Not A Chance (Sweet Nothings)

by Carter Ashby

  Travis tried not to laugh. "I was just going upstairs to find some blankets and pillows."

  Suddenly Arden's eyes narrowed and she drew herself up taller. "I am not sleeping with you, you presumptuous bastard."

  "Obviously. I gave up on that dream thirty seconds ago. Will you stop acting insane please?"

  "Insane? I'm trapped in an abandoned house with some strange man..."

  "That's just it, Arden. I'm not a strange man. You and me have lived in this tiny hick town all our lives. We go to the same church, for Christ's sake. We're even friends with some of the same people...although certainly not at the same time. All I'm saying is, drop the kidnapped princess act and let's be like normal people for tonight. Okay?"

  Arden's face was red and hate beamed from her eyes. Travis felt kind of afraid. But then her expression changed and she seemed to back down. "You're right," she said. "I'm sorry. I'll try to behave more graciously."

  Travis stood stunned.

  Arden seemed to pick up on his doubt. "I'm serious. I know you're right and I'm sorry. It's just, I don't socialize outside my tiny circle of friends very often and I'm clearly not good at it. I'll try to keep quiet. Okay?"

  Travis swallowed and glanced away. "You don't have to be quiet. Just...stop being mean."

  Arden smiled warmly and nodded.

  "So...is sleeping with me back on the table now?"

  She grew wary and lifted her chin. "No, Mr. Lanier. It was never on the table."

  Travis drew himself up tall in mock indignation. "Well, Miss Butler, I think you'll change your mind." Then he gave her a grin and a wink and went upstairs to find blankets and pillows to sleep on.

  CHAPTER THREE

  They woke up that first morning starving. They rummaged in the kitchen cabinets and found lots of little, moldy balls of stuff. But they also found some canned foods and sealed up pantry items. They sat across from each other on the floor checking expiration dates and sorting out anything that looked or smelled spoiled.

  “Wish I’d gotten stranded with Shannon Murphy,” Travis muttered. “She could probably whip up five kinds of pie out of this.”

  Arden glared at him. “Well I wish I’d gotten stranded with Russ Murphy. Because he would have killed a rabbit or something by now and made us a stew.”

  Travis seemed unperturbed. He continued to study the mish-mash of would-be ingredients.

  "I think we can rig up some pancakes," Travis said, gesturing to a group of ingredients that included flour, creamed corn and baking powder.

  "Don't you have to have eggs or something?" Arden asked.

  "I don't know. If I eat breakfast I eat at the diner. Or Sweet Nothings whenever Dustin drags me there."

  "So you can't cook?" Arden sat back on her heels and rubbed her upper arms.

  Travis glanced up at her. "Nope. I was kind of hoping you could."

  "Me?" Arden asked. "The princess? I have people who do that sort of thing for me."

  Travis gave her a wry smile. "We'll figure it out together," he said.

  They found a cast iron griddle and put it on the coals in the fireplace. Then they mixed their ingredients in a bowl they'd found until they wound up with a thick mess of something resembling batter. It stuck to the griddle and they burned the first batch, but they started figuring it out after that and by the third try wound up with some fairly edible corn cakes.

  They ate with their fingers on the living room floor in front of the warm fireplace. Travis was thoroughly happy for the moment. Of course, he was a live-in-the-moment kind of guy. And this moment felt warm and communal and peaceful.

  "What kind of pie is your favorite?" Arden asked him without looking up.

  Travis frowned in thought. "Apple, I guess. But only if Rita Hendricks makes it. She may look like a hardened career woman, but she’s got a serious Martha Stewart streak in her."

  “Apple pie,” Arden shrugged. “That’s very all-american of you.”

  “‘Course Mrs. Tomlin...do you know her?”

  Arden nodded.

  “She makes a mean peach cobbler. So that might be my favorite.”

  Arden was suppressing a grin, now. “You sure?”

  He thought for a moment. “You know, little Amy Simmons made a blueberry pie for her 4-H cooking project last year. It had this layer of cream cheese stuff on the bottom. That was pretty damn good.”

  “Little Amy gave you a pie?”

  “Well, yeah.” He shrugged.

  “She’s eleven.” She was grinning and maybe trying not to laugh.

  “Well she can bake as good as the grandmas around here.”

  Arden shook her head. She took a monstrous, very unladylike bite of her corn cake.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing. It’s just cute, that’s all.”

  He grinned, then. “So what’s your favorite pie.”

  "I like coconut cream," she said, with her mouth full. "But I don't know how to make it."

  "You don't know how to make pie?"

  She shrugged. "I don't know how to make anything. Do you?"

  Travis shook his head. "I manage to find food to eat. But I'm not sure how."

  "We should take a class. They have classes in the city."

  "Or you could just watch YouTube videos for free."

  Arden nodded. "That's a great idea. I'm going to find one on how to make pie."

  "I wonder if there's any instruction on survival cooking." Travis licked the cake crumbs from his fingers and then leaned back on his hands. Arden did the same.

  "I think we've got that down pat." They leaned forward and high-fived each other.

  Boredom and full bellies led them back to their pallets where they dozed off.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Arden woke up later that morning. She was facing Travis's pallet, but he wasn't there. She glanced up at the couch. He had pulled off the plastic cover and was lounging with his feet up and reading a romance novel.

  "What are you reading?" she asked.

  He turned the book and showed her the cover. A full-bosomed woman was clinging to a bare-chested man. Travis waggled his eyebrows at her. "Pretty hot stuff. June has boxes of them down in the basement." He nodded toward the door that led into the kitchen. There were two boxes sitting next to it.

  "You're reading romance novels? Is this something you do often?" She took note of the fact that he was already nearly halfway through it.

  "Not often. Just whenever I'm snowed in at a place where there aren't any car magazines or thriller novels...and with a chick who won't sleep with me."

  Arden rolled her eyes. It had taken her a while to realize that he was hitting on her strictly because of gender and geography--she was the closest female. Once she'd figured that out, she'd managed to relax. It would be easy for her to resist a man who had no feelings for her other than a general lust for the female half of the population. Arden had never been interested in casual sex. Of course, if she had, Travis was exactly the kind of man she would have picked. And there was nothing wrong with admiring the physical beauty of another person so long as you didn't indulge in inappropriate fantasies.

  "You know," Travis said, his eyes still moving back and forth over the page. "I think I'm actually going to check out some more modern romance novels. They're written by women, after all. I could probably pick up some good tips."

  Arden gasped. "That's shameful, Travis."

  "Is not." He looked genuinely offended. "Next time I hook up with Kristen I'm going to try page fifty-six." He tossed her the book. She caught it. "I think she'd like page fifty-six."

  Arden found the page and read the scene. She felt her face turning red. Her mouth hung open. "This is completely ridiculous. Not realistic at all. No man would ever do that for a woman."

  Travis chuckled. He slid down to the floor, sitting with his back against the couch and reaching for his book. She kept it, though, as she was scanning for more evidence of purely fantastical sex scenes. "It sounds to me like you might bene
fit from reading this with the fiancé."

  "I would never," Arden said.

  Travis shrugged. "You kids are young. You'll figure it all out. Might be nice to jump start things, though."

  "Nick and I are just fine..."

  "Or maybe he's just a selfish bastard."

  "How dare you!" Really. It was none of his business and she couldn't believe she was having a conversation like this with a complete stranger and a man, no less. She also knew that talking about sex often led to having it. Perhaps that was his plan all along, the conniving bastard.

  Travis reached forward and snatched his book back. He leaned against the couch and went back to reading.

  Arden pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She looked around the room. "There's a pretty hot scene on page 129," she said.

  He didn't comment but skipped forward to the suggested page. She glanced up at him occasionally while he read. The corners of his lips quirked up and he slowly lifted one brow. "Nice," he said, finally. Then he looked up at her, those cool blue eyes burning hotter than hell. She looked away.

  "Do you do that sort of thing with...with women?"

  Travis chuckled again. "That's a bit personal, don't you think?"

  Oh, now he decides to play coy, she thought. "What the hell else is there to talk about? Besides, here you've presented yourself the expert on the subject, out of the two of us anyway. The least you could do is enlighten me."

  "Oh, I'll enlighten your socks off, princess," he said. And before she could take a breath he'd leaned forward on hands and knees and pressed his lips to hers. It was a quick, soft kiss, but as soon as he pulled away, she found herself trembling and her breath rattling in her chest. He was sitting back on his ankles right in front of her now, grinning like the devil. And then his grin faded as he honed in on her lips again, this time threading his fingers into her hair and pulling her toward him by the back of her head. She parted her lips involuntarily, but just as he was about to kiss her, she gasped and pressed her hands against his shoulders to stop him.

  "I'm engaged," she whispered.

  His lips hovered over hers. Their noses touched. "I won't tell," he whispered, and tried to kiss her.

  She shoved herself back until there was several feet of distance between them. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't want to do this."

  He sat back, then, his back against the couch. "Would it help if I said please?" he said in a business-like manner.

  Arden pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. "No," she said, unable to disguise the laughter in her voice.

  "I'm really good," he said. "I'll guarantee you two...no, three orgasms before I get mine. How 'bout it?"

  She shook her head and tried not to laugh. "You're terrible."

  She was sitting on the blanket she'd slept on. He reached forward, grabbed the edge and pulled her closer to him. "Come on, now. Surely we can work something out. You go through June's novels and pick you out something real nice and I'll do it to you. Huh? Sound good?"

  She laughed then and he grinned at her. They were sitting close together, legs crossed, their knees touching. She forced a serious expression onto her face. "You could never satisfy me," she said. This flirting thing was a lot of fun. She'd never done it before.

  "Sounds like a challenge, to me," he said, winking at her. He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ears and looked down at her lips again.

  "Don't even think about it," she said. This time she scooted back.

  "Sounds like all I'm allowed to do is think about it." He leaned his head back on the couch and closed his eyes. "Oh, yeah," he said. "That's good, baby, take it all off."

  "Stop it!" she shrieked, slapping at his legs.

  "Oh God, don't stop," he groaned before the grin spread across his face again and he laughed and tried to block the blows Arden was reining down on him.

  "Bastard!" she laughed, still swatting at him.

  He laughed and caught her by the wrists. He swung her 'round and pinned her to the floor beneath him, trapping her hands above her head. She was still laughing and squirming. When she opened her eyes her laughter faded. She was suddenly struck by the fact that she was playing with fire with a man she barely knew.

  He stared hard into her eyes. "Things are serious, now," he said. "What do you say, Arden? Nobody has to know." And the way he undressed her with his eyes made her light up all over so that for a brief second she was genuinely tempted to say yes.

  "I would know," she said, before that temptation could expand any further. "I won't cheat on my fiancé."

  He kept her pinned for another moment. She didn't struggle, knowing he would back off as soon as he realized she was serious. His eyes narrowed briefly, assessing. Then they softened into a sad sort of smile.

  He rose to his knees and extended his hand, pulling her to a sitting position. Then he leaned back against the couch. "You change your mind, just let me know," he said.

  "I won't. But thank you for the offer."

  He shrugged, picked his novel back up and started looking for the place he'd left off. And for some reason she felt a sudden emptiness.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  On the second morning, sunshine streamed through a crack in the drapes and spilled directly into Travis's eyes. If not for that, he might have slept until noon, like he had the day before. He squeezed his eyes shut and rolled over, the mattress squeaking beneath him. The day before, he and Arden had dragged the queen size mattress down the stairs from the master bedroom. It was a good suggestion on Arden's part and may have had something to do with his grumbling about the floor hurting his back. Thirty-four...surely that was too young to be complaining about bodily aches and pains.

  Travis sat up and glanced at the other side of the mattress. She slept soundly, looking profoundly beautiful with the early morning glow of the sun brightening her skin and casting shadows over her face. She had the blanket pulled up to her chin. He might have enjoyed fantasizing about the body underneath, with its soft subtle curves, but he knew that she was fully clothed and likely to stay that way.

  The evening before they had played Monopoly and she had drank wine that she found in the kitchen cupboard. She'd asked why he didn't drink and he told her about the alcoholism. She'd surprised him by digging for more information. He wound up telling her way more about his past than he'd intended. He'd watched her the entire time, making sure she was truly interested and that her sympathy wasn't condescending or fake. She'd nodded along and empathized with him. She'd even told of a friend of her father's from out of town who had an alcohol problem.

  It was a comfortable visit. Maybe it was because neither of them gave a shit about the opinion of the other. Maybe that's why they were so relaxed and comfortable together. Maybe getting all the sexual teasing out of the way earlier had lightened any tension they may have been dealing with.

  He wanted her. No doubt about it. But she knew that and didn't seem to care. And she obviously didn't want him back. So they wound up falling into a companionable acquaintanceship rather quickly. Now she was sleeping and he took the opportunity to appreciate her beauty. She wasn't ice on the inside after all. She tried. But really she was playful and sexy and interesting. Maybe if they were snowed in long enough he could get in her pants.

  She started to stir, so he stood and stretched, not wanting her to know he'd been gazing adoringly at her. His breath caught as she stretched and moaned and arched her back. "What time is it?" she asked in a groggy voice.

  "Nine-thirty," he replied.

  She exhaled and slowly pushed herself up. Then she smiled. "Sunshine!"

  "Yes, cupcake?" he replied, grinning.

  She rolled her eyes and stood and walked to the window. "Jeez. I've never seen that much snow, before. Look, it's blown in a drift all the way up to the window."

  He joined her. It was deep, for sure. The sun would go a long ways towards melting some of it. But there was no way they were making it back to the road and getting the truck
out of the ditch today.

  She looked up at him and opened her mouth.

  "Probably not today," he said, before she could ask.

  She closed her mouth and frowned.

  "Hey," he said. "If you're missing the warm embrace of your dear lover Nick, I'd be glad to fill his place for a while." He held out his arms.

  She glared at him.

  He dropped his arms. Okay, she's not in the mood for it, he thought. For that matter, he wasn't either. There was nothing pleasant about wanting a woman you couldn't have. If he could, he'd go up to Rowdy's bar and play pool with the guys and try to pick up a woman there. Lots of desperate thirty-somethings hung out up there. And Travis needed a thirty-something. Or a forty-something. Not a twenty-something with too many life lessons to be learned before she'd be stable enough for a relationship.

  Just as he'd decided to turn and walk away, he noticed that her glare was gone, replaced by a rather vulnerable uncertainty. She was gently biting her bottom lip and staring at his chest. That's more like it, he thought.

  He took a half step closer and leaned against the window. She looked up, meeting his eyes. She swallowed and he tried not to grin at her. Poor little princess wanted to be held and protected. He could do that. He would love to do that. "You okay?" he asked, reaching out and touching her shoulder. She glanced down at his hand and then back up to him. She nodded.

  And then surprise of surprises, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. Elated, he wrapped his arms around her waist and took a deep breath of the amazing scent coming off her hair.

  She was rubbing his shoulders and back and running her hand up the back of his neck and into his hair. It felt amazing. Sent tingles down his back. Made him achingly hard.

  "You're a good man, Travis," she said. And there was something about the way she said it. The certainty and firmness in her tone. So that suddenly she wasn't the one being held and protected; he was. He gasped as his eyes suddenly stung. She kept stroking his neck and hair and back. He squeezed her tight against him. "I mean, a really good man," she said. "I hope you know that."