Second Chance Hero

by Rebecca Sherwin

  “Yeah, she was suited and booted this morning. She met up with Phil from the next town over.”

  Why did she meet up with him?

  “She got back about an hour ago. He dropped her off outside The Duck.”

  “Thanks mate.” I say as I hand over the right money, pick up my things and leave the deli.

  Jenna is going to be at one of three places. I don’t bother with The Duck. If her joke of a boyfriend was buying sandwiches they won’t be at the pub. I try the beach on the way to her house.

  “Hey stranger!”

  I flinch as I turn and look behind me.

  “Hey, Liz.”

  She approaches me with that weird stalk she has, and wraps her arms around my waist.

  “I didn’t see you Friday, Deac.”

  That’s because I stood you up to go and see the girl who made me worthless to any other woman.

  “Yeah, I double booked with the boys and forgot we had plans.”

  We didn’t have plans; she told me what time to pick her up and where to take her. Instead of saying no, I just stood her up. As awful as it is, I think she’s used to it. Lizzie is the one with the least Jenna traits. She has dark hair, but pasty skin. She’s shy and agrees with whatever I say. That’s the bit that’s hard to get past; there is nothing attractive about a woman who has no opinion, no passion and doesn’t enjoy arguing sometimes, purely for the make-up sex.

  “That’s okay. You’re here now. On lunch break?”

  “Yeah I was just gonna sit on the beach.” I gesture to the beach and spot Jenna, looking straight at me with a look of disgust on her face. Great. She leans back and raises her face to the sun, soaking up the first of this year’s rays.

  Lizzie follows me down on to the beach, not pleased when I don’t help her off the wall. I jumped, so can she.

  I sit with my back against the wall and look out to the sea, well, towards the sea as I watch Jenna and Kip deep in conversation. She’s got a selection of cakes laid out in Tupperware boxes. I remember when we used to that; she’d bring her fluffy pink blanket and make me try her latest inventions.

  I can hear Lizzie talking next to me, but I ignore her as I watch Jenna share her cakes with Kip. And I note the complete disinterest on his face. Maybe that’s why she’s staying – maybe Folquay has inspired her; maybe she’ll stay longer.

  Lizzie makes me jump when she makes a beeline for my neck. I try to brush her off, but when I see Jenna look over, something takes over and I hope she’s as jealous as I am. It’s killing me watching her with him, when he clearly doesn’t appreciate her. If she showed any signs of being slightly happy, I could try and let it go. She frowns at me, and looks away quickly.

  “Jesus, Liz. We’re in public,” I pull her hand away from my shorts and push her back, “I’ve gotta get back to the office soon.”

  “Don’t tease me, Deac. It’s been two weeks.”

  “Alright,” I roll my eyes, “I’ll come to you tonight.”

  She claps her hands in excitement and jumps up.

  “Cool. My last client will leave about six. See you tonight.”

  I wonder if it’ll be a perm or highlights for the last client. Honestly, if girls were all as dense as Lizzie we men would have no problem figuring them out. Maybe tonight should be the last time.

  Maybe now is the time to end this shit. With Jenna back in town I can't think straight, especially not about the girls who are just surrogates for the real thing. I can’t screw around knowing she’s not far away, judging me for trying to fill the hole she made when she left.

  Lizzie bounces off and I watch Jenna as I force my food down. Who am I kidding? She left. She said nothing when my dad died, nothing when she made an appearance at his funeral, and nothing since. I shouldn’t be pining for her, I should angry as hell that she left me when I needed her.

  But I can't be angry. She left because of me, and I’d do anything to go back to that night. To change what I did, what I said, to spend one more night with my father, and know that I would have Jenna to support me. We’d probably still be friends, hell, we might have even made it after that kiss.

  I’d wanted Jenna since I started being attracted to girls. But she was my best friend, and my friend’s sister; there unwritten rules about that shit. We’d run around naked in our paddling pool when we younger, and pee in rock pools together. I shouldn’t have felt what I did for her, what I still do.

  But that night in the pub, something changed. She shivered when I hugged her and her body spoke to me all night. I knew she felt the same and the beer took over, taking over any kind of filter between my brain and my actions. I don’t wish I’d never kissed her, but I wish I’d said something afterwards, or waited until we were older and could be together as adults, not horny uni students.

  Now I have to watch her cooing over a man that should be me. I watch her lick icing off her fingers, so sexily I wanna explode here and now. But he doesn’t even notice – she’s not the type to seduce on a public beach surrounded by kids and dogs, but how can he not realise how stunning she is?

  I throw away half my sandwich and leave the beach to find my truck and go home. Kip might not appreciate what he has with Jenna, but I would, I know it. He doesn’t realise how good he’s got it, and maybe she’s oblivious to what a shit head he is. But I’ll show her the kind of attention she deserves. I’ll show her how much I regret what happened between us, and I will fix this before she leaves again. I have to. I put my Bluetooth receiver in my ear and call my mum.

  “Hi, honey.”

  “Hi, Mum. Listen, I need you to organise a dinner for everyone.”

  “Who’s everyone?”

  “Us and the Rivera’s.”

  “What are you up to Deacon?”

  “Nothing!” Jesus Christ, “Can you do the dinner or not?”

  “I’m not sure we have the space.”

  “Fine. I’ll do it. Do you know why she’s still here?”

  “By ‘she’ I assume you mean Jenna?” I don’t reply, “I’m not sure. She said she’s here for business.”

  “Great.” Looks like she’s found some baking inspiration after all, “Dinner at mine, tomorrow at seven. Can you tell them?”

  “Sure.”

  “Bye, Mum.”

  I hang up. So I’ve got just over twenty four hours to learn how to cook. What if she doesn’t come? She has to; if she feels anything for me at all, she’ll be there.

  I whip my tablet out of the draw in the kitchen when I get home and look for something to cook. I settle for beef stew. I can chop a load of vegetables and meat and cook it for a few hours. Hopefully, Jenna will bring a cake; I hate not having her number, to call her and ask her. Maybe I should arrange dessert, just in case.

  I’ve written a shopping list and opened a bottle of red, when my phone rings. Lizzie.

  “Hey.” I answer.

  “Are you gonna stand me up again?” She asks, her voice shaky.

  “No,” I lie, “but I’ve been drinking. I can't drive.”

  “That’s okay, sit tight. I’ll come to you with Italian.”

  She hangs up before I can protest and I know I’m going to have to deal with her tonight.

  I manage to finish the bottle before the headlights on her car shine through my kitchen window. I don’t bother to get up; she knows I never lock the door.

  “Hey, baby.” She says stepping into kitchen and putting the bag of food on the table in front of me. She busies herself around me, getting plates out and opening wine. I feel like a dick but I just wish she wasn’t here. Plus, she called me baby. That’s not good.

  “You okay?” She asks, tipping pasta on my plate, “You seem distracted.”

  “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” I reach into my back pocket and give her the money for dinner, “Thanks for grabbing the food.”

  “I can buy us dinner.”

  “I don’t want you to. Just take the money.” She reluctantly takes it, but it’s one less thing for me to feel
guilty about. “This is good.”

  “I’m not here for the food.” She says in her best seductive voice.

  “I know. I’ll sort you out.” I sit back and finish the wine, amused at the shocked look on her face. I plan to knock her out, so the last thing on her mind is me. I don’t think I can do it.

  When Lizzie has finished I stand up, lift her over my shoulder and carry her through the house. She squeals with delight, but I am focused on tonight’s mission. There’s no time for giggling.

  When we get to the bedroom, I throw her on the bed, crawling between her legs before she can take any control. Her lips are parted and she's flushed as I remove her clothes swiftly and throw them in a pile next to the bed. When she’s in nothing but her blue lacy thong, I lean down and kiss along her jawline, nipping at her neck and ear. She’s writhing around beneath me and moaning in my ear, and with the metaphorical click of my fingers, she’s ready. I slip one hand into her underwear and ease one finger inside her as my mouth moves down her body, stopping at her erect nipples as I suck them, pulling them gently between my teeth and my thumb circles her clit. She’s breathing my name and grinding herself on my hand. I’ve had her enough times to read her body well and I know she’s close. I twist my hand at the wrist, and put another finger in to join the first. She lets out a throaty scream and comes violently around my fingers. She’s out of breath and lethargic, but when she reaches for my jeans, I grab her wrist as she slides her hand past the waistband. I shake my head at her and throw her legs over my shoulders. I lean over, part her and run my tongue along her sensitive flesh; she bucks underneath me and grabs fistfuls of the bed sheet. I put my middle finger inside her, as my tongue works on her clit with light flicks and hard sucks.

  “Oh, Deacon,” She cries, “Like that. Don’t stop.”

  Lizzie is passed out next to me on the bed, and I'm laying on my back still fully clothed. I doubt she’ll be leaving tonight after the handful of orgasms I gave her to knock her out, so I pull my shirt and jeans off and make my way to my room. I’ve never shared the information with the women who have come back here, that they’ve never been in the bed I sleep in. I couldn't stand sleeping in a bed that had their smell all over the sheets.

  The minute I lay my head on the pillow, there’s a knock on the door. What the hell? It’s gone midnight. I climb out of bed and answer the door in my boxers.

  “Jenna?”

  “Oh my God!” She turns away the minute she sees me, after a lingering look at my underwear.

  “Jesus, Jenna. You could have called.”

  “I don’t have your number and I was nearby. You told me to pop in.”

  “Not this late.”

  “Sorry.” She turns to leave.

  “Don't go. Come in.”

  She hesitates with her back to me and I know she’s thinking it through. She turns around to face me and follows me in the front door.

  “I have problems sleeping, anyway.” I say trying to make her feel better, although I’m wondering why she’s out so late, “Tea?”

  “Have you got full fat milk?”

  “I had you down as more of a skinny latte kind of girl.” I open the fridge, “I’ve got semi. That okay?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut at my double entendre, hoping she doesn’t notice, but when I look back for her response she's blushing and starting at me...indecently.

  “Semi is fine,” She whispers, “I just prefer the full thing.”

  Oh Jesus. I take the milk out of the fridge and put it next to the kettle when I switch it on.

  “You’ve got a nice place. I didn’t think you’d live so far from town and so close to the site.”

  “It works for me. I don’t go to town much and I don’t leave the office much.”

  “You designed the place didn’t you?”

  I pause midair with the teabags, stunned.

  “What makes you think I designed it?”

  Jenna shrugs her shoulders and looks away.

  “Jenna?”

  “Just a guess.”

  I don’t believe her, but I drop it. I hand her the tea and she thanks me. I feel restless suddenly when I remember Lizzie is upstairs asleep naked in what she assumes is my bed.

  “So, what did you want?”

  Jenna looks up at me from her seat at the table and I can see I’ve offended her. I wish more than anything that she could come here just because she wanted to, to sleep in my bed like we used to when we were young, and when we were at uni. She’s the only girl who’s slept in the same bed as me; I loved the way my pillow smelled of her for hours after she left.

  “I was out. Mum called to tell me about tomorrow’s dinner so I thought I’d offer to bake a cake. I should have just asked Emma to call and ask.”

  “Why do you have to talk to me through my mum? We can't have an adult conversation and I can't ask you a question without you flying off the handle?”

  “I didn’t fly off anything, so get off your high horse. I came here to offer to make dessert for tomorrow. Do you want me it or not?”

  It takes me a while to respond, as the answer to the subliminal question play in my mind.

  “Yeah.” I answer, and then compose myself, “Yes please. I can't bake to save my life.”

  “I know.” She squints and gasps as she looks behind me. “You're busy. I’m gonna go.”

  I look behind me and see Lizzie’s handbag on the counter with her car keys and the empty bottle of wine with two glasses next to it.

  “I’m not busy, I was in bed.”

  “I’m not sure your girlfriend would appreciate you saying that. Which one was it tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Well I’ve seen you with two, and I’m assuming there’s more. Fuck buddies don’t tend to stay the night.”

  “What would you know about fuck buddies?”

  “Enough.” She stands up and swings her keys around her finger, “Thanks for the tea.”

  The tea that she isn’t staying long enough to let cool down enough to drink.

  “You don’t have to go. I’m a twenty six year old man, and single. What’s the problem?”

  I can see what the problem is. Her eyes are glassed over, her cheeks are red, her lips parted and dry, and she is looking at me like she’s never seen a man before. She licks her lips and swallows hard. She wants me as much as I want her.

  “Jen.” She shakes her head and takes off towards the front door. I’ve just blown my first shot, “Please stay.”

  “Vanilla or chocolate?” She asks not looking at me as I follow her back to her car, the gravel on the drive digging in my bare feet.

  “Vanilla.”

  “Vanilla it is.” She opens her car door and climbs in, “See you tomorrow at seven.”

  “Kip isn’t welcome.” I say standing at her door.

  She stares at me with fire in her eyes and I think I’m gonna get it.

  “Then neither are your girlfriends.”

  She slams her door shut and drives away.

  Chapter 4

  Jenna

  I can't believe I ended up at Deacon’s house last night. I wasn’t just out and about; Kip was nagging my ear off about me going back to London, and now is not the right time to tell him I’ve just bought Mrs. Hale’s bakery. So I went out for a drive and ended up at Deacon’s. I should have read the signs; I ignored the car on the driveway, and the fact he was perfectly awake wearing nothing but his underwear, and the smell of woman all over him. I hate that I allowed myself to get close enough to smell him. Even with the sweet floral smell stuck to him, he still smelled so good. Just how I remember him always smelling and I remember how that smell mesmerised me every time I got close enough to inhale it.

  How is it possible to be so affected by someone I haven’t seen for so long? Someone I thought I was finally over.

  But he’s with someone, or someones and so am I.

  We hurt each other and the damage can't be undone, no matter how much we might want it to be. We
just weren’t meant to be together.

  “Jenna?” Kip calls through the bathroom door. I’ve been staring between the mirror and the box in my hand for the last twenty minutes, thinking he was still asleep.

  “I’ll be out in a minute.” I call out, put the box back in the carrier bag it came from and store it in the empty bathroom cabinet. I open the door and he kisses me on the cheek.

  “I bought organic coffee. I’ll go make some.”

  I go downstairs and boil the kettle, avoiding any morning interaction with my boyfriend. Mum is in the garden reading the newspaper; I wave through the window and hold up her empty cup. She nods and I pop a tea bag in it.

  Kip comes down in tracksuit bottoms and a vest; I hand him his coffee. And we join Mum in the garden.

  “I’m going to leave about lunchtime, Jen. Will you have your stuff ready by then?”

  “I’ve still got some things to do here. You head back and I’ll see you at the weekend.” I answer, earning a curious look from my mum. She says nothing, just gets back to her paper and thanks me for the tea, but I see the cogs turning.

  “Tea? You’re drinking tea?” Kip asks and I nod.

  “I’ve got a sudden taste for it.”

  He shrugs, shakes his head and picks up the other newspaper from the table.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “He went out this morning, fishing with Bradley.”

  Kip puts his paper down and turns to my mum.

  “I like fishing. I haven’t been for years.”

  My mum looks at me before looking at Kip, and speaking in an unusually flat tone for my mother.

  “He didn’t want to disturb you, dear.”

  I know my parents haven’t taken to Kip as much as he would like. He’s a nice enough guy, and I enjoy being with him. But we have a very different life back in London together, and he doesn’t seem to fit in here.

  ~

  We’ve just eaten a lunch of cous cous salad and summer pudding in the garden, when Kip comes down with his overnight bag. He brought his Audi this time, so he says goodbye to my parents and Jonas, and I walk with him to the car.