by Lisa N. Paul
“So there we were, just the two of us, putting the finishing touches on the outside lighting at the neighbors’ house. They were out of town, and I was packing up our supplies while my dad was fastening the sconces into the siding with the screw gun.” This was one of Decker’s favorite stories about his dad. Each time he told it, he relived the day, making his father feel not so far away.
Olivia had gagged the first time he shared this particular anecdote with her and rolled her eyes each time after. Judging by the way April listened to the things he’d said and engaged in their conversation thus far, he had a strong suspicion her reaction wouldn’t be the same as his former wife’s.
“It was my brother’s birthday, and my mom, while loving that Dad and I spent quality time together when he wasn’t working, requested we not take more than a couple of hours to do the job and return home. Delighting in our mutual love for all things construction, Dad and I got lost in the work and our time side by side, and before we knew it, the sun was setting and we were late. At first, I didn’t hear him.” Decker paused as much for a dramatic affect as it was to quench his parched lips. He rested his glass on the table eager to continue. “Between the clanking of the tools being tossed in the metal box as I cleaned up and the music blaring on the radio, nothing sounded off. But then I heard my name. It was a calm, lazy calling coming from my dad. ‘Decker, can you come here for a minute, son?’ April, I had no idea anything was wrong until I walked over and saw my father holding the power tool as steady as could be. When his jaw ticked, I followed his stare only to find he’d twisted the screw right through his index finger.”
April’s eyes flared as her jaw dropped. “Oh my God—”
Decker interrupted her before she could ask any questions. “My dad, in his calmest voice, said, ‘Deck, would you mind throwing the gun in reverse, please? Gotta get this screw outta my goddamn finger.’”
“Holy shit, Decker!” Her eyes were still dinner-plate wide but filled with awe and not disgust. “What in the hell did you do?”
“Umm, first, I put that motherfucker in reverse and helped my dad get unattached from the house. Then once I realized the man was okay—and he was totally fine, like ‘Oh shit, I got blood on my favorite flannel,’ fine—I nearly peed myself laughing.” Decker chuckled as he remembered that day. “I was fourteen, and we were a block away from home. My dad’s hand was bleeding pretty badly, so he wrapped it up in his ruined shirt and let me steer the car while he managed the gas. It was the greatest day ever.”
April’s hand flew over her mouth. Judging by the tiny creases at the corners of her eyes, the fiery woman was no doubt trying to hide a full-fledged smile behind her partial hand-mask.
Decker shook his head. “You should have seen my mom when we got home. First she was pissed that we were late, but as soon as she saw my dad was bleeding, she morphed into nurse-mode. Mind you, the woman wasn’t a nurse by trade, but when you’re married to someone in our line of work, injuries come with the territory. Anyway, once she’d cleaned him up and he explained what had happened, my mom went from gentle and sympathetic to Nurse Ratched in the blink of an eye.”
“Why,” April asked from behind her hand.
“Why?” Decker questioned, laughter ripping from his gut. “April, my dad got into a truck, while bleeding profusely, with his vertically challenged fourteen-year-old son and drove home with said son doing the steering. It was not his finest decision-making moment. The guy was lucky my mother didn’t screw his balls to the siding that night.” Decker watched as April’s dimples burrowed deeply into her cheeks. “Go on, beautiful, I can see the amusement just begging to come out.”
She was fighting to hold it back, he could tell, and he didn’t want that. No, he wanted her open and honest with real emotions from a real woman who wasn’t afraid to just… be.
“Let it out, April, before you explode.”
As if Decker’s permission had been the only thing holding her back, April erupted in peals of laughter. The husky, rich sound was like fine scotch, running warm through his veins and fueling his soul. Every part of his body was live and stimulated like the electricity in the story he’d just told. Each of her jagged breaths sent more blood to his already hardened length, making him more than grateful for the long tablecloth that allowed him to adjust himself subtly without calling more attention to the table.
“Oh my God, Decker, seriously…” April gasped for air between fits of giggles. “Vertically challenged? Is that how you referred to yourself?”
He watched as a large tear drop rolled unchecked down her cheek until it hit her plump red lips. Decker sat frozen, enthralled as her small tongue glided to the corner of her mouth to catch the salty laughter. Fuck me, he thought as his cock pulsed behind the confines of his jeans. He felt a sense of disappointment when she swiped the remaining tears away with her palm.
He shrugged. “Look, I was a… late bloomer. At least that’s what my mom used to call it. I didn’t hit my growth spurt until I was almost seventeen.”
April’s gaze morphed from hilarity to heat in less than a blink as she covered his hand with her own. “I’d say you bloomed just right, Decker Brand.” The words no sooner out of her mouth than the pink flush graced her cheeks.
“Why, Ms. Maddox, are you flirting with me?”
“Oh, hell, I hope so,” she admitted. “Because I really suck at this shit.”
“Mmm.” Decker shook his head, wondering how the hell he’d found her. “Beautiful woman, you have no idea how good at this shit you really are.”
April rubbed her lips together before dropping her gaze to their joined hands. He wanted to taste those lips, wanted those hands on his skin.
“Can I interest the two of you in dessert?” the waitress asked when she appeared at their tableside with the pastry cart and a smile.
“Ooo, I’d love something sweet,” April chirped, pointing at the chocolate mousse.
“And for you, sir?” the waitress asked Decker as she placed the dessert in front of April.
“I’ll just have some of her… err, hers.”
April grinned as the waitress left the table. Something sparkled in her eyes—desire, lust, intrigue. He wasn’t certain yet, but he intended to find out.
“Hmm, I’m not usually one for sharing my dessert, but I loved the story you told me about your dad and you. In fact, I kind of liked all of the stories you told me tonight. Since you’ve been so sweet…” April pulled in a shuddered breath as if she was summoning courage. “I’ll let you have a lick of me… err, my mousse.” Her cheeks depressed as her lips turned up.
“I’d love to taste your mousse, April,” Decker growled trying to figure out the logistics on how best to move from his side of the table to hers without the tent in the front of his pants becoming visible.
As if she could sense the desperation in his mind, April offered the perfect solution. “Would you like to move your chair a little closer to me so we can share?”
With his eyes practically glued to the silver spoon, Decker watched the utensil dip into the chocolate confection and move to the waiting channel of April’s lush mouth.
“To be that spoon,” Decker groaned as he took the silver from April’s hand, loaded it with more whipped chocolate, and lifted it to her lips. Fuck… just before she opened for the spoon, he leaned forward and finally claimed her mouth.
He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, tasting the apple gloss that had enticed him the whole evening. When he breached her mouth, his tongue sliding against hers, the sweet chocolate flavor mixed with something uniquely April, his heart punched behind his ribs, and he knew there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be—until he heard her quiet whimpers escape their joined mouths. Then he wished to God that they were anywhere else but at that table, no matter how tucked away it was.
The buzzing of a cell phone was like icy water on a campfire, making them quickly pull away from one another as the intensity of their kiss still crackled through th
e air. Scrubbing his hand over his roughened jaw, Decker watched smugly as April attempted to gather her wits when she answered her phone. The caveman in him was flexing his arms and pounding his club, proud to be the man to put that dreamy look in her eyes. Then it disappeared.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Her smile faltered then vanished, along with the color in her face. “Okay, I’m leaving now. I’ll be home in about fifteen minutes… bye.” April tucked the phone in her purse, slid her chair out from the table, and stood.
Decker felt a wave of nausea roll through his gut. There was nothing worse than getting a phone call from the person watching your child. “April, what’s wrong? What did your mom say? Is Eli okay?”
“Umm.” April rubbed her lips together, worry etched over her beautiful face. “She didn’t give me any details. She just said I needed to come home.” There was no doubting the complete despair bubbling in her small frame. “I’ve got to go, Decker.”
Even though he wanted to follow her out to the parking lot, he hadn’t yet received the check, so he couldn’t just leave the restaurant. “April,” he called, relieved when she stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. “Please call me tonight to let me know that you guys are okay?”
She nodded once and left him just as he’d started the evening—alone in Amore.
Chapter Nine
Everything Good Happens After Dinner
“MOM, I’M HOME.” April announced around the lump in her throat as she bounded through the front door of her house. “Where’s Elijah?” She did a quick scan of the family room, looking for her little boy, but found only her mother, Ellen, sitting comfortably on the sofa with a book in her lap. “Is he okay? You told me to come home.” Panicked, April headed toward the staircase. The need to see her child had her pulse thrumming in her ears.
“April”—her mother’s calm voice permeated April’s hysteria—“Eli is fine. He’s sleeping like the angel he is, so relax.” Ellen sighed and closed her book.
Relax? April thought as she ascended the stairs. Her mother’s phone call had shaved years off her life, and now the woman told her to relax? No, April needed to see her baby with her own two eyes before any relaxing could commence. Gingerly, so as to avoid the squeaky hinge, she opened her son’s bedroom door and crept into the softly lit room. When her eyes landed on the small form snuggled tightly in the middle of the bed, April felt as if the boulder she’d been lugging around for more than fifteen minutes disappeared, leaving nothing but dust and unpleasant memories of its existence. Breathing deeply, she leaned down and rested her hand on his back, a habit she’d started when he was an infant. After a few respirations, she placed a light kiss on his head and backed silently out of the room. Clearly her son was fine, so why the phone call during her date? Why the cloaked message asking her to come home? As she descended the steps, all of the fear that had surged through her body rapidly turned to frustration or, better yet, anger.
“Elijah is fine, Mom,” April shout-whispered as she closed the distance between herself and her mother.
“Yes, dear, I know. I told you as much when you got home.” Ellen looked perplexed by her daughter’s tone. “I’m not sure why you ran up there the way you did.”
April pulled in a breath, held it, and counted to five before exhaling. When no relief came from her tried-and-true decompression technique, she repeated the process once again to no avail, causing her anger to spike even higher. “Mother, I was out… on a date. A date! With a really great guy, and you called me and told me to come home. How did you think I was going to react?”
Ellen leaned forward on the sofa, resting her forearms on her knees, “And that is why I phoned you,” she answered confidently. “It was nearly ten o’clock, April, and you’d been out for several hours already. And if you want to get technical, it wasn’t a date being that you met him at the restaurant.” Ellen cleared her throat before delivering her final point. “And to be honest, nothing good happens after dinner.”
April squinted as she tried to make sense of the craziness her mother was spewing. “What?” April shouted as she paced the room. Quickly remembering that Eli was asleep upstairs, she lowered her voice as she stalked closer to her mom. With her hands fisted tightly, her palms aching as her nails broke the skin beneath them, she hissed, “First of all, regardless if he came to my doorstep or not, it was a date. I didn’t want him to pick me up because I’m not comfortable with getting Elijah involved, but more so, I didn’t want him to meet you.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the whole truth, but at the time, April didn’t care if she was leaving out details. She didn’t give a damn if her words hurt—she was pissed. “Second of all, everything good happens after dinner! What’s wrong with you?”
Shaking her head, Ellen rose from the sofa and walked silently to the coat closet to retrieve her jacket. She slipped her arms through the sleeves, cocked her head to the side, and stared thoughtfully at her daughter. “April, dear, why should any man buy the cow when he can get the milk for free? Think about it.” She zipped her jacket and headed for the door.
“So, now I… I’m the cow in your story?” April shook with frustration as she spit out her question.
“Oh, honey—”
“No, don’t ‘honey’ me. I’ve played by your stupid rules, and do you know what it got me? Do you? It got me Ben Spears. What a fucking prince he turned out to be.” She watched her mother’s reaction to her words.
It wasn’t the language that startled Ellen. The Maddox family had no issues with “bad” words, unless of course they were coming from a small child. No, it was the fact that April had stood up to her mother that made her frown with displeasure. Well, April thought, there’s a first time for everything, and tonight her mother had gone too far.
“You know what? I’m tired, and I’m finished with this whole conversation. Good night, Mother.”
“April—”
“Nope, all done listening. Thanks for watching Eli tonight. Talk to you later.” April walked her mom to the door, closed it, and locked it behind her.
Nothing good happens after dinner—the woman had clearly never had mousse. April grinned at the thought. Memories of the heated looks and sexy things Decker said floated through her mind, but their panty-melting kiss... mmm. April rubbed her cool hand around her heated neck.
“All the good stuff came after dinner,” she said out loud to the empty room as she walked to the kitchen, pulled out a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and soothed her frayed nerves in minty delight. “It sure as hell isn’t mousse, but it’s damn good,” she grumbled, popping the lid on the container and shoving it back into the freezer. She grabbed her cell phone from the table, turned out the lights, and headed for the stairs.
Thinking about the feel of Decker’s tongue as it slid over her lips and into her mouth had April shivering with need. Oh, wait, that was her cell vibrating in her pocket. She retrieved the phone and noticed she had two text messages waiting for her.
Decker: Is everything okay?
Decker: Babe, I’m worried
Staring at his words, April tried to articulate the answer to his question in her head. Another text buzzed through:
Decker: April…
Knowing his voice would provide comfort, a fact she was too scared to delve into, April’s thumb pressed call instead of reply on the small flat screen of her smart phone.
* * *
“THANK GOD,” DECKER exhaled in relief. “Is everything all right?” Seeing her name light up his screen filled him with solace and concern all at once. Hearing her voice after more than an hour of apprehension released a flood of words he didn’t have time to sensor. “I’ve been worried about you and Eli since you left the restaurant. I swear, April, it took strength I didn’t know I possessed not to follow you home tonight, and then the tenacity I’ve refused to claim but clearly have not to hop in my car and pound on your door just to make sure you guys were safe and healthy.”
She had given him her address earli
er in the week when the plan was for him to pick her up for their date, so having that information and not going to her was even more difficult. He couldn’t get her face out his mind. The haunted look that captured her eyes, the way the color drained from her cheeks, and how her lips quivered when she explained that she needed to leave.
He’d quickly paid the check and left the restaurant, only to pace in the parking lot while he processed what his next move should be. The grip on his cell phone tightened, as did his resolves not to call or text her while she was driving. Memories of his and Olivia’s last conversation surfaced from the recesses of his mind, the outcome clawing at his heart as bile churned in his gut. It was then he finally decided to go home and wait to hear from April.
When the hour mark hit and he’d heard nothing, concern turned into panic. He’d tapped out a quick text to April, hoping by mistake she’d forgotten to call him, but when the message went unanswered, he texted the babysitter, who lived in the same building and just a few floors down. He asked if she’d come back if need be, then sent the next text to April, then the third. He was reaching for his car keys and waiting at the elevator for the sitter when his phone rang. He slipped the sitter a twenty, mouthed, “Thank you,” and went back into the condo to talk to his woman. His woman? Yep, feels right.
“We’re good, Deck.” April’s confirmation allowed him his first full breath since watching her leave Amore. “I’m so sorry to have worried you.”
He could hear her exhaustion through her faked cheer, and every part of him ached to bring back the light that was in her tone while they were together. “Uh uh, no way, babe, tell me what happened with Eli or, better yet, the Queen of Orgasm Control.” The melodic sound that sputtered out of April confirmed Decker hit the nail on the proverbial head.
“Deck, I can’t even…” April sighed. “My son was fine, thank God. My mom on the other hand…” He heard her blow out another breath. “I just keep reminding myself that she loves me in her own very unique way. I swear I’m going to figure it out one day. Today just isn’t it.”