The O Coach

by Tara Wylde

  “Like, did he call out her name while the two of you were going at it?”

  “Oh, God, no.” I shudder. “That would be horrible. No, nothing like that, it was something about how the two of us would have been friends.”

  Tracy winces. “I guess there are worse things he could have said.”

  “Yeah.” Feeling chilled all of a sudden, I rub my arms. “For some reason it really set me off. I can’t stop thinking that he’s comparing everything I do, everything I say to her. Then I start wondering if he wants me to be just like her, or if he is simply with me because he’s lonely.”

  “How many girlfriends has he had since she passed away?”

  I shrug. “We haven’t really talked about it, but I don’t think there have been any. A few of the things he’s said makes me think that he’s pretty much been celibate.”

  Tracy lets out a long, low whistle. “Wow! I don’t think I know anyone other than my great uncle Pete and Catholic priests who are celibate. Even senior citizens seem to spend a lot of time dating. If he really hasn’t been with another woman since losing his wife, I’d say he was pretty devoted to her.”

  “Would you date him?”

  Tracy considers the question. “Honestly, probably not. I’m too self-centered to want to run the risk of standing in a first love’s shadow.”

  My shoulders slump and my heart twinges painfully. “So, I should end things now?”

  “I didn’t say that. This is the first guy, ever, who has ever twisted you up inside, which makes him pretty special. And the fact that he’s remained faithful to his wife all this time also says something about his character. It sounds like you found a genuinely good guy, and you and I both know that there aren’t many like that who are still on the market.”

  I blow out a sigh. “You do know that I was hoping for a black and white answer, right?”

  Tracy’s smile is just a little whimsical. “Sorry girlfriend, I can’t give you that. But if I was in your shoes, I guess I’d give it some time, see how things progress. If you decide that you really love him and think he’s worth the effort, then I guess you’ll be willing to put up with his first wife’s memory.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Garret

  Miss you

  I hit send and take comfort in the thought of those two simple words winging their way past satellites and cell phone towers until they eventually make it across town and appear on Erin’s phone.

  I’m pretty pleased with myself. In the two days we were together, Erin got under my skin. I got used to her in my apartment. Even before the sun rose this morning I was already dreading the day, knowing full well that she needed to go to work, leaving me here, alone, something that never bothered me before now.

  Still, I’ve managed to keep myself occupied all day, and didn’t break down and text her until 4:30 in the afternoon.

  My phone’s incoming text signal chimes and I snatch it up, almost before the unique sound ends, and read the text.

  Miss you, more!

  I grin and quickly tap out another message.

  Not possible!

  A second later, her response, an eyeroll smiley face, appears on my screen.

  I glance at the clock. Erin’s office officially closes its doors in twenty minutes, which would give me just enough time to make a stop and still pick her up.

  I quickly send her another text.

  Are you wearing pants?

  I hurry out of my office and am in the middle of changing my shirt when I get a text.

  Yes. Why?

  Rather than reply, I simply grab my keys and stuff my wallet into my pocket. I need to get over there before she takes off.

  The door to my apartment swings open a split second before I open it. Hannah walks through with her teenage son, Eli, close at her heels.

  “Oh Garret!” Hannah’s perpetually tired eyes widen. “I didn’t expect you to be here. You’re usually locked in your office.”

  I smile at her. I hired her shortly after moving into this apartment. In exchange for cleaning up after me, she has a Dovetail apartment at no charge. She also does a great deal of work for the other tenants as well. I appreciate the fact that in addition to being a hard worker, she’s also very discreet. I don’t have to worry about her telling her other clients about me and vice versa. That’s not an easy to trait to find in housekeepers.

  I grin at the pair. “I thought I’d shake things up and take off for a few hours. It’ll give you a chance to get into my office and properly clean it.” Since I’m normally working when Hannah is here, the issue of what to do with my office is always a sensitive subject. The compromise that we’ve worked out is that at least once a week, I let her in to thoroughly scrub.

  “You’re going out, like, actually leaving the apartment?” Eli shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He looks everywhere but at me. Strange, since usually Eli and I get along just fine.

  “In this case, leaving the building,” I tell him. “I’ve got a date.” I cock my head to one side and consider the gangly teen. “Maybe you should get one too. Than you’d be so busy concentrating on her, you wouldn’t get in the kind of trouble that leads to you getting suspended from school.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He still looks nervous.

  “He’d better not get suspended again.” Hannah’s tone is harsh. “This time he only has to follow me around and clean apartments. It’s pretty easy work, but the next time, I’ll send him to live with his Uncle Jordan, who’ll put him to work spreading asphalt in the hot sun. That’ll teach him a lesson about breaking the rules.”

  My heart goes out to Eli. He reminds me so much of me that sometimes it’s like staring in a mirror. Thanks to all of Hannah’s hard work, Eli lives better than I did, but he’s still surrounded by people who are wealthier than he is, who think less of him because his mother is a housecleaner, and he’s smart. Scary smart. Smart enough that I’m fairly certain that the main reason he gets into so much trouble at school is because he’s bored.

  Despite his reputation for being a troublemaker, Eli is normally calm and polite. But tonight, he’s jumpy. Like he’s up to something.

  Normally, I’d hang around, taking the time to attempt to find out what’s going on with Eli, but today I don’t have time, not if I want to catch Erin before she slips out of the office for the day.

  Nodding to both of them, I hurry out the door.

  ‘May I help you, sir?” A tall, slender blond woman dressed in a simple brown suit walks across the mauve and charcoal gray lobby toward me. Before I have a chance to answer her question, she extends a manicured hand toward me. “I’m Tracy Reynolds. The T in E and T Marketing and Advertising.”

  I shake her hand. “Hi Tracy. I’m looking for Erin. Is she still in?”

  “Oh, you know, I’m not real sure.” Tracy looks over her shoulder. “I think I see movement in her office.” Her attention snaps back to me. “It’s closing time, but I can see if she wants to stick around a little longer.” Her eyes drop to the brightly colored mums I’m holding. “Is this business or pleasure?”

  “A little bit of both.”

  “Oh, those are my favorite kinds of meetings.” Tracy’s grin is infectious. Between it and her warm personality, I can see why she and Erin were able to keep their friendship strong while creating a business in an industry that has a reputation for tearing people apart. They’re both sunny, relatively optimistic people. “Follow me,” Tracy adds as she turns and moves toward one of the doors.

  Tracy shoves the door open. “Erin. There’s someone here to see you.” She sends me a teasing smile over her shoulder. “And he brought flowers.”

  Erin is standing beside her desk, flipping through a notebook. She looks over and for a spilt second, her expression freezes, then a slow smile spreads across her face.

  “Garret.” My body tightens in a direct response to her warm voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw these—” I hold the mums aloft. “And
promptly thought of you.”

  “Oh Garret,” Erin coos. “They’re gorgeous. Thank you.”

  “I’ll go and find something to put them in,” Tracy murmurs. She starts to turn to go, but hesitates. Her gaze meets Erin’s. “And Erin, with regards to that question you had earlier. In this case—” Her gaze flicks to me. “—I still think you should give it a shot.”

  Erin nods before burying her nose in the round blossoms. “These are so pretty, Garret. I love them.”

  If a few flowers are all it takes to put that expression of sheer joy on her face, then I’ll happily buy out an entire florist shop just to make her happy.

  “I have a confession.” I shove my hands in my pockets. Erin’s wary gaze meets my own.

  “What?” she cautiously asks.

  “Those flowers are part bribe.”

  Erin’s eyes narrow. “A bribe for what?”

  “I hoped they’d be enough to get you to take a ride with me.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Erin

  “Well, what do you think?”

  I chew on my lower lip and stare at the machine in front of me, trying to decide exactly what I feel about it.

  “It’s pretty.” I’m telling the truth. “Is it old?” It looks heavier, more stable, than the motorcycles bikers currently ride while weaving in and out of traffic.

  “Not old,” Garret says. “It’s a classic. A 1947 Harley Davidson Knucklebuster. One of the best machines the company ever made. I found her in some guy’s garage—he couldn’t even remember where he’d gotten her—and spent all last winter rebuilding her.”

  He did a good job. The bike looks like it just came off the showroom floor.

  “When you asked if I wanted to go for a ride with you, I thought you meant in your car. I didn’t realize this was what you had in mind.”

  Garret gently massages the small of my back and beams at the motorcycle that’s parked in the slot beside my car. “I just finished getting her all put together last week. Then it did nothing but rain and it was too wet for me to get excited about taking her out. This is an inaugural ride. I thought you might like to be a part of it.”

  He’s right. I do. I’d never been on the back of a motorcycle, but I always envy people when I see them riding around on one. They always look so free and so much happier than the rest of us who’ve opted for boring old cars for our transportation needs.

  On the other hand, the idea of getting on that thing scares me to death. If we are in an accident, there is absolutely nothing between me and certain death.

  “Please,” Garret pleads. “Just a short ride. It’ll be fun.”

  I shoot him my best side eye. “Only a short ride, like around the block. And you have to go slow.”

  Garret’s solemn expression is ruined by the delighted smile that keeps sneaking out. He uses to fingers to draw an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

  I suck in a deep breath and hope I’m not making a really stupid decision. “Okay.”

  Garret whoops with delight as he unstraps one of the black helmets from the back of the bike. He hands it to me. “Here. I hope it fits.”

  “Great,” I mutter to myself as I settle it on my head. “Now if we get in an accident, not only will someone have to deal with my bleeding, mangled body, but they’ll also see that I have helmet hair. Wonderful.”

  The helmet feels strange once I have it strapped in place. Something about the way it cups my head makes me feel almost weightless, like I’m actually wearing a space suit and taking my first steps on the moon.

  “Here.” Garret, wearing a helmet of his own, walks over to me. He cups a hand on the back of my shoulder and guides me to the built-in second seat. I swing my leg over the bike and straddle.

  Garret settles into his seat before me. Leaning forward, I wrap my arms around his waist, linking my fingers together to hide the way they’re shaking.

  Garret turns the key. The engine springs to life with a roar that sweeps right through me.

  Garret taps the back of my hand and then the bike starts forward.

  The parking lot isn’t bad. Garret drives nice and slowly, just like he promised and no one else is driving around in the lot, so I don’t have to worry about anyone hitting me.

  I hold on tight to Garret, staring over his shoulder at the road we’re going to turn onto. Has the traffic always gone so fast? Have there always been so many cars?

  My heart lodges in my throat and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as Garret makes the turn off the driveway and onto the road.

  The strangest thing happens. With my eyes closed, I become less aware of the traffic and potential accidents, and more aware of the little things around me. The smell of Garret’s aftershave, the powerful purr of the engine, the way the bike vibrates between my legs, how good having my arms around Garret feels.

  Even though he’s driving well below the speed limit, it hardly takes any time at all for him to make a loop around the block and return to our starting point. He stops the bike, but doesn’t kill the engine. He removes his helmet and looks over his shoulder at me.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  “I like it,” I confess, surprising myself.

  “Want to go for a longer, faster ride?”

  “Oh gosh, yes.”

  Garret doesn’t have to be told twice.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Erin

  I thought we’d stick to the city, maybe find a nice little place with a balcony that serves carb-loaded dishes paired with great wine and have some dinner, but Garret has other ideas. Instead of heading toward Tucson’s city center, he points the bike down the General Hitchcock highway and lets the horses run.

  I scream with delight as the wind whips through my hair that spills out from beneath the bottom of my helmet, not caring that it’s going to be one big snarl that will take hours to unravel. I’ve never felt so free, so exhilarated.

  After about twenty miles, Garret exits off the highway, slowing the pace as he winds his way down one back road after another.

  At first it’s fun, seeing a part of Arizona that I rarely take the time to explore, but eventually, I’m distracted by the bike’s constant vibration and the way Garret feels. My arms are tired of staying locked in one position. My hands are itching to do something more fun than merely hanging on.

  Without any conscious thought, I splay my hands over Garrett’s flat belly, pressing hard enough to feel the same ridges and valleys I’ve already spent hours exploring. Next my fingers creep lower until they encounter his waistband. Smiling to myself, I make short work of his button and slide my hands into his pants and stroke his penis.

  I feel Garret gasp, the motorcycle wobbling as my fingers circle the base of his cock. The sudden, unsteady shifting of the bike alarms me. The quick rush of fear should serve as a warning to keep my hands to myself, but I can’t. It’s like some previously unknown reckless quality of my nature has taken control of my hands and soul. There’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  The flesh beneath my fingertips hardens and grows warmer, delighting me.

  Still holding onto Garret’s waist with one hand, I slide my other further into his pants, letting my fingers lightly dance along the length of his cock. It’s not easy since his jeans weren’t designed to fit both my hand and a fully erect Garret at the same time. I slide the tip of my index finger along the slit in the bulbous head, as my thumb lightly massages his scrotum.

  Garret jerks on the handlebars, turning the bike down a narrow two-track. I continue massaging him as I press my chest more firmly into his back, and adjust my position so that the bike’s powerful vibrations rocket through my body.

  Garret stops the bike beside a crooked honey locust tree. He barely turns the engine off before he leaps off it. He tugs me off the bike so fast that my hand falls away from his body and he over balances and we tumble to the ground.

  “I had no idea,” Garret gasps in my ear, as he rips my pants open and shoves them down
my legs, “that you were going to turn into some sex-crazed maniac.”

  I bite his ear lobe as my hand, still wrapped firmly around his cock, steadily pumps him. “Admit it, you love it when I take control.”

  “Both of us would be singing a different tune if I’d wrecked the bike when you shoved your hand into my pants.”

  Garret’s magic fingers flick my clit. I’m so turned on, that’s all it takes to trigger a burst of sensation that leaves me seeing stars. When I open my eyes, they meet Garret’s as he stares down at me.

  “What?”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “Hard to believe none of your other boyfriends never managed to get you off when it seems that every time I so much as look at you, you’re in the middle of a climax.”

  “You know what they say,” I whisper against his lips.

  “What’s that?” Garret finds his pants and digs through the pockets until he unearths a condom. Reluctantly I release my grip on his cock so that he can cover himself.

  “It’s all about the company you keep.”

  Garret’s laughter fills my ears as he rolls me under him and drives into me with one long, sure thrust that practically reaches my soul.

  His mouth comes down on mine and he kisses me as if his life depends upon it as my inner walls clutch and convulse around his cock, milking it for all it’s worth.

  I hear myself scream, the sound startling a few songbirds from the tree as one of the most intense orgasms I’ve experienced to date washes over me.

  Garret pounds into me one final time before he reaches the end of his endurance. I clutch him to me, holding on to him for all I’m worth as clouds chase one another across the darkening sky. A a feeling of complete and utter contentment envelopes me.

  If I’m not careful, I’m going to wind up so addicted to Garret, I won’t be able to live without him.