The Milkman

by Tabatha Kiss

  “You serious?”

  “Yeah, he doesn’t really...” She pulls out an empty glass bottle and sets it on the table beside the new ones. “Care,” she spits out.

  I turn to face her as her eyes start to swell. “Kimber?”

  She wipes her gloved fingers beneath her eyes. “Thank you for the milk, Nate, but do you think you can go? Please...”

  I don’t move. “What’s wrong?”

  Kimber exhales and presses her lips together to hide that they’re trembling. “It’s nothing,” she says, her voice barely audible.

  “Doesn’t look like nothing.” I slide my hat off and toss it onto the table. “What’s up? You can talk to me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” she says, chuckling once.

  “Try me.”

  “No, I mean...” Her head shakes. “I wouldn’t want to foil my husband’s master plan to seize your farm.”

  “His what?” I laugh.

  “When we got back from the bar the other night he seemed so happy,” she says, her eye glistening. “I thought that maybe he was proud of me for taking a chance and getting out of the house. You know, getting better.”

  “And he wasn’t?”

  “No, he was. He was so fucking ecstatic that I knew you. He started asking me if I could talk you into selling your farm since we’re such old friends and all.”

  I scoff. “Jeez...”

  “He didn’t even care that I...” She sniffs, fighting the tears a little harder. “I haven’t left the house like that in nearly a year. And he cared more about what that could mean for him... than what it meant for me. Or for the two of us. It was all about him and that damn farm.”

  A tear rolls down her cheek. She quickly brushes it off and turns away from me.

  I take a soft step closer. “Kimber.”

  She bends forward, obviously sobbing. “You should go,” she says.

  “I’m not leaving.” I lay a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her back to face me. “Come here.”

  I slide my arms around her, holding her close. I expect her to push me away but she doesn’t. She leans in and buries her face in my chest. Her scent wafts up from her hair and I try not to focus on it. This isn’t about me, no matter how much I’d like to focus on how Kimber Kyle is in my arms right now.

  “He doesn’t love me anymore,” she says.

  I rub her back. “I’m sure he does.”

  “No...” She turns her shaking head up. “He won’t even look at me,” she says, her blonde hair sticking to her cheeks. “All I want is for him to look at me. Not through me. Not around me. At me. I want him to see that I’m still me. I’m a little bit broken but I’m still me…”

  Kimber takes a quick step backward out of my arms. I drop them to my side, giving her the space she needs as she recoils in shame.

  “I’m sorry,” she says.

  “Don’t be,” I say.

  She half-turns away to look at her canvas. “I didn’t mean to unload on you like that.”

  “It’s okay.” I smile. “Oddly enough, you’re not the first sobbing woman I’ve comforted recently. I’m getting pretty good at it.”

  “God...” She sighs. “That’s right. You just lost your dad and here I am, whining about my stupid shit.”

  “It’s not stupid,” I say. “Honestly, it sounds rough.”

  She nods. “He wasn’t always like this. After the accident, he just...”

  “Changed?” I ask.

  “Not exactly. He was always kind of a... well, you know.”

  “A total douche?” I say.

  She laughs. “Yeah. But not to me. I thought I was immune. I thought I was worthy.” Her eyes roll back. “Sounds so stupid to think about now.”

  “So...” I pause. “Sorry if this is a shitty question, but... why haven’t you left him?”

  “You mean why haven’t I divorced him and taken half of what’s legally mine?” She cocks her head. “You think a VanHouten would dare part with that kind of money?”

  I frown. “He won’t let you go?”

  “No,” she says, taking a breath. “I keep thinking that things will get better, you know? You’d think that he’d be the one person who understands what I’m going through. The one I can count on to tell me I’m beautiful, even if it’s all a lie.” Her shoulders bounce. “I guess if there’s one positive thing you can say about Curtis VanHouten, it’s that he’s no liar.”

  I lean back, stunned at the thought. “Kimber, you are beautiful.”

  Her breath catches in her throat. She turns slightly and looks at me out of the corner of her exposed eye.

  “Nate, you don’t have to...”

  I step closer, gently bending at the hip to try and get a better look at her. “Kimber, look at me,” I say.

  She hesitates as a new trail of tears falls down her cheek.

  I raise my left hand and she flinches with wide eyes. I stop, letting it linger in the space between us as she stares at me.

  “Kimber,” I whisper her name again and her gaze softens. “It’s okay...”

  She turns her head and curiosity spreads along her face. My fingertips graze her right cheek, firing a sudden shockwave up my arm and down my spine. She doesn’t move. She lets me draw a line up her cheekbone. I push her hair back as I go, revealing the tangled web of scars clawing down the right side of her face.

  But I don’t care about them. I care about the girl behind those fearful eyes.

  I tuck her hair behind her ear and leave it there. “See?” I ask, smiling. “You’re beautiful.”

  Kimber exhales a quivering breath. A few spare tears build-up behind her eyelashes. I wipe away the line on her cheek, slowly moving my hand down until my thumb rests beneath her bottom lip.

  My heart jolts in my chest as we lock eyes. I flex my jaw, feeling a twisted mix of sadness and anger. Sadness for her because there’s a not a damn reason in the world for Kimber fucking Kyle to think she’s not beautiful.

  Anger for him for making her feel that way.

  I tilt her head up as I lean over and I don’t stop until my lips touch hers.

  Eleven

  Kimber

  His mouth touches mine and the world stops.

  I nearly gasp, I would if my body could remember how. My lips purse on their own, blending with his without a moment to think or breathe.

  I kiss him back.

  I kiss Nate Scott.

  I kiss…

  Not my husband.

  “I’m sorry, I...” I turn my lips away. “I can’t. I’m—”

  “I know,” he says, hovering over me. “I knew it was wrong. I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry...”

  We stand still, barely moving as we breathe in each other’s air.

  “Do you want me to leave?” he asks.

  My muscles lock in place.

  Yes, I think.

  That’s the correct answer. It’d be easier to say it out loud if he didn’t have that soft hand still clinging to my cheek.

  “Nate,” I whisper, hesitating.

  “Tell me to go and I’ll go,” he says, his finger slowly moving toward my ear again. “You can forget this ever happened.”

  My lips twitch. “Would you forget?”

  “Are you kidding?” He smiles. “You’re Kimber Kyle.”

  I look up into his playful eyes. “Nate…”

  “Kimber...” he leans closer, “if you don’t tell me to go right now, I’m going to do it again.”

  “Nate—”

  He crushes his mouth on mine. I open my arms to him, falling even deeper into his warm embrace as his hands roam behind me to rest on my lower back.

  My heart pounds. It’s been so long since I’ve been touched this way, held this way, kissed this way. I feel the desire on his breath, the trembling of his hands, the bulge of his groin…

  I should stop this. I should tell him to go. I’ll let him keep his teenage dream come true but this can’t go on. This can’t...

 
I’m a married woman.

  I part my lips and his tongue massages mine. I tighten my grip on his body as my knees buckle and my ankles sway. Nate flexes, easily holding me up as he eases me backward onto the kitchen table.

  I’m a married...

  His hands move up my curves, graze my breasts.

  I’m…

  His lips drop to my neck and he kisses me with a growl in his throat.

  I...

  His touch slides under my sweater and I feel his hand touch the scars on my ribs.

  I tense up.

  “Stop—!” I gasp.

  I jolt backward but he’s got me pinned against the table. The glass bottles shift on top as the table legs scratch along the hardwood floor.

  Nate pulls his hands away. “I’m sorry,” he says, breathing hard.

  I hug my waist, clinging to the sweater and forcing it back down. “I’m not...” My voice breaks. “I don’t want you to see—”

  “Shh,” he whispers. “It’s okay. You don’t have to show me.”

  I cower under his gaze as guilt fills my gut. My eyes burn and my lips tremble. I keep my head down, feeling ready to collapse.

  “Kimber,” he says. “Look at me.”

  I take in his soothing voice. Slowly, I do as he asks me. I turn my head up again, staring into those darn playful eyes of his.

  With a smile, he leans in and kisses my forehead. Then, he flicks my hair out from behind my ear, letting it fall back down to its usual place.

  “You’re beautiful,” he says again.

  My teeth chatter in my mouth, wrecked by a burst of warmth I haven’t felt in so long. Goosebumps travel from my fingers to my toes. Everything radiates brand new.

  “Say that again,” I say.

  He smiles wider, still hovering so close to my lips. “You’re beautiful,” he says. “And he doesn’t deserve you.”

  I tilt my head. “Nate...”

  “He might have once, but...” His hands find their way back to my arms. “Not anymore. He shouldn’t make you feel like this. He should be standing where I am now. He’s the one who should call you beautiful, you’re right about that.” I shiver beneath his touch as it slowly climbs up my arms. “He’s the one who should be kissing you, not me. But if I’m gonna be honest here, I’m happy he’s not.”

  I look up into his bright face, unable to stop the smiling stretching along my mouth. “You are?”

  “Close your eyes,” he whispers.

  I raise a sharp brow.

  He chuckles. “You can trust me. Close your eyes.”

  I let my lids fall and I take a soothing breath.

  Nate takes my left hand and guides my fingers to grip the back of his right hand. “Show me where you want to be touched,” he says.

  “What?” I ask, my eyes still closed.

  “Guide my hand,” he says. “I won’t move it anywhere else, I swear.”

  I tremble as my heart pounds. His hand sits loosely in mine, ready and willing to be moved and placed wherever I want it to go. I exhale, relaxing my thoughts as I bring his open palm to my left cheek again. It’s a good place to start.

  After a moment, I gently slide it down to my chin. He shifts his thumb to rest beneath my bottom lip and my tongue twitches on the roof of my mouth.

  “Can I do this?” he asks, giving it a slow swipe toward the edge of my mouth.

  I nod. “Yes,” I breathe.

  He leans in again and his lips graze my forehead as I feel another swipe along my lip. I let my instincts drive us forward as I inch his hand down to my neckline.

  “And here,” I say.

  His fingertips travel from my chin to rest on my sweater just above my collarbone.

  “Like this?” he whispers as he gently tilts my face upward. He kisses me again, softly and slowly.

  “Yes,” I say, breathing harder. Our mouths blend into another kiss for a second longer, the sensation twinging every nerve in my body.

  My body begs for more and I move his hand a little lower.

  His palm stiffens against my left breast. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  Nate kneads me once with his fingers and I feel my nipples stand as chills run down my back. My jaw hangs open as I inhale sharply. A burst of pleasure expels from my core and I press my lips even harder against his. His tongue massages mine, deepening our kiss as his hand continues the soft touch on my breast. He shifts his lips to the side to kiss my cheek, leaving a trail of small kisses as he moves downward along my jawline.

  “For the record,” he says, smiling, “you can touch me anywhere you want.”

  I laugh and tilt my head back, submitting to the heat of his breath as he kisses my neck.

  “Hey, neighbor! You in there?”

  Nate rushes backward, letting go of me as Jovie’s voice calls out from outside. I hop off the table, quickly pushing my hair back in place in front of my cheek just before she appears in the open doorway.

  Jovie shoves her smiling face inside. The edges of her mouth twitch the moment she sees Nate standing beside me.

  “Oh, hey, Nate.” She folds her hands in front of her, one of them clenching a paperback book. “Whatcha guys doing?”

  “Nothing,” we both say.

  Nate clears his throat. “I’m just making a delivery,” he says.

  “And I was just...” I pause and gesture to the easel. “He wanted to see what I was working on, so...”

  “It’s pretty good, right?” he asks Jovie.

  Jovie’s little, brown eyes hop back and forth between us repeatedly before they finally flick over to the canvas. “Yeah,” she answers with enthusiasm. “It’s beautiful, actually.”

  She takes a few steps into the kitchen, her head tilting as she studies it and I grow another shade of red. I don’t usually like sharing my paintings but if this excuse masks what was really going on, then I guess it’s a shade of red I’ll have to handle.

  “Anyway, I should get going,” Nate says. He turns away from Jovie to wipe his lips and grabs the empty bottles off the table, along with his hat. “I’ll see you guys on Wednesday...”

  I nod.“Yeah. You, too.”

  Jovie waves. “Bye, Nate!”

  Nate walks out, his gaze taking one final look at me before he disappears out the back door.

  “To bed with you.”

  I flinch and look at Jovie. “What?”

  “That’s the name of the book,” she says, extending her hand. “For tomorrow’s book club. I finally remembered it.”

  “Oh!” I take the paperback from her extended hand. “Thank you. I, uh... I’ve actually read this one.”

  Jovie groans. “Apparently, I’m the only woman in the world who hasn’t.”

  I chuckle. “At least I’ll show up prepared.”

  “A step ahead of me already.” She crosses her arms and sighs. “Typical Kimber Kyle. Or, VanHouten, I mean. Sorry, old habit.”

  “Yeah.” I nod as I lick my tingling lips. “VanHouten,” I repeat.

  I’m Kimber VanHouten.

  I’m a married woman.

  Twelve

  Nate

  Well, I guess we all knew this day would come eventually.

  I’m that milkman now.

  I turn off onto the highway, pushing my toes into the gas to gun it even faster. The engine roars and I blaze past the Clover, Kansas sign and civilization disappears behind me. Nothing but bright, green fields for miles and miles and I just kissed Kimber fucking VanHouten.

  I press harder on the gas.

  What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. That much is obvious. She was there, standing in front of me with tears in her eyes and her lips were so soft and plump and I couldn’t stop myself. Neither could she. She wanted it. She liked it when I kissed her and when I touched her and if Jovie hadn’t shown up at that moment…

  I adjust my jeans, shifting my hard-on into a more comfortable position as I take a curve at high speed.

  I wonder how far it would ha
ve gone. Would Kimber have pushed my hand lower? I can still feel her warm tongue against mine. Her sudden intake of breath echoes in my head as my hand glided down her chest. Her soft, perky breast in my palm. Christ, I just wanted to—

  Oh, fuck.

  There’s something standing in the middle of the road.

  No, not just something.

  A cow.

  I slam on the brakes, my insides churning with the sudden change in inertia. Empty bottles rattle in the back. A few of them fall and break along the floor. I hold my breath and clench my eyes shut as time goes just a little too slow for comfort.

  The truck stops just short of the cow’s blank face. I open my eyes and glare at its familiar markings. Those big eyes. They’re stared into my soul once before.

  “Gertie?”

  I ease off the brake and turn off onto the shoulder, being extra careful not to hit this goddamn cow. I turn off the engine and hop out, looking both ways and listening for any incoming traffic that might take that turn just a little too fast like I did.

  I stare her down. “Dammit, Gertie!” I say. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  She raises her head. “Moo-OOO!”

  I hook a few strong fingers around her collar. “Come on,” I say, yanking her toward the shoulder.

  She doesn’t budge.

  “Get off the road, you stupid heif—”

  “Moo—OOOOOOO!”

  “You beautiful, majestic creature,” I say instead. “Let’s go.”

  Gertie raises her hoofs and lets me guide her off the road. I look out across the field, counting the half-mile or so walk back to the farm.

  “A cow who roams, roams for a reason.” I click my tongue. “What’s your reason, eh?”

  She doesn’t answer. Not sure why I expected her to.

  We continue on, taking slow strides along the road. A few cars pass by over the next minute or two. I ignore them while I focus on getting my pulse back to normal but it’s still racing. Not from that near-death head-on-collision with Gertie here.

  From that kiss.

  “I kissed Kimber VanHouten,” I say out loud.

  I look at Gertie. She doesn’t react.