartender finished checking in for the night and came our way. She grimaced. “I watched him make that nonsense,” she said. “I can make it disappear if you want?”
“Won’t he be suspicious?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Probably. But which would you rather have? That drink in your belly or his suspicion?”
Damian glanced our way and gave me a thumbs up, so I put the glass to my lips and took another sip. I did my best to force my lips into a smile and gave Damian a thumbs up back. When he turned away, I shoved the drink at Jenny. “Just make it go away.”
I grabbed Oscar’s elbow and dragged him to a table near the dance floor where Damian wouldn’t be able to see me without a drink. The DJ had arrived and the music was louder, so I gestured to the whiskey glass in Oscar’s hand.
He grinned and tipped back a small sip. He made that face everyone makes when they aren’t used to drinking straight liqueur. Then he leaned toward me. “I think I got the better end of the deal.”
I laughed, and he slid the whiskey drink over to me. We sat in companionable silence as the music got louder and people moved onto the dance floor. Before I’d finished Oscar’s whiskey, a waitress delivered another one to our table, with another cranberry vodka for Oscar. “Who are these from?” I asked the waitress.
“Jenny,” she said. “Says they’re on the house.”
I looked over to the bar and caught Jenny’s eye. The club was starting to get busier, but she saw me and I blew her a kiss. She pretended to catch it and press it to her heart, before getting back to work. She was good people.
I’d have to ask her sometime why she’d never told Damian how terrible his drink creations were, but not tonight. Tonight, the alcohol was starting to kick in and my earlier tension and sadness were fading. I smiled at Oscar and dipped my head to the dance floor, but he leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of his drink. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in dancing with me. Well, too bad for him, because I needed to have some fun. I needed loud music and physical exertion to work off the last of the bad taste the encounter with my mother had left in my mouth, the feeling of guilt and sorrow.
I finished my drink in two quick swigs and hoped off my chair. I gave Oscar a mock-salute and hurried to the center of the dance floor. It wasn’t too crowded, and I threw my hands up and moved to the music, happy to be young and free and able to enjoy the music. I didn’t understand how my mother could give up on life like she had, how she could choose fear over the joy of living. I hoped I never understood.
I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind and moved to the music, crowd-watching while I danced. Jeremy, a friend from high school and a man unafraid to get down even though he possessed no rhythm at all, caught my eye and waved. I smiled and waved back. Some of my friends hated living in such a small town, hated that they couldn’t go anywhere without seeing someone they knew, but I liked it. I liked to see friendly faces and know I had people around who knew me, who understood me, even if only on a surface level.
Jeremy started to shimmy his way over to me, but hands landed on my hips and I spun to face Oscar, his expression serious and his jaw tight. I didn’t understand the dark look, but I was glad to see him on the dance floor, so I threw my arms around his shoulders and danced with him. I didn’t grind on him or anything, I kept it all very friendly, but I didn’t take my arms from around his neck and he didn’t take his hands from my hips. Even when the beat of the music picked up, we didn’t separate. I looked into Oscar’s handsome face and smiled, happy to be with him, happy to have his arms around me. My smile slipped as Oscar’s gaze dropped to my lips and heated.
Reflexively, I licked my lips, and his gaze went darker still. I was suddenly very aware of his hands on my hips, of his right thumb that had slipped under my shirt and was rubbing small circles on my bare skin. A shot of pure lust zinged through me and filled me with warmth. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to move forward, just a tiny bit, and let his lips connect with mine.
Before I could remember all the reasons kissing him would be a bad idea. He dropped his head and pressed his lips to mine. It was a bit like being struck by lightning, or what I imagined being struck by lightning feels like, only good and…like I was being consumed by a fire of good feeling and desire. I pressed my body against his, wanting to get closer, and he kissed me harder, pulling me tight against him. Holy crap. I’d been aware of how attractive and sexy Oscar was, but I’d still been entirely unprepared for what a good kisser he was.
He caressed my tongue with his own and I felt it all the way down to my core, like his tongue was touching me in a very different place. Damn, I could only imagine what his tongue could do down there if it was so effective up top. I gripped his hair and let myself drown in that kiss, let that kiss do what the dancing and alcohol had only begun to do, let that kiss make me forget I was a terrible daughter and my mother was sicker than I’d realized.
Oscar groaned into my mouth and my legs turned to jello at the idea that I was the reason he’d made that sound. Why hadn’t we been doing this all along?
He slowed the kiss and pulled back, blinking like he’d forgotten where we were. I know I’d forgotten where we were. “Shit,” he said. “You have a boyfriend.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him we’d broken up, because I wanted more of that kissing, I wanted more of him, but then I remembered all the reasons getting physical with Oscar was a bad idea. He was my neighbor and my friend and, when things went south, which they inevitably would, I’d never be able to sit on the porch and watch the sunset with him again.
I shook my head. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
“We sh
ould go. It’s late.”
He looked so sad and I hated that it was my fault. We’d had such a good friendship, seeing him and sitting on the porch with him had become the highlight of every day. I followed him out. I felt like I was walking the wrong direction away from a winning lottery ticket or a unicorn sighting, but I couldn’t stop, because the risk…No. I couldn’t do it.
We walked in silence for three blocks, the moon bright overhead, the cars swishing past as our shoes clipped along. My stomach roiled, and my head was starting to ache with that post-party pain, but my lips were still tingling from that kiss and my legs were still wobbly. I was still overtly aware of his physical presence next to me and I wanted so, so badly to reach over and touch him, to link my fingers through his.
“Dilly. I’m so fucking sorry. I hope…Can we just forget that ever happened?”
I knew I’d never forget it for as long as I lived, but I was nothing if not a good liar. “What happened?”
He didn’t smile, his grim expression didn’t crack. I hated it, hated myself. What was I doing?
“So,” I said. “What did you think? Going to be a whiskey drinker from now on?”
“Sure. Just as soon as you make drinking pink frou-frou drinks a habit.”
“Ugh. Never again.”
“Are his drink creations always that bad?”
I relaxed. We were talking, he was even smiling a little bit. Everything was going to be fine. It would go back to the way it was and everything would be just perfect. “Always. Someday, someone is going to have to tell him, but I do not want to be that person.”
We chatted about who should break the news to Damian, and had both agreed by the time we reached the porch that it should be Jenny. Not that we’d ever tell her that, but it was good to have made a decision.
“So,” I said. Oscar was standing next to me, but he wasn’t really looking at me, his eyes were on the door like he couldn’t wait to get inside. “You tried a new drink and got onto the dance floor. It’s your turn to drag me to something I’ve never had any desire to do.”
He climbed the steps and was almost all the way to his door before he spoke. “Sure. I’ll try to come up with something. Have a good night.” He went inside, closing the door behind him, and my heart sank. I’d lost him. I’d had the best kiss of my entire life, and I’d lost him.
***
My alarm would not stop ringing. I slapped at the clock next to my bed, but it just kept ringing, like it was trying to ring its way inside my skull.
I sat up and glared at the clock, but the noise wasn’t coming from there, it was coming from my cell phone next to it. My head was fuzzy and achy, as much from alcohol as from staying up most of the night trying to figure out how to fix things with Oscar. I grabbed my phone and just stared at Carrie’s name on the display for a long moment before I swiped to answer.
“Isn’t it your day off? Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?”
“You kissed Oscar?” she asked, her voice excited. “He’s such a good guy, Dilly. Aubrey is over the moon about the two of you getting together.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked the date. Yep, still Saturday. I hadn’t gotten caught in a weird wormhole time loop. “I am not going to confirm or deny—”
“Oh, stop,” she said. “Lance was there last night. He told me all about the kiss, said it was one of the hottest things he’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing. I think he might like you a little better after that kiss.”
I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. “I hate small towns.”
“Jenny saw the kiss, too. Did you know she’s Betty’s niece’s best friend? And Aubrey found out about the kiss from May, who was also at the club last night.”
“Doesn’t anyone stay in and play Monopoly on Friday nights anymore?”
“I did,” she said. “And I’m sorry I missed it. It sounds like the kiss of a century.”
She had no idea. “It was a kiss that never should have happened. I have a boyfriend.”
“Oh.” She sounded thoroughly disappointed. “I figured you must have broken up with him.”
“I didn’t. Oscar is a good friend. He’s my neighbor. Even if I didn’t have a boyfriend, it would be a terrible idea to date him.”
“Dating the neighbor worked out just fine for me. And Oscar is such a good guy, Dilly. I think you two could be really good together.”
“I have a boyfriend who’s a good guy, a great guy, Carrie. Why are you trying to push Oscar on me?”
“It’s just…” She sighed. “You know I love you, right?”
I groaned. “Just say the horrible thing you’re going to say and get it over with. I need to drink two gallons of water and drag my ass to work.”
“Your boyfriends suck, Dilly. I’m sorry, but they do. You always seem to choose guys who expect you to be available to them every hour of every day, who expect you to drop whatever you’re doing to be with them. Your last boyfriend was married. You deserve so much better than that, Dilly, and Oscar is so much better.”
I may have been using my boyfriends and fake boyfriends as a cover for my mother’s constant neediness for years, but Carrie wasn’t wrong. I’d dated a lot of douche bags. There’d been a few good guys, but none who could handle the fact that I couldn’t leave Catalpa Creek, none who’d understood my commitment to my mother. The idea that Carrie thought I deserved better was sweet, but it wasn’t reality. Reality was that my life was complicated and there weren’t any good guys who’d want to put up with that. Reality was I wasn’t a cruel enough person to subject any truly good guys to the demands and limitations of my reality. “Jerome is different. Trust me, Carrie. You don’t need to worry about me. Everything is great.”
“I just don’t think you’d be kissing Oscar if everything was so wonderful with Jerome.”
Her words startled me, because Carrie didn’t push back. Usually, if I told her everything was great, she accepted it and moved on. Why were all the people in my life suddenly questioning me? “Maybe I was a little lonely. I don’t get to see Jerome that often and Oscar is a good-looking guy. It was a mistake, but it doesn’t mean Jerome’s not the right guy for me.” It was very likely that a fake boyfriend was the perfect guy for me.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I’m your best friend.”
“Of course,” I said. “But right now, I really do have to get to work.”
We hung up, and I showered and ate a quick breakfast. My head was fuzzy, and my throat ached with a weird tightness. I stepped onto my front porch to find Sandra leaning against the railing, dressed for work in a slick suit and heels. “Need to borrow some sugar?” I asked sarcastically.
“I heard you’ve got more than you need.”
I rolled my eyes. “Doesn’t anyone in this town have anything better to talk about than my kiss with Oscar?”
She popped her eyes wide and gasped in pretend shock. “You kissed Oscar?”
I snorted and gave her shoulder a light shove. “Seriously, why does anyone care?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve been enjoying the soap opera drama I’ve been watching from my front porch. And, I’m tired of seeing you get hurt by assholes.”
That one stung a bit. “You’re not one to talk, Sandra. I haven’t seen you out with anyone since last fall.”
“I’ve been focusing on my career.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “You want to know all my secrets, but won’t share any of yours?”
She chewed on her lower lip like she was considering. “Um, yep. That’s exactly how I like it. So, give me the dirt. Are you and Oscar a thing now or what?”
“How about you take me out to dinner this week and I’ll tell you all about it?”
She pouted. “Fine.”
I walked with her as far as the law office where she worked as an attorney. She was trying to get ahead, and working a Saturday, in a suit, was how she was planning to do it. After I’d left her,
I called my mother. She was short with me, still mad about our fight the night before. After checking in at work, I went right to the second-floor meeting room to get ready for a group of seniors who would be there in an hour for a resume-building class. I’d been surprised by how many seniors had signed up. I wondered if retirement was boring or if finances were tighter than expected.
I froze in the doorway to the meeting room because it wasn’t empty. All the ladies from the book club were seated in chairs they’d arranged in a circle.
“Um, book club is on Monday,” I said.
“We know,” Mary said. “But Norma Jane has family in town next week, Betty has a doctor’s appointment on Monday, and I have a meeting with my tax guy, so we decided to meet this morning.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” I asked. “How you’d get in here, anyway?”
“Bruce let us in,” said Leah, smiling like the cat who’d skinned the canary alive. Bruce was my boss and the library manager. “He told us you’d probably come here first, since you have a class here later. What’s it about? Maybe I’ll stick around.”
“Resume-building.” I wondered if Damian’s horrible drink had psychotropic properties with a delayed release. “And I really do need to get ready for it. Maybe we can meet another day next week?”
“Maybe,” Mary said. “We’ll have to check our calendars.” She didn’t get up from her seat. “What happened between you and Oscar last night?”
I should have known. “Nope,” I said. “We are not talking about my personal life. I need to set up ten tablets and a power point for my next class. Text me and we can arrange our book club meeting for another day.”
“I heard it was a steamy kiss,” Betty said, her face pinched in disapproval. “In front of God and the whole town.”
Betty might put on a good front, but I knew what she was trying to do, and I wasn’t getting sucked into it. “I am a loose floozy,” I said. “And I will call security if you don’t carry yourselves out of this room in the next five seconds.” I gave Norma Jane a pointed look. “Richard is working this morning.” Richard had an adorable crush on Norma Jane, but she avoided him like the plague. I think she secretly liked him, but she felt it would be disloyal to her deceased husband to spend any time with him.
The Good Guy on my Porch (Catalpa Creek #3) Page 15