by Smith, L. T.
Lily was tugging me towards the door in the hopes I would get the message and bugger off to pick up her new friend.
I wanted to be all pissy and say I hadn’t heard the phone ring, but I knew, and so did Abbie, that I hadn’t turned my mobile back on since the morning, when I was pretending to be talking to some woman other than my sister. That also reminded me that Abbie had one on me.
“What time did you say I would be there?” What else could I do? Abbie, as always, had the upper hand. Don’t get me wrong, my sister would defend me to the death, but it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t have fun with me when she could. To spend the evening walking on eggshells was not what I wanted. If you’d ever been the victim of my sister’s piss taking, you would’ve caved too.
Fifteen minutes later, I was pulling up outside Emily’s, and wasn’t surprised to see her waiting outside and on the phone. I knew she was talking to my sister even before she said she would see her in a little while. It was the grin. Part of me wondered what Abbie had said to her, but the bigger part of me didn’t want to know.
“You look beautiful.” I think the words that came out of her mouth surprised her even more than they did me. The blush spread over her face as if she had been frantically airbrushed. “I mean, erm…I usually only see you in your work gear.”
No I didn’t, and she knew I didn’t. Her blush turned incandescent. I grinned but didn’t respond to her compliment. The door opened and she eased herself inside, the smell of her perfume filling my senses. God, she smelled good. She always smelled good, but tonight the scent was even more intoxicating.
I watched her fiddle with her seatbelt, trying to get it to slip into the slot, the strong, slender fingers fumbling around the clasp.
“Here. Let me.” Click. Not just the seatbelt, but something else too.
It was as if time slowed down once again as my eyes drifted from her hands to her wrists to her arm, across her chest and up her throat. I saw her swallowing rapidly and wished I, too, could swallow. My gaze was fixed on her soft red lips, parted slightly, almost waiting. Brown eyes seemed bottomless, like swirling melted chocolate.
“There. There you go.” It was agony tearing myself away from her; I could almost feel the splitting. I gripped the steering wheel hard to stop the shaking in my hands. It was almost as if I had no control over my body.
“Thank you.”
For the rest of the drive, we were quiet. There were so many things I wanted to say to her, but none of them were about Charlie or the work I was going to do on her land. I wanted to ask her why she put up with Michelle’s infidelity, why she didn’t see her for months on end, why—and this was the big one—why she made me feel so fucking much. But I kept quiet, kept my self-serving questions to myself.
When we arrived, Lily was waiting outside, pretending to bounce her ball against the wall.
As soon as I pulled up the handbrake, she was next to Emily’s side of the car, trying to open the door.
“Me told Aunty Wellie to git you.”
Aw fuck.
“And Mummy did.”
Anything else, Lily? Do you want to grass me up about my swearing too?
“She said a bad word.”
Looked like a “yes.” I tried the forced chortling to negate Lily’s statements. “Kids, eh?” Forced snorting made me seem like the village idiot. “I didn’t say a bad word, Lils.” I’d stopped, hadn’t I? I’d only got the “fu” out.
Emily turned to me and a fleeting glimpse of disappointment flashed over her face.
“I wouldn’t swear in front of a child. Honestly.” Maybe I should have crossed my fingers on that one.
A small smile appeared on Emily’s face. “I believe you.”
Thousands wouldn’t have, myself included. So, if she believed me, why did she still have that look of disappointment on her face? Sometimes I can be as thick as shit.
The evening went better than I had anticipated. Thankfully, Abbie had invited other people so it didn’t look as if it was just a ruse to get Emily and me together. Another bonus was that there was no sign of Cherie. Result! An additional surprise was that Abbie didn’t try to match make—although I was expecting it all night and found myself analysing everything she said or did. As for Lily—she was infatuated with Emily, and I think Emily was a little taken with my niece, too, truth be told. There are not many people who would make such a fuss over a six-year-old, even to the extent of playing dolls with her. I mean—dolls! Who plays with dolls now? Especially dolls that insist on having tea parties where the “dolls” chat about Justin Bieber, Jessie J, and One Direction. I have to admit, Emily did well. She even smiled like she meant it when she found herself performing a duet of Never Say Never with a bit of Price Tag blended in for originality.
But you know what? At one point I was really hoping Abbie would push us together. I know. I know! Emily had a girlfriend, and I wouldn’t be the one to make her “do a Michelle.” I knew I wasn’t two-timing quality. And her having a girlfriend wasn’t the only reason, as you well know. I didn’t want this, didn’t want to get involved whether Emily had a bird or not.
Just because Emily was attractive—well, to be truthful, beautiful—that didn’t mean I should pursue her because of what was commonly known as “cosmetics.” That was shallow. And just because I found myself looking over at her time and time again, that didn’t mean anything. It was the way she laughed. The problem was the way the sound of it drifted over to me and distracted me from conversing with Rob’s mates. It didn’t mean anything that excitement raced through my body every time she looked my way, every time she blessed me with a smile.
In the end, I decided I would help tidy up. Being in the kitchen with a sink full of pots was just what I needed to ground me. Abbie and Rob took turns reminding me that I was a guest and was missing out on the party. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t spend all my time at the sink. I did find myself drifting over to the door to see what was happening in the throng of it all. I found myself searching out a certain pair of brown eyes, but I still wouldn’t allow myself to stroll down anything beyond the street of attraction.
It was twelve-thirty by the time the party drew to a close. Lily had been in bed ever since she had flopped face first onto the sofa at approximately ten o’clock. I was surprised she had lasted as long as she had considering her throat must’ve been caning her after all the high notes she had attempted. I knew it was down to me to take Emily home, as I had been the one to deliver her earlier, however grudgingly. I was thrumming with excitement as I knew it would just be her and me. Alone. In the cab of my truck. And what rhymes with truck? Begins with “f”. Yep. That big old swear word that was rapidly becoming the word that came to mind when I thought of myself alone with Emily Carson.
“Did you have a good night?” Civilised, don’t you think?
Emily emitted a chuckle followed by a long breath. “Is your niece always so musical?”
It was my turn to chuckle. I shook my head.
“I mean…Bieber, Jessie, and… Who the hell is One Direction?”
I laughed out loud.
“In some screwed up way, I feel abused.” There was humour was in her tone, and it made me feel all warm inside.
“Who cares who they are?” A soft laugh escaped her. I could almost feel the sensation of it touching my skin.
The rest of the journey was quiet, just the sound of the truck’s engine and the tyres moving along the road, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. No. It was safe, warm, companionable. We didn’t need to talk; it was perfect just the way it was.
As I pulled up outside Emily’s house, I felt her absence even before she got out of the car. In a screwed up way, I wanted her to just leave as quickly as possible, almost like ripping off a plaster to get the pain over with. Still, I knew as soon as she slammed my truck door, I would feel the rel
entless sting.
Ping. The light in my cab flicked on as she opened the door. In my mental meanderings I had missed the sound of the seatbelt being unclipped. And why I even thought something as insignificant as the unclipping of a seatbelt was important is anybody’s guess.
“Thank you, Ellie. Erm… I had a wonderful time.”
I grinned stupidly.
“Wow. I didn’t know it was so late,” she said into the silence.
I knew what she was going to say next. Something along the lines of “You’ve kept me out too long. Goodnight.”
“There’s no point asking… Nah, it’s gone one,” she said.
Ask what? Obviously not the time, as she seemed pretty set up on that front. “What?”
Emily shook her head. “Nothing. It’s okay.”
It niggles me when people do that. You know, when they’ve said something or are thinking something and half tell you but then say it’s nothing. “It can’t be nothing if you were going to say it. What?”
“Erm…it’s late.”
“It’s late? Is that what you were going to say? Doesn’t seem much like a que—”
“Wouldyouliketocomeinforcoffee?”
A butterfly of excitement fluttered up my throat as I turned the engine off. She was nervous about asking me in for coffee. Coffee. The hot liquid stimulant that a person used as a ploy to get another person back to their place. What had happened to my thoughts about not wanting her to do a Michelle?
Shit. Michelle. I felt the butterfly stagger and age before stumbling over its fluttering wings. Emily was involved with someone else, so it didn’t matter whether I found her desirable or not. If I knew Emily like I thought I was beginning to know her, it was only coffee being offered. And if I knew me like I knew me, I was half disappointed and half relieved.
As she was fumbling with her keys, I stood behind her grinning intermittently. I was happy to be going inside, happy that it was only a friendly nightcap, but… That’s why I was grinning in stops and starts. However much I tried to convince myself I was content with just coffee, truth be told, I was gutted all down one side.
“Are you coming in, or do you want me to bring your coffee out to you?”
“No…yes. I’m coming.”
She grinned at me, and I could see the sparkle of her eyes even though it was dark. Emily led me through the house to the room at the back. Inside was a sofa, a small table, and not much else. The room was starkly lit for about thirty seconds. Emily clicked on a lamp and switched off the main light that hung from the ceiling.
“Won’t be a tick.”
And she was gone, leaving me standing at the side of the sofa like I was frightened it would swallow me whole if I dared put my arse on it.
“Come on, Anderson,” I whispered to myself. “It’s coffee. Just coffee. She’s got a girlfriend.” I tentatively lowered myself onto the sofa, sinking backwards as soon as my butt hit the cushion.
Emily’s head appeared around the door. “Would you like something stronger? Wine? Beer?”
But it was supposed to be coffee. This was a definite changing of the rules, and I wasn’t savvy in the art of what to do when someone moved the goalposts.
“Better not. I’m driving.” Not bad. Could have been more sophisticated, but it did show I had good morals and values.
Emily tilted her head to one side, her top lip slipping inside her mouth as she nibbled it gently in thought. When it reappeared, it was slightly wet and glistening. “You could always stay here tonight.”
Stay? Stay at Emily Carson’s after drinking alcohol? Stay at Emily Carson’s after drinking alcohol and not long after I had realised I was very attracted to her? It was friendship suicide.
“Never mind. It was just a thought.” She grinned. “Coffee it is, then.”
“Wine.” What? “Please.”
The grin she had given me before paled in comparison to the one she gave me at that moment, and I knew I had made the right decision.
Shame I didn’t feel the same way once she had gone back to the kitchen. What the fuck was I doing? It was obvious that I couldn’t handle my drink—look at New Year’s. That’s right. Where had my resolve to never drink again gone to? At least I had behaved myself with Cherie; no amount of alcohol could have made me climb into the sack with her. The most worrying thing to me at the moment was that I knew I didn’t need to be under the influence of demon juice to happily climb into Emily’s bed.
Michelle. Yes. The girlfriend. I had to keep focusing on that, and I would be fine. I wasn’t the type of girl who would have a one night stand with someone who was involved with someone else, however weird I found their relationship.
Clink. I knew she was collecting two glasses and was on her way back to the room. So, like a thirteen-year-old on her first date, I scooted to the furthest corner of the sofa and waited.
“Red okay?”
I nodded and smiled coyly. I was regressing, or maybe regretting my spontaneous reaction.
“Here you go.”
I had planned on sipping, but my mouth had other ideas. I had half-finished the glass before Emily had sat down. Not good.
The room was so quiet, I even wished for a clock to break the silence.
“So.”
When Emily spoke, I jumped. Anyone watching through the window would have thought I was sitting with a notorious killer instead of a wonderful, gentle woman. Come to think of it, if someone was watching us through the window, I probably should have been more concerned about him.
“Tell me more about you. What do you like to do?”
When?
“You go out much? Any hobbies?”
Huh? Why couldn’t I think of anything to say?
Emily turned her attention to her glass and swirled the dark red liquid. She looked lost in thought.
I couldn’t help staring at her profile: straight nose, full red lips—and not from the wine, long dark lashes… The dark brown eyes were looking straight into mine.
“Anyone special in your life?”
Hopefully you.
No.
Michelle.
“I bet you have them lining up, don’t you.” A short laugh slipped out, and she tried to drown it with a sip of wine.
“Lining up to do what?”
The wine sprayed into the air with a pppfffffffft, followed by coughing.
I leaned over and slapped her on the back. Then again. Then once more for luck.
“Lining up to go out with you. The women. I bet you have to beat them off with a stick.”
“Me? Women lining up?” Yes. Me? Women lining up? As if. I couldn’t remember the last person who had showed me any interest, Cherie excluded.
“Yes. You.” Emily smiled tentatively at me before turning her face away and staring at her wine again.
It must’ve been no more than ten seconds before I answered, but it seemed like a lot longer. If there had been a ticking clock, at least I would have had a gauge to judge by. “No. There are no lines, no sticks, and no girlfriends. And,” I drained the rest of my wine, “no more wine in this glass.”
Emily laughed as she shot to her feet, then scooped the glass from my outstretched hand. “Your wish is my command, master.”
I wished. Whilst she was gone, I began to wonder why she had asked me if I had a girlfriend. Was it just something people did? I was so out of the loop when it came to socialising, I couldn’t follow social etiquette. With Abbie, it was different. She knew everything about my life anyway. Actually, she knew more about what was going on in my life than I did. Not that it would have been a full time job to keep tabs on my boring existence. A few seconds every day would have been more than enough.
“Here you go.”
My wineglass hovered in front o
f me, and I stared at the liquid as it sloshed about. I moved my attention to the slender fingers cupping the base of the glass and imagined them stroking my face.
“Here you go.”
Or maybe the thumb, moving delicately over my lips, tantalising them with a promise of something else, something more satisfying.
“Ellie?”
Not that it would lead to anything. I would have to stop her, remind her she was already involved with someone else.
“Are you okay?”
Snap. That was me coming back to the present moment. “Erm. Yeah. Sorry.” I laughed, or rather, giggled like a teenager on helium before accepting the glass from Emily’s hand. “I was in a world of my own for a minute there.”
“Penny for them.”
I giggled my helium-filled cackle once again and then sipped my wine and nodded in approval. “Nice. Smooth.” Unlike my weak attempt to change the subject.
Emily settled herself beside me, her body leaning forward, her eyes fixed on her wine. More silence. Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea after all—me coming in for wine-flavoured coffee. It was my turn to get the conversation going this time. I could feel it.
“What are your plans for the house?” Trust me to bring up the topic of work when I should have been charming the pants off her. “You keeping it, or selling it after it is finished?”
A sigh slipped from her mouth, followed shortly by a small smile. “Keeping it.”
It was then that I realised I already knew that. Could I fuck up any more? “Oh, yeah. I remember now.” Actually, it was not the wisest thing to admit that I had forgotten that she wanted to settle down, get a good garden space for Charlie, and have a place for her to rest her boots. It proved I was a dickhead. Time for Plan B.
“So. How long have you and Michelle been together?”
Emily’s head shot around, brown eyes wide in surprise.