“Well, that does it then. I’m screwed.”
Matt nods and we stare at each other, pondering a solution to my conundrum, when Anna stops by, hands at her hips. “I know y’all eating more means more money for me, but for the love of the baby Jesus, there can’t possibly be any more room in your bellies. Y’all are gonna be sick.”
We both laugh.
“No more food,” Matt tells her, shaking his head. “Just the bill, and coffee in paper cups. We need to find someone to donate and attach extra arms to Lexie’s body.”
I laugh at the puzzled look in Anna’s eyes. “Okaaay . . . I’ll be right back, and good luck with that,” she says before walking away.
Once Anna’s out of earshot, I look back at Matt. “The only solution I see is for you to volunteer your hands, and the body that comes attached. It’ll be torture to hang around your ugly mug all night, but I don’t see another way.”
He sighs. “You’re right. It’s my duty, but know that I, too, will be miserable.”
The shit-eating grin and the sexy wink he gives me finally cracks me up. As I snort, he kisses the back of my hand again.
Moments later, Anna shows up with the check and our coffees. Matt doesn’t let me look at the total, even though I know exactly how much our meal costs—thirty dollars and forty-nine cents, after tax—he just takes a few bills out of his wallet, and places them over the table.
He lets go of my hand long enough to slide off his seat. Once standing in front of mine, he offers me a hand to help me up, which I take. Then he lowers our arms, lacing his fingers in mine. Sure enough, my pathetic body acts like a sad teenager at that, and the idiotic butterflies start having a party in my gut.
Once we have our coffees, we walk hand in hand to the front door and out of the restaurant, which makes this test-drive a little less of a test and little more of a date.
“So, you just walk everywhere?”
We left The Jukebox ten minutes ago, and instead of following me to the diner’s parking lot where Greta is, Lexie tugged on my hand, which she’s been holding since I helped her up from her seat, forcing me to continue walking on the sidewalk. When I asked her about it she said that driving to the Wolfs’ was pointless since it takes only twelve minutes to walk there, which is what prompted this conversation.
Lexie looks at me from the corner of her eyes and nods. “Yeah, Jolene is like a matchbox. It takes longer to bake a cake than to walk across it. Besides, Quick is too old to leave the garage unless he absolutely must, and I like the free workout. Spending time enjoying the sea breeze, and looking at the beautiful flowers and hearing the birds chirping doesn’t suck either. Those are the good things in life, the ones you can’t enjoy from the inside of a car, and the ones you city people forgot about.”
I can’t say that I agree with that notion, since I’d drive from my bedroom to the bathroom if it were at all possible. However she seems happy to walk, so I’m happy to walk, and when I steal a glance at her—eyes closed, content smile on her lips as she inhales the ocean air—I see all the things she’s marveling at, and feel the awe of it as well. In the midst of all that, an old memory fills my mind.
A little boy with more dirt than skin visible on him runs barefoot in the grass. He sleeps under the stars he knows by name, and spends hours collecting worms for his garden. His life is simple and happy. Really, truly happy.
I haven’t thought about him in a while, and doing it now brings me more joy than remembering all of my adult memories combined.
Grateful to Lexie for making me remember, I stop walking. She halts with me, and turns her face to look at mine. I tug lightly at our joined hands and her gorgeous green eyes flutter as her body gravitates closer. Our torsos touch, and the way she fits so perfectly to me feels amazing. I bow my head, and deliver a quick peck to where the right side of her lips meets her cheek.
“What was that for?” she asks.
I shrug. “You’re a very cute person and I like you.”
Lexie blushes, and looks away for a moment before looking back at me. “Not a date, Matt.”
I don’t know whom she’s trying to convince, herself or me. Either way, it makes me chuckle and want to kiss her again, for real this time. I don’t do either of those things, though. I just wink at her, conveying that I’m aware of this fact, and I fold our joined hands behind me. I release her hand on my lower back, and bring my own to rest around her shoulders. Her lips curl up in a cute little smile as she leans her head against my side, and we continue to walk. This is the first time I’ve ever walked like this with someone. I kind of like it.
“In defense of city people, here you have cute little birds which sing songs. We have pigeons that spread lice. Driving everywhere is a public health need.”
Lexie laughs, not the geeky laugh, but still it makes me curl my fingers around her a bit tighter. “And you give me shit about calling my car Greta while you call yours, Quick? I’m sorry, but it makes, what? Zero to sixty in fifty-five seconds.”
She bumps me with her shoulder. “You shouldn’t mock the elderly, Matt. That’s an ass-holeish thing to do.”
We turn the next corner, and now it’s my time to laugh. “I apologize. I’m sure the name boosts his confidence, which is why he’s in such great shape.”
“You’re such an ass kisser,” she teases with an eye roll.
I know what she meant by that, but it doesn’t stop the mental image of her lying on her stomach, naked in a bed, as my hands and lips trace the lines of her butt. In a matter of seconds, being inside my pants becomes very uncomfortable, and requires some adjusting. I try to be inconspicuous, but her eyes follow my hand to my crotch, making even more adjusting necessary.
“I’m normally not, but I’d kiss yours every day of my life if you wanted me to.”
Lexie comes to a halt, and twists her body toward mine. Her cheeks are flushed as those gorgeous green pebbles bounce to my face. They’re wide, and her lips are parted as she takes a slow breath, and oh my God, I didn’t expect that reaction or how sexy it would be. Please don’t reply, I beg inside my mind, because if she gives me one of her smartass, teasing responses, I know I’m toast. I’ll end up in jail for inappropriate behavior and public nudity.
Despite my mental begging, her smirking lips move and my whole body goes stiff—stiffer in one particular area. Luckily for me, the words are harmless. “I should warn you that as a family, the Wolfs had a few extra shots of weird juice. According to Tanie, no one told her folks that the seventies ended when the eighties started, and collectively they’re filter-less, nosey, and big on hugs. Beware.”
I’m used to Fitz, a guy who makes a point in asking the most inappropriate questions to pretty much everyone he meets, so I take her warning lightly. “Okay. Any suggestions on how to handle them, or those questions about us?”
Her lips dance around her face. “Sure. If a fight breaks out between the women, don’t take sides or they’ll all gang up on you. Georgia—that’s Mrs. Wolf—will offer you food. Don’t get too excited when complimenting it, unless you want to leave with a doggy bag that will last days. If Tennessee hugs you more than once every hour come talk to me—she’s fifteen, and fond of older men. As for questions about us, reply honestly—they can smell bullshit—but don’t give many details or talk about kissing my ass. They’ll tease us about it until we’re blue in the face.”
The images come back and shit! What’s wrong with me?
I switch from foot to foot, making a smug grin spread on Lexie’s lips.
“Tennessee is a person?” I ask, trying to get the conversation back to a safer route.
“Yes, spawn number three. All Wolf women have state names: Georgia, Montana, Indiana, Tennessee, Arizona, and Nebraska.”
“Okay, that’s pretty weird.”
Lexie laughs and takes a few steps backwards, entering the lawn that leads to a yellow house. “Don’t tell them that or they’ll hate your guts forever.”
As promised, the family a
s a whole is incredibly weird in a wonderful, heartwarming way.
The older daughters bicker all the time, and the younger ones seem to have fire in their behinds that won’t allow them to sit still for more than two seconds. Tennessee does hug me a lot, which requires Lexie’s intervention. The mother, Georgia, hands me something to eat every two minutes and the dad, Christopher, is clearly over it all, and glad to have me and Eric, Tanie’s fiancé, around to buffer him from the female craziness.
It’s entertaining and homey, and somehow, it makes me feel like I belong. And unfortunately, like all good things, it ends too quickly, and before I notice it, we’re at the door saying good night.
“Mathew, don’t disappoint me, son. You take Lexie to her door, okay?”
I look at Lexie, currently trapped in Georgia’s arms, and smile. “Will do, Christopher.”
Seeing Lexie safely to her door has always been my intention. Although, I must admit that the possible dangers of her walking the streets of Jolene alone after midnight have very little to do with my decision. After all, the streets are dead like a three-week corpse. The motivation behind my sudden surge of chivalry is more along the lines of extending our time together.
Never in my life have I felt this way. Hanging out with a woman was a means to an end, an end that I counted the seconds till. But with Lexie, I don’t even want to think about saying goodnight. I just want to stay with her all night and day, and it’s not because of sex—since I’m aware that there won’t be any in the immediate future—it’s because of her. She’s magic, and I’m a kid entranced and desperate to know its workings.
Georgia lets go of Lexie to hug me and kiss my cheeks, which breaks my reverie. “Okay, kids. We’ll see y’all tomorrow at the auditorium at three p.m. Kodee’s riding with us, so no worries about picking her up,” she says, finally letting me go.
Lexie and I wish them good night, and make our way out.
The moment we step onto the sidewalk, Lexie’s arm curls around my waist. It’s the first forward move she’s made, and I love it. I look down at her face and smile as I drape my arm around her shoulder. She brings her other hand up and laces her fingers with mine, and I kiss the top of her head.
I’m not an expert on dates, but this can’t be just a test-drive anymore. We’re hug-walking under the moonlight, for goodness sake. This has to be a date, which makes me wonder what will happen when I deliver her home. I don’t know if she lives with a roommate or family. I don’t know if there’s going to be a porch, or stairs, or a driveway. I don’t know if she’ll invite me in or if we’ll say our goodbyes at the door, but I do know I want, need, to kiss her for real.
All of those thoughts make me nervous in the way a guy shouldn’t ever be.
In the middle of my pathetic melt down, Lexie giggles beside me. I turn to look at her at the same moment that she lets go of my hand and reaches for the elastic band holding the knot behind my head. She pulls it out, and messes my hair a bit. “There . . . now you have something to compulsively tuck behind your ear while you obsess about whatever it is that is making you anxious.”
I love and hate that she can read me that easily. “I’m just wondering if your house is far?”
“Why? Ready to be done with me?”
Hell no! “Hell yes! I did my public service for the night, and now I’m dying to be done with your ugly face.” To confirm the falseness of my statement, I tighten my arm around her and kiss her temple.
Lexie’s head lulls back as she laughs the geeky laugh. “In that case, turn right at the next corner. It will put us home in three and a half minutes.”
“And what will happen if we take the left?”
“We’ll end up at the beach, and you’ll be stuck with me and my ugly mug for about fifteen minutes.”
The corner is less than five steps away, so I don’t say anything else. Once we reach the corner, I take two steps to the right. She lets out an sigh of surprise, making me chuckle. I spin around and start walking left, making her laugh.
I kiss her temple again, which I really like doing, even though it’s very unlike me.
“You said you’ve known the Wolfs’ and Kodee’s grandparents your whole life.” She nods. “How did you guys meet?”
Lexie looks at me from the corner of her eyes, and quirks a brow. “We’re doing the first date talk now?”
I shrug. “Not if you don’t want to, but you did take me home to meet your family. It’s like we completely bypassed the first date. I’d say we’re definitely in third date territory.”
“Thinking that meeting the family happens on the third date proves just how little you know of dates.”
I twist my lips at the condescending tone and glance she just gave me. “Yes, I know crap about dating. We established that, and you, as my chosen first, should be teaching me this shit, not mocking me.”
She laughs, and stops walking. I lower my face to look at her, and, without any notice, she rises to her tiptoes and gives me a peck on the lips. It’s quick and strangely intimate, and causes my stomach to flutter, making me acutely aware that I’m eyebrow deep in shit with all this stuff I feel for her.
“What was that for?” I ask her.
Lexie shrugs. “You’re a very cute person, and I like you.” And I can’t help but smile, hearing the same reply I gave her earlier. Once more, I take cute as a compliment because it comes from her.
We start walking again.
“You’re right, I apologize. Meeting the parents usually happen after the tenth date, and though you’ve already met both my mother substitutes, I consider that step unfulfilled until you meet my dacle, Greg.”
“Dacle?”
She crocks a brow at me and asks, “Are you sure you want to know all of this?”
Without even thinking, a vigorous yes rolls off of my tongue, because I do. I want to know things about her. I want to know many things, all of the things, starting with who is “Dacle”.
“Well,” she starts with a smile, and a look that tells me I can still back out if I want to. I raise a curious brow, and just like that I enter the first-date-talk territory for the first time in my life. “When my mother skipped town, she left me with her brother, Greg. He raised me like a father. Even though I’ve never met my real dad, I was five and aware that Greg was my uncle, so it felt wrong to call him Dad, but just calling him Uncle wasn’t fitting either. He’s more than that. So he became Dacle, half dad, half uncle.”
I smile at her because that’s seriously cute, in the most literal sense. “Do you still live with him?”
Lexie shakes her head, and clears her throat before replying. “No, he moved to Florida to be with his partner, John, a couple of years ago.”
The moment those words leave her mouth she looks at me through guarded eyes, and waits in silence for my reply. It’s very odd until it dawns on me that growing up as the abandoned, fatherless bastard who was raised by her gay uncle in a small, gossip-prone town such as Jolene, mustn’t have been easy. I instantly hate all the people that made her—or Dacle Greg—feel bad for it. They’re both incredible, and strong people in my book.
“Have they been together long?” I ask, trying to show her that I’m not in the least shocked by that information.
She smiles like a child does when talking about their father. “Eighteen years. They met in Mobile a year before my mother decided she wasn’t cut out for motherhood, and dumped me with Dacle. Because he’s the best person in the world, he took me in and, despite his dislike for Jolene, moved back here so I wouldn’t have to part from my life. He and John continued to date, but they never had a full life as a couple, because I was Dacle’s first concern in life.
“And then, three years ago, John was transferred to Florida for work, and asked Dacle to go with him. He was reluctant to leave me, but after six arduous months of convincing him that I was an adult, and that after abdicating most of his life to fix his sister’s mistake, he deserved a chance at happiness, he finally went. They got engage
d last Christmas.”
“Congrats to them.” She thanks me on their behalf, making it clear, once again, the daughterly love she feels for him. “And now that I’m educated about the tenth date—one I look forward to, by the way—what happens on the third date?”
She looks at me with a mixture of endearment and wonder as we reach the end of the narrow street we’ve been walking on since turning right. The street meets the one where The Jukebox is located. I wait for Lexie to tell me to which way we’re going, but she just keeps walking forward, crossing the dead street toward the beach. She stops where the sidewalk meets the sand, and unlinks her fingers from mine.
“We go barefoot from here on.” She reaches down to remove her shoes and I follow, taking my arm from around her and bending over to take my Converses off. I’m done with one foot when she clears her throat and says, “Third dates are when the magic shirtless make-outs happen.”
I almost lose the precarious balance I have in my crouched position. I glace up at her and see a flirty raised brow and a wide grin, and I’m so happy I could dance.
Waiting three dates for shirtless make-outs are not too bad. Not too bad at all. I can wait that long, and the wide spectrum of amazing things that can be done in shirtless make-out sessions is enough encouragement to help me through. In addition to that, if shirts get removed in three dates, pants may get removed in four or five. Those are good odds.
When I straighten my back again, bringing my shoes up with me, we stare at each other for a moment, and then she says, “At church.”
I blink a few times in confusion, because I’m making sex math and she’s talking about church, and those two things don’t usually go together. But then she clarifies, “Your original question of how I met the Wolfs and the Valentines. We met at church.”
“Oh.”
Lexie smiles, and bobs her head as I drape my arm around her neck again. Her hand comes back up to hold mine.
The Reason I Stay Page 12