“You agreed we could get to know each other before, you know…”
“Wasn’t that just me who purged all over you a few minutes ago?”
She gasped when he nibbled her earlobe, wrapping her arms around his head at the sheer delight of his teeth on her skin. “But you still don’t know my favorite color.”
“Bet I can make you see colors,” he enticed, his voice husky and thick. In a swift move of hands and strength, Drew lifted her upward, sliding between her legs.
Her hand went to the back of the bench to steady herself when he pulled up her skirt.
Mel’s heart crashed against her ribs at the mere thought of what he intended and almost stopped when Drew hooked a finger in the leg of her panties and pulled them aside.
The first dip of his tongue against her aching flesh left her dizzy.
His moan, intimate and sinful, made her writhe. He stroked her with wet swirls, delving deep between the lips of her sex then withdrawing until Mel had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming her anticipation.
Heat coiled in her belly, electric and needy as he inserted a thick finger into her passage and drove it upward.
Colors were definitely involved, streaking behind her eyelids while she pressed down on his hard finger, desperate for the lashes of his tongue. Her hips rocked, gyrating against the hot flicks he lavished on her most intimate part, crashing against his mouth when he pulled her flush to his face and kneaded her ass.
Mel’s head fell back on her shoulders, and she clenched her teeth when orgasm threatened to rip her apart. Her breathing grew ragged, a harsh rasp in the silence of the tree house as the mounting pressure of climax exploded with the wet ministrations of Drew’s tongue.
She bucked against him, the sharp heat he evoked assaulting her flesh in wave after wave of fiery relief.
Sensing her release, Drew’s strokes slowed, his hard hands gripping her hips now softened and released her slowly. He slid back upward, pulling her back down to press her head under his chin and cradle her near.
Mel couldn’t find words for what had just happened. It was clear from the rigid line in his jeans he was as aroused as she’d been. Her head popped up, guilt and embarrassment left her stumbling on her words. “I—”
“I know. I’m awesome.” His grin was easy and confident.
“But—”
“There was nothing you could do. I returned my boxes of condoms in bulk. Costco’s employees have officially dubbed me a failure.”
Her chuckle was lighthearted. “I told you to keep at least one,” she chided with a finger to his chest.
Drew planted a kiss on her lips, lingering for only a brief moment.
“We did make a deal. What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t keep my word?” He settled her back down in his arms, massaging her back with firm hands.
Her smile was shaky against his chest when she whispered, “What, indeed?”
Mel’s heart shifted just a little left of her chest, as she lay with Drew in a tree house while the moonlight streamed through the Plexiglas window, and she savored the warmth of his secure embrace.
The more she learned about Drew, the more she discovered how wrong she’d initially been about him. He wasn’t just easy on the eyes.
He loved his son and his family with fierce integrity. He worked hard, and he was decent enough to be kind to a woman who loved booze more than her own son and had torn his life apart.
That was good to the core. It was honorable.
It was heart stopping.
Mel gulped.
No.
She couldn’t be.
She refused to be.
Yet, here she was. Fighting not to fall in love.
* * * *
“Look who’s glowing.”
“Look who waited up way past his bedtime to be sure his daughter met curfew.”
Joe snickered, pulling his glasses from his face to tuck them into the pocket of his bathrobe. “I figured you’d wanna know Jackie called, and you got a very serious-looking envelope in the mail. It’s on the table in the kitchen. And now, your old man’s going to bed.” Joe rose from his chair, grunting when his knees creaked. “And in case you were wondering, I like Drew. He has a fine sense of the funny.”
Yeah. Apparently, she liked Drew, too. Her lady parts really liked him. “He’s very witty.”
“And he sure likes you.”
Mel fought the urge not to gush when she asked, “Really? Says who?”
“Says the way his eyes gobble you up like you’re chocolate cake. That’s who says. The ballerina never did that.”
The ballerina never made her feel quite the way Drew did either.
“Well, don’t you go making reservations for doves and VFW halls just yet. He’s only the first man I’ve dated since my divorce. I feel like maybe I’ve locked myself into one particular brand of candy instead of foraging the candy aisle.”
“Good candy’s hard to come by. Count yourself lucky you haven’t had to eat a lot of cheap brands to get to the good stuff. Sometimes you just hit it right. Night, Milky Way,” he said before kissing her on the top of her head and ambling off to bed with Jake in tow.
Mel plunked down in the chair at the kitchen table and smiled at Weezer who buried his broad head in her hands. Buddy—we got trouble.”
He groaned his acknowledgment, his droopy eyes sweet with understanding.
She slid to the floor and Weezer sat beside her, putting his heavy paws in her lap. “I think my original assessment about Drew was wrong. He’s not just another good-looking guy. He’s deep, Weez. He’s kind to the elderly. He’s a good father, even if his views on dancing border on a phobia. He has a terrific family, and he’s got an ex-wife who could drive even the meekest to homicide. Yet, he won’t hurt her if it means hurting his son. What do you suppose I should do about how I feel, Weez?”
Weezer snored, sound asleep on the floor beside her. She stroked his enormous head before rising to catch a glimpse at the envelope her father had mentioned on the table and throw it in her monster-sized purse to look at later.
There were more important things at hand right now.
Like how she was going to keep her feelings for Drew on the slow track. If this was going somewhere, she didn’t want to rush it.
Looking back, she realized she never really knew Stan the way most married couples knew each other. She’d known his persona, and she’d fallen in her version of love with it.
She’d fallen in love with someone who’d only existed in her girlish fantasies. There were no knights in shining armor because by the time you hit forty, your armor was riddled with the dents from the slinging arrows of life. But she was realizing, tarnished armor, while it had pockmarks, also had characteristics that could only be acquired from life’s battles, and your scars either made you or broke you.
If this thing with her and Drew went any further, she was going to view it with the kind of realism he seemed to want Nate to see his mother with, minus the lollipops and unicorns.
Because unicorns could really yutz you up the ass when you choked on your lollipop.
Chapter 14
Dear Divorce Journal,
Sorry I’ve been on hiatus. I know, a month’s too long to hold back a good whine, but lately, I haven’t been whining as much as I’ve been doing more productive things. For instance, dating—chastely, of course.
You’ll be happy to know, Drew’s been a perfect gentleman and hardly ever cops a feel. Which, BTW, is going to be the death of me. I know I’m to blame. I did say I wanted to go slowly and get to know each other.
So, his favorite color is orange, but I’ve never seen him wear it. He hates broccoli because he says they look like miniature trees. He loves anything that involves sweat, a ball, and chicken wings with beer. Oh, and Elvis. Loves Elvis—which is fine. I’m all about some blue suede shoes.
He hates reality TV, but loves Medical Mysteries and Ice Road Truckers, which, when we watch, in turn makes me want to
do two things: Google every little ache and pain I’ve ever had, or scream, “What are you, a moron?! Ice isn’t meant for trucks that weigh hundreds of tons!” Chicken chow mein and steak are two of his favorite dishes. But he’d give those up forever for a big bowl of garlic mashed potatoes.
His favorite breed of canine is a bulldog because they’re manly but cuddly and he’s not opposed to cats. Now I ask you, what else do I need to know so this man will discard my stupid request to go slowly and take me like I’m his love slave?
Neil gave Mel’s ass a sharp snap with his towel as they finished up their workout at the rec center. “Wow. Hardly any jiggle, lady. What a difference a month makes, huh?”
Mel curtsied and winked, wiping the sweat from her brow with the towel around her neck. “That’s because you stole my jiggle. My can of chocolate frosting would like it back, please.”
“Not on your life. So tell me what’s new? How’s Drewww,” he cooed his name.
Mel turned her back to him, smiling secretly to herself. “Drew is fine.”
“Just fine?”
“He’s very fine.”
“Do I hear that giggly thing women do with the tone of their voices when they have the stupids for a guy?”
Hands on her hips, Mel gave him a condescending look. “You hear nothing of the sort. You hear a woman who’s treading carefully into this relationship with both eyes open and two ears peeled if she hears a single note of discord.”
Neil pulled her to him with a sharp yank, arching her backward so she was forced to look up at him. “Bullshit. I think you’ve got a crush, my lovely.”
Planting her hands on his chest, she smiled. “I’ve got a like. There’s a difference.”
“Well, it’s not a very big one in your case. It’s written all over your face every time anyone says his name.”
Grabbing her water bottle and her apple, she took a bite out of it.
“I’m that obvious?”
“Oh, obvious is an understatement, and you know what? Good for you. You deserve someone in your life who makes you this happy.”
“We don’t have a lot in common. Except making out. We’re aces at that.” In the car, after school, in his apartment during a movie when Nate was at a friend’s. At the Beef Barn’s drive-thru, and once even in the janitor’s closet. Oh, the making out they did.
“Ah, but are you learning to enjoy new things you never thought you’d discover because you’re so different?”
Her smile was ironic. “I have to admit, putting on a Giants jersey and screaming, ‘Knock that mother effer’s legs off’ while we eat chicken wings, sliders, and weenies in a blanket, then wash it all down with a beer can be therapeutic.”
Neil’s smile was wide when he brushed her hair out of her face.
“So two worlds collide, huh?”
“Well, he’s not doing a samba, that’s for sure.”
“But there are other concessions on Drew’s behalf?” Neil nudged.
“He sat through an entire showing of The Nutcracker Suite on PBS and didn’t squawk once. Okay, he dozed once or twice, but he was mostly present. Plus, he drove me to the mall to buy a dress for the staff cocktail party next week and even helped me choose the color.”
“So explain to old Neil how this isn’t a relationship? The mall is commitment, Dancer.”
She made a face at him. “It is not. It’s the food court where they have waffle cones. I had to buy him one when he got antsy once we hit the shoe department at Macy’s.”
“It’s okay to fall, Mel.”
Her hands wrung together, fear steeped like a teabag in her gut.
“We haven’t known each other long enough.”
“So does someone send you a memo when the allowable time frame to fall in love has passed?”
“No…”
Neil pursed his lips in disapproval. “There are no rules to this, Mel. Sometimes a connection happens, and sure, you can wait until the rules of society say it’s okay to make your feelings official. You can wait until Mercury is in retrograde. You can wait, wait, wait. Or you can give it a go just because it feels good and right.”
If only Neil knew the half of good and right she was feeling. “I’m afraid.”
“I see that. I also see the reason you’re afraid. You’re afraid that you’re doing the same thing all over again with Drew that you did with Stan. Too much, too quickly. But I think there’s a huge difference now. You’re a different person compared to the girl who married Stan. You’re newly independent. You make your own financial choices, and soon, you’re going to have your own place. Maybe making all those rational, responsible choices means you can rely on yourself to make smarter choices in other areas of your life, too.”
“We’ve only been dating a little under a month. I’m definitely not thinking about anything else but day by day.” And that wasn’t easy.
What she really wanted was to get to the day when they nailed each other again. Soon.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” a familiar voice said.
Mel spun around, her face splitting into a grin. “Jackie!” She flew at her friend, squeezing her tight. “What the hell are you doing in Jersey? Didn’t you say you weren’t a ‘Situation’ kind of girl?”
Jackie hugged her hard. “I did, and I maintain Snooki and I will never be friends. I just can’t get my hair to bump the way hers does. However, seeing as you never answer a phone, and I was feeling like I’d just die if I didn’t have some diner food, here I am. Surprise!”
Mel squeezed her again. “I’m so glad to see you!”
Neil poked his head between them, sticking out his hand. “Neil Jensen. The other BFF.”
Jackie laughed and took his hand. “Oh, I know all about you, buddy. I’ve heard the stories. So it looks like someone’s been working out.” Jackie gave a wink of praise while her eyes scanned Mel’s length.
“Courtesy of the other BFF,” Mel offered. “He’s killing me.”
Neil chuckled. “Yeah, but look at those abs, huh, Jackie? If you run your fingers down them, you could make music on ’em.”
Jackie grinned at her. “You look amazing, kiddo. And did I hear talk of a boyfriend? What a difference eight months makes, eh?”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s someone I’m seeing.”
“A lot,” Neil interjected with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
Jackie hooked her arm through Mel’s, the scent of her expensive perfume wafting to her nose and bringing with it comfort and familiarity. “So do you have time to talk now? Or do you have work? Have I mentioned how proud I am of you for nailing a job? So proud.”
Mel gave a quick glance at the clock and nodded. “Yes. Work calls, and I have to shower first, but why don’t we do dinner tonight and we can talk then.”
“Totally on me, of course, and bring the boyfriend. He needs a good Jackie once-over.”
Mel chuckled, taking her by the arm and leading her out of the rec center toward Neil’s car. “I’ll see if he’s free. And where are you staying? Last I checked, there’s no Four Seasons in Riverbend.”
Jackie gave a mock sigh, her lean face sharper in the sunlight.
“Tell me about it. I’m at the Marriott where I’m making sacrifices—big ones, in the name of BFF-dom. They don’t have twenty-four-hour room service. Heathens,” she joked.
“Make it snappy, kiddo. No time for girl talk now. Disgruntled geniuses await. Nice to meet you, Jackie,” Neil said, before getting into the car.
Jackie waved then pulled Mel close to her and whispered, “Have I got something to tell you.”
Mel’s stomach lurched. “Please tell me it’s not about Stan. I told you in our last conversation, I don’t want to know anything about him unless you have a firm location on him and some bleach and Hefty bags.”
Jackie tightened her turquoise scarf around her neck. “Fuck Stan. No one knows where he is. It’s like he’s fallen off the face of the planet, the coward. That’s not what I mean. I mean, I’ve go
t something we need to discuss. So bring your man-friend with you tonight because I’m dying to meet him, and I’ll leave you a voice mail with the name of the restaurant. God knows they have to have something that’s overpriced and isn’t called the Cluck-Cluck Palace in this town. If there is one, rest assured, I’ll find it. I have a reputation to uphold.”
Mel hugged her friend hard again and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“I so missed you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Off with you now—to your job. Your job. Have I said how proud I am?”
“You did, and know what? I’m proud of me, too.” Mel grabbed the handle of the car door and popped it open. “See you tonight.”
Hopping into the car, Mel waved at her friend, grinning.
Jackie was here.
Mel could only hope Drew was ready for the Jackie once-over.
Jackie was anything but subtle.
So tonight would be a real testament to Drew’s sense of humor.
And his cojones.
* * * *
Drew straightened his tie, uncomfortable as they stood outside Arthur’s, indeed, the most expensive restaurant in town. He frowned, pushing at the sleeves of his suit jacket.
He wasn’t a fan of overpriced restaurants that served steaks he could just as easily get at Chester’s for less than half the price. If memory served him, you paid for the experience.
His idea of experiences didn’t include waiters who scraped the crumbs from your table with a special scraper. This smacked of times better left behind him, and he was fighting the instinct to just let Mel and her friend have dinner while he watched the game and ate some chicken wings. With everything in him, he battled the issues of his marital baggage and forced a smile to his face.
“Everything okay?” Mel tilted her head up at him.
“I hate monkey suits.”
“But you look so handsome, monkey,” she whispered when he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. She brushed at the lapel of his dark suit, letting her hands come to rest on his pecs.
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