by Kira Blakely
“Why would I do that?” I genuinely wondered. “Lola…” I tried to employ some sympathy here. “I think even you realize that you don’t love me. You just want me, and you only want me because I’m with someone else. Ask yourself why you suddenly feel this way after five years. Why didn’t you feel this way when we were together? I think you’ll—”
“I want you because you’re Connie’s real father!” Lola burst, breaking into a run for the church or the parking lot.
“What?” My heart leapt at the words. Was I? Could it be? Did she send a paternity test off without telling me?
I stood in a stunned pillar for about five seconds, and that was enough time for Lola to get a good lead. I followed her, but I didn’t run because I know Lola. She wasn’t really running away; she was just being dramatic. I’d never met a woman who lived so much like her life was a play. She stopped at the threshold of the church and looked at me longingly from over her shoulder, then pushed the doors open and let herself into the chapel.
I grimaced but I followed. I wasn’t in love with Lola. I wasn’t looking forward to this little scene. But I had to know if Connie was my biological daughter; I had to know if Michelle abandoned the party, and why. She had me hooked and she knew it. So I followed through the church doors and into the quiet, dark chapel where our friends had been wed just a few hours ago.
Lola stood at the altar, staring right at me and waiting for my approach. I hated how confident she was whenever she played with a man.
“You really did the paternity test?” I asked her as I strode down the center aisle, still strewn in flower petals. “And Connie is mine?”
Lola nodded solemnly and advanced to meet me in the middle. Her tears had mysteriously vanished somewhere between the field and the church. “That’s right,” Lola whispered. “And—you know—it made me realize that I’ve been holding back from you ever since I thought I had tricked you, and that Connie was Mike’s. I never let myself be real with you, so I had to hide.” She pursed her lips and gazed up at me, imploring. “I had to go be myself with other men.”
My mouth slanted to one side and I rolled my eyes by complete impulse. “You think your infidelities were all part of some coping mechanism?”
“Yes, Ace... they were. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” She gave up a little gasp, as if she needed air between sobs, but her eyes were as dry as deserts now. “I just couldn’t let myself be with you when I thought that everything between us was a lie. That our daughter was a lie.” Alarm bells went off in my head as Lola’s hands stretched up to her shoulders and she slid one green strap down to her elbow. She didn’t break eye contact with me, but I still saw her bare her breast in my peripheral.
Lola bit her lip and gazed up at me with this girlish, bashful face that I remembered from her every seduction.
But Lola was not bashful. It was just a face she put on.
“But our daughter isn’t a lie,” she whispered. “We have a daughter together, Ace.”
She took a step toward me, and I took a step back. I knew where this was going, and it might have been a tempting offer long ago. But there’s been way too much water—and men—under the bridge since then.
And I didn’t know Michelle back then.
Lola’s other hand stretched up to her other strap and was halfway through pulling it down when I intervened, stepping forward and seizing her hand in mine. She grinned, probably satisfied to ensnare me. “Don’t,” I commanded, gentle yet firm. “This isn’t what you really want, Lo. And it isn’t what I want either. You’re just... jealous. And a little drunk. And it’s a wedding. I get it.”
“I’m not talking about one night,” Lola hissed, glaring up at me. Nothing made her drop her masks faster than not getting her way. “I’m talking about the rest of our lives, Ace!”
“You had that option eight years ago, Lo!” I yelled back at her. It’s difficult for me to restrain my temper when someone else is yelling up into my face, even if it’s my now-topless ex in the middle of a goddamn church. “I was there. I remember what it was like. You can say whatever you want.”
“Are you telling me you don’t want this?” Lola asked, stretching one hand down between her legs, pressing it into the dirty fabric of her sundress. Her eyelashes drooped heavily over her lustful eyes. “Just one more time?”
I was as flaccid as an earthworm right now.
Lola leaned forward and whispered into my ear, “I’ll let you come inside me.”
One of my nostrils reflexively curled, and I wondered how many times she’d said that, to how many of my friends, my customers. I took the opportunity of her closeness to slip my hands under her straps, pushing them back up over her shoulders.
The sound of the back hall entrance clapping shut tore my eyes off of Lola and to my left.
My pulse hammered in my throat. It was Michelle. She wasn’t even trying to look at me; she had her arms bound around her midsection, like she felt sick, and she was rushing toward the exit.
Fuck. Fuck!
“Michelle!” I cried after her, untangling my hands from Lola’s top. Goddamnit! If she just saw us, it must have looked so bad! Fuck! My hands were under Lola’s straps, but it probably looked like I was pulling them down, not up. She was crowded against me with her damn hands buried between her legs.
I bolted after Michelle, who broke into a jog in her high heels, her gown hitched up around her knees. She looked like Cinderella in gold, fleeing the ball.
“Ace!” Lola called after me, but I didn’t turn.
Michelle hit the chapel doors and spilled into the foyer. She was against the exit door when I caught her, gripping the handle so she couldn’t let herself out without addressing me.
“We have to talk about this,” I said. “You can ask Lola. Nothing happened.”
“Let me out,” Michelle said through gritted teeth, shoving at the door. I held strong on the handle. There was no way she could open this door if I didn’t want her to.
“Lola just told me that Connie is my real daughter,” I explained.
Michelle looked down and her thick dark hair fell into her face. “Congratulations,” she whispered, jiggling the handle again. “Please let me out.”
“She wants to be with me.”
“Someone help me!” Michelle cried, pounding her fists on the door. “This asshole is keeping me trapped in here!”
I spread my hand over and down Michelle’s shoulder, down her back, twisting her to look at me.
“Hey,” I said, gazing into those chocolate eyes. “I don’t want to be with her.”
“Let me go,” Michelle said, flat and certain.
How could I convince her that I meant what I said? How could I keep her from walking out on me? Didn’t she feel this? Did she get chances like this every day? Because I didn’t.
I raked the knuckle of one finger down her soft cheek and I saw the way she inhaled, a sudden, soft inhale. I knew she felt what I felt and I came down, crushing my mouth against hers. She was so soft against my hardness, and I coaxed her sweet tongue out of hiding with my own. My palms ran up and down her back, pressing her deeper against my chest, and her neck flexed with the pressure of the kiss, letting us bind together. She loosened as I bound her against my chest and blood thrummed down to my cock and inflated him instantly. I knew she felt that, too.
Our lips parted and I stared down at her, waiting to see her reaction. My heart pounded and my chest rose and fell. It was only about five seconds of a kiss, but my body reacted like I ran up two flights of stairs.
Michelle’s eyelashes fluttered up and she held my gaze as she twisted the doorknob behind her back, spilling out into the open air, beneath the night sky.
My heart gaped open around the wound of her rejection.
She turned her back on me and scooped the gathers of her skirt into her hands, hobbling in her heels. She hobbled down the shallow cement staircase, down the sidewalk, and toward the parking lot.
“How are you going to ge
t home?” I called after her, reluctantly following. I knew that this was over, but I followed anyway. I still cared about her, damnit. I’m flesh and blood, not all machine. I’m not as simple as everyone likes to think.
Michelle paused, and my heart leapt. Maybe she would let me drive her home. Maybe that kiss wasn’t my last chance.
Then she delicately drew one leg up and pulled off her high heel. She did the same with the other and held them together in one hand. Barefoot, she continued. “I’ll walk,” she called over her shoulder.
“It’s six miles to Withers from here!”
“I can walk that,” she called again. “Thanks, anyway.”
She sounded like she really meant it and my lips pursed. Jesus, I wanted her. Even in the worst possible situation, where she had every right to turn into a screeching harpy, she tried to be decent and humane. My throat tightened. I can’t believe you fucked this up. You should have known Lola was going to make a play. She’s not unpredictable, Ace.
I watched with a lump in my throat as Michelle became a silhouette, strolling along the side of the road, her high heels in her hand.
The chapel doors lightly opened and shut behind me. I twisted to gaze over my shoulder and grimaced. Lola picked her way down the stairs to join me, fully dressed again.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” I exhaled through my nose and slanted a look down to her. I wanted to hate her, but I couldn’t. I knew Lola too well to hate her anymore. This was my mistake. Trusting her had been my mistake. You can’t hate a snake for biting you, can you? It’s the nature of the snake, and you should have known better. “Is Connie really my daughter?” I had to ask. “Did you really get back those paternity results?”
“Do you really want to know?” Lola asked.
My chest ached. That was answer enough. “Yeah,” I rasped. “I really want to know.”
Lola swallowed and nodded. “She might be yours. It’s possible that she is yours. But no. I never sent off the sample.” She shrugged and bound her arms around herself. “But it is possible.”
I guess she didn’t want to know for sure. Maybe I didn’t, either.
“Let’s just say that she is.” I put my arm around Lola’s shoulders and nodded toward the reception. Someone had lit tiki torches and the distant sound of laughter seemed to come from another world. “Come on,” I sighed. I gave her back a pat and dropped my arm again.
As we strode toward the reception, I scanned the dark road for Michelle, but she was gone.
Lost to me now, I was sure.
Chapter 10
Michelle
The sky above me slowly faded from twilight to night sky. Trees rose up on either side of the road as I made the trek back into town.
“I knew I should have stayed home.” I let my head fall down and laughed mirthlessly to myself. I couldn’t believe how right I had been. Why do I never listen to myself? I shirked off the outside world for a reason. It was a bitch. I knew I could trust the solidity of working. Of focusing on money. That was my template throughout law school and it’d been a flawless success. No heartbreak. No highs or lows. Just cold, impersonal assignments and appointments.
“I can’t believe I believed him.”
I’d been walking for about an hour, and a few cars stopped to see if I needed help. I waved them on. I didn’t need anyone’s help. Accepting a free heat coil was what had gotten me into this whole damn mess.
Now it was dark and no headlights dotted the horizon. I was alone. Just me, and the chirp of a million crickets, and the occasional spark of a lightning bug in the shadows. I talked to fill the desolate hum of the surrounding woods and walked over the soft, cool grass on the side of the highway.
“He begged me to come, and I told him that I didn’t want to get involved! I told him about Daniel, and then he brings me here, just so I can see some sloppy foreplay in the church with his ex? The one Chet warned me about? God!”
I had a feeling this night would have me on simmer for weeks.
Maybe it would be a good idea to hand off his case to another court attorney... but I could really use the money.
“I wish I’d known it would be this bad,” I grumbled. Here I had thought that I’d just be awkward and left out, but that turned out to be the best part of the whole damn evening. I’d spent my life awkward and left out. I could handle that. “But it’s my fault for coming,” I reminded myself bitterly. “I said no for damn good reasons—”
The light of a pair of headlights splashed down on the ground in front of me and I glanced over my shoulder at the approaching car, then looked back toward my destination. I could see the vague shape of uptown Pelham in the distance. These were the last two miles, I was certain. Most importantly, I’d be off the highway within thirty minutes, saving me the embarrassment of the entire wedding party passing by, asking me if I needed a ride, wondering what happened.
Please let this not be Andrew.
I heard the rumble and crunch of a slowing vehicle, but I continued my pace. I didn’t need a ride. I didn’t want to talk to anybody about anything. I just wanted to be left alone. That could be my tombstone.
She Just Wanted To Be Left Alone.
As the car continued its idle trek behind me, I twisted and glanced over my shoulder, then smothered the urge to roll my eyes.
Shit. It was a police cruiser.
As it coasted up to me, the passenger side window scrolled down and Chet’s face leaned so that we could make eye contact.
“Hey, there, pretty lady,” he called. His wheels crushed slowly along the road to keep pace with my feet. “How’d you get all the way out here?”
“I was at a wedding,” I explained lightly. Even though Chet had tried to warn me about Andrew’s enduring relationship with Lola, I still didn’t like him. I saw that dash-cam footage. He’d nailed Andrew twice with his elbow for no reason.
“Ah, shit, I meant to go to that.” Chet snapped his fingers with chagrin. “Why don’t you get in and I’ll take you on home? No sense in walking out here at night like this in that beautiful gown. You never know what someone might want to do with you.”
I glanced at Chet and thought about how true that was. He might have been obnoxious, and pushy, and an obvious narcissist but he had a car, and he wasn’t Andrew. So, he was perfect. He could get me off this road before the wedding party came through.
“That... sounds great,” I allowed.
Chet brought the car to a complete stop and pushed the door open for me. I let myself drop into the seat and Chet surprised me by leaning over me to close it, even though I was fully capable of closing my own door. His nose hung just above my cleavage for a few seconds and I tensed, but then he was gone, back into his personal space.
Okay, obnoxious, pushy, narcissistic, and slimy, but still better than Andrew.
Chet hadn’t humiliated me. Chet hadn’t fooled me. Chet hadn’t dashed my heart.
“So, carjacking?” Chet wondered as we cruised toward town. “Flat tire?”
“Asshole,” I explained brightly.
“Ahhh. Ace?”
“Yes,” I answered with a twinge of discomfort. Something deep in the pit of my stomach told me that I shouldn’t trust Chet, either. Talking about Andrew to Chet was a display of trust—but that twinge was buried beneath layers and layers of pain that I just had to get out. I had to talk to someone about it. “You were right about him.”
“I was?”
I pursed my lips and nodded, ignoring the surprise in his voice. It didn’t matter if he didn’t know he’d been right. It didn’t take back what I saw.
Lola crowded against him, her breasts pressed to his chest, his hands tangled in her top. Her hands down at their crotches, fondling either him or herself.
My angle hadn’t been perfect, but I’d seen enough.
“Yep,” I said, closing my eyes. I needed to rest. “He and Lola aren’t quite over yet.”
The cruiser reached the lights and storefronts of uptown Pe
lham, a quaint mixture of neighborhoods and businesses. I relaxed into my seat a little, knowing I’d be home soon, and I could bury my face in a tub of ice cream. I could turn on Netflix and let it cover the sound of unrestrained sobbing into Bubba’s worn, stuffed chest. Then a hot bath. Then bed. Bed for days.
“I’m real sorry about that, Michelle,” Chet said, twisting the wheel. The cruiser jostled gently through the Withers Community gate. “A woman like you deserves someone’s absolute and undivided attention.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, feeling nothing. “But it’s okay. I’m just going to go back to the way I’ve been for a long time.”
“Oh? What way is that?” We passed Andrew’s rancher and it stung. I forced myself to look at Chet, instead of looking out the window. How had he gotten so deep under my skin, so fast?
“How long has it been since you’ve been with someone like this?”
“Um, I last had sex in 2014...”
“I mean, like this.” He passed his hand back and forth between us.
I swallowed. “Never.”
“Me neither.”
I blinked away the reverie, letting it disintegrate and fall. “Alone,” I answered Chet solemnly, firmly. “It’s worked for years.”
“Don’t say that, now,” Chet chastised me in a gentle drawl. “Everybody needs somebody.”
We turned onto Mayhew and relief ballooned in my chest. This abysmal night was almost complete.
“I guess,” I said. But not me.
“Just give it some time, darling.” I shuddered again when he called me darling. “Ace is an asshole. It was better that you found out now, when y’all just started talking to each other. But there’s plenty of men in Pelham, and I bet they all want to be with a girl like you.”
Almost all of them, anyway.
“Thanks,” I allowed. I was really just trying to get through this conversation. I was almost home. “Maybe.”
The cruiser swooped around the cul-de-sac, where our homes nestled against each other, and Chet pulled into his own driveway. “Do you wanna come inside?” he offered. “Talk about it? You know what they say. Time heals all wounds... but, in the meantime, better cauterize it with some liquor.”