by Shauna Allen
I battled that all day Sunday while I worked on her bike as she slept inside. Something about her distress called to the deepest, most protective parts of me, and I couldn’t help but want to take care of her. So, again, I made her dinner, made sure she took her pain pills, and watched historical television because it seemed to make her happy. Even as I gave, I found myself being fulfilled in a way I never had before. She was quickly becoming addictive.
By Monday morning, I was no closer to an answer, but the text message I found waiting on my phone when I woke up soothed me, making me smile.
Good morning boyfriend . . . thx 4 this weekend. : )
My pleasure, I texted back. Hope u feel better
I do. Then: My BOYFRIEND takes good care of me and gives the best foot rubs <3
I couldn’t help my laugh. Anyone who knew me up until this point would think I was going insane by the silly grin on my face, but I didn’t care, all alone in my bedroom.
I replied quickly: Glad my GIRLFRIEND appreciates my services ; )
I stared stupidly at the screen, waiting for her reply. I wasn’t disappointed.
She does . . . and she’d give anything to kiss you this morning xxx
I glanced at the clock. Could I . . . did I dare?
Yes. I did.
Without texting back, I loped to the bathroom and dove into the quickest shower I’d had since prison, threw on some clothes, then went outside and roared my bike to a start. Without another thought, I sped out of the lot.
Seven minutes later, I was at Rachel’s door. It swung open and she stood staring at me with a seriously puzzled look on her face. I let my eyes rake over her from her loose hair and half made up face, all the way down one of her sexy power suits in a deep forest green, ending with her tiny bare toes, painted a soft seashell pink. Her mouth popped open as she seemed to fight for words.
“Bad time?” I grinned.
“Uh . . .” She glanced behind me to the traffic moving down the street and my bike still idling in her driveway. “What are you—?”
I swooped in and stole the words from her mouth with a kiss ripped from the very depths of my soul. She tasted like Heaven. Sweet and light, with just a hint of secrets. I kissed her until she relaxed into my arms and moaned softly. Once I’d had my fill, I drew back on a ragged breath and stared into her dark, dazed eyes. “Good morning. Girlfriend.”
“Are you serious?”
“About what?”
She cupped my face in both hands as a shocking smile lit her face. “You seriously drove all the way over here just to kiss me?”
I realized in that moment that I would’ve done anything she asked. She already had me firmly wrapped around her little finger and I didn’t mind one bit. “Your wish is my command.”
Her giggle bubbled up, at odds with her serious attire. She pressed another swift kiss to my chin. “You are something, Jesse Joyner. I think I won the boyfriend lottery with you.”
I let my fingers wander over her hips. “So, you really feel better?”
“Yeah. I took some more pain medicine this morning and it’s keeping me upright. If I have to knock off early today, I will, but I have a lot to do at the office.”
I nodded, satisfied that she was taking care of herself. Reluctantly, I let her go and stepped back. “Okay. Then I’ll get to work myself. Call me later? Maybe we can do dinner or something?”
“Okay . . .” She paused and frowned. “Oh, wait. I can’t. I have plans with Jewel. I’m so sorry. Maybe tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow’s great. Just drop me a text or call later today to let me know how you’re doing, okay? I want you to take care of yourself.”
“Sure.” Her voice and face had taken on a dreamy quality as she stared at me like I’d hung the moon. “Talk to you soon then.”
I leaned over and pressed one final kiss to her sweet lips. “Soon.”
I rode to the shop with a truly light heart. I could hardly remember feeling like this since . . . not since I was a kid. Definitely not since that summer when every single thing changed in me. Everything was ripped from me, sullying me forever.
I followed Trace’s aqua Chevy as it turned into the lot in front of me and parked between him and Micah’s Jeep. Glancing through his passenger side window, I caught sight of little Ryder, bringing the ugliness I’d just shoved away right back. To go back in time and be as innocent as him again. Maybe my life would’ve turned out differently. Bad things simply happening to good people in life was a fucking bullshit cliché that sugarcoated the truth. Evil acts perpetrated by evil people always cursed the innocent who happened to be in their way, and it was unavoidable.
“Hey,” Trace said as he uncoiled from his seat and faced me over the roof of his car.
“Hey,” I said, my voice gruff. “Skipping school today?” I asked, tipping my head to Ryder, who was staring at me with big eyes.
“Not exactly.” Trace bent and spoke softly to Ryder before facing me again. “He’s sick. He’s running a fever, and we were up all last night puking. I’ll have to stay home with him. Blake didn’t answer his cell, so we came to let him know I won’t be in today.”
I glanced again at the boy. “Sorry to hear it, dude. If you wanna get him home, I’ll let Blake know.”
“You sure?”
I stood and stowed my helmet. “Absolutely. Go home. We got this.”
He tapped the roof once. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
I nodded and watched as he got back in the car and took off. I felt for them both. Trace worked hard, trying to be a good dad, but I knew how he struggled. How sometimes he was lost without a woman to help with the softer touches a kid needs, without someone to bounce things off of, to help in times like this.
I peered over as Blake rumbled in, his blue Camaro taking up the farthest parking space. My best friend had been through hell himself, but he had it all now and he deserved it.
I waited until he ambled my way. “Mornin’.”
“Hey, Jesse. Good weekend?”
I shrugged and followed him to the front door. “It was all right.” He opened the door and held it for me. “So, Trace was just here. He has to stay home with Ryder today. Kid’s sick as a dog, poor little dude.”
“Aw, that’s too bad.” Shoving his shades to the top of his head, he studied me as we headed into the shop. “You okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Funny. I heard from a little birdie that you’re better than just okay. Anything you want to tell me?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Like what?”
He laughed and unlocked his office door. “I dunno. Like you’re hooking up with my woman’s best friend?”
“I’m not hooking up with her.” I hadn’t accounted for the news of our budding relationship spreading so fast. “How do you know about it, anyway?”
He tilted his head. “You’ve got a few things to learn about women, don’t you? Delilah and Rachel are best friends and I’m pretty sure they tell each other everything. I’ve gotten used to having no secrets. Guess you’d better, too.”
I rolled my eyes and plopped across from him in a squeaky vinyl chair. “I guess.”
“So what is going on with you guys?”
I paused. I trusted my friend with my life, but I wasn’t sure what I was comfortable sharing with him. It was all so new, so . . . special. Deep down, I was afraid if I said too much, it would all dissolve like a sandcastle at high tide. “I’m not sure.”
“How can you not be sure?” He grabbed us both a bottle of water from his office fridge and handed me one. “Seems pretty simple to me.”
I chugged, wishing it was sugary soda. He sipped and studied me quietly. God, I was still getting used to interpersonal relationships again. Prison had been nothing but a jumble of humanity, all of our freedoms stripped away, our entire lives regimented. Relationships there revolved around who benefitted who, what you had to offer to keep yourself safe. The occasional friendly conversation was usually colored by
the need for survival and dreams of the outside. Sometimes, now that I was free, all I wanted was to go back. To have my life neatly ordered for me, to not have to feel anything but anger. There’s a certain freedom in embracing your primal nature.
“We’ve just started talking.” I swallowed another mouthful. “Guess we’re dating or exclusive or whatever. I don’t want to make a big deal about it, okay?”
“Okay.” His grin made me cringe.
“Okay.”
He emptied his water bottle in a couple more pulls then faced me. “So . . .” I braced myself. “How’s it going with Riley’s Harley?”
I released a breath. Safe territory again. “Good. Real good.” I told him about my progress and the parts I’d ordered to get the transmission in shape. I also mentioned a shipment of parts I was waiting on for the Indian.
“Awesome. I know Jeff’ll be happy.”
I nodded and stood. “I hope so.” I left to get to work and let him start on the boring book stuff with Micah.
After lunch, I was wrist-deep in carb cleaner and grease when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I wiped my fingers on a rag and yanked it out, stifling a smile when Micah glanced over. Swiping the screen, I read my text.
Promised I’d check in . . . all is well. Cramps manageable even though Angelo is not : (
He bothering u? I texted back, my teeth gritted as I pictured that asshole.
No, she answered quickly. Just being typical a-hole. Nothing 4 u 2 worry about
Do u have court 2day?
Nope. Paperwork only. Fun times
I let myself picture her in the rocking suit from this morning. I bet u look good doing it
Stop it or I’ll summon my knight in shining armor for another kiss
Now I grinned. Your wish is my command.
Rachel
I met Jewel at a little Mexican restaurant that had the most killer margaritas in town. Baybridge may be a small town with not a lot to write home about, but Lupe’s was a hidden treasure.
“Hey, girl.” I hugged Jewel once I found her huddled over a drawing pad at a corner table. She already had a bowl of chips and salsa there, so I sat and scooped up a bite. It had turned out to be a long day of paper pushing and I was starving.
“Hi.”
I smiled at the waitress and ordered our drinks. It was our ritual. Two frozen margaritas with salt, at least one bowl of chips, and gooey, cheesy enchilada goodness. Comfort food. “Whatcha working on?” I glanced at her notepad.
She shrugged and flipped it closed. “Just doodling.”
Just doodling, my ass. I’d caught a glimpse of a stunning beachy landscape. “Did you ever hear back about that teaching position?”
“Not yet. Maybe later this week. They still had a couple more people to interview.”
I sipped my drink when it arrived and we placed our orders. “Well, I’m sure you’ll get it. You’re such a special artist, those kids would be lucky to have you teach them.”
She smiled sweetly. “Thank you for saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“So, how about you? Anything new at the office? Angelo still being a jerk?”
I studied her face. I knew she had a history of abuse that she carefully masked behind smiles and shyness, and the last thing I wanted was to bog her down with my ex issues. “Yeah, but he’s manageable.” For some reason, I found myself telling her about Daisy Williams and how I was feeling pressured by Angelo and the others.
Jewel’s green eyes penetrated me as if she could read me through and through. “Are you thinking about leaving the firm?”
“What? No.” I glanced down at my drink. “Why would you think that?”
“Because. I know you pretty well by now and I’ve never seen you this unhappy about work. Your usual spunk and drive seem to be disappearing. The Rachel I know won’t stand for that too long. She fights for her dreams.”
My jaw dropped. “You think all that about me?”
“I know that about you.”
“Huh.” Definitely something to consider. And she was right, the discontent was sneaking in and making my days longer and less fulfilling.
“Oh.” She reached under the table and rifled through her big leather bag. I sometimes wondered what in the world could be in a bag so big. Maybe all her art stuff? “Here.” She handed me a large manila package that was obviously packed full of paperwork.
I accepted the fat envelope. “What’s this?”
“The package from your brother.”
I glanced at the postmark before sliding my finger under the flap. Inside were what looked like a big stack of legal documents, some bank statements, and several receipts, all dated over a decade before. In front was a note from my brother.
Hey Sis,
I found all this when I was going through Dad’s old chest from his bedroom. Guess we missed it when we were cleaning out stuff. I figured you’d want to read them over.
Call me once you do.
Love,
West
Why would my brother want to talk to me after I sifted through a bunch of legal crap? Not exactly his area of expertise, so that must’ve been the reason he sent it on to me. But we’d already gone over the Will and divided the assets. Some old papers were no big deal. I tucked them into my purse to look at another time.
“Everything all right?” Jewel asked.
“Yeah. Thanks for bringing it to me.”
“No worries.”
The waitress served our dinner and we dug in. I was finally feeling a bit better as my period eased up. We talked about the usual stuff . . . work, the last documentary I watched, my dad’s bike.
“How’s the restoration going, anyway?” she asked as she scooped up a cheesy bite of enchilada.
“Good. I have great faith in Jesse.”
“I’ll bet.” She smirked.
“What?”
“Nothing. I just heard from a little birdie that you guys have more than a business relationship going now. What gives?”
“Who told you that?”
I tilted my head and narrowed my gaze when she didn’t immediately answer. “Fine. Delilah heard something from Leta about you guys sucking face at a family dinner and she passed the info on to me.”
Uh oh. I was going to be in big trouble with my bestie for not telling her first.
“So, is it true?” Jewel prompted.
I picked up my drink and downed the last of the icy liquor. “Yup. Totally true.”
“And . . . ?”
Sigh. “And we’re officially together. Like exclusive.” I carefully set my glass back on the coaster. “And I’m just as desperately head over heels for him as I ever was. Maybe more.”
I realized just how true that statement was when I got home. On my front porch was a single, perfect red rose, a DVD of the original 1965 Dr. Zhivago movie with Omar Sharif, and a note.
Thank you for the book. I loved it. Thought you might want a classic to add to your collection.
Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Sleep well, GIRLFRIEND.
Love,
Jesse (AKA Your Boyfriend)
xx
I kicked off my heels and leaned against the door as I closed it behind me, a silly, lovestruck grin on my face. God, where had he come from? Yes, I’d had the biggest crush on him since high school, but the Jesse Joyner I was getting to know was miles better than any dream I’d conjured up. I lifted the rose to my nose and inhaled. I could so easily fall in love with him . . . if I wasn’t already.
I padded to my bedroom and changed into my lazy clothes before I texted him.
U r 2 sweet. Thx.
His reply was quick. Ur welcome
I plopped down on the couch, debating what to say next that wouldn’t sound like a desperately infatuated girlfriend, but he beat me to it.
U feel better?
Yes. Much.
I’m glad. A long pause, then: I read up on your condition. Sucks.
I frowned at my phone. He’d
spent the time to research endometriosis? Instead of a text back, I found his name in my favorite contacts and dialed.
“Hello?” His deep voice soothed me like nothing else.
I stared up at the ceiling. “Did you really research female reproductive issues?”
“I did.” I heard the smile in his voice.
“Why?”
“Because it affects you and I wanted to understand it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut at the seriousness of his tone as my heart constricted tightly in my chest. I couldn’t think of the last time someone had been so thoroughly wonderful in their concern for me. I bit my tongue before professing my love. Instead, I croaked, “Can you come over?” I was suddenly desperate to see him. To touch him.
“It’s late. I can’t.”
Reality crashed down as I glanced at the clock. Quarter ‘til ten. “Sorry, I didn’t think. I just—”
“I know. Me, too.” His breath puffed out over the line. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow.”
We hung up and I held the phone next to my heart as if to capture him there forever.
Jesse
For some reason I couldn’t sleep. Anxiety rode my veins like a freight train and nightmares plagued what was left of me. I woke in a sweat with excruciatingly morphed visions of my ugliest truths trailing me like hell hounds.
“Nobody will believe you if you tell,” he said. “Besides . . . nobody loves a dirty little boy like you . . . they’ll all know you liked it. Didn’t you?”
The prison bars slam, reverberating my shame and locking me in as he stares at me with pity in his eyes.
Didn’t you?
Didn’t you?
Didn’t you?
I sat up and raked a hand over my face, trying to shove the bile back down my throat. How was it, after all these years, that the wounds could feel so fresh?
My phone chirped with a text message so I grabbed it for a distraction.
Good morning sexy man o mine! Can’t wait 2 c u
I sucked in a lungful of air and let all the emotion I’d woken up with whoosh out with a deep exhale. Rachel always had a way of making everything feel all right.