Liberating Mr. Gable

by Tuesday Embers

  Movement was finally reintroduced to his limbs, and he drew his fingers up and down her side slowly. “Since you’re obviously begging me to marry you, maybe we should talk about it.”

  Etta paled, hoping she had not scared him off for good. “Anson, please! It was a slip. I didn’t mean to say it! And I did no such thing!”

  “Asking you to move across the country without even talking about the possibility with you was a bonehead move on my part. So how do you feel about marriage?”

  Shaking her head vigorously, Etta refused to walk into the trap. “Oh, no. If we’re talking about this, you’re going first. You’ve been engaged twice. You know more about this sort of thing than I do.”

  Anson scoffed at the mention of his fiancées. “Fine.” He moved the straps of her dress off her shoulders and kissed the naked PG flesh he cherished. “You taste delicious.”

  “Yeah? You can thank your biggest fan Yva for that. I still feel a little sticky.”

  “If we got married, I would die happy. They’d bury me with a stupid grin on my face. You, forever? Like, legally on paper, forever?” His hand drifted down her side. “This forever? When you’re ready for that, just turn around, and I’ll be on my knee with a ring so big, you won’t be able to lift your hand.” He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear. “But if that’s not what you want, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”

  “But I’ll get old. I won’t look young forever. You’d really want to make love to me when I’m all hunched and wrinkly?”

  “You’re forgetting we’ll age together, little duck. And so long as you give me free access to your body in whatever stage of life it’s in after we’re hitched, I’ll be thankful. Perfect. Always perfect.” He kissed her neck, making the tips of his fingers at home in her cleavage. “Your turn.”

  “Hmm?”

  Anson sniggered at her closed eyes and willing body. “Nice try. I just spilled my guts. Your turn. Marriage. Is it an option for you?”

  “I honestly never thought about it.”

  “Not good enough.”

  Etta shivered at his touch and the promise of more. “Yes. Someday, when you’re ready. When I’m ready. Don’t know how to tell when that is, so good luck with that. Marrying you would be great. If you want to do that someday, I’ll say yes.”

  “I’m very good at getting you to say yes,” he observed. “I’m good at getting you to say all sorts of things.” He sucked on her neck, enjoying the bend of her back as she responded to his unhurried seduction.

  Anson in Action

  The next morning, Etta was infinitely less worried about the widespread news concerning Anson Gable’s new exhibitionist girlfriend. Jordan was there first thing in the morning with his laptop, firing question after question at Etta.

  She made eggs for Anson and Jordan as Jordan helped her come up with a decent résumé. Half an hour later, it was emailed to Jordan’s favorite headhunter. Etta knew the process was supposed to be more arduous than they were making it, but she did not complain. Anson devoured eight scrambled eggs with hash browns and peppers, not even noticing Jordan’s comical expression at his appetite. “So, what’d you kids get up to last night?”

  “All sorts of childish things,” Anson admitted with a mouthful of food.

  “Anson Gable!” Etta admonished, banging her wooden spoon on the pan. “Nothing, Jordan. We went to the charity ball thing and then came home.”

  “Come on,” Anson teased, taking a break from gorging himself so he could enjoy a sip of orange juice. “That’s the story for the press. Jordan’s family. He knows we were up to no good.” He grinned salaciously at her.

  Jordan laughed, elated to see the drastic change in his employer. It was a far cry from being greeted by an unshaven, unbathed man who had to stop their meetings every fifteen minutes to wash his hands three times. He had never seen Anson unburdened, and rather liked the look of it on him.

  Etta’s blush could be seen clearly from across the room. She stomped her foot and mustered up a convincing glare. “Sounds like you just volunteered to do the dishes.” She turned off the stove and spoke over her shoulder to Jordan. “You can give this statement to the press: This just in, Anson Gable’s former girlfriend joins convent due to Mr. Gable’s permanent residence in the doghouse.”

  Jordan pretended to type up the release. “I’ll send it right in.”

  Anson could not even try to look apologetic. Last night the love of his life survived in his chaotic world, and said yes to a hypothetical proposal. “Your first interviewer is scheduled to call in four minutes. Will you be ready by then?”

  Anson shoveled the rest of the eggs into his mouth and gave Jordan a thumbs up.

  Etta straightened the green dish towel hanging on the oven. “Do you have your movies here? If you’re going to be busy on the phone all morning, I’d like to see what you do.”

  Anson’s fervor was immediately muted. He nodded and got up to turn on the TV in the great room for her, locating his first major blockbuster on the menu. He kissed her as if he was afraid she would not want to be near him after witnessing him in action, and then left for the office with Jordan, shoulders hunched in concern.

  Etta settled in with her plate of eggs and watched in amazement the wonder that was Anson five years ago. As the movie progressed, it became the shirtless Anson show. Then when he finally nabbed the leading lady, there were several steamy make-out scenes that Etta hoped were somehow less passionate than their real life ones.

  When it was over, she fished through the TV menu for his name, pulling up a newer movie. This one was about World War II, and he was a soldier with a mission. She gasped at all the right parts, swooned during his brief lip lock with the blonde actress, and watched every bit of him the camera showed her. Her underexposure to the graphic nature of modern movies mingled with her love for her boyfriend. When he got shot at the climax of the movie, Etta had to look away from the man she loved. She was not sure how to get the image out of her head of him bleeding out on the street after his lady love double-crossed and shot him in the gut. She cursed all manipulative females while she watched through her fingers as her boyfriend died before her very eyes. When Anson came down in the last moments just before the woman was caught and gunned down, Etta nearly jumped out of her skin at his fingers combing through her hair.

  “Sorry!” he exclaimed, recoiling at her fright. “Are you okay?”

  Foregoing propriety, Etta turned and stood up on the couch, climbing over the back and into his arms, kissing his cheeks over and over. “Don’t die, okay? If you’re ever thinking about cheating on me with a Nazi woman you think might be a good asset, just don’t. She’s evil, and she’s packing heat. She’ll give you false information that’ll get your team killed, and then I’ll have to watch that mess happen all over again!” She continued to lavish his face with kisses, ignoring his laughter at her fretting. “Are you done with Jordan? Can we be together for a little while, or are you booked for the rest of the day?”

  “He just left. I have a little break until I have to go see Mel at his office.” Anson carried Etta with her legs wrapped around his waist all the way up the stairs, relishing every moment of her clinging to him so desperately.

  Anson sagged against the hallway wall, trying to catch his breath through the waves of lust that washed over him. “I was not expecting such a fantastic welcome,” he admitted, letting her down to stand so she could kiss him deeply, sucking on his lower lip to draw out the passion. “If that’s how you react, you should watch my movies more often. I’ve got a whole stack for you if it’ll keep me in your good graces.”

  “You’re not quitting on me now,” Etta teased, dragging him toward the bedroom. “I’ve got big plans for you.”

  “Do they involve more of that? Because, yes. The answer is always yes.” He rested his hand over his heart to slow the racing. “Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but what brought that on?”

  “I just missed you.” She worked his shirt
off, enjoying the thrill of partially undressing him. She traced the muscles on his abdomen. They almost made it to the bed, but ended up kissing on the floor a few feet away. “Seeing you all oiled up, looking like a war hero does something to a simple country girl.” She batted her eyes at him, grinning when he dimpled. “And then watching you die like that? That was horrible! I just kept imagining life without you, and it made me all needy.”

  “For the record, if this is you needy, I can live with that any day. I can even fake my own death right here if it’ll start that all over again.” He threw his head back in over-dramatization. “Ah! My pancreas! I need mouth-to-mouth to resuscitate me!”

  “How did your phone calls go?” she asked, tracing her fingernail lower down his stomach.

  “Fine. Boring. They wanted to know all about you, and I was nice and evasive. The only details I gave out were how long we’ve been seeing each other, and that we’re living together now. Oh, and your bra size. Give other women something to aspire to.”

  Etta began kissing his perfect mouth. “Say the thing you said to the Nazi girl right before you guys kissed for the first time.”

  It was the first time Etta had ever seen a blush creeping over Anson, turning him bashful. “I don’t even remember what I said. I memorize my lines for the week, and then forget them. That movie’s years old.”

  “Come on! It was something like, ‘You’re the finest thing in heels and a smile, like you’re wearing both just for me.’”

  He kissed her to keep from letting his embarrassment show. “I can’t. You’re not wearing heels.”

  “I could be wearing heels.”

  “Mm. That sounds nice.” His throat constricted at the thought of her in nothing but the tall black shoes he’d bought her for the ball.

  She smirked into their kiss. “You could be wearing heels,” she teased.

  “I do not understand your sense of humor sometimes. But you should watch my movies every day if this is the feedback I get.”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t want me to watch them. You’re so talented. You definitely picked the right career.”

  Anson cleared his throat and kept his eyes on the ceiling. “I started seeing someone for a little while a couple years ago. She would go see my movies and then tell me how much they sucked. How I should’ve done such and such different. The bad scripts. My performance. Kinda made me gun shy. Plus, I’m crazy in love with you. That ups the stakes a bit.”

  “Anson,” Etta cooed, stroking the side of his face with the back of her hand. “I love you.”

  He began to imagine what she would look like pregnant. Her breasts engorged, swollen belly, and a glow that only he would give her. Something primitive stirred within him at the thought of the precious creature being so wholly his. He pictured her complaining about sore feet, which he would rub until she felt better. Then there would be midnight feedings, holding a tiny replication of them both.

  Anson postured, abruptly deciding that no wife of his should be on the floor. Gently, he lifted her off the white carpet and carried her to their large bed. When she looked confusedly up at him, questioning the special treatment, he merely smiled at her. He tucked the covers up around her the way he knew she liked, so she would be most comfortable. “I’ll be back.”

  Anson went downstairs to bring her some tea. Me. She chose me. She flew across the country to be with me. I will make it worth her while.

  When he returned, Etta was indulging in a little catnap, the comforter curled around her, leaving her elegant neck exposed to him as she rested on her side. Anson set the tea on the nightstand and left the temptation of being near her for his office.

  Anson Gable sat at his desk, considering things he never had before. He opened the search engine on his laptop and typed in a subject that both thrilled and scared him to see on his screen.

  The Return of Chloe

  When Etta Brossetta first arrived in LA, she was unsure she would be able to assimilate. Being Anson Gable’s girlfriend was a beast all its own, but it gave her a flat identity she was unsatisfied with. It was when she began working at the local senior center that she started to relax. Jordan secured her a job as the Junior Project Coordinator, which she was certain he pulled a few strings for. The learning curve was not as bad as Etta expected, except for the computer end of things, which was crucial to the other parts of her job. She promptly enrolled herself in a basic computer class at the community college and began to gain traction. Despite her protests that he would be bored, Anson signed up for the class with her, insisting he could never be bored if she was there to stare at.

  Anson Gable attending community college brought such clout to the school, enrollment saw the biggest spike in five years. Everywhere they went, they were photographed and gawked at, but Etta grew a thick skin concerning the intrusion into their personal affairs. Summer was too hot for dwelling on her fears. The couple began to go out on actual dates. Restaurants, movies, picnics, and even a few clubs were treated to the revenue bump that came when the couple was photographed at their establishment.

  The OCD was always lurking, but Anson and his psychiatrist were learning how to better manage it. He only had setbacks now when they were cornered by cameras or fans.

  “I don’t know why I’m nervous,” Etta admitted, frowning at her shirt. It was the third one she’d tried on that morning. “It’s Chloe, not the pope. This is wrong.” She harrumphed at her outfit and debated on changing again. “Too LA. I look ridiculous.”

  “In shorts and a t-shirt? How is that ridiculous?” He pinched her rear end, enjoying the girlish squeak it always elicited from her. “You look nice. And she’s your friend. Why would she care?”

  Etta sighed, resigning herself to her reflection. “You’re right. I just haven’t seen her in six months. That’s a long time, Anson. So much of me is different now. I don’t want her to think it’s a bad change.”

  “Ekaterina and Oksana are taking us out tonight. That’ll take some of the pressure off. Chloe can gawk at them and you two can gossip about how crazy they are.”

  “Your ex-fiancée and her girlfriend are taking us out? That sounds about right. Very LA.” She glanced at the clock. “We gotta go.”

  They held hands on their way to the airport, and Etta babbled the whole drive about the different things she wanted to show her best friend. Since she’d left the quiet mountain town where the Bed and Breakfast she owned resided, she worried things might feel different between her and Chloe. Etta had up and moved with very little warning to live across the country with Anson. She hadn’t known he was a movie star, but once she saw the expectations of his life, she knew she couldn’t leave him to the wolves who always wanted a piece of him. She would take all of it if it meant she could be with Anson. “You alright?” Anson inquired of her fidgeting. “You only squirm like that when you’re nervous.”

  “I’m not sure if I’m excited or scared. It’s a big deal, what I did. Moving in with you? I just want her to see that you’re good for me – that we’re good together.”

  “Then try to relax so she doesn’t think I kidnapped you. You look scared.”

  “Do I? I’m sorry.” She kissed the back of his hand and did her best to breathe. “Better?” she asked, casting him up a simple smile.

  “Much. Chloe likes me. She loves you. It’s a win-win. You’ll see.” He pulled into the winding airport, maneuvering the signs with ease. “Here we are.”

  Anson kept the car running while Etta waited at baggage claim, fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she waited for sight of her friend. Etta was far less recognizable than her boyfriend. In social situations such as this, it was better for him to remain hidden.

  Chloe’s broad smile and shoulder-length chestnut hair shown out like a beacon to Etta the second she came down the escalator. They met in a giggly hug, and Chloe did not stop talking until they were in the car with her bag. “Hey, best friend-stealer,” she greeted Anson with an unapologetic grin. “Do you know how bori
ng it is up in the mountains without Etta?”

  “Do you want me to apologize for that? I’d steal her all over again, given the option. Maybe you should invest in a hamster or something to keep you company.”

  “This one with the jokes,” Chloe said, rolling her eyes. She sat in the backseat and leaned forward to rattle off the details of everyone near her on the plane. Who fell asleep with their mouth open, whose elbow was sharpest, and other important details.

  “I thought Jordan booked a first class ticket. I’m sorry, Chloe. I wanted you to be comfortable. It’s a long flight.” Anson frowned, turning onto his street.

  “Oh, you did. Thanks for that, by the way. But there was a guy in the Army coming back from Iraq on the flight, so I switched with him.” She paused her chatter. “Is that okay? Are you mad?”

  Anson smiled. “That’s fine. Just figures Etta would have really decent friends.”

  Chloe delved into her topics of choice. There was her bar job in Foot Town, her latest hook-up, the French Connection B&B that Etta had left Cooper in charge of, and the latest mountain gossip. “Vera fell last week. Broke her leg. Man, I thought you were stubborn when you broke your arm. That woman’s a tiger! Almost yelled at dad for telling her to take a few weeks off from the office.”

  “Poor Benji. He always takes the brunt of it.”

  “Dad’s doing well. Jamie sends a hug and something he made for you. He’s getting better at whittling. I’ll show you when we get… Where are we going again?”

  “Anson’s house,” Etta explained, pointing in the distance to the enormous abode. When Anson cleared his throat, she caught herself. “Sorry. Our home. Right up there.”

  Chloe squinted. “I don’t see it. I’m so excited I’m in LA! I’ve never been here before, but I’ve been reading up on all the cool stuff we have to see while I’m in town. The Hollywood walk of fame, Griffith Park, the Hollywood sign. I’ve got a list.”