by Mara Jacobs
But that wasn’t what this was about. This was purely a means to an end. The end of celibacy. The beginning of the future.
Instead of trying to explain the unexplainable, she answered, “Uh, that would be a no on all of the above.”
He waited for her to go on, and she sighed, knowing there was no choice. “Never met the right guy. Too busy with work. You know, the usual reasons a woman my age is still single.” She rambled the words out, as if she knew them by rote. And she did. People she met asked her that question a lot in the last three years.
She’d never been asked it before.
“Yeah, okay, I guess.” He let it go, but only for now. There was a look in his eyes that made her think he didn’t buy her simplistic explanation.
Eager to get him off the subject of her personal life, or lack thereof, she asked, “You said you were divorced seven years ago? So, only married that once, then?”
“Believe me, once is enough.” There was a bitterness in his expression that she thought looked foreign on him. Or at least the Finn she used to know. She guessed a bad marriage could do that to you.
Come to think of it, he did look…harder. Of course, a seventeen-year span would age a person, but the Finn she’d known, though saddled at a young age with much responsibility, was still full of dreams. The man in front of her had definitely seen many tough days and they showed on his face.
He still looked good to her.
It wasn’t a classically handsome face, though he possessed the chiseled cheekbones of a male model. His nose was crooked from a fight in eighth grade. There was a tiny scar through his eyebrow that he’d received when trying to take a whiskey bottle away from his mother at seventeen. Both experiences he’d told her about on a blanket at the beach, one with laughs, the other with tears.
His blue eyes, now serious and knowing, were light and teasing years ago. His mouth was firm and drawn tight, like he grimaced frequently, but his lips were still full, and tempting.
He looked as though the years of a hard life had caught up with him.
She didn’t care. For her purposes she need only to be attracted to him, not to understand him. And she was absolutely attracted to him.
Sitting across from him, sparring with him like they used to, she knew she’d made the right choice. Finn was the one to bring her out of hibernation. He was sexy. He wanted her. She knew she’d enjoy their time together. And most importantly, she’d be able to walk away from him.
“So, no plans to remarry?” she teased. He’d made it perfectly clear in his tone that one would be his limit.
“No way. What about you, ever think about it?”
She shrugged. “Sure, I’m open to it. Actually, I’ve become more open to the idea in the last few years. My business is in a good place, I’ve got great people who work for me. I’m able to slow down and smell the roses, as it were, so, yeah, I guess I’m looking.”
She thought she saw a flash of panic in his eyes, but he kept his cool and only nodded at her summation. She waited a second or two, then let him off the hook. “Relax. I’m not looking tonight. Or for the next two months.”
He let out a breath that he probably didn’t even realize he held. He fastened his steely blue gaze on her and asked, “What are you looking for tonight, and for the next two months?”
This was it. The moment of truth. Lay her cards on the table and see if he plays. She leaned forward, her breasts resting on her forearms, her eyes locked on his. “No strings. No commitments. Just some laughs, some fun, some good old-fashioned messing around.”
He seemed taken aback at first, then leveled her with his aw-shucks smile and said, “Then, Elizabeth, I’m your man.”
They didn’t order dinner. They had one more beer each, which they nursed for the next hour. The conversation turned to mundane things, neither of them wanted to spoil the evening with more personal talk. After all, it was looking like they may begin a purely sexual, short-term fling, why bring anything personal into it?
Finally, Finn paid the bill, over her argument that she asked him out - she should pay. “Not while I’m still breathing does a woman pay on a date with me,” he snorted.
They left the restaurant. The air was warm and there was no breeze, which was unusual. The sky seemed to sparkle. Because it was so clear, with no pollution at all, the stars shone much brighter here than they did in the city. The downtown area of both Houghton and Hancock ran parallel to the man-made canal, with the back entrances to the businesses situated on a bike and jogging path that ran alongside the water. She could faintly hear the waves from the canal as they gently lapped against the seawall. She was taking in the stillness of the night when Finn asked where her car was parked.
“Just around the corner, in the parking deck.”
He only nodded, took her hand in his, and started in that direction. His hand was rough with calluses. You didn’t get hands like that from making popcorn. His fingers entwined with hers as he glanced over at her. His pace quickened and she had to nearly jog to keep up with him. She was excited, too, could feel the tension building between them.
“Which car?”
“The black Navigator.” She pointed to the vehicle, parked in the corner by itself, in a dark part of the small lot.
“Big city girl like you should know better than to park in the corner, out of the light.”
She giggled, a sound that made him grasp her hand a little tighter. “I do know better. And believe me, in the city I park by the entrance and under a light, but that’s what I love about being home, I don’t have to do those things. I even left my car unlocked.”
He gave her a frown. “We’re not totally immune to crime, you know. No need to be foolish.”
“I wasn’t being foolish. I was just putting my faith in my fellow Yooper.”
His frown vanished. They reached her car and he pulled her around to the passenger side. He edged her against the passenger door then disengaged their hands and placed his on her waist.
Oh God, her waist! Of course he’d have to go for her worst area first. She tried to gauge if there were any rolls or handles where his hands were placed and came away feeling as confident as she could with a body that hadn’t been out of the garage in fifteen years. Only driven three times, folks, by a little old lady who always drove the speed limit!
If she placed her hands up on his shoulders, raising her arms and lengthening her spine, it would elongate her waist. Kind of like a yoga move. She did it, barely taking the time to notice how strong and firm his shoulders felt.
Her hands went around his neck as he took a step closer to her. “Seventeen years. It’s the longest I’ve ever waited to have a woman, that’s for sure.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “You weren’t waiting for me, Finn. I’m willing to bet you haven’t thought about me once in all that time, so don’t give me that.”
“You’d lose that bet. I thought about you plenty for the first few years. Then, well, you know, life kind of happens and your priorities shift.”
She laughed. “You mean taking me to bed wasn’t a life long priority for you? I’m hurt.”
His smile went right to her gut. Maybe a little lower. He stuck a work boot-clad foot between her sandals and nudged her feet apart, creating a nest for himself between her legs, which he flew into like a homing pigeon. “Oh, it was a priority all right, it just slipped a few notches on the list.”
“Yeah, like a thousand notches.” She put a slight pressure on his neck, coaxing him even closer. The heat of his body in front of her a stark contrast to the cool metal of her car along her backside.
“Well, E-liz-a-beth, you’re right back at the top of the list now.” He lowered his head and nuzzled her neck. She let out a soft sigh, luxuriating in the touch.
“I hate to disappoint you, but even though I never married, my virginity’s not up for grabs anymore.”
His head shot up. “God, I hope not! First of all, I’d never believe a woman who looks like you c
ould remain a virgin till thirty-five. Second, I’m not twenty years old anymore where the idea of being someone’s first is exciting. I want my woman to know what she’s doing. I don’t want to have to break anybody in.”
He leaned back in and brought his mouth to hers for their first kiss in seventeen years.
Her first kiss in fifteen.
How had she thought his mouth looked hardened? It was anything but. His lips, soft and moist, gently wisped over hers. She opened her mouth under his and felt his immediate response. He angled his head to get better contact and his body moved into hers, connecting them with a current that seemed to electrify them both.
“Oh God, Liz. Yes.” His hands left her waist and held the back of her head, tilting it backward, as his tongue teased her lower lip.
Riding a bike. Riding a bike.
She flicked out her tongue to engage his. It was all the encouragement he needed. His tongue swept deep inside her mouth, tasting of beer, tangling with hers, trying to sample all of her, as if his tongue could remember her taste.
Her hands left Finn’s neck and swept to his chest. She had to tightly wedge her hands between their crushed bodies to feel him, but her determination was strong. She wanted her hands on him. She moved them down to his waist so that she could place her breasts against his chest. They felt heavy and aching and it was almost as if Finn’s broad chest could give them more support than any underwire could.
His breath hitched when he felt her breasts against his chest. It was as if he remembered that she was a whole woman not just a soft, wet mouth.
Shedidn’t think it possible for the kiss to become even deeper, but she was wrong. His gentle lips turned hungry and she responded in kind, meeting his every demand. Her head leaned against the window of her car and he must have felt confident enough that it would not budge to let his hands roam down her body. His right hand swept around her back where it began to smooth over her spine. His left hand went right to her breast.
That was the Finn she remembered, no pussyfooting around, take what you wanted. This was one part of her body that he could play with as much as he wanted. They weren’t cute and perky, but her breasts were full and lush, a breast man’s dream. And Finn had always been a breast man. Though years of gravity were quickly catching up with them, they’d still be in okay shape for another couple of years. For the next two months at least.
Plus, it felt so damn good. His hand kneaded and molded her, pushed her up and squeezed. She voiced her approval with a quiet moan and a roll of her hips.
His hand at her back moved down to her butt and pulled her tight against him. The denim of his jeans was no barrier for his raging erection and the heat of it seemed to burn through Lizzie’s cotton shorts.
“Liz, you feel so good.”
“Mmm, you too. Oh-” she squeaked as he found her nipple. It wasn’t difficult, the kiss alone made it pebble and harden against her white blouse. His thumb rubbed circles around the sensitive nub and for just a moment she didn’t obsess over thoughts about his hand on her ass, and if he could feel cellulite through panties and shorts.
A car door slamming across the parking lot broke their kiss and Finn laid his forehead against hers, catching his breath. He looked over her head, over the roof of her car, to see someone in the lot getting into their car.
“Not here. I can’t do all the things I want to you here. Let’s go.” He started to move her away from the door so that he could open it.
“Where do you want to go? We can’t go to my parent’s place, they're home right now.”
He looked away, towards the water, watched it for a few seconds, contemplating. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave a quick kiss to her nose. “Let’s go to the beach, that place was always lucky for us.”
“Not as lucky as you would have liked,” she said, laughing. She moved around to the driver side and got in as Finn did the same in the passenger seat. He stilled her hand as she went to put the key in the ignition.
“Our luck’s about to change, babe.”
She started the car and pulled out of the lot and onto the main drag. The beach was in Hancock. Her side of the canal. As they approached the bridge, they saw a group of boys walking across on the pedestrian walk.
Finn slammed his hand down on the dash, startling her. “God damn that kid! Liz, you better pull over. I need to get out,” he spat out, his anger evident.
“Here? Right here on the bridge?” She got into the right hand lane, and slowed down.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, right here. There’s no one behind us, just stop and I’ll hop out.”
She didn’t know what to think. What just happened? Had he realized in the time it took to drive to the bridge just how flabby her ass had actually been and decided to jump ship? “Are you coming back?”
He let out a huge sigh. “No. Not tonight. It’s okay, I can walk back to my car from here. I’ll call you tomorrow. Your parents still in the book?”
At her dumbfounded nod, he added, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t want our night to end like this.”
“Then why is it?” She steeled herself for the worst, all thoughts centered on her body, and his evident disgust with it.
“See that group of kids up there? The one with the Lions ball cap is mine, and he’s an hour past curfew.” He left the car and shut the door in one sleek movement. He hopped the barrier to the pedestrian walk and headed to the unsuspecting kids.
To his son.
Finn’s son.
A horn honked behind Lizzie bringing her attention back to the road. She crossed the bridge and headed, not to the beach, but to her parent’s home.
As she turned up the hill at Bob’s Mobil the bible verse seemed to shout at her.
“As for you, be fruitful and increase in number, multiply on the earth and increase upon it.”
Apparently, Finn had followed that advice.
Chapter Five
√ Google if they still make Brut
√ Pick-up more suntan lotion
√ Call Sybil
“He has a son? Why did we not think of that?” Alison asked.
“I know - duh. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. And it never showed up online – although not much on Finn did. Of course he has a kid, nobody’s married for that long and doesn’t have children.”
“Some people are,” Katie quietly whispered.
Lizzie was awash with contrition. “Oh God, I’m sorry Kat, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Step A: Open mouth. Step B: Insert Foot,” Alison said.
“No, no, it’s fine, really. I know you didn’t mean me. And you’re right, there aren’t a whole lot of marriages out there that last that long and don’t produce offspring. Especially in the U.P., home of long winters and large families.”
The women were on the lawn at Alison’s camp. In the U.P., all cottages, cabins, summer homes of any kind were called camps. It was something that Lizzie had tried explaining to her friends in Detroit to no avail. They couldn’t help but picture a ramshackle place with some logs and lots of tarpaper. That was not the case with Alison’s place.
When she’d moved back to Hancock to take her position at Tech, Alison renovated and winterized her parents’ camp on the canal, just outside of Houghton (a fact that the Hancock contingency never let her forget). It was a small, darling Cape Cod, very cozy and just right for one person. It was on the water, which was idyllic for three months of the year, and a heating nightmare for the other nine.
Alison’s two sisters were older, married with children and lived in Chicago and Buffalo, so she was the only one at home. She’d been a change-of-life baby and her elderly parents were to the point where they would soon need to have someone nearby. Her taking over the camp seemed like a perfect solution for the entire family.
Katie lay on a blanket on the ground, wearing a skimpy bikini, looking gorgeous. She was on her stomach and had untied the straps from her top to minimize tan lines. Her white-blo
nde hair was tied back in a ponytail.
Lizzie and Alison were both in tankinis and had pushed the tops up to get sun to their tummies in the privacy that Alison’s camp provided.
Lizzie and Alison lay on chaise lounges, which they had dragged off the deck of the camp and down to the lawn to be closer to the water. The camp was about thirty yards away from the water. On the right corner of the lawn was the sauna house, which contained a sauna and a changing room.
“I mean, a kid! I don’t even like kids. I’m horrible with kids, always have been. I remember every Saturday night when you guys would be babysitting and I’d think, no way, not me.”
“Maybe it’s time to throw in the towel on this plan of yours, hey Lizard?” Katie asked.
A sense of panic at giving up everything she’d planned overwhelmed her. “Why would I throw in the towel? So he has a kid. I can work around that.” She reached for her totebag to pull out her notebook, but realized she’d left it up on the deck. Damn.
Katie rolled over and tied her swimsuit top together as she and Alison exchanged looks.
“Are we back to that again? You guys not behind me in this?” Lizzie asked.
“It’s not that we’re not with you, it’s just that we’re concerned,” Katie gently said.
“Listen, why don’t you forget about this plan of yours, go back to Detroit, start something up with this Davis guy and just take it slowly sexually. I know it’s been a while for you, Lizard, but it’s like riding a bike. It’ll all come back to you.”
Lizzie shook her head. “No, I can’t risk it. Not with someone who’s so perfect for me as Davis.”
“Risk what? That it won’t be good the first time together? It seldom is. That’s what building a relationship is all about,” Katie said.
Lizzie rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, liking the glide of the suntan oil against her skin. Her voice cracked as she said, “I might not get a second chance.”
Katie and Alison kept quiet, sensing there was more. Damn women who knew you better than you knew yourself.