Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  “You need to stop. Maybe act your age instead of five.”

  “But she likes five-year-olds,” he says with a laugh, taking enough steps backward so I can’t reach him when he starts humping the air again.

  It takes the beer in my hand and the next one before I’ve finally convinced myself that approaching her for a third time is the best idea ever, but by the time I’ve made my decision, we’ve been surrounded by friends.

  “I like it,” I answer Beth when she asks me about my job at the college.

  She frowns when I take a step back to keep her from putting her hand back on my arm. Most would say it’s an innocent touch, but the needy look in her eyes is clear. She’s been trying for a repeat since last summer, but the woman told everyone I was her boyfriend after a drunken make-out session at the park.

  Thankfully, Sheriff Hodson prevented that from going any further, and we haven’t really spoken since I confronted her when my mother demanded I come visit to select between a variety of Save the Date cards.

  Beth went as far as registering for wedding gifts at The Devil’s Lettuce, the only gift/herbal remedy shop in town. Hippie Jones wasn’t very happy when I went in to cancel the registry. Apparently, you can never have too many “water pipes”—AKA bongs, because marijuana isn’t legal in Texas.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Missed me? I don’t mean to make light of mental illness, but this woman is certifiably crazy.

  “Give it a rest, Beth. It’s never going to happen.” I frown, looking over at Joy.

  If I’ve ever been heartbroken, she would be the only one able to claim that achievement. Joy and I dated freshman and sophomore year at Lindell University where we both attended. She set her sights on an Oklahoma transplant, and as the saying goes in a small town, you don’t lose your girlfriend, you lose your turn.

  I lost my turn with Joy to—“Hey, man.”

  I shake Joy’s husband’s hand. It’s very civil and mature, but he pulls her close to his side as if he finds the need to stake his claim over her.

  Conversations continue, another beer is consumed, and I know I need to go make my move on McKenna. Maybe she’s been standoffish because she was in work mode both times I’ve seen her. Having kept my eyes on her for most of the night, I know she’s had a few drinks. The soft lights above her head do nothing to hide the heat on her cheeks from the alcohol.

  I’m not into drunk girls. I’m not the type of man that lays in wait while women get drunk, then pounce. That shit’s creepy.

  I wouldn’t give Adam the satisfaction of admitting it out loud, but I have in fact pictured McKenna and myself in many compromising situations, including one very detailed circumstance involving the plastic ruler I noted on her desk during the parent/teacher conference from hell.

  That being said, I don’t want to take her home… tonight.

  There isn’t a single part of my anatomy that looks at her and thinks a one-and-done is the right thing to do.

  Hell, in my dream the other night, I spent what felt like years trying to wife the woman. It wasn’t until Dream McKenna pushed me off a cliff while I was on one knee proposing at the Grand Canyon that I finally startled awake.

  I just want to talk to her. I want one of those pretty smiles angled in my direction instead of flat lips and darting eyes.

  “I think you missed the cutoff,” Adam says when my eyes focus on McKenna.

  I turn my beer up and drain it, shaking my head to disagree with him.

  “Seriously, man.” His alcohol-heavy words are a warning. “You go over there now, and she’ll never speak to you again.”

  “It’ll be fine,” I assure him, pressing my empty bottle to his before grabbing a fresh one from the table in front of us. “She’s so freaking pretty.”

  “You’re going to crash and burn.”

  “Nonsense. I’ve got this.” I clap him twice on the shoulder as I walk away, my sights honed in on the prettiest girl in the bar.

  I didn’t say bye to those that gathered around us, but I can’t concentrate on the people from my past. I’m looking toward the future, looking at the gorgeous blonde with vibrant green eyes.

  When she notices me approaching her, a vibrant smile spreads across her face, and I realize just how easy she’s going to make this for me. I was right. She just needed a different atmosphere and time to loosen up.

  My smile grows wider.

  Then she frowns, as if she caught herself grinning, and changed her mind.

  It’s a warning bell, an alarm taking over the music slipping into the bar from the jukebox, but I’m two beers past being able to care about reading social cues.

  I urge myself to act casual while part of my brain is insisting on a retreat as I lift my beer to my lips, but someone bumps into me. Time slows to a crawl as I watch my full beer slip from my hand. I wince when it hits the floor but smile triumphantly when it doesn’t shatter. It tells me the world hasn’t completely gone to shit, but then the damn thing spins like a top, foamy beer spraying out in a wide arcing circle, splashing not only everyone in a four-foot radius but getting all over McKenna’s feet as well.

  Has she been wearing those sexy ass boots all night?

  Slowly, my eyes trail up her legs, past the top of her boots to the bare skin of her legs before meeting the hem of her dress. Jesus, what is it about a woman in boots and a dress that makes my heart stop?

  The neckline dips between her breasts, just the faintest hint of cleavage on display, and by the time I make it to her frowning face, my mouth is hanging open because that’s how horndogs pant, wide open mouth with tongue lolled out to the side.

  She’s absolutely stunning—and angry.

  “Hey,” I say as I get within hearing distance.

  “You ruined my boots.”

  “Come back to my place, and I’ll clean them for you.” I say most of that without slurring, so I’m going to call it a win.

  Her friend chuckles beside her, but I only have eyes for McKenna.

  “You were right. He’s hot as hell.” My ears perk up at her friend’s comment.

  I smirk at McKenna, letting her know I’m now aware she’s been talking about me.

  “He’s an idiot,” my girl snaps.

  Her fingers trailing down the condensation on her drink shouldn’t cause a physical reaction in my jeans, so I’m going to blame the alcohol on the throb settling there.

  “Can we go somewhere and chat?” I bite my lower lip because it’s worked for me in the past.

  Her eyes dart to my mouth, but from the weirded-out look on her face, I must be doing it wrong.

  “And pull you away from your harem of women?” She looks past me, no doubt catching evil eyes from Beth if she’s still over there.

  By noon tomorrow, I have no doubt Beth will have been able to convince some townsfolk that I’m openly cheating on her. The girl lives in a different world than everyone else.

  “I don’t have a harem,” I tell her, trying to lean on the bar with my elbow and nearly falling on my ass. I recover and stand awkwardly in front of her. “But I am looking for my queen.”

  “Oh God,” her friend mutters. “Are all the guys around here this cheesy?”

  “Are you ready to go?” McKenna asks, acting as if I’m not standing right in front of her.

  “And miss the entertainment?” Her friend scoffs. “I know you’re playing hard to get, but if you spend too much time turning him down, I think I’m going to step in.”

  “Hard to get?” My smile is back.

  “I never said that!” She glares at her friend, and I want to see how she’s reacting, but I can’t seem to pull my gaze from the beauty in front of me.

  Some weird girl conversation goes on between the two of them with simple looks, and I’m lost. I wouldn’t be able to understand this language fully sober, so it’s impossible now.

  “We’re leaving,” McKenna snaps as she stands from the bar stool. She steps around me, grabbing at her friend. “Let’s
go.”

  “What?” her friend whines as she tries to polish off her drink before McKenna pulls the straw from her mouth.

  “I’m never telling you anything again.”

  “Seriously? He’s drunk. He won’t remember a damn thing in the morning.”

  I watch them leave the bar with a smile on my face.

  In case you are wondering, her friend is wrong. I have an amazing memory. It’s how I got through grad school with little effort.

  4

  Kalen

  I’m nervous.

  I’m never nervous.

  Well, I was nervous once before in life, but I don’t know anyone going in for their first physical knowing a doctor is going to squeeze their nuts while asking them to cough that doesn’t get a little nervous. Add in the fact that it was a woman, and my hands were trembling while I chanted don’t get hard, don’t get hard over and over in my head. Also ignore the fact that Dr. Millway was pushing sixty at the time. When a teenage boy’s nuts get touched by someone other than himself for the very first time, things just happen.

  I clear my throat as I climb out of my truck, but even shaking my hands down at my sides doesn’t ease my jitters.

  I know now isn’t a good time to speak with Ms. Kaiser, but while she stands outside with her class waiting for parents to pick the little devils up, I know she can’t walk away and leave them alone.

  It provides the perfect opportunity for me to apologize for my behavior Saturday night.

  Yeah, Mom called and demanded I beg for forgiveness from the pretty teacher, but I also felt bad. Mostly I felt the urge to track her down in town on Sunday but asking around would only bring more scrutiny and I’ve gotten enough already where she’s concerned. The woman hasn’t stuck around for longer than a five-minute conversation and I got wind that’s there’s already a pool going on as to how long it will take for her to either kick me in the sac or fall in love with me. Sadly, my best friend, Adam, is on team kick him in the nuts, and the jerk doubled down after I sprayed her with beer.

  McKenna is singing a calm-down song, something about having patience when I walk up. And her voice is… awful. It’s a cross between screeching and a braying donkey, but it only endears me to her more. It’s good to know she’s not perfect in all things.

  Her mouth snaps shut when she notices me walking toward her, and her hand shoots out when Justin stands to run to me. I’m glad she’s still aware of everything going on around. I wish I could say the same thing because a horn blares as I watch her, pulling my attention and making me realize I literally just walked into traffic while my eyes were glued to the delicate features of her face.

  I give the car a quick wave of apology only to find Old Man Hinkle shaking a finger at me. Geez, this could’ve ended badly. I know for a fact the man can’t see. I’ve caught him more than once carrying on a one-sided conversation with the elm tree outside of the post office.

  Justin is glaring at me as I walk closer, as if it’s my fault his teacher won’t let him play in traffic.

  “Hey, Freddie,” my nephew says as I reach the two of them. He tilts his head up to look at McKenna. “Can we go now?”

  “Just a second, buddy,” I tell him before turning to McKenna. “Can we talk?”

  “I’m working.” Her cheeks rise, the fake smile on her face making it very clear that she doesn’t suffer fools, and she thinks I’m the biggest one she’s ever met.

  “I wanted to apologize for my behavior Saturday night.”

  She swallows, her eyes trying to look past me, but I catch interest there as her gaze falls on my mouth before darting away. I clench my fingers tightly in a fist to keep from pumping my arm up and down in victory. She’s interested, and I’d know that for sure even if I hadn’t overheard her friend mention it at the bar a couple of nights ago.

  “I don’t normally get that—” She clears her throat to keep me from going into detail around such delicate ears. When I look over, I find a dozen little faces looking up at the two of us. “I feel like we need to start over. Is that—”

  “Hellooo?” I look down at Justin, trying to give him a look that tells him I may be making progress with this pretty girl and he needs to chill, but he’s five, and the dude sucks at reading social cues. “Ready, Freddie?”

  “Yeah, I’m—” I look back up at her. “Just, sorry. I hope it doesn’t reflect poorly—”

  “Freddie!” Geez, read the room, kid.

  “I better go. I’m going to be at the Easter egg hunt on Sunday. I hope to see you there.”

  “Have a good day,” she says as she waves a little girl forward because her mother is pulling up in the pickup lane.

  I’ve been thoroughly dismissed.

  It may not be the excited interaction I was hoping for, but at least she didn’t walk away from me this time. I call that progress, folks.

  Justin is quiet the entire walk back to the truck, and that makes me extremely suspicious.

  He keeps his eyes straight ahead regardless of the times I glance at him in the rearview mirror.

  “What did you do?”

  He swallows, his little throat working, but he still won’t make eye contact with me.

  “Do I even want to know?” That question gets a slight eyebrow raise but nothing else. “Is this something that’s going to upset your mother?”

  His eyes dart away. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Translation—it’s a very big deal and I’m screwed.

  “Do you want to work through it now, or do you want to just deal with it with your mom?”

  He thinks it over for a while, and just when I think he’s going to be the stubborn little boy we all know and love, he opens his mouth. “It wasn’t even a big fire.”

  “What?” I snap, thankful I’m pulling into the driveway. “You started a fire at school?”

  He snaps his head in my direction. “This is your fault, not mine.”

  “M-Mine? How do you figure that?”

  “You’re—” He jabs his little pointer finger in my direction. “You’re the one who gave me the magic set for Christmas.”

  I huff. This isn’t my fault. Kristina got that and put my name on it. I suck at buying gifts, and the year before, he wasn’t very impressed with the math flash cards I got him, despite the kit having addition, subtraction, and multiplication. It came in a shiny tin box with a lock to keep them safe. It was a really cool gift, and I’m getting off topic. Suffice it to say, my nephew won’t be a math nerd like I am. I wish I could say I haven’t lost sleep over it but…

  I digress.

  “Hold on. That magic kit didn’t have anything that would catch fire. The most dangerous thing in the kit was that spring-loaded bunny that pops out of the hat. Now that thing nearly caught me in the eye. Do you remember when—”

  “Can you focus?” he snaps. “Mom’s going to hang me by my toenails!”

  “What and how did you catch something on fire?”

  “A roll of toilet paper in the bathroom.”

  “And how does this have anything to do with the magic kit?” I prod.

  “The kit inspired me. Have you ever seen a real magic show without puffs of smoke? I used the lighter you left near the grill out back. You should really put things back where they belong. They’re dangerous for kids my age.”

  I close my eyes, taking a deep breath through my nose. When I open them again, this child is looking at me like the entire thing is my fault, and that Kristina is going to be hanging me up by my toenails.

  “So, it’s my fault you got the lighter?” He nods. “And my fault you smuggled it to school and lit a roll of toilet paper on fire.”

  “And Mom is going to be so mad at you.”

  I climb out of my truck, rolling my eyes the entire time. This kid. If he weren’t the spitting image of me when I was his age, I’d have more to say.

  “Did your teacher call your mother?”

  He shakes his head as he drags his backpack along the ground behind him. �
�She said she felt bad for Mom since she had to deal with you all the time. She wrote a note and put it in my backpack.”

  I scoop up the backpack and go digging.

  “Really?” I snap, holding up one of my expensive watches. “You took this, too?”

  “The girls in second grade like shiny things. Who am I to deprive them?”

  “No more hanging out with Adam.” Those words could’ve come right from my best friend’s mouth. “And my electric razor? How long have you had this? I had to buy another one when this went missing!”

  He shrugs as he climbs the front porch steps.

  “There’s no note in your backpack, Justin. What did you do with it?”

  He grins, a maniacal look that would make me consider having him tested for psychopathy if I hadn’t witnessed him crying over an animated movie last week.

  “I tore it into tiny pieces and ate it.”

  5

  Kalen

  “This again?” I ask Collins as he stares longingly across the park.

  Oakleigh is grinning down at a couple of kids as they talk animatedly about a book she’s holding. Her smile is huge, and it’s clear she’s in her element.

  “Get off my back, man,” my cousin snaps. “Don’t you see how pretty she is?”

  She’s very pretty. I’d say even gorgeous if I were into younger women. It’s easy to see why my cousin is so enthralled. I won’t tell him that despite his popularity that he’s way out of his league with her. He’ll find out soon enough on his own.

  “So, go talk to her.” If only I could take my own advice. I’ve seen McKenna no less than half a dozen times since arriving for the town’s Easter festivities, and I haven’t approached her. “I didn’t know she worked at That’s Another Story.”

  “She just started a couple of weeks ago,” he muttered, his eyes glued to her like a lovesick fool.

  “And you know that how? Are you stalking her?”

  “Her best friend mentioned it.”

  “And you just happened to strike up a conversation with Kinsley Nash.”