To Live and Love

by LM Spangler

  “I’ll ask her, but I’m definitely in for helping. I don’t mind painting.”

  “Thanks. I know Mel will appreciate the help. It’s a large room but not gigantic. Shouldn’t take the three of us long. Cutting in the ceiling line and around the windows and baseboards will take the longest.”

  “No problem. Just give me the address. What time?”

  “Let’s shoot for around eleven in the morning. Dinner will be around four that afternoon.”

  “Sounds like a winner,” Hoffman said, and then laughed. “Wait until Jones hears that you have a girlfriend.”

  “Great.” Just what I needed. He gave a mental shrug and smiled. What are friends for?

  Chapter 7

  On Saturday afternoon Mel stood with her hands on her hips, admiring the handiwork of Justin, Hoffman, and herself. The room, though still brown in shade, was now the color of melted caramel. It warmed the room and added to the rich tones in her wood furniture. The shade allowed the small collection of colored glass knick-knacks and simple wall art to take center stage in the room.

  The crinkling sound of plastic caught her attention and she turned toward it.

  Justin and Hoffman were folding the drop cloths. “Sorry, guys. I was staring at the walls. They look fabulous. Thank you so much for helping. It would have taken me forever since I’m knee-high to a grasshopper height-wise. I’d have trouble reaching the ceiling line.”

  “No problem, Mel. I don’t mind painting. I have to say you picked a great shade,” Hoffman stated as he ran a hand over his shaved head.

  “I’d love to paint my apartment, but as a renter, it’s frowned upon,” Justin said. He added the most recently folded drop cloth to a pile on the floor.

  Mel took a moment to drink in the gorgeous sight known as Justin Eberley. He wore snug jeans and a chest-hugging, white t-shirt. The man had just the right amount of muscle. Not overly large but not puny either. Perfect in her opinion. A Seattle Mariners baseball cap covered the abundance of black curls atop his head. Pure sexiness radiated from the man. Her pulse raced at the mere sight of him.

  She’d officially fallen head-over-heels in love with Justin. Mel prayed she’d have the strength to tell him someday, but right now their relationship still had that fresh-out-of-the-package smell to it. Justin couldn’t possibly feel the same way. Yes, she knew he cared for her, but his emotions probably didn’t run as deep. She wasn’t even sure where their pairing would take them with her aversion to the outside world. They hadn’t broached that subject yet. It’d be surely coming, but for now, she’d take things as they came.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Justin whispered. His breath feathered her ear, and shivers raced over her body.

  “Just thinking it’s a pity you can’t paint your apartment,” she lied. “On a serious note, thanks so much for your help today. The room looks great, and it didn’t take long.”

  “I’m getting free food from the deal, so I’ll say it was and will be my pleasure. What’s on the menu for tonight?” Hoffman asked.

  Justin laughed. “That’s Hoffman for you. Always thinking with his stomach.”

  Hoffman rubbed his slightly rounded stomach. “Guess it shows, doesn’t it?”

  Mel snickered. “You look like a man who enjoys good food. I have a pot roast in the slow cooker with potatoes and carrots.”

  “Is that what I’ve smelled over the paint fumes?” Hoffman asked.

  “Yep. The roast has been in for a couple of hours,” Mel replied. She sat on the arm of her sectional in the center of the room.

  Hoffman checked his watch. “I’m going to head to my place and get a shower and wait for Samantha to get off work. We’ll be over around four.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks again for the help,” Mel stated sincerely. “You and Justin made this makeover the easiest yet.”

  Hoffman walked to the front door. “No problem. See you in a couple of hours.”

  “Bye,” Mel said as Hoffman left. She turned to Justin. “I like him. He seems like a good guy. Are you sure you told him about my condition?”

  “Yeah. He knew what it was because he watched a documentary about it. He is a good person. Hoffman has never been judgmental about people until he gets to know them.”

  “Hmm… At any rate, let’s get the room put back together or seating this evening might be a little cramped.”

  The next half hour was spent arranging the living room.

  When they completed that task, Mel steeled herself and asked, “How about we get a shower?” She waited a beat or two. “Together,” she added. She imagined it would take a while to get used to wanting more than just companionship from a guy.

  Justin strode to her and gently took her face in his hands. “Have you ever made love in the shower?”

  He swooped down and kissed her. It wasn’t a soft one either. Her blood went from a slow simmer to white-hot when he didn’t relent, didn’t give her time to think, only giving her time to feel.

  Like two teenagers about the have sex for the first time, they raced, hand-in-hand, through her bedroom to her master bathroom. Mel couldn’t get him naked fast enough.

  “Are you attached to this t-shirt?” she asked.

  “No,” he answered against her mouth a moment before stumbling when he lost his footing after getting tangled in his jeans. “Why?” he asked as he straightened up.

  Mel gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled in opposite directions. The fabric held strong. Justin grabbed the hem from her and ripped it off and threw it in the wastebasket.

  Mel laughed like a loon, the sound booming in the confines of her bathroom.

  “Why are you still dressed?” he asked as he opened the shower door and turned on the water.

  The thrill of playfulness and sex rushed through her, making her giddy as she stripped herself and put her dirty clothes in the hamper.

  She let out a startled yip when arms encircled her waist. Justin lifted her off her feet and deposited her in the stream of hot water, leaving her sputtering. Without preamble, he pushed her against the shower wall and kissed her hard. His hand dipped between her legs and stroked her core before he slid his finger into her channel.

  She groaned against his mouth as he thrust his finger in and out of her. The white-hot flame of desire flooded her, centered on her core. She pushed her hips against his hand, matching the rhythm of his ministrations.

  “Now,” she demanded.

  He lifted her and she wound her legs around his waist, pushing her core against his hard cock. Leaning back slightly, he lined his erection up to her channel and drove himself inside her.

  After she encircled his neck with her arms, she peppered kisses along his jaw, to his mouth, and down his neck, stopping to nibble on his collarbone. Passion erupted, sending trails of heat to her lower stomach, making her belly quiver as he drove into her, taking her higher and higher, until she rested on the precipice of ecstasy, before falling over the edge as she came. Her orgasm rippled through her, her moans echoing in the enclosure of the shower.

  He drove into her again and again until he, too, peaked. His groan matched her moans.

  “Good Lord,” she exclaimed as she pushed wet hair from her face. “Wow.”

  He lowered her back onto her feet. “Damn, woman. I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of you.”

  “Good.” A little thrill raced over her at knowing he wasn’t going anywhere fast.

  After actually using the shower to cleanse themselves, they made their way to her kitchen.

  “Dinner smells divine,” he said as he entered the room behind her.

  “With any amount of luck, the roast will be fork tender. I’ll take it out once our guests arrive.”

  “Which should be any time now. Are we eating in the dining room?”

  “Yes, I think that’ll be best.”

  “Since you’re slaving over the slow-cooker, I’ll set the table if you show me where the dishes are.”

  “A smart mouth will get y
ou no food,” she replied with a laugh. “They’re in the cabinet next to the oven.”

  Justin busied himself setting the table while Mel loaded the day’s dirty dishes into the dishwasher and out of sight.

  Her doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” she called out.

  She opened the door. A stunningly beautiful woman stood beside Hoffman. On the tall side, she had a curvaceous figure. Her hair hung in brown waves down her back. Blonde highlights gave her hair a sun-kissed look. Appraising blue eyes gazed at Mel. The woman was sizing her up. Mel’s short, abundantly curvy figure lacked the same seductiveness of her guest’s body.

  Mel cleared her throat. “Hi, Hoffman. You must be Samantha.” She held out her hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Samantha replied as she shook Mel’s hand.

  Something about the woman made Mel uneasy. Anxiousness skittered up her spine. She tried to shake the feeling and dismissed it as her imagination. “Please come in. Justin is in the kitchen. Can I offer either of you something to drink?”

  “You got a cold beer?” Hoffman asked as he followed Mel.

  “Sure do,” Mel replied. “What can I get for you, Samantha?”

  “A beer will be fine. Hi, Justin,” Samantha stated when they entered the kitchen.

  “Hi to you. Great to see you again.” Justin stepped to Samantha and kissed her cheek.

  Mel retrieved two beers from the refrigerator and removed the caps. She handed them to her guests and listened to the murmur of conversation as she removed the roast from the slow cooker and artfully arranged the vegetables around it on a serving platter.

  Unease weighed heavy as she felt like Samantha’s eyes were boring holes in her back. She couldn’t fathom why the woman acted that way, but then a thought crossed her mind. Hoffman would have told his fiancée about her being an agoraphobic. Mel often got those stares until people got over the fact that she had an affliction. Her heart thudded in her chest. The last thing she wanted to feel tonight was anxiety.

  “Dinner is ready,” Mel announced. “The dining room is through that door.”

  “It looks great,” Hoffman commented when they sat around the mission-style table.

  “Please eat up. There’s plenty,” Mel said. She waited until everyone had a heaping pile of food on their plates before she spoke again. “Have you and Hoffman set a wedding date?”

  “Spring of next year,” Samantha answered.

  “Which brings me to a question for you, Justin. Would you care to be a groomsman?” Hoffman asked.

  “I’d be honored. Thanks for considering me,” Justin answered. A dopey, boyish grin spread across his face. He must have been touched by Hoffman’s considerations.

  “If you and Mel are still together, you could bring her,” Samantha suggested. “Oh, sorry,” she said and stared directly at Mel. “I forgot.”

  Mel’s pulse raced. This dinner just started and it wasn’t going well. Had the woman been purposely directing barbs at her, or were they just slips of the tongue? She cleared her throat.

  “No problem,” she fibbed. “My condition is unusual, and a lot of people make arrant comments.”

  “I’ll try to be more careful,” Samantha stated, and then sampled her dinner. “Wow. This is good.”

  “Thank you,” Mel answered.

  She tasted her own food. Flavors exploded on her tongue, and she allowed the pleasure to alleviate the nagging feeling of unease overwhelming her.

  They ate in silence. When the plates were empty, Mel finally spoke. “I’ll clear the dishes. I have red velvet cake for dessert. Who wants some?”

  All three of her companions answered “yes.” Mel ferried the dishes into the kitchen. She realized she forgot to ask about coffee and stepped to the door.

  “You deserve someone who’s normal,” Samantha whispered to Justin.

  “Samantha, knock it off,” Hoffman replied harshly.

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m happy,” Justin answered.

  “How can you be? She won’t even be able to attend our wedding with you. Is that what you want in life?” Samantha chided.

  “As of right now, yes, that is what I want. Leave it at that, Samantha. I know you mean well, but I’m not saying any more on the subject.”

  “I tried,” Samantha replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

  Mel leaned against the wall while her heart pounded wildly in her chest. This night went from bad to worse. The woman did have it in for her. Samantha didn’t even know her and didn’t seem like she wanted to either. Mel panted for breath. Her palms became sweaty, and she wiped them on her jeans.

  Medication. She needed medication. Mel darted to the cabinet above the sink, flung open the door, and reached inside for her prescription. With shaking hands, she removed two small pills from the bottle and dry swallowed them. It would take about twenty minutes for relief to flood her, so she busied herself with preparing dessert dishes.

  Mel pasted a smile on her face and entered the dining room carrying two plates. “Here’s dessert.”

  “Looks good,” Justin commented.

  “I’ll be back with our plates,” Mel said to Justin, and disappeared back into the sanctuary of the kitchen. She gripped the edge of the counter and tried to catch her breath. Normal...she had to act normal.

  She returned to the dining room a short time later with her and Justin’s dessert plates. The foursome made small talk while they ate their cake. Gradually, Mel’s pulse slowed to normal and her breathing evened out. Thankfully, she knew how to play panic attacks off as she’d had them in front of people before.

  The rest of the evening went smoothly thanks to Mel continually directing the conversation to Samantha and Hoffman’s upcoming nuptials. At eight o’clock, the engaged couple bid their goodnight and took their leave. Mel shut the door, leaned against it, and let out a relieved breath.

  “You had to take medicine, didn’t you?” Justin asked.

  Mel didn’t bother to keep the shocked look from crossing her face. “How’d you know?”

  “You look stoned. Your eyes are glossy. It could only be caused by medication. What triggered it?”

  Mel gazed directly into Justin’s eyes. He appeared to be angry, and she couldn’t understand why. “Why are you mad? Samantha basically tried to talk you out of dating me. I’m the one who’s mad.”

  He braced his strong arms beside her head, effectively caging her against the door. “You were with me. There is no reason you should need medication. Sure, she tried to make me see things her way, but her opinion didn’t sway me. That should have calmed you.”

  “That’s not how I’m geared, Justin. She had been making me uneasy all night. The anxiety kept building, and hearing her talk like that just sent me over the edge. Yes, I took two pills. I’m groggy and should lie down.”

  “I guess I don’t understand your condition like I probably should. I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry for what it’s worth.”

  Justin pushed himself off the wall and waited for her to step aside. When Mel did, he kissed her cheek, opened the door, and stepped into the night.

  Her pulse began to pound again as another wave of panic crashed over her. Her medication hadn’t been enough to stave off another attack. She needed to lie down.

  Oh, how she hated her agoraphobia.

  Mel’s panic attack could have ruined perhaps the best thing to ever happen to her in twenty-six years.

  With a heavy, pounding heart, she went into her living room and collapsed onto the couch. She buried her head under one of the throw pillows. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and feeling no need to hold them in, she let the torrent begin.

  * * * *

  What just happened? Justin asked himself as he backed his car out of Mel’s driveway.

  Justin knew he should have been more sensitive about her situation. He didn’t know what triggered her attacks, but he should have known animosity could be a big trigger. Samantha probably thought she’d been doing what was best for
Justin, but the best thing for him had been Mel. He should have just told the woman straight out to shut her mouth. But he didn’t. Instead, he played off the situation like it was nothing.

  Justin banged his hand against the unforgiving steering wheel then leaned his head down and rested his forehead on the cool, leather surround.

  He had made a mistake, and unfortunately, he discovered that fact a little too late. And now Mel was alone in her house, suffering through a panic attack.

  “You are such an idiot,” he chided himself. “Could you have been more of a moron?”

  He should go back and check on her. But by now, she’d be sleeping it off, because the drug would knock her out. So since that wasn’t an option, he continued down her street to the stop sign at the end.

  Tomorrow, Justin told himself. Tomorrow he’d go see her. He loved her, and upsetting her wasn’t part of the plan. The situation had been handled poorly on his part, and he’d have to fix it.

  Justin looked to the left, to the right, and then to the left again. No traffic approached, so he pulled onto Grant Road, one of the busiest streets in East Wenatchee.

  Suddenly the sound of crunching metal, breaking glass, and tires screeching across asphalt rent the night air. Justin’s head bounced off the window and shattered it upon contact. Pain exploded in his head, and his vision dimmed like a candle about to extinguish itself. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear his fogging mind but only more pain erupted.

  Someone had hit his car.

  He blurted out a string of expletives, opened the door, and attempted to exit his vehicle. Justin swung one leg out then the other, but they refused to support his weight and he fell back onto the driver’s seat. Something trickled down the side of his head. The coppery smell of blood reached his nostrils.

  Instinct had him wanting to check on the other driver. He tried once again to exit the vehicle, and this time his legs, though wobbly, held him upright. His vision blackened around the edges.

  Justin fought valiantly to stay conscious, but lost the battle. The last thing he remembered had been cussing when his world faded to black.