Pops' Diner, an Anthology [A Pops' Girls Anthology]

by Laura Hamby, Meg Allison, Shara Jones

Marty pulled away first and swallowed hard as he rested his forehead to hers. “I like it."

  "The kiss? Me too."

  "The pineapple,” he said with a wicked grin. “I can taste the pineapple—it's very good."

  They smile at each other, but then Marty's features clouded with concern. “Amy, I-I didn't mean for this to happen."

  "Neither did I ... but I'm not sorry. Are you?"

  He searched her face and then returned the smile. “No, no I'm not. But I have to warn you—I'm not very good at this kind of thing. I tend to be ... cautious.” He shook his head. “I don't think I've ever had a serious relationship that lasted longer than a month."

  The statement blew away some of the euphoria in which she'd been reveling. “Why? You run the women off by leaving your dirty socks on the floor?"

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I think they just get tired of making the first move. I'd probably be better at a short-term affair.” Amy stiffened and started to pull away as his words hit her heart dead-center. Marty pulled her back. “But I don't want that. Not now.” He gazed into her eyes for the longest time and she was sure she could see the conflict waging there. “Not with you."

  "Neither do I,” she admitted. “I won't be a one-night-stand and I won't share."

  Marty frowned. “Sounds like the voice of experience there. Who hurt you, Amy?"

  She looked away for a moment and then shrugged. “The man I thought I was going to marry. I found him with my roommate—although I'm sure she wasn't the first."

  "How could any man cheat on you?” he demanded. “You're so beautiful ... So sweet and generous.” Marty drew her tighter into his embrace as he traced the curve of her mouth with his thumb. “How could he not be satisfied with you?"

  "We, um, didn't have a very good sex life,” she told him—part of her wondering if the admission would curb his desire. But he simply leaned forward and kissed her again until they were both breathless. Her body ached for his.

  "I have a hard time believing that was your fault,” he whispered. “Just the thought of sex with you...” He leaned close and pressed a series of kisses on the slope of her neck. Amy shivered. “Can you feel what you do to me?"

  She couldn't help but feel the hard ridge of flesh pressed against her belly. For a moment she was sorely tempted to push him down on the table and try her out her own sexual fantasy.

  "Marty ... I-I really want to, but—"

  "Shhh.” He placed a finger over her lips. “No, I'm not asking you to go to bed with me. It's too soon. We barely know each other. I don't want to hurt you in case ... in case we decide this is a mistake after all."

  "It won't be,” she insisted. “But thank you for not trying to talk me into it. You are a really great guy after all."

  "After all? It sounds like you had doubts."

  "Oh, well ... it kind of annoyed me that you never really talked to me after I spilled stuff on your clothes. And you hardly looked at me when you ordered your food."

  "I looked—you just didn't notice. Besides, why do you think I kept coming back for more? That had to tell you something."

  Amy laughed. “I guess I'm a little dense. I thought you were hungry."

  "I was...” He kissed her neck and nibbled softly on her earlobe until she squirmed with need. “I was hungry for the sight of your big green eyes ... and your beautiful face ... and those long, silky legs."

  She gasped as he nipped at her neck and sent a shockwave up and down her spine. “My legs ... aren't ... that long,” she panted.

  "Yes, they are,” he disagreed. “Long enough to wrap around my waist quite nicely."

  Oh. Boy.

  "You really know how to start a fire, don't you, Dr. Winston?"

  "I'm glad to hear I haven't lost my touch,” he murmured against her throat. The vibration on her skin sent more tingles through her body. If he kept this up, Amy would wind up taking matters—and him—into her own hands.

  Then he lifted his head and stared down at her with hooded eyes. “I think we'd better find something else to do before this goes too far."

  She nodded and loosened her hold. “You're right. That's what we should do.” He captured her lips with his own and time soon had no meaning. Everything revolved around the feel of his mouth on hers; the way his tongue tangled with hers; the movement of his strong hands on her body.

  Taste ... touch ... scent ... there was no thought involved with the frenzy of emotions and the flame of desire that burned between them like a supernova. They were falling quickly to the point of no return. Faster and faster until the room spun dizzily about them.

  Amy pulled back and gasped for air. “Too fast."

  Marty nodded as he took a hasty step back and pushed a shaking hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah ... too fast.” He chuckled lightly. “No one ever accused me of that before. You've really rocked my world, Amy Jo."

  She bit her lip as she fought the urge to throw herself at the man and say to hell with propriety and playing it safe. “What do we do now?"

  Marty moved back to the table and started to gather up the dishes and food. “Well, you have the weekend off and so do I. We can start there."

  "Doing?"

  He grinned and closed the pizza box. “Go on a real date or two, you choose."

  "How about dinner or a movie? Oh, we could go bowling—we both like that."

  "Not with your hand hurt,” he reminded her.

  "Oh, yeah,” Amy said with a laugh. “We can save bowling for some other time.” Then she realized there might not be another time. This weekend could be it for her and Marty if they discovered this infatuation was just a fluke.

  He grasped her left hand in his and squeezed it gently. “One day at a time ... I have a feeling there will be many weekends in our future, Amy.” He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “One day at a time."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Come on, come on move a little closer..."

  "Where are you going?"

  Amy cringed, her hand on the doorknob as she froze. With a sigh she turned around and faced her aunt who stood, hands on hips, brows raised in question.

  The little woman looked at home in the midst of her shop, The Good Luck Charm. Her flowing caftan in jewel tones of blue, green, and purple blended well with the colorful stained glass ornaments hanging from the ceiling, suspended crystals that reflected light in miniature rainbows, and rows of glass bottles lining the shelves.

  The room bulged with energy and essence as music tinkled over the ears with an earthy rhythm and the scents of over a dozen various incense sticks blended into one.

  This smell, these colors and sounds reminded Amy of her mother. They brought both comfort and sadness.

  "I asked you a question young lady,” Aunt Norma reprimanded.

  "I'm sorry, my thoughts were wandering again."

  "And to whom are they wandering?” her aunt asked, her protective instinct bared in the worry glittering in her dark eyes.

  "Actually, I was thinking about mom.” Norma's features softened at the mention of her only sister. “This place reminds me so much of her. I miss her."

  Norma nodded. “I do, as well. But she's been gone a long time, Amelia. She wouldn't want you to grieve for so many years."

  "Oh, no, that's not it,” she corrected. “I don't really grieve anymore. But there are times I wish she were here ... to talk to. I could use her wisdom."

  Norma's smile was sad and wistful. Then her posture relaxed and she moved through the shop toward the front door where Amy had been caught sneaking out for another rendezvous with Marty Winston.

  "I miss Alice,” Norma murmured. “She had the most amazing aura about her—so peaceful and serene. She could see things so clearly, whereas I...” she shrugged, “I tend to lead with my emotions. She led with her soul."

  Amy smiled back at her and stooped to give her a quick hug. “I know, and that's why I love you so much. Mom understood how to guide me, but you understand why I fight
the guidance sometimes."

  "Ah, yes, she always said we were too much alike.” Norma tilted her head to look up at Amy and studied her face. “It's too late, isn't it?"

  "For what?"

  "To warn you about getting involved.” She shook her head. “I worried about this since you first moved here. You've been so vulnerable, dear. I don't want to see you get your heart broken again."

  A queasy wave burst through her stomach. “I won't. He's a good man."

  "Oh, I know that!” Norma waved a hand in dismissal. “But Martin has been alone for a very long time. He's not the brightest when it comes to love and he has atrocious timing. Just don't lose hope if he doesn't sweep you off your feet and to the preacher."

  "Aunt Norma! I haven't even considered—"

  "Oh, of course you have! Don't start lying to me now, Amelia Lynn Wojosowski! You have considered it and then some. The evidence is clearly written all over your pretty freckled face."

  Amy grimaced at the reminder. With Aunt Norma around she would never grow old, and would perpetually be the pig-tailed girl with skinned knees and freckles. The knees had healed, the hairstyle changed, but the freckles and insecurities remained.

  "Listen, Marty and I aren't ready for commitment. We're just trying to see if this ... this feeling between us lasts."

  "You mean past the bedroom?"

  Her eyes went wide and she felt her cheeks burn. “Aunt Norma!"

  "Oh, for pity's sake! How do you think my daughters got here? Or you? We old folks do know a thing or too about sex."

  "I'm sure you do, but I really don't want to discuss my sex life with you."

  Norma narrowed her gaze until Amy squirmed like a bug under a microscope. “You haven't slept together, yet? Why ever not?"

  "That really isn't any of your business."

  "No, but I'm butting in anyway. Just what have you two done every night for over a month?"

  "We talk ... watch movies and-and go bowling."

  Norma's eyebrows rose. “That's all?"

  Again the heat crept up her neck until her face tingled. “We, uh, we kiss ... a lot."

  "Hummmm.... “Those dark eyes continued their scrutiny until Amy thought she might scream. “Does he have ... how shall I put this gently? Does the good doctor have, uh, problems in this area?"

  "No! I-I mean, I don't think so. How would I know? It's not like I've asked."

  "That's the surest way to find out."

  "Oh, yes, I'll ask him on our next date: ‘By the way, Marty, just wondered if you can get it up or not?’ He'll head straight for the door."

  "Now I never said you had to go about it so crudely, Amelia Lynn,” Norma scolded. “However, even for someone as inexperienced as yourself it should be quite clear when the man holding you in his arms is aroused."

  "I am not having this conversation with you!” Amy spun around and jerked open the door, sending the little brass wind chime above it into a frenzied dance as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. The evening breeze cooled her cheeks a bit and she took a deep breath.

  "Amelia?” She turned to look over her shoulder. “Forgive a meddling old woman."

  Of course she forgave her. How could she not? Norma was the only family she had left and besides, she seemed to know Amy's feelings before she did.

  Could eccentric Aunt Norma be gifted after all? Or simply a great judge of character?

  "If you love Martin, don't be afraid to tell him so,” Norma said. “Too many times lovers have been torn apart by their own fears—their own pride. And if your young doctor needs a little nudge to the bedroom, I have a perfect potion—"

  Amy held up a hand and laughed as she glanced nervously up and down the sidewalk. She needn't worry—most of the folks were gathering downtown for the last bash of summer at the Labor Day picnic.

  "Marty doesn't have any problems,” she admitted, blushing anew at the memory of his very evident desire the last time they'd spent the evening making-out on his sofa.

  "He and I agreed we should keep our relationship simple until we're sure."

  "My, my ... old fashioned values are rather impressive,” Norma admitted. “But if you do need something ... when the time comes ... I'll have it ready."

  Amy frowned at her aunt. “I thought you hated Marty."

  "Oh, of course not. We don't agree on certain things—and they are important to be sure—but he's a kind, decent man. I've known him since he was in diapers!"

  Amy giggled at the image and wondered what her sometimes-to-serious doctor would say.

  "He is fun to spar with,” her aunt added. “Have a good time dear. I'll leave the light on downstairs."

  * * * *

  Amy knew she must be bursting into flame. There could be no other explanation for the heat coursing through her veins ... unless the man's hands moving over her body had a little to do with the incredible sensation.

  "Marty...” she groaned his name as he began his sensuous assault on her breasts. The thin silk of her bra did little to camouflage the feel of his hot mouth and smooth fingers roaming over her skin.

  "Hmmmmm?” he murmured, his breath teasing her flesh. “Do you want me to stop?"

  "Never."

  Marty chuckled and unhooked the front clasp of her bra, baring her to his hungry gaze. “You are so beautiful.” His mouth moving over her elicited a cry of surprise and pleasure.

  Amy was sure she couldn't stand the torment for another second. She ached for him, yearned for him. It was no longer enough to indulge in this sweet exploration of one another's bodies. She needed more. She needed it now.

  Without a word she managed to wriggle beneath him on the sofa until he was positioned full on top of her—their bodies connecting at every point. His only response was a moan deep in his throat that sounded like something between approval and the feral growl of a male wolf being interrupted from his task.

  She clasped his head between her hands and pulled him upward until she could capture his mouth with hers. Then Amy acted on her would-be lover's weakness and slid her legs around his waist, locking him tight against her pelvis. He seemed to stop breathing before he fought to pull away. But she wouldn't let him go.

  "Amy...” he ground out between clenched teeth. “Honey, let me up."

  "No, I like you right here."

  "Honey ... I can't ... I have a problem—"

  "Yes, you do.” She forced his head down so she could kiss him long and deep. When she broke for air, they were both panting. “So do I. Make love to me, Marty. I want you so much ... I can't stand this anymore. I don't want to stop.” She lifted her head to suck at his throat and felt him try to squirm away, but then stop.

  "Oh, Amy ... honey ... please ... I-I can't..."

  She loosened her hold and lay back into the cushions, her stomach twisted painfully with his refusal. “You ... can't? Or you just don't want to with me?"

  "Oh, honey, come on! You have to feel how much I want you,” he insisted. “I'm trying to do the right thing! I don't want us to rush into something we can't undo—something we could regret."

  Anger filled the void where the passion had been simmering only seconds earlier. She pushed at Marty, dislodging him from her so quickly that he fell off the sofa and onto the floor with a thud.

  "You might regret making love to me, Martin Winston, but I would never regret a moment of it! Don't worry, though, I'll stop clinging ... stop begging...” she waved one hand at him as she pulled her blouse together with the other. “You can take cold showers forever, for all I care!"

  "Amy, honey...” he crawled to her on his knees and she tried not to look at his sleek, bare chest. She'd acted like such a slut tonight when she'd pulled his shirt off and made the first advances. It had been so out of character that she'd felt more than a little awkward at first. But the feel of his skin beneath her hands had driven all doubts aside.

  Marty tried to peer into her face and she turned away. She didn't look at him even when he clasped her hand in his own.


  "I'm trying to be a gentleman here. I know it seems like I'm rejecting you, but nothing is further from the truth! My, God, woman! You've come at me like a wildcat tonight...” She tugged at her hands but he resisted ... “And I like it ... a lot. But I'm convinced this is the best thing for both of us. I don't want to hurt you, Amy. Not for anything."

  She shook her head and silently cursed the tears that burned her eyelids. “Well, I guess I made a fool of myself but good."

  "Are you kidding?” Marty laughed. “Honey, you've shown me a side of yourself that any man would find very, very appealing.” He touched her cheek gently as he smoothed a strand of hair from her face. “Me included. You are incredible. I know I don't deserve you ... but I'm asking you to be patient for just a little longer. Just until we both know what we're feeling."

  She looked into his eyes then and could have kicked herself. Why was she fighting with this man? This wonderful, compassionate—if a bit overly-cautious man—had been trying to spare her feelings from the moment they'd met. Any other man would likely have been on his knees begging for her to trust him and let him take her to bed. That Marty did just the opposite seemed so ironic, Amy couldn't help but laugh.

  "You know,” she said. “If anyone else were listening to this conversation, they'd probably lock us both up. Me begging you for sex ... you asking for more time to be sure. I think we've got a role-reversal thing going, big-time."

  His crooked little smile made her tummy flip. “Yeah, I guess we are an odd pair, huh?"

  Then he threaded his hand through her hair at her temple and kissed her cheek. “You are my dream girl, Amy Jo. Don't ever let me wake up."

  "Only if I'm in bed beside you, Doctor,” she said with a grin. “But then you won't be getting any sleep at all."

  "Is that a promise?"

  "You better believe it."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "We were once upon a time in love..."

  One month turned into two—and led to yet another pool being launched at the hardware store. How long would the doctor and the waitress stay together? The odds had them going anywhere from three months, tops, to going for the “long haul".