by L. B. Dunbar
I wonder what she’ll say. Who would she choose? Is it a choice?
“That won’t happen,” I huff, defending Roxanne’s opinion of me. We might not be on solid ground, but we’re getting there. I’m not in a rush. She isn’t a one-night stand to me, so I can take my time. I know she runs hot and cold with me, and adding physical trysts blurs some lines, but I don’t need a firm definition of us. As long as we stay a united front for Sadie, as she suggested, we’ll be okay. I believe that.
“Are you…dating? In a relationship?” The awkward questions make me laugh a bit bitterly.
“No, Dad. It’s complicated.” How very social media of me, and I don’t social media other than to market the pub.
“It seems like it.” He pauses a second, looking down at his polished shoes. My dad is a powerful man who can dress up or down and still have an aura about him that says he’s someone accomplished. I don’t know that I’ll ever feel that way. “I’m going to head back downstairs. I have a new granddaughter to meet.”
My brows rise at the sudden spark of enthusiasm in my father’s voice. Does he mean it? Will he give Sadie a chance? I stand and follow his retreat. If I ever had fantasies about taking a girl in that room, they’ve all been washed away by Roxanne on top of me.
Dammit. I can’t think of these things right now, and I instantly stop once I descend the stairs and reach the edge of the living room. My daughter is playing the piano with my mother. My father stands to the side of Momma, hand coming to her shoulder, and she reaches up to quickly pat it before returning her fingers to the instrument which was a wedding present from her mother to her. The younger Harrington generation wasn’t very accomplished as musicians, so it startles me to see Sadie’s nimble fingers racing over the keys. My eyes wander the room for Roxanne who stands on the opposite side, listening with an expression I can’t read, and worry even if I could interpret it, it wouldn’t be good.
+ + +
Eventually, I drive Roxie and Sadie home, relief hitting me hard once we leave my childhood one.
Well, at least that’s over.
As we pull into the parking lot behind the bookstore, the familiar feeling I always have when I leave the girls behind fills my chest. I don’t want to go home alone. Actually, I’d like to bring them to my house just outside of town.
Why haven’t I done that yet?
As I park, the truck idles, and Roxie reaches for the handle.
“Monday at three thirty,” I say as I nod to Sadie.
“See you then,” she says, slipping out after her aunt. “Thanks for dinner. It was…interesting.”
I chuckle at her sarcastic gratitude. “Just trying to keep it…interesting.” Then I add, “Hey Roxie, can you stay a minute?”
Sadie pauses, looking up at her aunt, and something silent passes between them. I decide it’s a girl thing, and I look away, glancing over the steering wheel while I wait. Sadie’s legs rush up the back steps, and Roxie climbs back into my truck.
“What’s up?” she says all casual, like she wasn’t just dry-humping me when my dad walked into my old bedroom.
“I wanted to check in about Sadie. Did she tell you she’d be working for me?”
“What? When?”
“Monday. At three thirty.” After Sadie told me about her possible connection to the bookstore and the flower shop robberies, I decide to anonymously cover the damages for each of the businesses. There wasn’t physical vandalism as much as property violation, loss of petty cash, and a level of distrust. Roxie’s struggling to understand Sadie. Hetty might not forgive. Talking to Clyde made it clear I need Sadie to pay in some way for what she’s done, even if only an accomplice to the thefts, and I need to start introducing her to the community with a title. “I’m going to start telling everyone who she is to me.”
Roxie looks over at me and arches one brow, so I clarify although she doesn’t need the clarification. “My daughter.”
She slowly smiles. “That’s awesome, William.”
Oh Lord, here comes the formality again.
“Well, Roxie…” I drag out her nickname. “I was also wondering if I might have the pleasure of your company for dinner this week. Just us.”
Her head shoots upward. “Like a date?”
Sure. “Yeah, sure, a date.”
Her mouth falls open, and I’m waiting for her to exclaim, I thought you didn’t date. She isn’t wrong. It’s just dinner, but we can call it whatever she wishes. Date as a label works for me. Instead, her mouth clamps shut.
“It doesn’t have to be fancy.” I pause. “On second thought, yes, let’s make it fancy. The Patio.” It’s a steak place in an old house near the municipal buildings. “Dress up.” I eye her full skirt. She has this boho chic look, as my sister calls it, no matter the occasion. Full skirts. Tall or short boots. T-shirts. Necklaces and bracelets. I like it all on her. I’d like it better off. “Let’s say Friday night.”
“I’m not sure I should leave Sadie alone.” We both know what she means. The concern she’ll run is real.
“Maybe she can spend the night at Charlie’s. Lucy’s just a little enthusiastic she has a cousin closer to her age.” I smile when I think of my niece.
“Nine and sixteen is a big difference, but yes, she did seem very receptive to Sadie.” Versus my mother, my father…
“I don’t really want to talk about tonight yet,” I say, looking back through the dark windshield.
“I understand.”
Does she? As I turn back to her, she might be the only one who can understand.
“But I do want to apologize for my father walking in on us. Don’t be embarrassed.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “It happens.”
“Really? How often have you been caught on top of someone in their teenage bedroom?” I tease.
“Oh, you know…a million times.” She’s mocking me, trying to make light of something I’m certain bothered her.
“My dad won’t give it a second thought. He’s used to it.”
Her head turns to me.
“Not from me,” I defend. “From James,” I clarify, noting the glare of those silvery eyes. Damn, I want to kiss her. Slide her over to me on this seat and then lay her back.
“Friday night? Say yes.”
“Okay,” she answers, sweeping hair behind her ear. Damn, I want to kiss her. I want to feel her under me.
She reaches for the door handle, but I reach for her forearm. “I’m sorry again about my room.” I don’t just mean my dad, though. I mean the fact we were interrupted.
“Sure, I’m almost having an orgasm, on your childhood bed, and you think I shouldn’t be embarrassed.”
“You were close?” I smile sheepishly. I never want to leave her unsatisfied, and I tug at her arm, forcing her to lean toward me.
“Weren’t you?” She cringes after asking as though she’s afraid of the answer.
“Fuck yeah. I was about to come undone in my pants, and I haven’t done that since I was a kid in that room.”
I lean forward and cup the nape of her neck, drawing her to me to take her mouth, allowing my lips to savor her before stretching my tongue forward and breaching the seam of her lips. She gasps at the intrusion, and I tug her closer to me. Her body presses against mine as best she can as we sit side-by-side on this seat, and then she snakes her arms around my neck. Our mouths move, but I want more.
“So you were close,” I tease against her lips. “Let me finish you.”
“Billy,” she groans, her mouth meeting mine with eager vigor.
“Climb on my lap again.” I press at her hips, moving her over me.
“Sadie’s upstairs. She’s waiting on me,” Roxie says, but her mouth continues to kiss me, not making any effort to release me.
“I promise it won’t take long,” I tease, knowing how quickly she comes, and with such ease under my fingertips. Her legs straddle my lap, and I reach for the lever to set the bench seat as far back as it will go.
&nbs
p; “People can see us through the window,” she states, pulling back, but I quickly follow, keeping our lips attached for another second.
“The windows are fogging.” It’s a natural screen. My hands skate up her thighs, massaging the muscle before hiking up her skirt and searching for skin underneath. As my fingers find her underwear, she’s as damp as she was over me on the bed. I slip two fingers inside the material and rush into her heat. She stills over me.
“Damn, woman. You are so wet.” I growl as I lean up for her mouth again. My fingers move, my hips rock, imitating what I want to do to her.
“Billy,” she groans over my mouth as her hips undulate, holding my fingers deep within her.
“I want inside you again,” I mutter, and she stills.
“Here?” she whispers, and I appreciate her hesitation. It’s sweet and a bit daring, and I wouldn’t give up this position if someone paid me.
“Right here, darlin’.” I press her back only enough to reach for my glove compartment and search for a condom. Tugging the foil packet forward, I set it on the seat and return my fingers to her, keeping her satiated while she fumbles with my belt buckle and unzips my zipper. I’m coming out of my skin, eager to enter her. The truck’s overheating with the engine still running and the heat blaring, but I’ll burn in hell in order to get her over me. She scrambles back enough to tug her underwear off from under her skirt, and I roll on the condom, my fingers shaking with anticipation.
Holding myself upright, I guide her back to my thighs and then press the tip at her entrance. We can hardly see with her skirt over my wrist and all our clothes still on, and for a moment, I realize this isn’t how it should be with Roxanne. It should be in a bed where it’s soft and warm and I can take my time, but her wet core presses over me, and I move my hand, allowing her to sheath me within her. She falls over me, swallowing me into her, and we both gasp.
“Damn, you feel so good, Roxie.” My hips buck, and her hand goes to the ceiling. The other holds the back of the seat as she moves in eager undulations, riding me. My hand comes to her hip, aiding her movements as I thrust upward, and she rocks over me.
“I just need—”
My hand slips under her skin, blindly finding her clit with my thumb, and she breaks as she does. Her mouth falls open, and her body stills, but her channel clenches around me, setting me off. I thrust upward, absorbing the friction, and find my own release, pulsing deep within her.
“Fuck,” I growl as my fingers dig into her hip and my eyes close, the jetting off within her like an endless stream. Thank goodness for the condom. Eventually, I settle, and when my eyes open, I find Roxie watching me. A small smile graces my lips.
“So…Friday?” I tease before releasing her from my lap.
“Is that a scheduled booty call?” she mocks.
“Nope, it’s a date.”
30
Questions
[Roxanne]
Sadie working for Billy means he won’t come to dinner as often as he did because his daughter will already be at his place of employment, where they serve food and can spend time together. These are the little things I’ll need to get used to as time passes. Sadie will spend more time with him, and him alone. And I’ll be back to who I was before her presence in my life every day. Alone myself.
Sadie’s apprehension the first afternoon is real, and while I want to stay away, told myself they needed space, I decide to break one of my unwritten rules and eat at the pub, hoping it will give Sadie silent support.
I’m here for you.
Clyde comes to my table even though he’s the bartender and not a waiter. “What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll just have a Moscato, please.”
He smiles and then helps himself to the seat opposite me. “Come to see how it goes?” He tips a brow and lowers his head. “When you spy on someone, you should really be incognito.”
Poor Clyde. He reads too many adult comic books. Rapping his thick knuckles on the tabletop, he excuses himself to get my drink.
I’m not spying. Well, okay, maybe a little bit, but Sadie doesn’t notice me as Billy walks her around the room, showing her the ropes. He also introduces her to enough people that the crowd takes the news and spreads it to the rest.
“Billy Harrington has a daughter?”
“That the girl?”
“Who’s the mother?”
Ah, Theresa. This isn’t how she saw it happening. Then again, she hoped Sadie would never know. When the time is right, my sister would say. I guess this is the time, and I watch Sadie move about the room looking up to Billy for reassurance with each order or maybe it’s the introductions. Whatever he’s saying, she slowly grins as he puts his hands on her shoulders when he talks to his customers.
She can’t legally serve alcohol or be in the bar past a certain hour, but a short three-to-seven shift a few nights a week won’t hurt. Maybe she’ll stop running to the cemetery.
Clyde returns with my wine, and I slowly sip while I peruse the menu.
“Hello. My name’s Sadie, I’m his daughter. Can I take your order, or do you need another minute? I recommend the pub burger. It’s delicious.”
Sadie’s face glows as she announces everything, her tone a little brighter than the melancholy teen she’s become. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating the paleness of her skin, but the makeup around her eyes is a little less thick and her mouth holds a deep red color instead of black.
Billy stands behind her, shaking his head with a smirk on his lips.
“Wow,” I say. I’m not certain she took a breath in her introduction. She exhales, and Billy chuckles. “Since it comes as a recommendation, one pub burger please with fries.”
Sadie writes on an order pad and then taps the pen to click. “Got it. I’ll go put the order in.” She walks off, and Billy slips into the booth for a second.
“That isn’t really how she’s introducing herself around the bar,” he says as something in my face must ask for clarification. “She’s amazing, though.”
Amazing.
He’s beaming himself, and his eyes spark with pride. This could have all gone poorly, but whatever he’s doing, she’s accepting. He doesn’t seem as anxious as I thought he would. These are good signs, good for Sadie.
“She’s excited to be here,” I say, although she acted sour about it before three p.m. She wouldn’t tell me how working for him came to be, especially as she’s declined working at the bookstore.
“So Friday…” He smiles sheepishly back at me. “Charlie offered to have Sadie over. Pizza movie night or something like that.” Billy rolls his eyes like Charlie is a dull man. “My mother wants both the girls to come to the house instead. She mentioned Sadie practicing piano.”
As the evening ended at the Harringtons, Elaina invited Sadie to play her piano anytime and then made me promise Sadie would visit twice a week. As I hesitated, saying we’d need to coordinate with my work schedule, Billy volunteered to bring Sadie to his mother’s home, and Elaina even offered to pick Sadie up from school, all to which Sadie said, “You know, Dad, if you bought me a car, I could drive myself.”
She doesn’t have her license yet, and she only calls Billy dad when she’s sarcastic. A pregnant pause lingered before George Jr. chuckled. He said Sadie sounded just like Mati at that age, and Elaina hugged her.
Sadie’s assimilation into being a Harrington is happening a little too fast for me.
“That’s fine,” I find myself saying, although the pit of my stomach disagrees.
“You okay?” Billy asks, his forehead furrowing before we notice Sadie following another waitstaff person to a table.
“Yeah.” I sigh. It’s going to be okay, right? I tell myself this affirmation several times each day, assuring myself Billy Harrington means what he says. We will continue to work it out. He wants to recognize Sadie as his, and he’ll step up in all areas of need. We have yet to discuss a therapist. We have a lot of things we need to discuss, bu
t he interrupts my thoughts with a question.
“You aren’t going to cancel Friday, are you?” His smile turns seductive, and I recall what we did in the front seat of his truck.
“Oh no, I’ll be there for our date.”
Over the past day, I’ve decided it will not be a booty call. We will go out to dinner like adults. We will discuss Sadie without her being in the other room. We will work out details for the future. Perhaps it won’t be a romantic date, but it’ll still be a date all the same.
“Our date,” he teases and then winks, adjusting a knit cap on his head. He looks like an older skateboarder…and a troublemaker.
+ + +
Come Friday, I don’t know how to dress for our date. He said to dress up, but I don’t have anything nicer than my everyday clothes, which qualify as mix and match material. A shopping trip might have been in order, but I didn’t have the time, and with nerves in my belly, I decide Billy gets what he gets with me.
Within one week of Sadie working at the Pub, plus piano time with Elaina, I feel her slipping away from me. Grace tried to affirm this is the life of a teenager. Always so busy, she said. But the unease won’t rest.
She’s loving the job at the pub, meeting people who don’t care about her age or her status.
She’s the boss’s kid, they tease her, but she says they don’t mean it. They’ve all been so nice.
The connection has even helped her attitude improve a little. However, I’m giving the excitement of employment time to settle. I haven’t given up the idea of a therapist. Elaina offered me a number, and I made Sadie an appointment for next week.
“Am I babysitting?” Sadie asks as she lies on my bed while I fidget with an earring.
“No, Charlie just thought it would be nice for you to get to know Lucy, and I think Elaina wants to spend more time with her granddaughters.” It feels foreign to say the word. My own mother never got to meet Sadie. Sadie never knew my mother, and the thought makes me sad. They would have loved one another, and perhaps Theresa wouldn’t have been so hard had our mother still been here when Sadie was born.