“You catch anything yet?” Ben asks before handing me a beer and sitting in the chair next to me.
“Nope. Nothing is biting, but this beer tastes good. Lan, you have that bottle of whiskey nearby? Pass it this way.”
“We should’ve brought some girls with us. I’m all for fishing, but you three aren’t going to do it for me in a few hours.”
“Really, Owen? Come on, you know you love us. Besides, I’d think your dick could use a night off,” I reply, taking a long draw from the bottle of whiskey.
After the week of tension in my house, I needed to get away. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a guy’s weekend out here, and with the weather warmer I figured it was time. Besides, Ben’s off for the summer and had no excuse to blow us off. He tried, of course, but Piper decided she and Ashton would have a girl’s night. I’m sure that is the only reason he relented and drove out here.
A few insults are tossed around before there’s an agreement that Owen has taken the title of Manwhore and run with it, while I’ve become all work and very little play the last few months.
Nabbing the first bite of the day, Ben is releasing his catch when Landon and Owen take their poles and head to the cabin to get the grill going. Grabbing the whiskey bottle from my out stretched hand, Ben takes a long swig before holding the bottle up in a toast to his catch, which is now hightailing it to the other side of the lake.
“You were right,” Ben comments as he ungracefully flops in his seat.
“As I usually am, but you’ll have to explain.”
“I’ve been all wrapped up in my life, I’ve been missing out. Man, fishing really does relax me. This house has been more of a project now that we’re living in it, than I ever expected.”
“I told you to just say the word and we’ll send a crew out to help you. No reason you should be living like that.”
“Yeah well, we have a wedding to pay for, in what nine months or something? I can’t afford both.”
“Consider it my wedding gift. Besides, you’ll pay for materials and I’ll cover labor.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
Standing from my chair, I reel in my line before answering Ben. “Ben, you’re my family, why wouldn’t I help you out? It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t get all hormonal on me and start crying in gratitude.”
“Fuck off.”
As we’re walking toward the cabin, Ben starts with a weird throat clearing sound. His steps slowing and then a few laughs under his breath replace the throat clearing.
“Ya okay there, bud? Allergic reaction to hanging with your buddies?”
“No, it’s just. Fuck, okay I promised Piper I’d ask you something and I hate not keeping my promises to her.”
Stopping, I turn to him. The sun is setting in the distance, casting a bright ray directly in my eye. Squinting, I search his eyes for a hint of what he could be planning to ask me. I’ve already agreed to be his best man so I’m not sure what else there could be for Piper to push him to talk to me about.
“Okay, well ask away.”
“It’s about … well, fuck this is awkward. I feel like my dad should be having this conversation with you.”
“Please don’t tell me your parents have more changes to their plans. I love your mom but I can’t add another piece to their project. We’re already four weeks behind and…”
Putting his hand up to stop me, Ben shakes his head. “No, it’s not their house. My parents are very appreciative of everything you’ve done.”
In the distance, I can hear Owen calling us pussies and telling us to hurry before the burgers disintegrate. We both look his direction, me flipping him off and Ben waving.
Taking a deep breath, Ben continues, “Fuck it. Are you in love with my sister? There, I asked. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Let’s eat.”
Watching Ben’s back, I hesitate for only a second before I ask his retreating back,
“What if I was?”
“Excuse me?” His posture is different than just a minute ago. Gone is the annoyed undertone of asking me a question coming from Piper, and in its place is confusion laced with a heavy dose of, well, I think it’s anger.
“I said, what if I was?”
“Are you? What the fuck, Jameson?”
“Dude, I don’t have a fucking clue.”
“You better explain yourself, man. That’s my sister.”
I’ve known Ben most of my life. I’ve never seen Ben angry or want to punch someone. Well, that’s not true. He and Tony Dominguez had quite the rivalry in high school, but it wasn’t until last year when Ben started seeing Piper, and Tony was poking around, did I ever see him want to physically punch someone. Ben’s not that guy. Or, at least, he wasn’t. But, by the look on his face and the way he’s flexing his hands, he might be that guy right now.
“Yeah, I’m aware of who she is. Look, I don’t know what I feel. I’m sick of acting like it’s nothing. You told me months ago, that if something happened it was okay. Has that changed? Am I no longer good enough for your sister?”
“What? No. I don’t know. Fuck this is a weird conversation. Damn my fiancé for putting me in this position.”
“Speaking of, why is this even a question?”
“I don’t know. She started talking about it that day at the bridal shop. She was going on and on how it was so obvious. I had no clue what she was talking about. You and Ashton are barely able to hold a civil conversation, let alone fall in love. Yeah, you’ve been getting along better since she’s been at your house. I just figured you were drugging her or something. Not that it’s okay to do that but still, she’s been less of a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, I’m not drugging anyone. We have been getting along and I guess somewhere along the way we started being friends.” Running a hand down my face, I try to mask the smile that tends to appear anytime I think of Ashton. I contemplate telling Ben about Doris’s Tavern and the fight Ashton and I are in. “Look, I don’t know that I even feel anything for her but I do know that I like hanging out with her and care about what happens. I just don’t want to keep secrets or act like I’m hiding something.”
“I appreciate that. Look, you’re grown adults and it’s nobody’s business but your own. Just don’t hurt her, okay? Ashton plays tough and bad ass but she’s not. She’s always had confidence issues and not the best of luck with guys. If you start something up, just be good to her. Okay?”
“Always.”
The weekend at the lake was therapeutic in more ways than one. Getting away with my buddies and fishing is always guaranteed for a good time. Having the short but honest talk with Ben was not so much a good time as eye opening. I need to figure this out and try to understand how Ashton is feeling.
The downside to being gone all weekend is the amount of work I finished. Mostly because that amount is zero. While I arrive at the office before anyone else on a normal day, today I’m here before the sun rises. Most Mondays the coffee in the office is plenty to get me going. Today, is not that kind of Monday. After picking up a very large Americano with two extra shots, I settle in to the piles of paperwork on my desk.
The chaos that was a dozen separate piles of unorganized paperwork has been condensed to seven stacks of organized chaos. Minnie has been a savior and I’m relieved to have found her. She’s not only wicked smart, but her kindness is evident in the way she speaks of her family. Owen has made his attraction to her obvious and she’s managed to shut him down with only a look and a few short and, perhaps slightly threatening, words.
By the time Minnie arrives at nine, I’ve met with the crews, threatened to fire Owen, and taken those seven stacks of organized chaos down to six. Progress at its finest. Thoughts of Ashton and our argument linger in the back of my mind. I need to come up with a way to get back in her good graces. To apologize, again, for overstepping. But, what I want to do is figure out why I care so much and the answer to Ben’s question.
Love. A single word made up
of four letters. A single word that makes most grown men want to run for the hills.
Normally. For some reason, I’m not running; that must mean something.
By lunchtime, Minnie and I have made tremendous progress and I send her off for a much-deserved break. She tried to convince me that she should work through her lunch to keep the momentum going, but the reality is, I need a break. I don’t think I’ve worked this hard in the office in, well, ever.
Pushing away from my desk, I rummage through the cabinets of snacks and processed foods. Nothing looks remotely appetizing. I should run out and grab something, but if I do that, I’ll likely find my way home. Opting instead for a Styrofoam cup of processed noodles with a sodium count enough for a week’s worth of food, I pull back the lid just as the door slams open, bouncing off the wall.
“How much do you love me?”
“Depends, is that Rosa’s I smell?”
“Yep.”
“Like a brother.”
Owen tosses a bag my way as I simultaneously toss the sodium cup in the trash. The bag is still warm, and by the weight of it I can tell it’s a burrito with the works. My favorite. Neither of us speak as we pull up chairs at the long table in the middle of the room. Plans for the Sullivan’s house are pushed aside as we both devour our food.
“Dude, thanks for bringing me lunch. I left the house at o’dark thirty and wasn’t awake enough to pack one.”
“No biggie. I hoped the hottie with the body was still here and I could make her blush a little more. Where is she anyway?”
“Her name is Minnie and you have to stop with the shameless, and embarrassing, flirting. She’s not interested, O.”
“I figured since you were doing whatever it is that you and Ash are doing, the office girl was fair game.”
“Ashton and I aren’t doing anything and please call Minnie by her name.”
“Fine, Minnie. What the fuck kind of name is that anyway?”
Just as I’m about to answer him, in walks the woman herself.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s short for Minnesota. Jameson, I know we’re swamped this afternoon and making progress, but I just got a call. I need to go home for at least a few hours, if that’s okay.”
“Take the afternoon. No worries. Text me if you need tomorrow off also.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Silence lingers in the room as the door closes loudly. Once I can no longer hear Minnie’s footsteps, I look toward Owen, who is still staring at the door. Throwing my trash at his head, I stand to wash my hands.
“Don’t throw your shit at me, asshole.”
“Me? The asshole. Stop fucking talking about Minnie, Owen. She’s an asset to this company and I’m not going to lose her because you have diarrhea of the mouth.”
“Relax, man. Fine. But, one more thing.”
Turning to face Owen while drying my hands, I nod for him to continue. “Minnesota?”
Laughing, I throw my paper towel toward the trashcan. Swish, no net. “Yep, it’s on her driver’s license.”
“I bet that’s a fucked-up story.”
“Yeah well, maybe if you stop treating her like a prize at the fair she’ll tell us one day.”
That gives me an idea.
“Hey, what do you have planned this weekend?”
“Nothing, why?”
“I think it’s time for a good old-fashioned cookout. Introduce Minnie to the girls. I think she needs some friends.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m outta here, going to head over and meet the inspector at Mr. Kaplan’s. When do you and the old guy meet at the Sullivan’s?”
“Thursday,” I respond as I take my seat at my desk. “Paul and Patty get home next Tuesday.
“I guess that means Ashton is moving out next week,” he says with a smirk I’d like to wipe right off his face. I don’t respond as he walks out the door.
Ashton moving out. That’s not happening.
I’ve always read that it takes twenty-one days to make a habit. What I’ve never read is how long it takes to break a habit. Specifically, a Jameson habit. My Jameson habit isn’t only about the man. Nope, we can add to that his incredible bed, the pillows that feel like you’re lying on a cloud, and, if I’m one hundred percent honest, a shower that is worth the pain and suffering if I could only have one more day with it.
If the twenty-one-day rule is to be applied to the unbreaking of a habit, then I’m about halfway there. By the way I feel today, that twenty-one-day concept is a bunch of crap. Not only have I been moody as hell at work, I’m sleeping like shit, and haven’t worked out in close to two weeks.
Contrary to what Piper believes, I am not depressed nor am I sad. I will not allow Jameson to affect me that way. Ending our fling was necessary. Not only because he betrayed the friendship part of our arrangement by coming to Doris’s, but because no matter how strong I build the wall around my heart, he cracks it. I was in too deep and I cannot do that again.
Finding a note on my door last night after work was not the kind of communication I expected from him. Honestly, I figured at this point I wouldn’t see him until after I moved out next week. My parents get home in a few days and I’ve already started packing my things so I can move back home. Again.
Per the note taped to my door, “we’re having a cookout and everyone will be here around two.” Crawling into my bed after three in the morning is making noon feel a lot earlier than it really is. In the distance, I can hear a few male voices, a lot of cussing, furniture being moved around the backyard, and the lawn mower. So many noises this early and without coffee.
Since a shower is imminent, I opt for an oversized hoodie instead of a bra and wander into the kitchen for caffeine. The gurgling of the coffee maker indicates a fresh pot is brewing. Confirming the time, I look at the water level and see that enough coffee is brewed for only one person. This. This is the shit that makes those cracks.
Taking the first sip of coffee momentarily distracts me from the cracks in my carefully built heart wall and the ruckus outside. Opening the refrigerator, I inventory what “we” are serving today. I see some chicken seasoned and ready for the grill, a few corn cobs, and a few containers of various deli salads. Not too bad. My stomach agrees so I grab a slice of the leftover pizza also in the refrigerator. Hip checking the door to the refrigerator, I’m startled when I hear Landon behind me.
“Afternoon, Ash.”
“Shit! Landon, you can’t sneak up on someone like that.”
“Sorry. Hope we didn’t wake you. J made us wait until noon to do any work, said you got home late. I figured you weren’t working late if y’all were having us all over. You’re a trooper, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, so ‘we’ aren’t having anyone over. I didn’t even know he had invited everyone over until I got home after work. I think I’m actually going to skip this little shindig and go to a movie or something.”
“Why would you do that?”
Turning to the voice behind me, I lay my eyes on Jameson for the first time in two weeks. My heart drops, filling my stomach with butterflies and a sudden onset of nerves. I shouldn’t be nervous around him, but I am. Nervous he’s going to call me out for ignoring him and for not finishing our conversation on the side of the road. But it’s him who should be nervous. I’m still pissed and hurt, which I will gladly tell him all about. Just as soon as I get passed how damn sexy he looks and how much I want him to scoop me up in his arms and beg for my forgiveness.
“So, I’m just going to let the two of you … fuck, whatever, I’m outta here. Y’all are making me uncomfortable.”
Jameson and I both look at Landon, neither moving from our spot. Once the screen door closes, I walk to the cupboard and pull down a plate for my pizza slice. Slipping it in the microwave, I stand with my back to Jameson, watching the little plate move and the timer countdown. Taking another sip of coffee, I feel him behind me. I’m reminded of the many
times over the last few months that we’ve been in this kitchen. Cooking, talking, laughing, and kissing. The times he’s come up behind me just like he is now, each time leading to me being pushed forward and bent across the counter begging for an orgasm.
“Tell me why you’d leave, Sunshine.”
Saved by the bell, or timer in this case. Removing my plate from the microwave, I move away from where Jameson is standing and sit at the bar. Staring down at the now unappetizing pizza, I contemplate how to answer his question. I do that a lot more with Jameson now than ever before, think before I speak.
“I think it would be best. This is your home and this is your cookout.”
“No, you live here too and these are your friends as much as they’re mine. Come on, you know you love a good cookout.”
“Yes, I do love a cookout, and yes, these are my friends too. It’s just, well, considering everything, I think it would be best if I’m just not around. I’ll be moving home in the next few days and I’d rather not make this more uncomfortable than it has to be.”
Silence envelops the room. The only sounds are outside and the occasional rustling of my plate and cup on the counter. Jameson walks toward the back door. Good, he understands. That was a lot easier than I thought. Only, instead of walking outside, he shouts out to Owen, asking him to go get propane. A shouting response confirms that both Owen and Landon will go. Great, now we’re alone. And together.
Seconds tick by and neither of us speaks. I take the last bite of my pizza, but before I can stand he sits at the bar next to me. Closing my eyes, I will my breathing to slow. Do not let him see the effect he has on you. His hand lays on top of mine, fingers lacing the tops of mine. Slowly, I turn my head to look at him. Big mistake.
Tequila & Tailgates (A Country Road Novel - Book 2) Page 19