I stretch and try to roll over, but am stopped before I can make it all the way to the other side. Before my brain can process what is happening and go into freak out mode, a husky voice invades the darkness of my room.
“How long are you gonna sleep, Red? You’re messin’ up my plans for the evening.” Charlie is pushed up against my back, his voice deep in my ear. He loosens his grip around my waist so I can finish rolling over and look up at him.
“Did you execute some secret military moves to get in here?” I ask, my voice thick with sleep and intrigue.
“No. Just had to succumb to a roommate interrogation to gain access. I think secret military moves would have been easier.”
I push up on my elbow to mirror his position. “So, what are these plans you speak of?”
“Well, Red,” he says, running his hand up and down my side, “I wanted to take you to dinner, but you’ve given me other ideas. Ideas I’ve had since this morning when I woke up with you wrapped around my body.” He moves his hand to my face and puts his mouth to my ear. “The ideas running through my head seem much more entertaining than dinner.”
I feel his cheek pull up with a grin when my breath hitches. I’m sure he can feel my heart pounding. Our bodies are flush against each other. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, Bankston.”
He pulls away to look into my eyes. “You’ve already committed to marriage. The idea’s growing on me. So why put off the inevitable?”
Before I can reply to his snarkiness, his mouth is on mine. The second our lips touch, it’s like a tidal wave has collided with my body. Sensations of being pulled under water hit me with such a force I can’t even breathe. I know he feels it too. He pulls away from me, stunned, shocked, and sucking in air like we’ve been kissing for hours, not seconds.
“Jesus, Red,” he whispers. “What the hell just happened?” He closes his eyes and pushes his forehead against mine, fighting to gain his breath back.
Panting, I answer, “I don’t know, but I want it to happen again.”
Laughing, he kisses me once more. This time, we’re ready for it. Our tongues are involved in the most demanding tug-of-war. We can’t get enough of each other. Our hands are pulling at each other’s clothes, desperate to get them off. Every time our mouths have to separate it’s a cause for groaning. Soon we’re both worked into a frenzy. We’ve gone from zero to sixty in no time. There’s no time for teasing or foreplay. This has to happen now. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life.
“I need to be inside you, Red,” he breaths into my ear.
“Please, Charlie,” I beg him, pulling on his back, urging him to close the miniscule space and come inside of me.
Settling himself between my legs, he grabs my thigh and pushes it towards my body, making room for his massive body to fit. For the first time since our accelerated make-out session started, I glance down and see just how big he really is. My shock must show on my face because he stops and drops my leg.
“Please tell me you’ve done this before, Andi.”
“Yes. He just wasn’t, umm, quite as, uh,” I stop, embarrassed.
He grins, giving me another toe-curling kiss. When he pulls away, he pushes his index and middle finger in my mouth, replacing his tongue. “Suck,” he tells me, his voice husky and deep with lust.
I do as he asks, getting even more turned on than I was a few seconds ago. He pulls them out with a pop.
“I’ll make sure you’re ready for me, Red,” he says, moving his fingers south, pushing them into me and stretching me to accommodate his size. Teasing me to the brink of an orgasm, I beg him to stop.
“Charlie, please, I’m ready for you.”
Quicker than I can comprehend, he moves his hand away and pushes into me. We both cry out as he enters me. I close my eyes at the biting pain. It hurts, but the second he moves to pull out I clutch at his back to stop him.
“No. Don’t stop.”
He starts moving, slow at first, but I can’t take it. I can tell he wants to take me faster. I want him to move, but he won’t, despite my urging.
“Is that the best you can do, Bankston?” I tease, hoping that will get him going.
“Hold on, Red,” he says, and then starts moving faster and harder, and it the best thing I’ve ever experienced. We were made to do this with each other. It’s sheer perfection. I can’t hold back the guttural moans that are escaping my mouth. I hope like hell Celeste left when she let him in the house. It sounds like a porno is being filmed in here.
“Fuck, Red, this isn’t gonna last very long if you don’t stop,” he says, pushing into me harder and harder, which is only causing me to make more noise.
“Come on, Andi, come with me,” he says, leaning down to kiss me. His movements slow, but he hits me deeper and it pushes me over the edge.
We both pull away from the kiss, Charlie’s hand gripping my hip tight enough to leave bruises, and I come with such a force I see stars. He quickly follows and then drops his head to my shoulder to catch his breath, which takes a few minutes.
“Wow,” I say. Sounds so simple, but I have no words. That was crazy, off the charts, best sex ever. Not that I have much to compare it to, but still, wow.
“Wow,” he repeats.
He kisses me again and goes to pull out, but pauses, a string of expletives leaving his mouth. Not exactly what you want to hear after earth-shattering sex.
“You’ve got me so wound up, Red, I forgot to wrap it up. We can’t do that again, or there really will be a wedding,” he says, kissing me before grabbing the towel off my headboard to clean us up.
“There’s gonna be one anyway,” I whisper to myself as he rolls off the bed to bring the towel to the bathroom. I grin and yank on my lip, knowing with all my heart this man is the one.
Six months later, crazy in love, Charlie and I are married at the San Diego Courthouse.
Celeste and I cry the entire time.
“Told you so, Bankston,” I whisper to my new husband, as soon as we finish saying ‘I Do’.
He shakes his head, laughing. “You sure did, Red.”
He seals our marriage with a kiss, no less powerful than the kiss bestowed on me six months ago the day after we met. Every kiss we’ve shared has proven to be just as potent as that very first one. The tidal wave of emotions my husband evokes from me hits me every time I’m with him. It pulls me under and threatens never to let me go. I’ll gladly succumb to its power, every single time.
Chapter Seven
Miller
Instead of walking the direct route from Andi’s house to the hotel, I weave in and out of the streets in my momentary town, getting a lay of the land. Shop owners greet me from their doorways, introducing themselves and welcoming me to their city. Everyone is warm, welcoming, and friendly. It’s like I’ve stumbled back in time. Unreal. After meeting dozens of new faces, I find myself back in the park that’s adjacent to my hotel. Cappy and Charley are swinging, so I make my way over to them.
“Push, Cappy, push,” Charley is saying between giggles. I’ve never heard her speak before. She’s got the same hoarse voice as her mom. I wonder briefly what her father looks like. I have a hard time conjuring up an image. She seems to get all of her looks from Andi.
“I am pushing, girl. You’ve got about as much patience as your Dad did when he was a kid.”
“Hey, Cappy,” I say when I get a little closer.
“Miller, good to see you, son.” He looks at my attire. “How was your run?”
“Fine. I finished that up a while ago. I actually just left Andi’s house.”
His arms drop from the swing and he steps back, looking a bit stunned. “Really?”
“Yeah. Her Jeep wouldn’t start last night. I didn’t feel right about letting her walk home from the bar alone so I made sure she got home alright. I went back by this morning after my run to pick up the keys so I could figure out what was wrong with it. Turned out to be some corrosion around the battery cables. Eas
y fix.”
He nods his head but stays quiet.
“She put up a fuss about it at first, but I told her I was actually doing it for you, to thank you for your hospitality. I think that was the only reason she finally surrendered her keys.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Typical Andi. I’m sure she questioned your motives.”
“You know her well.”
He gives me a tight smile. “Thanks for doing that for her.”
I take a deep breath, feeling like what I’m about to say needs to be said, but not wanting to offend this man that I barely know. I choose my words carefully.
“Look, Cappy, I don’t mean any disrespect to you or your son, but I get the feeling that you and Celeste are the only two people who are taking care of Andi. I was doing it as much for you as I was for her. It seems like the three of you have your hands full.”
“We’re all dealing with a lot, Miller. I think you are, too. I also think you should consider sticking around here for a while. It might be good for you. For all of us.”
He didn’t mention his son’s involvement, or lack of involvement in any of this. None of them ever mention him. And if they do, like Celeste did, briefly, the subject is changed. I don’t even know his name.
“I think I might. I just need to find a job.”
“I happen to know a bar that could use some help and two girls who could use a break every once in a while. Interested?”
I smile. “Absolutely.”
“What about a place to stay? It might not be luxury living, but there’s an apartment upstairs at the bar. It’s furnished and the rent’s cheaper than anywhere you’ll find in town.”
“Thanks, Cappy.” I watch him as he goes back to pushing Charley on the swing, her giggling invading the quiet. “Why are you doing this for me? I’m virtually a stranger.”
He looks back at me, smiling. “Same reason you helped me and Andi. You seem like you have your hands full. Or your head full, as the case may be. I’m just trying to make things a little easier for you.”
“Yeah, but there’s a huge difference in cleaning off some battery cables and giving someone a job and a place to live.”
He just shrugs, and goes back to pushing his granddaughter.
“Meet me at The Shipyard in a few hours. I’ll get you all settled and show you the ropes.”
I actually feel good as I walk into the bar a few hours later. It’s been such a long time since I have experienced this. I’m going to be doing something productive with my night. Granted, it’s just serving booze, but it’s better than consuming liquor with the intent to forget the fact that my life has turned to shit.
The place is empty when I walk in. I call for Cappy, but Andi comes in from the back instead. She’s carrying a case of beer, which I rush over and grab from her.
“Hey,” she says. “Cappy’s with Charley. I told him I could handle getting you situated. It’s not that difficult. You’ve done this before, right?”
“Yeah. Would you like to see a list of references?”
She rolls those hypnotic green eyes. “Nope. If you suck, you don’t have a job. I’d rather watch you behind the bar for a few hours than call random strangers.”
“I’d rather watch you for a few hours, too,” Celeste says, coming through the front doors. “What are we watching Miller for? Not that I’m complaining, but I like to be prepared.”
“Cappy gave me a job. I decided to stick around Fairhope for a while.”
“Does this have anything to do with an amazing pancake breakfast you feasted on this morning?” Celeste asks.
“Maybe,” I shrug. “I sure do like pancakes,” I say, winking at Andi instead of looking at Celeste when I respond to her question.
“What are you even doing here, Celeste?” Andi asks, making sure to pull her eyes away from me. I think I just made her uncomfortable.
Married… I need to remember she’s married.
“Just checking in with you. But, I think I’ll stay and help you train our new employee.”
“You’re not even working tonight. You’d be more helpful if you’d watch Charley for me tonight. Let Cappy have a night off. Besides, Charley hardly sees you anymore.”
“Please. I live with the child. I see her enough. But, I would love to spend the evening with her. I’ll go get her if you’re sure you don’t need me.”
Andi gives her a pointed look. “I was working alone before Miller got here. We’ll be fine. Just go see about Charley. I’ll call you later to check on her.”
Celeste waltzes out the door, and the two of us are left alone to stock the bar for the evening. Andi explains everything she’s doing in explicit detail. It’s not anything I don’t already know, but I don’t bother telling her any different. I like listening to her raspy voice. It’s soothing and comforting. It’s lulling me into a peaceful trance. She could be reading names from a phone book and I would sit and listen.
“Miller? Did you hear me?” she asks, pulling me out of my daze.
“Sorry. What?”
“I’ll work on the floor tonight, and you can stay behind the bar. Week nights are generally slow, so we should be fine with only one of us behind the bar. Anyway, I want to see if you’ve got what it takes,” she adds with a wink.
“Please. I was behind the bar at a place one block off LSU’s campus. This is child’s play. I think I can handle it.”
She laughs. “Touché. Were you in school there?”
“Yeah.”
“For what?”
“Law school.”
“Damn it,” she hisses. That’s a strange reaction to my career choice. When she sees my face, she clarifies her reaction.
“Sorry. It’s just that I said med school and Celeste bet me a hundred bucks I was wrong. Now I owe her.”
There were many days when I felt like I was a doctor. I can run through a home dialysis routine in my sleep. Ask me anything about blood tests, kidney function, blood pressure, kidney stones, a nephrectomy, or a kidney transplant, and you’ll think you’re talking to a Nephrologist. I stop my mind from drifting down that path, not wanting to spoil my mood.
“We can go with med school. For the last few years, my life revolved more around medicine than law, anyway.”
Now she’s the one throwing a questioning look my way, but she doesn’t ask any questions about my strange statement. I get the feeling that she doesn’t ask because that would make her open to answer a few questions I have about her. She doesn’t want to answer questions about her life any more than I want to answer questions about mine. So be it. I do have one question, though.
“So, you and Celeste were talking about me?”
“Um, well, yeah, but not how you think,” she manages to get out, a faint blush appearing on her skin. I’m making her uncomfortable. Good.
“Well, how then? What were the two of you doing talking about me?”
“Oh, we were just wondering what you were doing here. The conversation just took off from there.” She pauses, eyebrows pushed up, waiting for me to offer up answers to her, but I refuse. I’m not going there with her.
We stare at each other, neither of us quite able to pull away. It’s uncomfortable, yet we can’t break the connection. The opening of the front door severs the tie and the moment is lost. Our first customers have arrived and are thirsty.
“Show time,” she says, and the conversation is forgotten.
The night isn’t busy by my usual bartending standards, but there are enough people in here to keep me occupied. Add to that the fact that a stranger to this small town is behind the bar, and I was the center of attention all night. Andi fielded questions for me. Without it having to be said, she gets that I’m not too eager to discuss myself or my circumstances. I quench everyone’s need for alcohol; she quenches their need for information. All in all, it was a good night.
“Congrats,” Andi says, tapping the neck of her beer bottle to mine. “I’d say you passed your interview with flying colors. Th
e job’s yours if you want it.”
“Don’t you need to run that by Cappy first?” I ask her after taking a swig of my beer.
“Nope. Cappy trusts me. I think this was a done deal in his mind, anyway. He’s taken you under his wing.” She pulls on her full bottom lip with her thumb and her index finger before speaking again. I notice that she does that before saying something serious. “He thinks it’s his job to take care of people. He can see when people need help. He’s been like that ever since,” she stops, looks down at her lap, then starts talking again. “Since we got here. He’s much softer than he used to be, from what I can gather. So, he must see something in you. He can sense that you’re here for a reason, that you’re trying to get better. He’s gonna try his hardest to help make that happen.”
I don’t have a response to that. We enjoy our beers and engage in a little gossip about some of the people that came into the bar tonight. One of Andi’s particularly interesting stories is interrupted by the buzzing of my phone from my pocket. It’s the middle of the night. Panic takes over. I jump off the bar stool, pulling the phone out of my pocket like it’s a grenade three seconds away from exploding. Through the cracked screen, I see the very face I’m so desperately trying to get away from.
She’s calling.
At two thirty in the morning.
Something must be wrong.
“Fuck,” I whisper, closing my eyes and bracing myself for what she’s going to tell me. I can’t imagine why she’d be calling in the middle of the night. Nothing good ever happens during middle of the night phone calls.
I push away from the bar, knocking the stool to the floor, and swipe my finger across the shattered surface of my phone screen.
“Goose,” I say, in a voice that doesn’t sound like I own.
Not wanting an audience for this conversation, I push through the heavy doors and make my way outside. I lean against the wooden exterior of the building and light a cigarette, hoping the nicotine will help calm me. My hands are trembling so hard I can barely get the damn thing lit.
The Promise of More: The Home Series, Book Three Page 5