Dating Delaney

by K Larsen

  “Yeah, it was either that or Mr. Arrogant Ass,” I bark a little too forcefully. He shoots a look at me, narrowing his eyes, but then shakes his head and smiles. “We’re playing pool, would you like to join us?” he asks. Owen reappears with Ginny and they start handing out beers.

  “No!” I say while the rest of the group answers, “Yes!” in unison. Guess I’m overruled.

  Jake slips an arm around my waist and leans down to my ear. His breath is hot on my neck and ear, causing goose bumps to run down my arms. “I’m sure we can manage to get along for an hour, can't we?” he says seductively. I turn my head slightly, causing our noses to be inches apart. He’s so handsome it steals my breath away. Pull yourself together, Laney. It takes me a moment to regain my train of thought. “I guess,” I say dryly and shrug, inching back from him.

  We played pool with Jake and Owen for an hour or so. Everyone seemed to be having fun. Jake was distant with me but friendly with everyone else and the girls were eating this whole night up. Owen was a different story. Clearly a player and used to getting his way, he was overly flirty with my friends until one by one he learned they were all married and he set his sights on me. We were nearing the end of our fourth game and he was getting a little too touchy-feely for me. Every time I bent to take my shot he’d try and pat my ass or tickle my waist and it was irritating. I lined up my shot and executed it, sinking the eight ball. His hand slipped under the fabric of my shirt and onto my hip as I stood up from taking my last turn. I swatted his hand away. “Hey. Romeo. Quit it,” I bite out.

  “Oh come on. We’re just having fun,” he retorts, swaying slightly.

  “Apparently you are, but I’m not. Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?” I clip.

  Owen gives me his best puppy dog face and tries to pull me into a hug or more accurately to molest me. Gross. I put my hands up to keep him back.

  “Owen,” Jake barks, “Cut the shit man, she said hands off.” He steps up to us and gently tugs me backward away from Owen and into him, his fingers grazing my bare skin in the process and sending electricity shooting through me. I feel a little faint being pressed into his firm body. He smells so good.

  “He’s a little drunk, sorry,” he apologizes to me. I look up, damn, Mr. Attractive is tall. I have my heels on, putting me at five-eight-ish, but he must be six-foot-two at least. “Ah, thanks,” I mumble, lost in my own delusional fantasy.

  After much deliberation the girls choose the next bar they want to hit and invite Jake and Owen along. They find Owen amusing since he poses no threat to them. I find him irritating. I keep catching Jake stealing glances at me which doesn't make sense since he has been hit on more times than I can count since we’ve joined up. I’d never stand a chance with a man like that.

  The club music is loud and I’m tipsy and tired but don't want to spoil the fun so for a while I keep up with the girls on the dance floor. Owen, of course, is also on the dance floor trying to bust a move. He flails more than dances and we’re all laughing at him while dancing. He has a shit-eating grin on his face as he’s surrounded by gyrating women. Eventually I excuse myself to use the restroom, leaving Owen and my girls on the dance floor with him looking ridiculous but happy.

  As I make my way back to the dance floor I see Jake leaning against the wall by the bar. His shirt clings perfectly to his well-defined chest and arms and his jeans fit so well my mouth waters. If I were a more assertive girl I’d totally jump him right here, but I’m not. He lifts his chin at me when he sees me. His face looks how I feel: tired and ready to go home. As his gaze holds mine I change direction, deciding to give my feet a rest and stand with him. He has been nice so far this evening. Maybe he’s not that bad.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey,” he echoes, not breaking eye contact.

  The thumping music doesn't really allow for chitchat. I tear my eyes away from his and stare at the dance floor. He shifts slightly so that his arm touches mine and I freeze. It’s beginning to feel awkward just standing next to him without talking since we don't really know each other. I glance at him momentarily then push off the wall to go dance when he catches my hand.

  “I hope you aren't mad,” he shouts over the music.

  “What?” I shout back. God damn you, loud club.

  “I said I hope you aren't mad,” he tries again, leaning down closer to me. It’s totally unnerving having him this close.

  “About?” I prompt. His hand is really big and rough. It’s distracting that he’s still holding my hand. Distracting in a gloriously good way. He inches closer and I stop breathing.

  “Owen crashing your night out.”

  I look up at him and then out to the dance floor. The girls and Owen all appear to be having a blast.

  “Oh no, it’s fine really. They’re having a blast,” I say and nod to the dance floor.

  “And you?” he asks, his face still inching towards mine. Jesus…is he going to...? No. He wouldn't.

  “Me?” I croak barely loud enough to be heard.

  “Are you having fun?” he questions, watching me.

  “Oh, yeah I am, I’m just tired and they’re my ride home,” I explain.

  “If you want to leave, I can you give you a lift,” he offers.

  My heart speeds up. Alone in Mr. Attractive’s truck with him. He’s been fine so far, not a dick like at the house today. I am really tired and I know the girls won't leave until the bars close. Oh hell, why not? I can totally handle this. Just so long as I remember to keep my mouth shut the entire drive home.

  “Yeah?” I ask.

  “Sure.” He smiles, his perfect lips too close to mine. If I just lean in another inch I could feel them on mine.

  “Let me go tell them I’m leaving then,” I say and Jake nods at me as he pulls back.

  “Hey, Jake’s giving me a ride home,” I tell Becca. Ellie, Ginny, and Molly throw catcalls at me and waggle their eyebrows. I roll my eyes at them. They know me better than that.

  “Are you sure?” Becca asks.

  “Yeah it’s fine, I’m ready to go and so is he.”

  She eyes me for a second then nods her head. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” she teases.

  “What exactly wouldn't you do, Becca?” I joke.

  “Exactly!” she laughs and I do too.

  Jake

  If someone had asked me ten hours ago if Delaney Peters would ever be in my truck tonight I would have told them they must be delusional. Yet, here she is, walking quietly next to me as we head to my parking spot. The June air still gets a little chilly at night and with that shirt on and no coat she’s shivering slightly.

  “Cold?” I ask. Her face snaps to mine.

  “I’m fine. It’s not really that cold out,” she says nervously. Why is she nervous? Did I do something wrong already?

  I want to put an arm around her but I don't. I want to do a lot of things to her, but I won’t. Owen really pissed me off tonight, he knows I’m working for her and yet there he was getting all touchy-feely with her even after she made it clear she wanted his hands off her. Watching his hand slide into her shirt at her waist had made me see double. If I was honest with myself I’d admit it was more because I wanted my hand there, not his. When I’d pulled her back from his grasp, my fingers grazed the skin at her waist. Her skin was impossibly soft and warm and it’d made my dick throb in my pants. I’d give just about anything to feel more of that silky soft skin.

  “That’s me,” I point and beep the locks, grateful she doesn’t seem to notice me watching her. When we reach the truck I get her door for her and she stares at me curiously. “What?” I ask.

  “You opened my door,” she states in astonishment.

  “Is that strange?” I ask, not really comprehending the issue.

  “No, it’s nice.” Her lush lips are turned up in a tiny smile and I really want to kiss them. Taste them.

  “So why the face?” I ask.

  “I have a face?” she questions as her face screws up in
to a new look.

  “Yeah you’re staring at me like you’re shocked,” I chuckle. Her lips twitch in amusement.

  “I guess I just didn't expect it. It’s, ahh...rare for guys to be gentlemen anymore,” she lets on.

  “Yankees, you mean,” I tell her.

  “What?” Her nose crinkles with her response.

  “Northerners. I’m not from here, in the South, men have manners,” I explain.

  “Where are you from?” she asks.

  “South Carolina,” I state.

  “I’d love to live in the South. I’ve wanted to for a long time but... well, it just never seems to happen,” she says with hint of sadness in her voice.

  “Maine’s nice. I like it here,” I divulge.

  “Yeah...” Her eyes have a dreamy, far-off look in them. “But I want something new I guess.”

  “I can understand that,” I answer and close her door, make my way to the driver’s side, and climb in.

  “Thanks,” she says.

  “For what?” I question.

  “The ride home,” she explains like I should have known.

  “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

  The fifteen-minute ride to her house is silent except for the radio playing softly. She looks lost in her own little world, staring out her window the whole time. What on earth is going through that mind of hers? Occasionally she fiddles with her hair which distracts me from driving. I force myself not to stare at her like some whacko. I pull into her driveway, put the truck in park, hop out, and get her door for her. She chuckles at me when I hold my hand out to help her down.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “You. Southern charm. It’s cute.” She smiles. It’s a real smile. A knock-your-socks-off, light-up-the-room kind of smile and I’m already planning more ways to make it happen again.

  “Cute?” I ask with disdain.

  “Sorry.” She knits her brows together. “It’s very manly of you to be so chivalrous,” she says in her best serious voice. I cock my head left and laugh at her as I walk her to the door.

  “Well, goodnight,” I say.

  “Thanks for the ride. Ah, see you tomorrow.” She waves and I watch to make sure she’s inside before I take off. What a chump. I kick myself mentally for waving back when I really wanted to get to know her mouth better.

  Delaney

  I kicked off my shoes as soon as I was inside and got myself a glass of water. What a strange turn of events tonight. He kept stealing looks at me the entire car ride home. I don't know what to make of it.

  Ginny’s text comes as a welcome distraction.:

  How was the ride home?

  I laugh out loud. My girlfriends are relentless.

  ‘Quiet and uneventful. Get your mind outta the gutter.’ I reply swiping my thumb across the keyboard.

  No way! I like it there.

  Gross. Go to sleep.

  I chuckle at my response and smile as I turn off the phone.

  I plugged the phone into the charger, peed, and crawled into bed. Okay, so maybe Jake wasn't as bad as I thought. He actually seemed nice. Not that that means anything, I remind myself. Wilson jumps onto the bed and head-butts me. I scratch him behind the ears and sigh. He has perfect lips. Jake, not the cat. I wonder what they feel like...what they taste like. When I close my eyes and drift off to sleep I find myself dreaming about Mr. Attractive and all the things his lips could be capable of.

  The shrill sound of a table saw wakes me and I shoot straight up. Crap! I’m supposed to be in Wells in an hour to get Claire. How I slept until noon is a mystery. I jump out of bed and toss on a sweatshirt before heading to the bathroom.

  “Mornin’,” comes a deep voice. It startles me and I jump a little. I drop my hand from rubbing my eye and find Jake smirking at me just outside the kitchen. Seriously, why does this keep happening to me? I’m in too short cotton pajama shorts and a huge sweatshirt that hangs just a bit longer than the shorts, making it look like I’m not wearing shorts at all, and I’m sure my hair and face are a disaster. This is mortifying. Again.

  “Did you seriously just wake up?” he asks.

  “Uh, yeah.” My voice is still thick with sleep.

  “Impressive.” He chuckles at me.

  “Whatever,” I mumble and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

  I shower at lightning speed, grumbling to myself the entire time about my crap luck whenever Mr. Attractive is on the premises, dress and get ready, making it out the door with five minutes to spare before I need to be on the road. The forty-minute drive to the Wells exit goes by uneventfully, thank god. I pull into our designated meeting spot and shut down the car.

  “Mom!” Claire shouts and runs to me.

  “Hi babe,” I scoop her into a hug. “How was your weekend?”

  “Good. Daddy took me to the movies!” she gushes.

  “Fun!” I coo.

  “Hey.” I nod at Trent as Claire climbs into my car. “How was she?” I ask.

  “Good.” He hands me her bag. “She’s always good.” He leans into the car and gives her a kiss before shutting her door.

  “Good,” I say.

  “So, the week of your birthday I’m taking her for the whole week, right?” he asks.

  “Yeah, that would be great,” I state absentmindedly.

  “You look good, Laney,” he states.

  “Ah, thanks. I still think that calories are tiny little fuckers that live in closets, making my clothes smaller though,” I joke.

  “Well just keep running,” he laughs.

  “Okay,” I state, rolling my eyes at him.

  “Okay,” he repeats. We wave goodbye and get in our cars.

  “Are our rooms done yet?” Claire asks as soon as we’re back on the highway.

  “Not yet, baby, it’s going to be a couple weeks still,” I reply.

  “Boo,” she cries. “I want to sleep in mine tonight.”

  I laugh at her excitement and turn up the radio. We spend the rest of the drive home singing our hearts out together and not caring if anyone catches us.

  When we get home, Claire jumps out of the car and starts babbling on about some fort while running towards the tree swing in the backyard. I carry her bag inside, throw her dirty clothes into the washer, and start chili in the crock pot for dinner tonight as I mentally prepare for the upcoming week.

  Jake

  As soon as she was up, she had showered and left in a rush. I’d spent the better part of the night thinking about her even though I didn't particularly want to. There was something about her that I couldn't quite figure out. She was beautiful, sure, but she was hot and cold, too. I seem to be pulled to her. The more I see her, the more I think about her, the more I want to uncover all the layers she seems to hide behind. Maybe that’s just it. She’s hiding in plain sight, but from what, I can’t figure out.

  When she pulled back in an hour later I watched from the roof as a pretty little girl shot out of her car before she’d even killed the engine, squealing about something and running around the barn. Not that I had a good view being so far away, but she looked just like Delaney: beautiful.

  Bob and I finished up for the day around five. I’d only seen Delaney a few times in passing since she’d come home and I was actually feeling a little disappointed about it. Bob had taken off and I was just finishing cleaning up. I came downstairs and as I passed the kitchen my mouth started watering. Something smelled really good. I groaned and my stomach growled. Delaney’s head popped out from the kitchen.

  “Everything okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah, why?” I quip.

  “I thought I heard a groan,” she smirks.

  I smile, a little embarrassed that she heard that.

  “Whatever you’re cooking smells amazing, just reminded me how hungry I am,” I explain.

  “Ahh…makes sense. That’s my chili calling to you,” she chuckles. Her eyes are sparkling with amusement. “You done for the day?” she asks.
/>
  “Yeah, just loading everything up now,” I tell her while taking her in. She’s got her hair pulled up in a loose ponytail and she’s wearing a plain black cotton summer dress, but it fits her well, revealing nothing and everything at the same time somehow. When she’s like this, everything about her seems so effortless.

  “Can I check out the progress?” she asks, looking excited. It’s cute.

  “Sure.” I set my tool bag down and take her upstairs. She looks around, checking everything out, which isn't much really. Gaping holes in the roof for now.

  “Wow. This is going to be so awesome when it’s done. Look at the view and how much bigger it feels already!” she exclaims.

  I stand back and watch her. Her enthusiasm is intoxicating. It will be pretty amazing when it’s done and she’s right: the views from both bedrooms will be great. She spins around to me, beaming.

  “Yeah, it will be really nice when it’s done,” I agree with her.

  “Mooooom! I’m hungry!” yells a small, high-pitched voice.

  “I guess it’s dinner time,” she says. We make our way downstairs and a miniature version of Delaney waits at the bottom for us.

  “Hi. I’m Claire,” she chirps happily.

  “Nice to meet you, I’m Jake.”

  “Are you building our rooms?” she asks.

  “Yup.”

  “Are you staying for dinner?” she pushes.

  “Claire!” Delaney scolds.

  “What?” she asks innocently. Delaney and Claire exchange a look before she turns to me. It’s like they’re having a conversation without talking. How do girls do that?

  “Would you like to stay for dinner? It’s no big deal,” she says. The smell wafting from the kitchen is really inviting but I know she’s just being polite.