The Neighborhood Series (The Neighborhoood)

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The Neighborhood Series (The Neighborhoood) Page 24

by Tarrah Anders


  I point over to the hallway, and Darrel looks confused.

  “My bedroom. My couch is too small in the butt cushiony areas for two to lay without quickly falling off, so to avoid face-planting into the floor, I prefer for my cuddle sessions to happen in my bedroom. Don’t worry, my bedroom is boring and there’s nothing remotely sexy in there to suggest otherwise,” I explain as I lead the way down the hall.

  “I’m a professional, so even if there was, I wouldn’t say anything.”

  “Well, thank you for that, then.”

  “So, are you a talkative cuddle person or are you a silent one?” he asks.

  “It depends. When my cuddler is an older woman, like Mrs. Maxwell, it’s like cuddling with your grandma. Otherwise, with Devin, it was a little bit of both. Some days, I didn’t need to talk, and it was comfortable. Other times, I would likely talk his ear off.”

  “Well, whatever is discussed will never leave the confines of this room, as well as if you get emotional, then let me know what I can do for you at that moment. How do you want to start? Big spoon, little spoon?”

  “I like to start out with my head on the chest and the arm wrapped around me, then I eventually will move to that. Since we’re new to one another, let’s just figure out what works.”

  “You got it boss.” He salutes playfully.

  He lays down in the center of my queen-sized bed and then opens his arms out to me to slide into place. I lay my head on his chest and my hand moves to just under my chin on his stomach. His strong arm wraps around my shoulder and we both seem to take a deep breath and release it at the same time.

  “Now, Mrs. Maxwell, she’s an interesting bird,” he says lightly.

  “You’ve met her?”

  “She is quite the story teller, always reminds me to eat my fiber and to tie my shoes,” he replies.

  “She always tells me to make sure I get all my beauty rest, so that way when I meet myself a young fella that my beauty will last well beyond my years.”

  “Oh, she’s a hoot,” he says lightly.

  “So, how new are you to cuddling?” I ask him.

  “Well, you are my fourth client. I now have two regulars. The other client, aside from you, I’m also filling in for Devin with because of his personal emergency.”

  “I hope that he is okay,” I say absently.

  “So, why do you seek our services?” he asks after a few moments of silence.

  “Same as you- human contact. I’m not in a relationship, so unless I start having hook ups from the bar, then your services are what I seek,” I reply.

  “The bar?” he asks.

  “Oh, I’m a waitress at the local bar, The Neighborhood. It’s, well, it’s the only happening place here in Mercy,”

  “Oh yeah, Mercy seems small, just from the drive in. I don’t even think that I’ve ever been over here.”

  “Mercy is the embodiment of what a small town is. Everyone knows one another’s business, and when a new person comes to town, they quickly get hazed into our society here. Which means that they are taken under the wing of someone, and that someone, lately, has been folks from The Neighborhood.”

  “And what does one do to get taken in?” he asks.

  “Well, the last few happened to be connected by dating. Noah met Valerie at the bar and pursued her like nobody’s business. Then Missy came into town and wouldn’t leave Miles alone, Luke followed my bestie, Rhi, into town – but he doesn’t count since they were together before he actually moved here, and lastly, we have Wyatt, who Noah gave a job to because he had one available.”

  “So, this bar is the mecca of Mercy?”

  “I mean, it’s the only awesome place to hang out around here. We have a diner, but that’s just food. The Neighborhood has booze, a pool table, televisions, and food. It’s entertainment, and that’s what people in bored ass little town need to stay out of trouble. It’s good business for Noah. Smartest damn thing that his dad and granddad did was start up that bar and then leave it to his son after he passed. Otherwise, this town would be a ghost-town, and folks would be living in poverty out here, plus, the bar will be expanding soon,” I say mindlessly, aware that I’m rambling but happy to have someone new to ramble to.

  “From what I’ve seen, the town has character.”

  “You mean the town is full of characters.” I laugh.

  “Well, I’ve only met you, and you are quite an interesting one. I’ll have to check out The Neighborhood before I head back to Hollybrooke.”

  “I have a shift in two hours, so make sure to tip your waitress.” I laugh. “Okay, move?”

  We move from Darrel lying on his back to spooning me from behind. His arm wraps around my middle, and I cross my arms over my chest. I’m careful to not wiggle my ass too much into his groin, but the light movement that I do, I can feel the sizable bulge in his pants. Not quite rigid, but definitely there. The butterflies in my stomach are doing a shit ton fluttering, and my heart picks up speed.

  “You grow up around here?” he asks, his minty breath brushing across my shoulder.

  “Yeah, born and raised. My mom and dad still live in the same house that I was born in,” I offer with a shaky voice. I need a distraction; I need to not think about the hot guy cuddling me with the likely huge dick in my bed. The huge dick that is hard at my backside.

  Basketball. Men running back and forth on a squeaky court, men sweating and bumping into one another, men high-living, sweaty men slapping one another’s asses. Nope, didn’t work.

  “You were born in the house?” he asks, breaking me away from my thoughts.

  “Huh? Oh yeah, well, Hollybrooke General is about 40 minutes away and according to my mom, I wasn’t waiting. So, my mom bared down, and I basically fell out of her, as she likes to tell everyone.”

  “That’s fucking cool. I mean, not that you basically fell out of her, but that it was so quick,” he says reaching for his explanation.

  “Anyways, so where are you from?” I ask.

  “I am from Hollybrooke. I worked as a medical technician before it became a little taxing on my emotional status and then quit to cuddle those who needed it.”

  “What made you decide to become a cuddler though, of all things?”

  “I’ve seen a lot of shit while I was on the rig. Saw a lot of crying and no one consoling those who needed it, so when I made the decision, I just wanted to help, and now here I am.”

  “Wow, I can only imagine,” I say, my voice above a whisper.

  “Anyhow, I’ve met some interesting folks so far, and it’s a calming job. Almost like meditation.”

  “Unless you get a Chatty Cathy like me!” I laugh.

  “You’re good company, so I don’t mind. Besides, I’m here for you.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  My hour is up, and I want to extend my time and stay within Darrel’s arms. Not for any reason other than I fit perfectly in between his limbs, and I feel some sort of calmness with him. Devin and I meshed well, but there was just something about this connection between Darrel and myself that I can’t put my finger on. We stand across from one another on opposite sides of my bed, and I pull my long platinum blonde hair up in a messy bun as he straightens his clothes out and shakes a leg. I try to hide my smile at his adjustment.

  “I hope it was good for you,” he says with a slight desperation in his tone.

  “It was really nice; I think you may have found yourself a new regular. That is, if you can manage the drive out to Mercy.”

  “I can’t promise multiple times a week with my schedule, but if you want to move back and forth between Mrs. Maxwell and I, I think that can be arranged. I wouldn’t want to impose on Devin, though. If you would prefer him as well, I guess you know the scheduling and such.”

  I nod my head and begin to walk out of the room.

  “I’ll make sure I can make the appropriate arrangements this week.” Why do I sound so clinical.

  “Good to hear.” He smiles. And there’s that
dimple.

  Ah, yes. My attempt to be unaffected just went out the door. I like him. And I think that I like him in a more than just someone-that-I-pay-to-cuddle-me-on-the-regular-in-a-platonic-way type of like.

  Oh fuck. Well this can’t be good. I inwardly groan.

  Darrel sits down at my tiny kitchen table and puts his shoes on. He grabs his keys that sat on the table and stands. He holds out his hand, and I place mine apprehensively in his.

  “Here’s to the start of a wonderful relationship.” He coughs. “I mean business relationship. A wonderful business relationship,” he corrects himself.

  I offer him a smile and do what I can to not portray that I was liking that he just said relationship. He moves to the door, hand on the knob, and hesitates.

  “Hey Deb?” He turns.

  “Yeah?” I say in a light breathy tone.

  “It was real nice, you know, meeting ya and all. I hope to see you again.” He smiles and that damn fucking dimple. “Soon.”

  “Yeah, same,” I return.

  And then he’s gone.

  I move slowly to sit down in the seat that he used to put on his shoes, and I begin to fan myself.

  “My, that was a pleasant surprise,” I say to the open space of my kitchen.

  I scheduled my next three weeks of appointments almost as soon as Darrel left the space of my home, and I regained my composure. I space out the visits between my appointments with Mrs. Maxwell and with Darrel equally over the next few weeks.

  Mrs. Maxwell came over three days later, and I switched up the standard routine of cuddling with her in my bedroom, to having her hold me in a sitting position on the couch. Her arms would wrap around me in a bear hug, and I would lean into her for the first half, and then I would lay my head on her lap while she ran her hands through my hair. We talked, and I told her that I had a small crush on someone new. Like a doting grandmother, she listened and offered up wisdom. Three days later, Darrel came over and it would his turn to cuddle me. We took the same places we did in my bedroom that we did for our first session. We talked about the most random, yet perfect, topics like the likelihood of zombies and what we would do if the world went to shit. We told childhood stories and we talked about our lives. When we moved positions, Darrel’s fingertips traced circles on my bare midriff, and I did what I could to not grind my ass against him.

  Before long, our time was up, and I was smiling like a loon at him as he left.

  The next few weeks continued on with the same. I would go to work; I would come home. I would have a cuddle session and then feel relaxed. Rinse and repeat. Darrel and I grew into a comfortable friendship that sometimes seemed to be a little more, but that could have likely been my subconscious hoping that. He never led on that our sessions were anything more than talking and what I was paying his agency for. He never made a move on me, but I can tell that he’s attracted to me. And I’m pretty sure he may be aware that I’m attracted to him.

  I am getting the exact amount of touch that I need. I have the motherly comfort that I keep in the living room, and then I have the masculine, borderline romantic, touch in the bedroom.

  I just want just a little more in that department than I was expecting with this new arrangement.

  And I want that with my new cuddle partner.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  “I don’t know, I just don’t have the time anymore to do anything. I thought that having a kid and shit would be fine. I could work, and the little one could just hang out in the corner in one of them pack and play things,” Rhiannon says, flipping her hair as she checks her lipstick in the mirror in front of her.

  “You know that you can’t technically bring a baby into a bar, right?” I try to not roll my eyes at my friend and co-worker’s choices.

  “In the cities, it’s totally okay to do. People even bring in their pets. Luke and I spent the weekend in Hollybrooke, a month after Piper was born, and we brought her into some brewery. It was almost like I had automatic babysitters, everyone wanted to hold her.”

  “Rhi, I’m pretty sure that you could easily get automatic babysitters for when you have to work your shifts,” I offer her. “Guaranteed, my ma would do it.”

  “So, you really think that if I propped a pack and play in that corner over there, that Noah and Miles would freak?” she asks.

  “Yes. You said you talked to them about it already, though. What did they say?” I ask her as I fill up a glass of water and put in in front of her.

  “Well, I may have just kind of mentioned it. I didn’t really say anything specific. Noah made it pretty clear that it was like neglect or something, and then I kind of zipped my lips. I was gonna have Luke ask, but when I brought it up to him, he kinda just laughed at me and said I was funny.”

  “I mean, it kind of is. I think every employee handbook says something along those lines, that kids should not go to work with you,”

  “We don’t have an employee handbook,” she deadpans.

  I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure there are insurance liabilities and stuff that state specific rules, you know. Like how you can’t bring a baby to work and completely ignore it while you work, and people around her would be getting drunk.”

  “Oh, well that’s a very good rule.” She nods. “It’s kinda like, ‘hey, you’re so impressionable and immature, you shouldn’t be slamming back that shot of tequila,’ but then realizing that it’s tequila, and who really slams shots of that anymore?”

  I try to keep a straight face, but giggles escape, and I have to cover my mouth so I don’t laugh so loud that we draw eyes over to our corner of the bar.

  “Oh shit, look at that hot guy, he looks like he could break me in half with just his stare,” Rhiannon says, her voice taking a serious tone as her eyes follow a familiar face that just walked in the door. “Look at him, superhero stance, eyes scanning the room, so serious, oh wait…what’s happening?” she asks as his eyes zero in on our direction, and he begins to stride over to us.

  My mouth goes dry, and I’m doing what I can to keep my mouth closed so it doesn’t unhinge and drag on the bar floor.

  One, because it’s dirty. Two, because that’s unladylike, and three, because it’s Darrel, my cuddler!

  “Why is he coming over here and looking at you like he wants to devour you?” Rhiannon whisper-shouts at me, her eyes never wavering from him.

  “Hey Deb,” he says, his voice so smooth and deep.

  “Hey Darrel.”

  “Okay, who are you, and how do you guys know one another?” Rhiannon looks between the both of us, while motioning.

  “Darrel is my… he’s my…my… cuddle buddy,” I say quietly.

  “Aw, that’s sweet. Wait, your what?” Rhiannon swings her head between us.

  Rhiannon wouldn’t let up on the circumstances of who Darrel was to me, as Darrel just stood there smiling. I had to make a promise to call her later, in order to get her to give us some privacy.

  She’s a new mom. Piper, her daughter, is two months old, and I’m hoping that the little one tires her out before I can call her to tell her my embarrassing story about needing to hire perfect strangers to hold me affectionately.

  It is time for me to take my lunch, so I order up a few burgers from Percy and take a seat in one of the back booths that I direct Darrel to.

  I slide across the leather seat across from him and smile.

  “So, what brings you to Mercy?” I ask him, leaning forward.

  “Well, I have an appointment on my calendar for later tonight, so I came early. I had the afternoon free, so I figured I’d come to this place that one of my clients mentioned, you know, check it out and grab some food.” He shrugs.

  “You realize that the appointment is set for six hours from now; what the heck are you going to do?”

  “Hang out?” he offers.

  “This is going to look like you’re here for me. Everyone is going to start talking, then I would need to explain who you are and….”

  “
Wait, is that a bad thing? So what, you made a new friend, and that friend just happens to have come by your work to eat and hang? Is that not allowed? Are new people not allowed here? Is this some special club?”

  “Are you allowed to be inebriated for your sessions?” I ask him.

  Why am I acting like a nagging bitch?

  “Who said I was going to drink?” he asks with a shrug.

  “Darrel, this is a bar,” I reply, looking around the space.

  “And I’m pretty sure that this bar has soda or water,” he says slowly. “Listen, I will go. I thought it would be cool to come by here. I’m sorry, it looks like I overstepped.” He stands up, pulls his wallet from his back pocket, and throws a twenty on the table. He makes a beeline for the front door as I’m still sitting in the booth, completely shocked at the way I reacted toward him.

  I drop my head in my hands and take several deep breaths.

  “Um, Deb, are you okay?” Wyatt sets the burgers down in front of me. “You hungry or something; you got two of these?”

  Well ,shit, he left and didn’t even get his lunch. One of the reasons that he came here.

  My phone in my apron vibrates, and I dip my hand in the pocket to grab it.

  One new email message. I click on the icon and see it’s a message from the cuddle agency, Cuddle Puddles.

  With slight hesitation, I click on the email and see that it’s a ‘we regret to inform you that your session is cancelled,’ kind of email. I take in a deep breath and move to get out of the booth. Being a jerk and ignoring Wyatt, I walk to the front door and out onto the street. I look both ways and don’t see Darrel’s car.

  I pull up my contacts and dial the agency. The receptionist picks up on the third ring in a cheery disposition.

  “Cuddle Puddles, how can I be of service to you?” she says.

  “Yes, I just received a message that my session for this evening is cancelled, and I was wondering what happened?” I ask.

  “Your name please?” she asks.

  I provide to her the details that she needs to look up my information.

 

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