Bourbon & Bonfires

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Bourbon & Bonfires Page 19

by Andrea Johnston


  “What is this ad you’re running?”

  Dad.

  “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. Why are you stalking the business on the internet?”

  “Your mother is driving me crazy. I’d like to apply for the position.”

  I laugh at my dad. Not because he’s applying for a job at his own company, but because I win the bet with my brother and sister. Those suckers better pay up and fast. “You’re hired. See you tomorrow at eight.” Dad ends the call with a loud laugh and shouting about his new job to my mom.

  “Let me get this straight. You bailed the kid out and kept it a secret from his mom who also happens to be your girlfriend.” Ben sits back in his chair, arms crossed against his chest with a look of either confusion or constipation. I can’t really tell at this point.

  “There was no bail, they didn’t arrest him. But, yeah, that’s the basics.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “I know,” I groan. “I didn’t know what to do. I felt like the kid learned his lesson, and he’s had a tough go of it, ya know. His dad bailed, and he got himself into some shit before they moved here. Plus, Addison was on her way back from burying one of her childhood best friends. It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Lying is never the right thing to do. Did you not pay attention to anything that has happened in the last few years? If you’ll recall, Piper and I lied for months, and it only caused a shit-load of problems. Jameson and Ashton? Yeah, those little lies didn’t cause a shitstorm,” Ben snorts. Those little lies caused us all a lot of grief. “And, fucking Owen, while he didn’t lie, he’s an idiot and we should all pay attention and not follow in his footsteps.”

  “Fuck off.” Owen says. I look to Jameson, and he shrugs in agreement. Somehow, my lunch with Ben turned into all four of us sitting around this table with sandwiches in our hands and each of them offering me some sort of advice.

  Dicks. My friends are dicks. They know I didn’t want to lie and normally wouldn’t. I’m fucking honest to a fault. I’m the guy who confessed my attempt to shoplift a pack of gum when I was seven years old before I even made it to the cash register. The guy who couldn’t turn a blind eye to watching kids cheat on tests in high school.

  To a fault.

  “You have to tell her,” Ben says, pointing at me with his sub sandwich in his hand.

  “I will. Tonight.”

  “Nope. We’re all going to be there. The girls will be there. You cannot drop something like this on her with the girls there. They will eat you alive.”

  Jameson has a point. Shit. The girls can be a little bit of a force. And honestly, they scare the shit out of me when they’re together. I love them all, and they are some of my closest friends, but they’re like a pack of wild animals, beautiful animals, but scary and sometimes salivating animals. And I’m grateful Addison has them.

  “I see your point, but I have to tell her. It’s killing me. I feel like the biggest piece of shit.”

  “Maybe the kid should tell her. It’s his gig. He’s the one wh fucked up,” Owen says before taking a large bite of his sandwich.

  “Owen, that may be the smartest thing you’ve said.” Jameson teases before Owen flips him off.

  The rest of our lunch is much of the same. A lot of advice, agreement from me that I should’ve been honest from the beginning, and the overall consensus that I grovel and beg for Addison’s forgiveness the rest of my life.

  As Addison and I walk into Country Road, hand in hand, I have never been happier. She’s jabbering away about her day, her free hand waving around dramatically. I realize this is one of the first times we’ve been out with our friends. We’ve had a few dinners here and there at each other’s houses or out at Jameson’s property for a fire. But tonight, it’s one of the first nights we’ve been out as a couple.

  “I’m not going to lie, I’m grateful your brother isn’t going to be here tonight. I’m sorry for the circumstances but don’t really need that level of stare down.”

  “Taylor doesn’t do a stare down; he’s your friend. But yeah, I get it. He’s a bit overprotective. Or maybe he’s just an asshole. Verdict’s still out on that.” Her sarcasm laces each word as she rolls her eyes.

  I laugh and pull Addison toward me, placing a kiss on her head. The moment our friends see us, we’re greeted with hugs from the girls and shots from Owen. I guess we aren’t easing into this at all. Thankfully, Mason will be staying at my parents’ house tonight, so he and my dad can go fishing bright and early tomorrow morning.

  The guys were right, tonight isn’t the night to tell Addison I’m keeping a secret from her. Tonight is a night to have fun, to be playful, and to show her about our life in Lexington.

  A life with good friends and even better times.

  This “fake it till you make it” concept is stressful. I’m trying my best to be in the moment, to laugh and smile with our friends. This is good for us. I hadn’t realized it until Landon said something the other day, but we haven’t been out much since we started dating. We spend most nights at my house because of Mason. That isn’t to fair to Landon and another reminder of how very different our lives are.

  Dan has been texting me non-stop since his voicemail earlier this week, and I’ve successfully avoided each time he’s called. His ominous warning that I would see him in a few days has had me on edge. Last night, the doorbell rang, and I jumped two feet in the air, scaring not only myself but Mason since he was standing next to me in the kitchen. Thankfully, it wasn’t his wayward father and was only the little boy next door.

  Landon commented on my edginess and tried to persuade me for a quickie before we left the house. I know us and if I accepted the offer, we’d never make it out. Instead, I waved him off, talking about hormones and menopause. He laughed and said my hormones made me sexy before he swooped me up in his arms for a panty-melting kiss.

  I should probably be honest and tell him what has me on edge. The fact that my ex-husband may show up in town is probably something I should tell the man who spends more nights in my bed than his own. I just can’t seem to find the words. It isn’t a big deal; if Dan lived nearby, he’d be around for Mason anyway. Well, I assume he would be. Never mind, he wouldn’t. Regardless, I know it’s ridiculous keeping this from Landon, but the idea of exposing him to my former life makes me nervous. What if the moment he sees the amount of baggage I’m carrying, he decides it’s too much? The fact of the matter is, I’m not convinced our time together isn’t temporary, and adding Dan to the mix seems like a sure-fire way to put an expiration date on whatever we have.

  “Hey, you okay?” Landon asks, gripping my thighs and turning me in my chair. My knees settle between his legs, and he rubs his hands up and down my jean-clad legs.

  “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about something.” I lean in and place a kiss on his lips before I realize what I’ve done. In public. My eyes widen and a smirk appears on his face. Before I know it, he’s sliding my chair closer and pulling me into a real kiss.

  With his hand in my hair, tugging me closer, I gasp and he takes that as an unspoken invitation to swipe my tongue with his. The connection is electric and sends shivers down my spine. Lost in his kiss, I don’t hear the cheers around us, but I do feel something hit my head and pull back. My eyes still closed, I embrace the tingle of my lips before slowly opening my eyes. Mischief and promises of more dance in Landon’s eyes as he stares back at me before picking up a straw that’s on the table next to us.

  “Stop throwing shit,” he scolds to the other side of the table.

  “I thought we were going to have to get you two a room,” Ashton says, smiling with her hands resting on her baby belly.

  Embarrassed, I drop my chin to my chest while covering my eyes. Landon laughs, and my head flies up to scold him, but I can’t. It’s funny. We all start laughing and with my head still down, Landon lifts my chin to face him.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, babe. That was the first time you’ve don
e that in public. I fucking loved it.”

  “I cannot believe we just kissed like that in public. I’m mortified. What if one of my patients saw me?”

  “Addison, if one of your patients saw you, they’d probably think you are one lucky woman to be able to get up on this,” Landon says, motioning across his body. I smack him and stand, declaring it’s my turn to buy a round of drinks.

  After a few more rounds of drinks, I’m laughing and teasing the group like I’ve always been part of this crew. It’s amazing how much these six people love and care for one another. Minnie and I are outsiders to the group, but I don’t think you’d ever know that looking in from the outside. I’ve missed having friends like this. It’s been years, before I was with Dan, that I had a true group of friends. Most of our socializing the last few years was centered around his career or Mason.

  I excuse myself to the restroom, taking my phone with me, hoping to at least text with Mason before it’s too late. Once I’ve finished in the restroom, I lean against the wall in the hallway and exchange a few texts with Mason. Before I darken the screen, I notice a new text under Dan’s name.

  Dan: I’m in town. I’d like to see Mason for breakfast. He’s not responding to my text messages. Please ask him to call me.

  Me: He’s already in bed and has plans in the morning. It’s been months, Dan. I think it’s best you and I talk first.

  Dan: Fine, I’ll come to your house in the morning.

  Me: No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s a coffee shop in town, Roasters. I’ll meet you there at 10am.

  Dan: See you then.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I should go back to the table, make an excuse, and head home. There’s no way I’m going to enjoy myself tonight with this looming over my head. Besides, I can’t see Dan with a hangover, and if I have one more tequila shot, it’s bound to happen. How Ashton convinced us we all needed to take a shot for her since she can’t drink is beyond me.

  By the time I make it back to our table, Ashton and Jameson have left. I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did. Being the only sober one in a group like this can’t be fun. I open my mouth to say I need to leave but don’t manage a syllable before Landon has my hand and is leading me to the dance floor.

  I recognize the song as one we danced to on New Year’s Eve and smile as I melt into his arms. This time we aren’t unsure of each other. We aren’t strangers drawn together by an attraction. Now we’re together, and our movements show how connected we are. With each beat of the song, Landon’s arms pull me closer, his hands wander, and my need intensifies. Dancing with him is the greatest form of foreplay. My heart races, my palms sweat, and I want to crawl inside him. My need for this man is greater than any temptation.

  “I want to leave,” he whispers as he sucks my ear lobe into his mouth. My knees buckle, and I can only nod.

  Clasping my hand in his, he pulls his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times. I know he’s texting Mr. Larson for a cab. I guess life in Lexington means you text your local cab driver. At the table, we say our goodbyes, and I tell the girls I won’t be at yoga in the morning. We all agree yoga the day after tequila may not be the best idea for any of us.

  Mr. Larson is waiting at the curb outside the bar when we exit. Sliding in the backseat first, I leave room for Landon, but he doesn’t accept it. Sitting so our thighs touch, his arm is around me, holding me close while the other drums on his thigh impatiently. I can’t help but laugh and give a little giggle as I place my hand on his. You’d think this was our first time together. I suppose in many ways it is. Tonight feels different. There’s a shift in our relationship, and as I peer up at him through my lashes, I have an overwhelming desire to lay my heart on the line to him. To tell him how I feel, to tell him about Dan. Most of all, I want to ask him to ignore my baggage and the drama. I want to tell him I don’t care about the age difference anymore. If he’s in it, so am I.

  I realize halfway home that we aren’t heading toward my house but toward Landon’s. I make a mental note to set my alarm to allow enough time to get home and change before I meet Dan. I’m not sure the car completely stops before Landon is tossing a few bills toward Mr. Larson and opening the door. He offers his hand to me, and the moment I place my smaller hand in his, he tugs me from the cab and practically sprints to the front door.

  Three steps in the door and I’m flying through the air and over his shoulder. I’ve read plenty of books with a fireman’s hold, but I’ve never personally experienced it before. It’s not nearly as hot as they make it out to be, but in my books the girl isn’t three tequila shots in.

  “This may not be the best idea,” I warn, causing him to abruptly stop and pull me down the front of his body. “Whoa,” I whisper, swaying a bit.

  “Shit! Are you okay? Feel okay?”

  “Yeah, just give me a minute. Don’t make a joke about me being old either.”

  “Baby, I would never. Are you okay?”

  I nod and that’s all he needs before grabbing me below my butt cheeks and lifting me so we’re face to face. A huge smile matching mine is my greeting. Instantly, my lips are on his, and we continue what we started at the bar.

  Lips. Tongue. Nibbles and licks. Each movement sends my heart racing and my hands flying. In what feels like seconds, our clothes begin flying, and I’m flat on my back on Landon’s plush bed. His hands glide over my skin, memorizing every inch. My hands mimic his movements and a predatory growl from deep inside him is my only warning before he leads me down the sweetest path of ecstasy.

  When he reaches for a condom I stop him. I’m on birth control, and we’ve been together for months. “Just like this,” I say as my hands tug at the waistband of his boxers. Eyes wide he gulps and grins as my hand finds his hard length and glides up and down. Once. Twice. Three times.

  “Fuck.” One word with so much meaning. Landon slides into me, and it’s the greatest feeling in the world. Nothing separates us. Tonight, in this moment, I believe in us. I believe in the words he says and those he hasn’t yet. I know in my heart I love this man. His heart, his soul, and his whole being makes me believe in every promise he whispers when he thinks I’m sleeping.

  His movements are slow, but my climax isn’t. I reach my peak quickly and another follows almost instantly. Sliding his arm under my knee, he lifts my leg over his bicep causing him to go deeper, filling me completely. I feel him growing inside me, a twitch and a moan from deep inside, and I open my eyes to meet his. A split-second passes and in that moment, I see it all.

  The love and devotion of one man for one woman.

  Him for me.

  Us.

  My reality is obvious—sleep is not happening. My mind is spinning with the what ifs of what I’m going to face this morning. Dan is here, in Lexington. His appearance isn’t what has me on edge, it’s the disruption of my bubble of happiness. He’s a soul-sucker and has the ability to make demands that are followed up with promises. I don’t want Mason distracted by the shiny offerings his father makes, offerings I know won’t have follow-through.

  I should talk to Landon about this. I should tell him Dan is here. He told me weeks ago I wasn’t alone. I have people, I have someone who cares about me and cares about Mason. But this is my problem, my baggage, not his. He has his own life and his own responsibilities; my ex-husband isn’t one of them.

  Like he can sense my discomfort and frustration, his arm tightens around me. Slowly I turn around so I’m now facing him, his arm loosely settled across my hip. I’ve never been one to sleep naked, and the nights we’ve spent together at my house, I make sure he’s at least in boxers and I have on a T-shirt and panties. But, lying here together with no one to catch us, the touch of his skin on mine sets my heart aflutter.

  The darkness of the room doesn’t allow me to see every line of his face, but here, in the moonlight, I see what is important to me. The kindness, the sincerity, the unspoken love of a man who deserves more than I have to offe
r. I want the world for this man. A man who selflessly cares for me, for my son, for everyone in his life. He gives and asks of nothing in return. Landon is beyond my wildest dreams. More than I deserve.

  I don’t know why the thought of that makes me cry, but it does. Silently the tears fall, and I watch him as he sleeps, eventually also succumbing to the sandman.

  “Babe, I need to talk to you about something.” Landon is sitting on the edge of the bed, his hair mussed, wearing only a pair of sweats as he looks at the ground. I’m on all fours, looking under the bed for my bra so I can get home and shower before I have to meet Dan but stop from the hunt to look at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Fuck, I hate this. I want us to be honest with each other. Can you come up here off the ground?”

  “I need to find my bra. I have to get home and . . .” I don’t finish my sentence because out of the corner of my eye I see my red lacy bra flung across the dresser. Huh. I walk over to the dresser and grab my bra, quickly putting it on and pulling Landon’s T-shirt back on over my head. I’m not going to do a complete walk of shame when I get home. “Okay, what’s wrong?” I sit down where he’s tapping the bed, trying not to show my impatience, but this is not the time for a heart to heart.

  Sometime around dawn, I realized my agony over Dan’s visit was giving him power, and I did not love that epiphany. At all. So, I’ve made a commitment to myself. I will not let Dan bully me or make empty promises. I’ll listen to what he has to say, but I’m giving him two options moving forward—be a father or leave us alone. I’m a little conflicted as to which I’d prefer.

  “I’ve kept something from you, and it’s fucking killing me.”

  Tilting my head in confusion, I look at our now joined hands as Landon takes another deep breath before spewing out his confession like it’s Sunday mass.

  “When you were at Henry’s funeral, Mason skipped school and broke into Spencer Garrison’s house. He was there with some shithead older kids, who by the way he is never allowed to hang out with again, and they left him. The alarm tripped, and when the cops got there, they took him in. He called me, and we agreed not to tell you since Spencer didn’t press charges. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t want to keep things from you, especially about Mason. I just . . . fuck, I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

 

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