Truth, Lies, and Second Dates
Page 21
By the time the kiss broke, concentration was getting tricky, but she managed. “And if you don’t want to … or you’d rather wait … or even just cuddle and sleep, or sleep and cuddle, that’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. Well. I am. But I’ll come back. For you, always.”
He smiled as he eased her shirt over her head. “I do want to. I don’t wish to wait. And I also want to cuddle and sleep, and then sleep and cuddle.”
“Okay. So. We’ve got that sorted.” Jeez, why was she nervous? Simple: this mattered. It wasn’t a one-off. It wasn’t a “see you next time I’m in town maybe but if not, no biggie.” When they were done, she wouldn’t wish he’d take his leave. When they were done, she’d lie in his arms and think about the future and she wouldn’t be afraid of one thing.
And she’d never been anyone’s first before. Not even for her first.
They helped each other out of their clothes, stopping to trade kisses and murmurs until they were both nude, and then she toppled them both over onto the bed. She straddled his hips and swooped down for another kiss while his hands roamed over her hips and breasts and his back arched beneath her touch.
“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t want to go off too soon.”
“Ah—no,” he gasped. “I masturbated earlier to prevent just such an occurrence.”
“Romantic.”
“Anything for you,” he said, and then chuckled when she poked him.
“Anything you don’t want?” she asked gently. “Or don’t think you’ll like?”
“If you’re the one doing it, I won’t mind.”
“Wow. That’s a big blank check you just wrote.”
“Yes,” he said simply, and reached up to brush her cheekbones with his thumbs. “Have I mentioned my great relief that your ridiculous courage and chronic immaturity didn’t get you killed?”
“A few times. Tell me if you don’t like something, okay? And I’ll stop the second you say.”
“And so begin the threats.”
She snorted, then leaned down for another kiss and he flipped them, ducking down to nuzzle at her breasts. She sucked in a breath as he pressed kisses to her nipples, then tentatively licked one. She could feel herself stiffening in his mouth, which was pretty damned glorious, really. “Oh, that’s—that’s lovely. Keep doing that.”
“Your wish.” He’d shaved that morning—fastidious man!—but his stubble was already blooming along his jaw, and the friction was delightful. She cradled his head as he kissed and nibbled and worked his way lower, as he kissed the tender skin of her inner thighs and spread them open and made himself at home for several minutes. And ohhhhhhh, when your endgame wasn’t penetration, the focus on other aspects of lovemaking
“God God God God God!”
—was immediately apparent.
“Jesus,” she gasped. “I never come that fast. And I have a Hitachi wand.”*
“How very kind,” he panted, surging up to kiss her, hard. “I need—after that—my God, you’re responsive. Can we—” He groped blindly for the toiletries bag he’d placed on the bedside table.
“Yes! Let me.” She reached over, fumbled with the bulging leather bag, and when she got the zipper down, the bag seemed to blow up. Two boxes of condoms as well as strip after strip popped out; she’d inadvertently made it rain prophylactics. “Jeez, how many condoms did you bring?”
“I, um, wanted to be prepared for any eventuality.”
“It’s like a clown car! Do you even have room for your toothbrush in here?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Gosh, which one to choose? Such a vast array!”
“Stop it,” he groaned.
“Okay, here, I somehow managed to find one.” She snatched it up, then ripped the packet open with her teeth.
“Is that supposed to be insanely erotic? Because it is.”
“Glddooikeddid,”† she mumbled around the packet. She carefully smoothed it down over Tom’s cock and then lay back and stretched her arms toward him in warm welcome. “C’mere, gorgeous.”
He obliged, catching his weight on his elbows as she pulled her left leg up a bit, and he entered her in one long glorious slide.
“OhmyGod.”
“Yeah.”
“MyGodmyGodmyGod.”
“Perfect. Now move.”
He obliged, moving tentatively at first, then gaining confidence as his strokes lengthened. She crossed her ankles behind his back and urged him on with a series of gasps and groans and “Oh Gooooood, that’s good…” Her orgasm took her by surprise (again!) as she shivered and tightened around him, as he dipped his head for a messy kiss.
“Is it—is this good?” he panted.
“Perfect,” she murmured against his mouth. “Oh, you feel so good. When you get some practice under your belt—”
He groaned.
“Sorry! Totally unintentional pun. I was just—just saying—ah—that if you’re—ah—this good now—oh-oh-oh-oh—imagine what—ah—what—Christ, I’m coming again…”
“C-can I? Can’t wait … much longer…”
“Yes! I didn’t realize you—please, yes, don’t hold back. I’ve got you. And you’ve got m—ah!”
He shuddered above her and his eyes rolled back and she thought, you’re beautiful and I’m so lucky, and then he collapsed as gently as he could.
“Oof!”
“Mupolgeez,” he mumbled against her neck, which she took for “apologies.”
“Naw. You earned that collapse. But if you’re still squashing me five minutes from now, that’s bad form.”
“Noted.”
She ran her fingers up and down the long planes of his back as he struggled to get his breath back, still hard inside her (no worries about condom leaking just yet, at least).
“That was wonderful,” he said. “You’re wonderful.”
“It was. And yes. And ditto.”
“Do not panic…”
“Oh my God.”
“I am merely making postcoital conversation—”
“Oh my God.” What? What? What the hell could it be?
“But would you ever consider moving back to Minnesota?”
“Oh.” She paused, thought. “Let’s just say that’s not as off the table as it would have been a month ago. It’s not the state. Can’t blame Minnesota for the Monahans—and I promise that’s the last time I’ll say that name tonight.”
“Excellent. On all counts. I’m not trying to rush you,” he said, propping himself up on an elbow to gaze into her face. “I just hope you would be willing to keep your options open.”
“I will. We can talk about it. After my folks died, I always thought home was where my travel bag was. And that’s still true.” Which was something else Pete got wrong. It’s just, maybe soon, home will be where my travel bag and you and your gigantic condom collection are.”
“I adore you.”
“I—” Whoa. Her voice caught, her eyes filled—what was wrong with her? She never got choked up about stuff like this.
You never even talk about “stuff like this.” It’s a lot to take in; that’s all. Nothing to be scared of.
“I think you’re wonderful,” she choked out, and returned his kiss. “I want to be in your life. Your lives—I like Abe and Hannah, too. The thing is, I see now that it wasn’t Minnesota I hated; it was all the collateral damage.”
Tom blinked. “Yes. Of course. Are you saying you only now realized that?”
“Uh. No? No. Definitely no. Don’t be smug,” she scolded, slapping him on the bicep, because that was definitely the beginning of a smirk on his gorgeous face. “And we need to get that condom off before there’s a mess.”
“Consider me your most attentive pupil.”
“Great. Now we—” She froze suddenly, eyes widening in realization, and Tom immediately tensed up.
“Ava? What is it?”
“Oh, shit!” She stared at him, horrified. “We forgot about Becka’s intervention!�
��
Forty-Seven
TBMD: My uncle is on the spectrum.
CAPTAIN AVA CAPP: Thanks for the update, Hannah.
TBMD: Hmmm.
CAPTAIN AVA CAPP: See? I’m smart, too! Sometimes. Does Tom know you’ve scored his phone?
TBMD: I’m not using his phone.
CAPTAIN AVA CAPP: I sense trouble coming your way. Or at least a lecture.
TBMD: You already knew.
CAPTAIN AVA CAPP: What? That he’s blunt and adorably clumsy and doesn’t worry himself to death over social niceties and has a strong sense of justice? I guessed and I don’t give a sh … out.
TBMD: You don’t give a shout?
CAPTAIN AVA CAPP: That’s right! Not a single shout. Also, this is a conversation I should be having with Tom or no one. You’re super-cute, now butt out.
TBMD: Acknowledged.
CAPTAIN AVA CAPP: Also I’m a little afraid of you.
TBMD:
Forty-Eight
THE LIST
Apologize to Becka
Return G.B.’s and India’s calls
Pick up dessert for Abe’s BBQ
SPF 40 lotion for same
Condoms
“You thought what?”
“I’m really sorry,” Ava explained. Though she was still grounded, she’d set up a meet with a number of her crew at MSP before they went their separate ways. “I was being paranoid, which wasn’t fair to you. But some of your questions were, um, off-putting.”
“Like what?” Becka’s eyes had gone very wide and she sounded equal parts crushed and horrified, and Ava hoped like hell she wasn’t going to cry. She felt bad enough she’d assumed the worst, then stood the poor woman up in favor of devirginizing Tom.
“Well. You were saying some pretty odd things like how you’re only here because of me…”
“It’s true! You’re the reason I’m a flight attendant.”
“But … why? You don’t know me. We’ve never met. Also, I’m not a flight attendant.”
“We did meet. Just not officially. My dad had a heart attack on one of your flights. You came back to help the attendants and cheer me up.”
“Oh. Oh!” And like that, things made a lot more sense. “But then why ask all those creepy questions about the murder?”
“Because you’re my hero! What the hell else would I talk about? My lame girl-crush? The paper I wrote about you in college?”
“There’s a paper?” G.B., who’d been leaning against the table sipping coffee, looked like Christmas had come early. “I’ll be needing to see that. Immediately. Hard copy and electronic. There are a few sites I’ll need to post it on … and a few bathrooms I’ll need to strew with hard copies … Could you get that to me within the next half hour?”
She flapped her hands at him in irritation, but kept her focus on Becka. “But why did meeting me make you want to be a flight attendant?”
“I wanted to be a Northeastern Southwest employee,” Becka clarified. “After you’ve been on the air crew for three years, they pay for pilot lessons.”
“We really do have a great union,” India put in.
“Oh. So I’m your hero, which led you to work here to work your way up to pilot?”
“You’re right to be skeptical about your hero status, Ava,” G.B. put in, looking her up and down. “I mean … whyyyyyyyyyy?”
“Jesus,” Ava mumbled. “You know, I did manage a belly landing with zero injuries.”
“Pfffftt. Call me when the captain’s down for the count, the hydraulics are shot, and the plane’s on fire. Then you can brag.”
“I like how you never hesitate to belittle my proudest accomplishments.”
“Right? You need more friends like me.”
“That’s unimaginable,” Ava admitted.
“I’m going to assume that’s a compliment.”
“Are you two done?” India asked. “So, Becka, you didn’t sign on because of the uniform change?”
“Well, no.” She shrugged, embarrassed. “But I couldn’t tell you all the real reason.”
“There’s a paper,” G.B. reminded everyone, delighted.
Becka sighed, then added, “I was so freaked out when you wanted to get together. That’s why I lost my nerve and canceled at the last minute.”
“Don’t worry about it. It all worked out. And I definitely didn’t forget about it, so it’s all good.”
“What? You—”
“Nothing! Sorry, you were saying?”
“I just … really look up to you.” She was blushing now, staring at the floor. “My dad’s still with us, y’know. He changed his diet and lost sixty pounds.”
“I’m glad, Becka, but that’s not because of me. I was just one person on a team. I think I did CPR for all of sixty seconds before I was relieved. The flight attendants did most of the work.”
“As per usual,” G.B. said, pretending to cough. Except he was terrible at the fake-cough verbal smackdown and just muttered the words into his fist.
“Quiet, you.” To Becka: “Your dad’s the one who decided to make the lifestyle changes. That’s the hard part, I think.”
“I know what I know,” Becka said again, pushing her riot of red hair away from her flushed cheeks.
“We might be moving out of hero category and into stalker category,” G.B. commented.
“Give her a break, Ghost Baby.”
“No. No. Don’t start that again.”
“Then be nice to Becka,” Captain Capp ordered.
“Fine. Shit. Fine.”
“See?” Becka asked, beaming. “Hero.”
Epilogue
One month later …
Sea-Tac Marriott
Ava couldn’t stop staring at the text, though she’d gotten it over an hour ago.
Blake was getting married?
Blake Tarbell was getting married.
Blake? Her Blake? Although that was unfair, and incorrect … he was no more her Blake than she was his Ava. But still. The shock of it. As shocked as he’d be if he heard she was getting married, which was really funny. And I have to say, if Tom found me and dropped to one knee tonight (or fell to one knee, which was more likely), I’d have to say no. Yes, definitely no. Too soon. No rush. Etcetera.
But if he asked six months from now…?
He must have lost a bet. It’s literally the only reason I can think of for King Blake of Bachelorandia to get hitched. She felt a little like Sally Albright* when she heard Harry, the most cynical person she knew, was getting married: “Who is she?”
“Captain Capp? Don’t forget your flowers.”
Ava, halfway to the elevator, wrenched her attention from the text, turned around, and shook her head at the bouquet. “Oh, he’s gotta stop doing that. He can send Hannah to Harvard for a semester with what he’s spending on flowers.”
“They’re lovely,” the receptionist said.
Tom had decided to approach courtship by the book. He even had a checklist, to her vast delight. Thus far she’d been serenaded and seduced and was the recipient of letters and love poems. He was taking her out for traditionally romantic dinners and drowning her in flowers. At one point, he’d decided to retroactively protect her reputation by having Abe chaperone.
“If there’s nothing else, Captain Capp … um…”
“Yes?”
“Nothing. You … nothing.”
“You might as well ask. Did you see my face on the news?”
“It’s just I didn’t recognize you until I got a really good look and are you the Ava Capp who had to do a belly landing while solving murders?” This all in one breath, like she’d get in trouble if she drew it out.
Ava laughed. “No! Not even close. Maybe a fifth of that is true. Okay, a quarter of it.”
“That was … wow.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks.”
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Not from you, m’dear. N
ow if you’ll excuse me, I have to go have Skype sex.” She started toward the elevators, then wheeled around and snatched up the bouquet. “Whoops! Can’t Skype without a bunch of random flowers strewn everywhere. What? You’re looking at me like it’s weird. It’s not that weird.”
“It’s a little weird.”
“It’s how we do things in my family,” Ava replied. “That’s all.”
That’s all. And it was enough. In fact, it was everything.
Romance/Horror Trope List
1. Tropes are tools
2. Pilots have a girl/guy in every port (subverted: Ava enjoys a healthy sex life, but her numbers aren’t outside the norm)
3. Bitchy gay flight attendant (subverted: while bitchy, G.B. is a raging heterosexual)
4. Sad, dark backstory (literally everyone)
5. Longtime class clown jokes to hide pain of sad, dark backstory (Ava)
6. Bald is evil (subverted)
7. Small-town girl fleeing to big city to leave tragic past behind
8. Stephen King reference (“… get my mind serene.”)
9. Tragic past eventually catches up with small-town girl
10. It’s over … but it will never be over
11. Breakups are always brutal (subverted with Blake and Ava)
12. Evil is petty (villain)
13. Fatal flaw: pride
14. Eureka moment
15. Red herring
16. Alibi
17. Chronic evidence retention system
18. Clueless mystery—subverted. There are clues, but not many; the few there are don’t resemble clues; and Ava and Tom don’t piece them together until the end
19. The dog was the mastermind
20. They look just like everyone else
21. Mystery magnet
22. Amateur sleuth
23. Improbable coincidences (Ava and Tom are on the same flight)
24. Smart people know Latin
25. This time, it’s personal
26. Deadpan snarker (Ava, pretty much constantly)
27. Geeks don’t watch much TV
28. Flawed hero
29. Child prodigy
30. Time dissonance
31. Hero is always older (subverted)