Flawed Perfection: A Collection of Winter Wishes

by Ouvrard, Jude

  “It’s hard to move. I left a lot behind in LA too.” They regarded each other in silent commiseration. “But the thing is to move forward, make the most of opportunities. Here in Kansas, I can afford my own shop and my own house. In Cali, neither. Plus, like I told you before, I’m ready for a slower pace of life. I don’t regret being in middle age. It feels fine, but it didn’t feel like spending over an hour each day to drive twelve miles made sense anymore. Plus, the most important person in my life is here. She’s got a boyfriend, and probably won’t leave. It’ll do.”

  Aubree smiled. “It’s nice to be the big fish in the small pond, too. Here, people like you and I can be on the business owners’ counsel. Help steer the town into the future. I like that. Let’s face it. I don’t have the connections to make a change in Kansas City, or even Wichita, but out here… it’s people like us or no one. I mean, Tyson is king, but there are a lot of us with a voice, and we get heard. It matters. We matter.”

  Rick’s grin had gone from bright to nuclear. “I never thought of that, but what an awesome opportunity. If you’re trying to sell me on joining the business owners’ council, I will. Amazing. Me, an influential member of the community. Who’d have thunk it?”

  Aubree reached out and impulsively hugged him. The fragrance of his cologne teased her senses, drawing unexpected arousal to the forefront. Her nipples tingled. Maybe privileges could be a possibility. I wouldn’t mind hitting this from time to time. Apparently, Rick’s thoughts moved along the same lines. One calloused, oil-stained hand cupped her cheek. He moved forward, until the warmth of his breath caressed her face. His eyes bored a question into hers. She caught her lip between her teeth in a provocative gesture. He closed the distance in a powerful surge, crushing his lips against hers. The firm pressure stole her breath, leaving her gasping. His compelling scent sank deep into her, driving coherent thought from her mind. With her eyes closed, so many things about Rick made perfect sense. Surprise gave way to heat. It started from her core and flowed, tingling to the roots of her hair, the tips of her fingers, and the arches of her feet. The tip of his tongue teased her lips. She pursed and prepared to open, when a sudden stillness in the normal ambient noise of the room and a change in the quality of the light behind her eyelids drew her awareness away from the kiss.

  Her eyes shot open, but she still could not see. “What happened?” she asked stupidly.

  “Power went out,” Rick grunted in response.

  Well, duh, she scolded herself. That’s clear enough to see. “Guess I lost my bearings there for a moment.”

  “I think we both did,” Rick agreed. “I hope that wasn’t a mistake. I’ve been wanting to take a taste since we met.”

  Aubree grinned. “Tasted pretty good. Listen, Rick, I hope you won’t think this is… too forward of me, but it’s not a bad thing to have… a certain kind of friend. Someone you can call and talk to and hang out with, and if you feel the need, other things.” She trailed her fingers down his chest, not sure if he could feel the touch through his thick coat.

  “Maybe I’m slow,” he said, eyeing her, “but can you explain how that’s different from a boyfriend?”

  She blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, listen to what you’re describing. Someone you call, talk to, spend time with… and sleep with. Sounds like a relationship to me. Unless you have a whole network of people like this, the difference is only one of title, so why bother with the distinction?”

  “Oh, no there’s a huge difference!” Aubree exclaimed, startled he didn’t understand. I offer him sex and he talks about relationships. What kind of man is this? “There’s no commitment.”

  She expected Rick to have any number of reactions to her suggestion, but his frown was not one of them. A myriad of unreadable expressions passed over his features one by one, and even his beard could not obscure them. At last he said, “I appreciate the gesture, but no thank you. I don’t operate that way.”

  Aubree felt her eyebrows draw together. “I beg your pardon? You’ve never…”

  He shook his head. “I just can’t. For one, I’m not willing to be anyone’s dirty secret. For another, I can’t do casual. Never could.” He released a deep sigh and changed the subject. “You know, we might want to move to the back office, away from the door. It’s a bit more sheltered, and there are a couple of blankets in there.”

  Aubree nodded, still chewing mentally on the idea of a man who refused to have a casual liaison with someone he was obviously attracted to, even though she offered it to him. He grasped her hand, leading her through a door behind the counter into a windowless room and shutting them in. Inside, darkness seemed to take on a physical presence. A dim illumination revealed itself in the form of a flashlight, while Rick dragged a pile of fluffy, fleece throws out from behind the desk. He set two on the small floor space between the desk and the door and urged Aubree to a seat on them. He handed her another throw and claimed one for himself. Then he joined her on the blankets and set the light between them. “I don’t know how long the power will be out, or how long the flashlight battery will last, but at least it’s something.”

  Aubree nodded, not sure what else to say. The only thought that occurred to her was, “Why do you have so many of these throws? I assume, since they’re covered with unicorns and emojis, that Liz brought them here?”

  He nodded. “She’s always freezing. I make her keep them in here where customers can’t see them. The idea of a purple unicorn blanket doesn’t exactly match with my expectations of a tow truck service and mechanic shop.”

  Aubree giggled, though confusion still reigned supreme in her overtaxed mind.

  “Now then, I hope you won’t mind if we continue with the topic you broached out in the lobby.”

  “Right,” Aubree agreed. I’m so damned mixed up. Maybe some conversation could help. “I think that’s a good idea. Why would you say having an arrangement makes you a dirty secret?”

  Rick shrugged, the movement shrouded in shadows. By the dim light, the chiseled plains of his face seemed almost painful in their sharpness. The normal humor gleaming in his eyes had been replaced by a weird, manic glow. “I would feel like one. I think a better question, Aubree, is why it’s so important to you not to label a relationship as such, even though it has all the hallmarks of one, and why you would assume that a commitment to try a dating relationship is a bad idea.”

  Aubree raised her eyebrows. “Persistent, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I suppose you could say that,” he admitted. “On the other hand, honest, open communication is the most effective way to prevent misunderstandings. You confuse me, Aubree. You talk about not dating, not wanting a relationship, but you suggest sex and invite a kiss. Is this some kind of game you play, or what?”

  Viewed through the lens of his confusion, her behavior took on a much different aspect. Embarrassment heated her cheeks. “I’m not playing games, I promise. I… I don’t know. I just worry is all. I’ve worked hard to make this life for myself and I don’t want anyone stomping on it, breaking it down… I don’t want my dreams to be squashed.”

  “You think I would do that?” Rick frowned, offended.

  “I don’t know!” she cried. “Get real, Rick. We’ve barely met. I don’t know much of anything about you. Why would I make a commitment to someone I’ve known a couple of weeks?”

  He frowned. “I think we might mean different things by ‘commitment’, Aubree. I’m not proposing we get married tomorrow. I’m only asking if you would go out on a date with me. See if this attraction we both feel, and the affinity we seem to have for each other, could blossom into something more. I’m asking you to show people you’re not repulsed by me. Why is that wrong?” He regarded her closely, and she shut her eyes. In the darkness, his overly long hair faded to inconsequential, leaving the irresistible compulsion in his eyes far too distracting. “Why are you so afraid to let anyone get close to you? You say you didn’t have your heart broken, so what’s the stor
y?”

  “It’s my sister,” Aubree blurted. “She… she was always a free spirit. An artist. She picked up the most disgusting junk off the side of the road and turned it into art anyone would be proud to display in their home. She has a gift. And she lived with this guy forever. Years and years. When they broke up, I figured she’d do something wild. Move to Alaska or Abu Dhabi or something. Open a gallery. Instead, she came back here to lick her wounds. Then, with her thirtieth birthday looming, my mom went into action and had her married and knocked up in two seconds. Now, she has a husband who’s all wrong for her, three kids, and she works for me. She hates selling houses. I know she does. The only part of the job she likes is staging them. She’s so sad and depressed. I won’t end up like that. I can’t. Then, Mom starts in on me. Says she’s met this guy at the Vets and I ought to go out with him, and Michelle is right there with her, trying to push me into something I don’t want. Another guy like my dad, with grease under his fingernails. I like a sharp man, a put-together one. No offense, Rick, but to me, you look an awful lot like Mr. Wrong.”

  She dared meet his eyes, to take in the effect of her tirade, and saw him watching her with a considering expression – and a hint of annoyance. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I can understand not wanting to be railroaded. That makes sense, but, Aubree, how is that my fault? Your mom and sister are being annoying and pushy with you, I get that, but I can also see that you’re interested, or you wouldn’t have made the suggestion you did. It seems like this: you’re pushing me away because acknowledging this thing between us would be like your mother won again, right?”

  Aubree nodded.

  “But then why would you pitch friends with benefits? If you really thought I was wrong for you… the rest doesn’t make sense.”

  “Well, I’m attracted to you, obviously,” Aubree groused, feeling grumpy at having her own inconsistency exposed.

  His grin held more than a hint of irony, but his hand captured hers, turning it over and lifting it to his face. He touched his lips to the throbbing pulse on the inside of her wrist. “And I’m attracted to you, Aubree. You’re pretty, but you’re also ambitious, smart, driven and honest. You just showed me you can be goofy with me without missing a beat, and if I’m not mistaken, you just hinted pretty strongly that when we’re near each other, you feel good.”

  She nodded, unable to deny the charge.

  “So then, why not let your mother pretend to be right, and your sister. You and I don’t have anything to do with them, not really. We’re just a couple of small business owners in a small town who moved into the same circle and found each other there. It makes perfect sense? I promise I’ll never step on your goals. I want to see you take up a position of leadership in this town and grow your realty office into a huge concern. I want you to feel free to spend as much time at work as you feel is necessary, provided you’re willing to call me, hang out with me... and maybe a little more when you have time.”

  His words tempted her. They sounded good, right. They touched a place in her heart she’d long since locked away, snuggled into the keyhole and waited, hoping she’d turn them into a key and open her heart. It’s too soon! Reason screamed at her. Too soon to be thinking of opening hearts and all that. Slow down, Bree. “I don’t want kids,” she informed him.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t think you did. Aubree, my daughter is twenty years old. I’m closer to grandchildren than babies at this point. My new family days are long past. Next objection?”

  Though her raging libido urged her to consider his request, her sensible side floundered in pointless, half-formed arguments. “I… I don’t know,” she spluttered, and then belatedly realized she’d let him hold her hand all this time. Their fingers laced together like any infatuated couple. We almost are just that. Yikes. How did that happen without me even being aware of it?

  A lock of overly long blond hair fell onto Rick’s forehead, and she smoothed it away. “How do I look past what I’ve always wanted?” she asked.

  He frowned. God, you sound like a shallow twit, she scolded herself.

  “Does it really bother you so much?” he asked, raking his hair back from his head with tattooed fingers. The move revealed the shaved sides, but then the strands separated, falling all over the place again.

  Aubree swallowed hard and reached out to touch the coarse hairs decorating his chin. Then she drew back as though she’d done something unforgivably intimate. Her mind fought a pitched battle against itself, reacting viscerally to the rugged, unrefined appearance of the man in front of her, even as his natural attractiveness teased her with the edge of arousal. “You confuse me, Rick,” she said at last.

  “So I see. I guess I’d better back off and let you think, eh? You can’t tell me what you want if you haven’t decided for yourself.”

  “That would be a good idea,” Aubree agreed, her sensible side winning even as her lady bits whined in protest. Well, Rick’s not shy to ask me questions. Maybe I should ask him some. After all, if I want to understand what I want, I should be able to ask, right? What made you decide on this look?” she asked, stroking his messy crest of hair again. “You’re right to say it bothers me. It’s far from the image of a polished businessman I’ve always considered to be my ‘type’, and yet I know how important a person’s image is to their identity, so I have to wonder what prompted this.” Worried she might have sounded like an airhead, Aubree tried to explain. As she fumbled for words, her fingers slid through his hair again. “I don’t know why it makes such a difference to me. Obviously hair is just hair. I’ve changed mine often enough, but I worry, you know? A professional reputation is like a tower built of pie crust; fragile and precarious. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be seen as a serious professional, and if I date someone who looks like a bad boy…”

  “I think you may be reading a bit more into it than the decision really warrants. You see, property in Cali is super expensive. Just to afford rent, I had to have two roommates, and they were a couple of young surfer types in their mid-twenties. One was a tattoo artist and the other, a chef.”

  “You modeled your look after a couple of kids?” Aubree asked, surprised.

  “Not really. Now, listen, Melville, I’m baring my soul here. Do you want to hear it or not?” Though his words sounded harsh, she could tell by his teasing tone that he was playing again.

  “Yes, of course,” she replied, opening her eyes up wide and blinking rapidly.

  He snorted on a chuckle. “Silly girl. Anyway, it wasn’t that exactly. I had been seeing someone for quite a while. I had… expectations, but the relationship ended. One day I woke up and realized that my forties were passing fast and I’d been single for way too long. I felt old and lonely. This particular look is not unusual to see in LA, so I decided to try something new, try to jump start my life, you know? I felt like I could pull it off there. I see that this town is a bit more conservative, so maybe this hipster look isn’t going to be super good for my career. I’m not married to it or anything.”

  Aubree considered his words. What would he look like with a different hairstyle, and clean-shaven or with tidier facial hair? She tried to picture it, but couldn’t. Would it make a difference? Hard to say. I hate to think I’m that shallow, but I’m afraid the evidence is against me. Guess I am. She closed her eyes again, and as before, his enticing scent teased her out of her head and into the reality that here, in front of her, sat a man who might just be a lot better than she’d thought. On the one hand, he’s objectively handsome, intelligent, a self-made man, ambitious, not afraid of change. He’s a self-starter, like me. I can feel he won’t try to control me, and he already has the kid he wants and won’t ask for more. Plus, Liz is grown and won’t be hanging on him all the time. Nothing to give me pause. On the other hand, he reminds me of my dad, on the surface at least. Messy. In Dad’s case, he was also terribly passive, catering to an overbearing wife, with only a lame 1980s car for a hobby. That doesn’t sound like what I know of Rick so far. Besides, if
I didn’t want to date him, why would I still be having this conversation? Why wouldn’t I have tuned in him out long since? I’m still talking, so on some level, there must be some part of me that wants this. A decisive throb from between her legs gave her one clue. Yes, I know you’re neglected, but you don’t get to make the decision, she informed her vagina.

  “So,” Aubree said, trying to focus on the conversation again, and not on her overwhelming horniness, “you’d consider a more conservative look?”

  “I’ve been considering,” he replied. “Though I hardly think it’s as important as you think it is. You’ve build your reputation on hard work and excellent customer service. All the people I meet sing your praises as the local girl who made it. They won’t turn up their down-home noses because you date a guy with a beard. I mean, this area is full of farmers and ranchers.”

  “Touché,” Aubree admitted. “Or almost. I mean… yeah, those guys have beards, and even long hair, but they don’t have these.” Her fingertips trailed over the tattoos on his knuckles. Since we’re having this super-nosy, intimate conversation, what’s up with all the ink? Was that also a rebellion against middle age?”

  Rick sighed. “I was afraid we’d get here sooner or later, not that I regret them, but they come with a much longer story. Sure you want it?”

  “Do you want me to consider dating you?” she asked.

  He lifted one golden brow. The move reshaped his cheekbone in a way that had her lady bits quivering. “Are you considering?”

  She repeated his earlier words. “I’ve been considering, but I haven’t come to any definite conclusions. If you want me to go out with someone who’s totally not my type, I need to understand why this…” she touched the tattoos again “should not concern me. How many do you have anyway?

  “Not as many as you might think. I know the hands might seem a bit extreme, but there’s a reason for them. And apart from that, I have three others.”