by Mathew Ortiz
The four of us left the terminal and made our way from Heathrow’s main concourse to the hotel connected to the airport and to our rooms. We checked in at the desk and received our room keys and, low and behold, guess who met us in the lobby of the hotel, dressed in a suit, dirty blond hair styled up, looking fit and fab—Captain Merritt. He looked taller and very dashing and I wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Hello, hottie at ten o’clock,” Stephanie purred and Aliyah agreed.
“Blond, muscles, nice lips… yummy.”
“That’s Captain Chad Merritt. He’s a Cloud 9 pilot,” I explained and Stephanie giggled.
“He can fly me any day.” Stephanie and Aliyah laughed. Annie did not. She stared hard at Merritt, like she hadn’t seen him before. I could see the gears in her head working overtime. She had steadfastly refused his overtures and recently he had stopped trying, much to Annie’s consternation. I firmly believed she enjoyed the chase more than being caught. Merritt waved to us and strode over. I snickered as Annie muttered something just as he approached.
“Caleb! Annie! I didn’t know you were in the UK.” He shook my hand and hers, lingering a bit with Annie.
“We arrived less than an hour ago, it’s our first international flight. Oh, and pardon my manners. This is Aliyah Powers and Stephanie Contreras, they worked Cloud 9 Heavy 212 with us,” I explained and almost lost it when Aliyah and Stephanie shook his hands and basically threw their vaginas at him. Stephanie tossed her hair, wet her lips and gave him a breathy hello. Aliyah, not to be out done, threw her ample bosom forward and flashed her dazzling white smile at him. Annie, from her sour face, looked like she wanted to strangle the girls. Merritt took it all in his stride, all the time his gaze stayed on Annie.
“I flew in yesterday morning. I have one more night and I leave tomorrow at four on Cloud 9 Heavy 168 back to Atlanta. I needed a change and decided the international routes might be it.” He spotted someone behind us and I turned to see a stunning Asian woman, maybe all of five-foot-two, stride over to our little group. She sidled past us and Merritt held out a hand for her. She took it and he pulled her into a quick kiss.
He tucked her to his side and introduced us. “Guys, this is Olivia Tang. She’s on the Hong Kong run and we met in London. Olivia, this is Caleb, Aliyah, Stephanie and Annie. They all work for Cloud 9 as attendants.”
“Are you an attendant for the Hong Kong run?” Stephanie asked and Olivia smiled.
“Ah, no. I’m a pilot.” All our mouths must have dropped, because she laughed. “Veteran of Afghanistan. I was air force. I did a tour and decided not to re-up. Decided to fly these big boys instead. That’s how I met, Chad. We flew a Hong Kong route.”
“Ha, you were the Captain. I was the first officer.” Chad chuckled and I think Annie wanted to vomit. Her complexion had taken on an odd shade of green. Aliyah and Stephanie gracefully turned down their charms and I smothered a laugh. Chad appeared happy and he deserved to be. “Hate to run, but Olivia leaves for Hong Kong in the morning and I leave in the afternoon. Our reservations at Shade won’t wait. Have a great time while you’re here. If you can, take the train to London and go to Harrods.”
With a jaunty wave the couple left and we stood stock still, stunned, amused and disappointed, covering all four of us.
“Let’s go ladies, I think he had a great idea. It’s only an hour or so to London. I know some nice places to eat and drink and I know how to get to Harrods,” I offered and Aliyah and Stephanie perked up. I did add one thought. “How about we take a rest for an hour and meet up at noon?” They all agreed. The girls trooped off to the elevator and I started to follow them when I noticed Annie hadn’t joined me.
“Annie, what’s wrong?”
“You know what’s wrong,” she muttered. Did I see her lashes getting wet? “He found someone.”
“Annie, you never gave him a reason to wait. You turned him down left and right,” I hated admonishing her but she knew I was right.
“I might have changed my mind.” She pouted and I snorted, walking to the elevators. Aliyah and Stephanie had already gone up and we waited for the lift. Pensive, Annie twiddled her fingers and blurted out.
“I want him.”
“Him, as in Captain Merritt?” Yes, I wanted her to say it!
“Yes him!” she snapped and the door opened to the lift. We bustled on and I asked.
“Why the change of mind?” I stabbed the button to our floor and the lift rose quickly.
“He looked different.” I arched a brow at her and she squinched up his nose. The door opened to our floor and we strolled down the hall toward our rooms.
“You only want him, because he’s off the market.”
“Not true,” her rebuttal, weak as watered down tea, fell on deaf ears.
“Whatever! Be ready in an hour.” I opened the door to my room and she muttered something then disappeared into hers. I flopped down on my bed, fatigue hitting me but I refused to rest until I’d texted Cotton. I opened my phone and typed out a message.
I made it. In my hotel and going to nap for a bit and then go out with the girls. I miss you.
I hit send and waited. It had to be nearly seven in the morning back home. I didn’t have to wait long.
Have a great time, babe. I wish I was with you and I miss you something fierce. I can’t wait til you get home. I need more snuggling.
Sleeping with Cotton had to be my favorite thing… well in the top five. He loved being the big spoon and I loved snuggling up against him, his beard tickling my neck. He would wrap his arm around my midsection and, within seconds, sleep had him. Me, I lay there for another ten or fifteen minutes before sleep took me, all the while listening to his snorts and snores, never wanting it to stop.
It’s nice and cold here and the window opens wide and the bed has a feather duvet. Perfect for cuddling.
I sent the text and an instant later, his face appeared as an image, blowing me a kiss. How utterly sappy and romantic and damn if my heart didn’t do a dance.
Bye, Cotton.
Bye, Sweetums.
Damn… got me again and too tired to argue…. damn.
*
Sweet Mary, I’m tired!
Our fight back had been plagued with problems. We were over two hours late getting off the ground in Heathrow due to some pretty nasty weather over the Atlantic. It added to the surliness of our passengers and everyone cheered when we finally rolled down the runway for takeoff. We were inbound with some serious turbulence and the seatbelt sign stayed on for most of the flight. The other attendants and I tripped, fell and stumbled around, tending to our passengers. From what Mel and Sue, our lead attendants, informed from first class, we might divert to Baltimore if needed due to inclement weather. Thankfully, we didn’t have to. That being said, we came in fast and hot and, if you were our passenger you’d never know. Our gear touched the ground lightly and we bumped the rest of the way down the runway as the pilots welcomed us to Atlanta.
Mel and Sue bid our passengers goodbye while Annie, me and the other attendants hurriedly cleaned the cabin. All exhausted, we trudged out of the terminal and I said my goodbyes to Annie before climbing the stairs to the MARTA. My bag seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and I basically dragged it behind me. Stupid, wonky wheels. I knew I was just bitching, but I couldn’t help it. I was exhausted, cranky and wanted my bed. I rode the MARTA to my stop, stepped out to the car park and right there in front of me stood Cotton. He wore a hoody sweat shirt, jeans and big clunky hiking books. His hoody was down and his hair flopped in the soft breeze. I almost sobbed with relief at the sight of him. I felt so yucky and he was here, for me, all smiles and open arms. Into which I promptly fell.
“Hey, Caleb.” He hugged me close and I tucked my face into his neck.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I groaned. “I’m so tired.”
“Then I did good,” he murmured and I looked up at him. “I had Boone drop me off. I’ll drive you home and tuck you in.”
He took my bag and I pointed to the pocket with my keys. He fished them out and, hand in hand, he led me to my car, after I told him where it was. In short order, he put my suitcase in the trunk, my carry-on in the back seat and me in the passenger side. He got in, started up my car and drove us out of the car park and into the fading evening light. The sun was low, almost gone. It had to be after seven. Knackered, I dozed in the car and only woke up, when Cotton parked in my space.
He cut the engine, got out and opened the door to my place. I drug myself out of my side of the car and walked up and into my home. Cotton came behind me, opened my front door with my keys and set my bags them down right inside the entry and turned and locked up.
“Are you staying?” Pathetic. I sounded so needy.
“’Course I am. I missed you, Sugabooger,” he teased.
“Sugabooger? Sugabooger?” I whispered tiredly and he only smirked. “Come on, I got a surprise for you.” He led me down the hall to my bedroom and I noticed how cold my place was. He explained why, as we walked into the back. “I turned off the heat two days ago. Remember, you gave me a key right before you left?” He stopped me and tapped my chin. “Cover your eyes.”
“What? Cotton, I’m exhausted.”
“Humor me, cranky panties.”
I was too tired to argue again and so I covered my eyes with my hands as he gently pushed me into my bedroom.
“Open your eyes.” His deep drawl made me drowsy. I opened them and gasped.
“What did you do?” The bed linens, pillows, duvet were all white and fluffy, way different than my original linens. What was going on?
“I remembered that day we went to Macy’s and you saw the linens from Hilton. You said your family had stayed at the Drake in Chicago one time and you loved the beddin’. I found them online. I got the mattress pad, linens, comforter and pillows for you.”
My mouth had to have hit the floor. “Cotton! That had to cost hundreds of dollars especially since I own a king. I can’t accept this.” He had to have spent nearly fifteen hundred dollars. “Who am I kidding? This cost over a thousand. Oh Cotton, I can’t.”
He moved to me and pulled me into his arms. “Babe, think of it as investment shoppin’ and don’t fret none. I found it on eBay for half the amount. I had some cash left over from my last editin’ job and I know you loved the beddin’. I plan on sleepin’ here a lot, so don’t think it’s all about you.” He smiled, kissed me on the tip of my nose and I lost it. Tears fell and I sobbed into his chest. Cotton nabbed my chin and brought our gazes together. “Caleb, why ya cryin’?” Worry tinged his brown eyes and it made me feel even worse.
“No one has ever cared enough to know what I like. I only mentioned it once.”
“And you talked about snugglin’ under the covers while you were over in England.”
“And you went out and spent so much money and you’re so considerate and handsome and I can’t believe you want me,” I hiccupped as my tears dried up.
“I told you, you mean the world to me, Caleb. Now why don’t you take a nice hot shower? I’ll turn down the bed and be waiting for you. Do you want a cup of bedtime tea?” Dear Lord, the man must listen to everything I say.
“Yes, please.” He left me alone and I shrugged out of my clothes, tossing them into the hamper as I made my way into the bathroom. I was definitely over tired because I couldn’t figure out my own taps for a minute or two. Hot water finally flowed and I stepped under the near scalding stream of water, the tension draining from my body. I heard movement in the bedroom and reluctantly lifted my head from the spray. Getting out was a major effort as my bones had become wibbly wobbly. I toweled off and wrapped another one under my arms then plodded into my bedroom. The scene that met me made me melt.
Cotton, naked and gorgeous, sat tucked in on the right side of the bed with the comforter around his waist. His chest was nicely defined and the cool of the room made his nipples hard. My side, turned down, beckoned to me, as did the cup of steaming tea in his left hand. I beat feet because the room’s chill told me to move my pale ass. I hurried over, crawled into bed and pulled the covers up to my chest. Taking the tea from his hand, the soothing blend of chamomile warmed me from the first sip.
“You spoil me,” I sighed and set my half-drunk tea onto my nightstand.
“Nah, just takin’ care of you,” He rolled onto his side to face me and my mouth dried at the sight of him. His beard fascinated me. I was sure it would be prickly and rough but, in truth, it was soft and fragrant. The oils and balms he used, kept the hair soft, in place and smelled of spice and smoke.
I yawned hard and long. Cotton leaned over and kissed me and I molded myself to him. His body, warm and hard sent my drowsy senses into overdrive. His tongue flicked once across my lips then he pulled away.
“Bedtime, boo.”
“I’m horny.” I can’t believe I just said that.
“After a good night’s sleep. Roll over.” I did as I was told and he pulled me back against him, the proof of his desire for me wedged between my cheeks. I wiggled my butt and he poked me in the side. “Now stop that. Sleep, Caleb.”
Snorting, I relaxed and his arm came around me. “Goodnight, Cotton. Thank you for coming for me.”
“I’ll always be there for you if you let me, Caleb. ‘Night.” His voice, heavy with sleep, rumbled in my ear. The heat from his body and the new comforter lulled my mind and I drifted off with his warm breath on my shoulder. Best homecoming—ever.
Chapter 8
Cotton
“Hello, everyone. I’m Cotton and I’m an alcoholic. One hundred ten days sober and countin’. Staying sober is a total bitch. Ads for booze fill up the television all night. Memes for drinkin’ wine are all over Facebook. And everyone talks about knockin’ back a few after work. I go with them to the bar, nurse my Coke and watch them get drunk, and think, was I that stupid actin’? Obviously, I had been. I can’t say I miss bein’ that stupid but I do miss laughin’ and relaxin’ over a drink with my friends. This sucks. I can say one thing to people who think you’re weak for being addicted to somethin’. Those people know nothin’. You know you’re addicted and quittin’ is the worst, most debilitating, most nauseatin’, most humblin’ experience you can ever go through. I’m not weak. Hell, I’m stronger now for quittin’.”
*
I tossed the salad with the dressing I’d made and watched my brothers and their men interact. It was the last weekend before Emmett and Alex’s wedding. Caleb had agreed to be my plus one, so I thought it a good idea to let him really get to know the Gaither-Myers, the Myer-Gaithers or whatever combination my brothers and their men had decided to use this week.
We’d all met over at Avery and Martin’s house for a boy’s night. Peg was spending the weekend with his step-sister, Poppy, over at Momma and Mawmaw’s. We wanted an evening without little ears listening into our conversation. I think Avery really needed this because he’d been dropping the f-bomb as a noun, pronoun, verb, adverb and a preposition all evening. Martin only laughed and gave his guy another beer. It would appear our young parents had a case of burnout as Martin, who rarely drank, was downing his third glass of wine. Me, I stuck to water and gave Caleb one of Robbie’s fancy beers.
Boone and Avery moved like a choreographed number in the kitchen. They were making flank steak with churi sauce, new herbed potatoes and broiled cauliflower. Boone had brought a banana foster’s ice cream cake from his bakery. I helped as I could. I mean, the three of us had cooked more often than not over the last few years. Before Avery met Martin, we all went to Momma’s and cooked at least three days a week to give her a break. I set the salad on the long table right off the kitchen and a giggle reached my ears. I’d left Caleb in the living room with Robbie and Martin to get to know each other. I heard laughter again and decided to investigate. As soon as I came within earshot, Martin’s voice rang clear.
“And talk about stubborn! Be ready, Caleb, if Cotton is like his brothers, if he digs in, good luck ge
ttin’ him to budge,” Martin chuckled.
“I took your advice, Martin,” Robbie snickered.
“Cotton hasn’t been stubborn about anything yet,” Caleb said. “What advice, Martin?”
“Enjoy the honeymoon phase. Just wait ‘til he farts in front of you.” Robbie laughed and my face pinked. We hadn’t done that yet.
“Or pees next to you when you’re standing in front of the toilet,” Martin added. “And I told Robbie that, if Boone gets out of hand and is bein’ an ass, rip his pants off and blow him. Easy peasy. He’ll be happy and calm. No more stubborn mule… a satiated ass is more like it.” The men all laughed including Caleb.
“Seriously, Caleb. Cotton is a wonderful guy. He has his problems and so do his brothers. No one is perfect.” Robbie carded his hair, thoughtfully. “But Myer men are… incredible. Boone makes me so crazy. I mean, hair pulling, eye rolling, teeth gnashing, head pounding crazy. I love how random he is and my day isn’t the same without some wacky shit coming outta his mouth.”
“Avery calms me. I have ADD, Caleb, and focusin’ is difficult for me. I natter on and on and jump from topic to topic until Avery reminds me to stop ditherin’. When we first met, he said he was a man of few words. I told him not to worry, I’d fill in the silences. It works for us and the man loves me. Me! Some days, I wake up with him draped over me and squeeze my eyes tightly shut. I won’t let him see me cry; because he loves me so much, is my best friend and is the best thing to happen to me.”
“How is Cotton with you?” Robbie probed and I had enough spying. I walked the rest of the way into the room and Martin sputtered.
“Busted!” He giggled around his wine.
“So, is that how you’re gonna keep me calm?” I asked and Caleb arched a brow at me. “A blowjob?”
“Well, since I’ve never blown you. I’d like to see if it works.”
“You haven’t blown him yet?” Robbie asked and Caleb shook his head no.