The Milkman

by Tabatha Kiss

  Natalie’s mouth drops in a happy gasp as she looks toward the others.

  “No,” Sara says, cutting her off. “You can’t.”

  I expected this. Counting on a yes so quickly would have been foolish of me but I’m not going to back down yet.

  I stand a little taller. “May I ask why?”

  “We’re full,” she spits.

  “Then, why did you hang these fliers all over town?”

  She stands out of her chair and crosses her arms. “We were looking for new members but we aren’t anymore. Besides, you’re not a resident of this town so you’re not eligible to join anyway.”

  I discreetly dig a nail into my palm. “I’m not a resident?”

  “No. Residents are those who have lived here for at least six consecutive months. You have not.”

  Natalie tilts her head. “But Claudia’s only been here three months…”

  Necks twist toward a black-haired girl on the left and her cheeks turn pink.

  Sara clenches her jaw at Natalie. “Claudia is engaged to Drew Warner, who is a resident, so we made an exception.”

  “We did?”

  “Jovie is not eligible to join,” she says. “She can’t be here.”

  I raise my hands in surrender. “I heard you loud and clear, Sara. Don’t need to take it out on her.”

  She seethes, subtly shaking in her shoes. “Have a good night, Jovie,” she says.

  I scan the room and their eyes drop to the floor as soon as we make eye contact. The only one who dares look at me is Natalie, who offers an apologetic smile before I turn to leave.

  I expected this.

  Still stings, though.

  Twenty-Four

  Will

  Will.

  Wake up, Will.

  Dreams and reality have blended a lot in the last few days so I’m not sure if her voice is real or not. It lingers between my ears with a soft lullaby-like vibrato, luring me back to a pleasant sleep.

  “Will!”

  I jolt with the firm tap on my arm. “Hrmm?”

  “Wake up, please.”

  Jovie stands over me, clean and fully-dressed, with a steaming coffee mug between her palms. Her lips curl as I open my eyes and stare up at her.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  “Then…” I sit up, “why aren’t you naked?”

  “Because we have to go to work today.”

  “Oh.” I groan and rub my eyes. “What time it is?”

  “Just after seven. If you get up now, we can grab some breakfast before we go in.”

  My empty stomach tempts me with a growl. “Sounds good.”

  She brings the mug to her lips. “Excellent.”

  “Or…” I reach for her free hand and gently pull her down to me. “We can stay here until we absolutely have to leave and go hungry until lunch.”

  I taste the sweet coffee on her lips but she doesn’t let it last.

  “No,” she says, backing away. “We are out the door and in my car in twenty minutes.”

  “Twenty minutes?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  She spins around and walks out without another word or explanation.

  A coldness twists through my gut as I recognize the undeniable, tell-tale signs of a Jovie scorned.

  The bright-eyed morning glow. Short, punchy sentences. A goddamn time schedule.

  “Uh-oh,” I say to myself.

  Somebody has crossed Jovie Ross.

  I suppose I should be thankful that it wasn’t me this time but I could be seen as an accessory to whatever she has in mind.

  “Jovie?” I ask, sliding out of bed.

  “Nineteen minutes!” I hear across the house.

  I follow her voice into the kitchen where she’s topping off her mug with an almost empty pot. “How many cups have you had?” I ask.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “How long have you been up?”

  “A few hours.”

  I scan the kitchen. My laptop sits on the kitchen table but I’m at a bad angle to see what webpage she’s on. “What have you been doing?” I ask, leaning forward.

  She reaches out and closes it. “Eighteen and a half minutes, Will,” she says, smiling.

  Oh, dear God.

  “Okay.” I back out of the kitchen. “I’m just gonna take a quick shower.”

  “Make it really quick.”

  “I will…”

  Part of me wants to see where this is going. The other part wants to sneak out the bathroom window. That’s life with Jovie for you. Two extremes, both equally as enticing and terrifying as the other.

  I get cleaned up and throw on some clothes, moving fast to keep to her schedule. By the time I’m finished, she’s already standing by the front door with her jacket draped over her arm and her car keys clenched in her fingers.

  “You’re one minute late,” she points out.

  I pause beside her. “And we’re about to add another thirty seconds onto that.”

  She inhales but I silence her with a firm kiss. I feel the tension fall from her shoulders and her lips purse to kiss me back for a few long moments.

  “Good morning,” I whisper.

  She smiles. “Good morning.”

  I open the door for her and she steps outside.

  We pass three diners before it finally sinks in that we aren’t going to breakfast.

  Wherever we’re going, it’s not in Clover. Jovie steers us north on country roads toward Leavenworth, a ten-mile journey that keeps me on the edge of my seat the entire time. Expectation, reality; both just as twisted and blended as recent dreams but there’s no reason to panic just yet.

  Jovie turns off the street and parks the car right next to the Leavenworth County courthouse.

  “Come with me,” she says, grabbing her wallet and shoving her door open.

  I run on auto-pilot, steadily increasing my stride to catch up with her by the entrance.

  Jovie opens the door for me and gestures me inside.

  I don’t move. “Hey, Jove,” I begin, “why are we going to the county courthouse for breakfast?”

  “We’re not,” she says. “I have a quick errand to run first. It’ll only take a minute.”

  “You weren’t charged with a crime, were you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Are you contesting parking tickets?”

  “No.”

  I search her face. “Then…”

  She stares at me, her eyes creeping into narrow yet elegant slits. “After you, Will.”

  I sigh and walk inside. She follows me, instantly slipping her arm around my elbow and leading me down the hallway to the last office on the left.

  As we enter, a woman behind the counter smiles at us. “How can I help you?” she asks.

  Jovie grins back and tugs me inside. “We would like one marriage license, please.”

  My heart stops. “We what?”

  “Oh, congratulations!” the woman coos. “You’re such an adorable couple!”

  “Thank you,” Jovie replies, latching even tighter onto my arm. “I never grow tired of hearing that. Right, sweetie?”

  I flinch as she pokes my chest. “Would you excuse us for a minute?”

  The woman nods and says something in reply but I don’t hear it as I yank Jovie back out into the hallway to get out of earshot.

  “Jovie, what are you doing?”

  Her grin vanishes as she pulls her elbow free, bringing forth the sinister machinations hidden on her face. “I’m getting on that damn party planning committee.”

  “And what part of that requires a marriage license?”

  “Sara thinks she’s being so clever by telling me that her little group is for residents only but I figured out a way to get one step ahead of that.” She points between us. “We’re getting married.”

  “Okay…” I pinch the bridge of my nose as spots take over my vision. “I think I just had a tiny stroke.”

>   “Obviously, what she’s doing is discrimination based on marriage status but this is Clover. It’s much easier to play the game than it is to discuss the rules.”

  “No, no, it’s not,” I say. “We’re not getting married just so you can hang some balloons in the high school gym!”

  “We’re not really getting married, Will.” She lowers her voice. “I just need the paperwork to rattle her cage. Get under her skin. If we’re legally engaged, then she has no grounds to reject me from the committee, by her own admission. She has to let me in. The thing expires in six months anyway. We’ll just let it lapse. No harm done.”

  “No,” I answer.

  She pouts. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s crazy, that’s why!”

  “It is not crazy.”

  “Yes, it is. Jovie, I know what they said about you was wrong and you want to get back at them for it but there are other ways to get involved in Clover.”

  She bites her lip. “But I want to do this.”

  “No.” I take a step back. “I’m out.”

  “By refusing to side with me, you’re directly supporting them.”

  “No, I’m not.” I point a finger. “I support logic and rational thinking and none of you seem to have a firm grasp on either of those right now.”

  “Will, come on. Please,” she begs. “This could be my only shot at redeeming myself to these people. We both know that I can’t do jack shit to help the knitting club or the little league but what can Jovie Ross do better than anyone else? Throw a freakin’ party, that’s what.”

  “Jove, you don’t think this is going a tad bit too far?”

  “No.”

  I roll my eyes. “Unbelievable.”

  “And besides…” she gazes up at me with those big, doe eyes, “if you do this, I might be compelled — as your new fiancée — to let you do that thing to me that you always wanted to do…”

  I lean away from her. “Oh, that’s just low.”

  Her brows bounce. “What do you say, Will?” She waits for a reply as I stare her down. “You can do it whenever you want to. Maybe even tonight…”

  My head falls in defeat. As I raise it again, she gives me that smile made up of equal parts affection and possession.

  Jovie Ross owns me.

  “It better be tight,” I say.

  She shrugs. “No reason why it shouldn’t be.”

  I nod.

  We step back into the office and Jovie wraps her arms around my elbow again as we glide closer to the counter.

  I force a smile. “We would like one marriage license, please.”

  The woman behind the counter giggles again, shaking the blonde curls around her head as she turns to grab a form from the stack by her computer.

  I look down at Jovie’s beaming face. My Jovie, as I’ve always said.

  For better or worse, apparently.

  Twenty-Five

  Jovie

  Stupid three-day waiting period.

  I wanted to have the thing in my hands today so I could rub it in Sara’s face as soon as possible but I guess I’ll have to wait on that. That’s fine. A little delayed gratification never hurt anybody.

  And it’s not like I don’t have a new fake fiancé to keep myself busy with.

  “Hello!” I announce as I push open his front door. “Will?”

  “In here!” he shouts from his room.

  I follow his voice, sliding my jacket off while keeping a grip on the plastic bag latched to the tip of my fingers. “First, sorry I’m late. Some kid messed up the dinosaur display tonight so I stayed late to fix it. I would not have been able to sleep with the allosaurus mashed between the brachiosaurus and the carnotaurus, you know?”

  I reach his room to find him lounging on his bed with a book in his hands.

  “Hello there,” I say.

  “Hey,” he greets me. “You know, I never thought to ask this before but what is the deal with you and dinosaurs?”

  “They ruled the world before us, Will,” I joke. “They deserve our respect.”

  “Oh. Of course. Silly me.”

  I walk over and set the plastic bag down on the edge of the bed beside me. “Whatcha doing?” I ask.

  “Reading,” he answers.

  “Well, I see that. Anything good?”

  “Not really.”

  I lean down to unlace my boots, chuckling quietly to myself. “We’re fake engaged less than one day and we’re already that couple.”

  “What couple?”

  “The kind that turns in at nine at night to read books they hate.”

  “Well, luckily,” he says, closing the book, “we’re fake engaged, so we can be fake that couple, too.”

  “Ah. I like the way you think, Myers.” I slide my boots off onto the floor.

  “Speaking of fake engaged, I have something for you.”

  I smirk. “Does it start with a D?”

  “No.” He hops up and wanders over to his dresser before pausing. “Actually, yeah. It does.”

  “Is it big, too?”

  “It’s big enough,” he answers as he roots through his sock drawer.

  “Well, that’s an interesting answer.”

  Will walks back over and extends his hand, making my breath catch in my throat. A small velvet box rests in his fingers, one that I never thought I’d ever see again.

  “If you start telling people we’re engaged, they’re gonna wanna see a ring, right?” he asks.

  I blink, realizing the obvious. “Oh, yeah. Right…”

  He moves an inch closer, daring me to take it. I hesitate before forcing myself to pick it up. My fingertips sink into the soft velvet exterior and I take a moment to experience it before opening it.

  The ring sits inside. A square diamond in a band of white gold.

  “I can’t believe you kept it,” I say.

  “Couldn’t bring myself to take it back,” he says, shrugging once. “Never felt like mine to return anyway.”

  I pinch it between two fingers and slide it free from the box. Four years its been sitting here, locked away in his sock drawer. It still looks brand new. Not a scratch or smudge on it.

  “You know, Will,” I say, catching my breath, “I never got the chance to tell you this before, but… you kind of nailed it.”

  He nods. “It was like a movie, honestly. Just knew it was the one the second I saw it.”

  “It’s really beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” He pauses. “Listen, Jovie, I’ll support you in this but I don’t like it.”

  I look up at him, my insides twisting.

  “When I asked you to marry me before, it meant something,” he says. “It wasn’t a whim and I sure as hell didn’t do it to please anyone else. I did it because I loved you and I wanted to make you happy. I guess if this fake engagement serves the same purpose, then go ahead, but don’t expect me to agree with it.”

  My heart skips a few beats and I feel a quick rush of blood to my head as I stand up to look him in the eyes.

  “Will…” My voice falls.

  “What?” he asks, staring down at me.

  I push onto my toes to kiss him once. His lips purse slightly out of habit, non-committal and chaste.

  “I loved you, too,” I say.

  Will studies my face, his eyes shifting from my lips to my cheeks. I wait, standing on needles to see how he’ll respond but he says nothing.

  I feel his hand tracing down my arm, traveling slowly to my left wrist. He turns it over to reveal the ring resting in my hand.

  I give it to him and he slides it onto my finger. It easily pushes over the knuckles to fit perfectly at its base. Shimmering and sparkling, just like any other ring would, but no other piece of jewelry has ever made my heart beat like this before.

  Will holds my finger and stares at the ring. A sadness takes his eyes, one of wasted time and painful memories. He wanted this before. I was too stupid to admit that I did, too.

  But that’s not all we lost back th
en.

  He lays a hand beneath my chin and turns my face up as he leans in for a soft kiss. I let it wash over me, closing my eyes as his touch glides down my neck.

  I part my lips, letting his tongue push inside, warm and uninhibited. He flicks the buttons free on my blouse to gain access to my skin. I let him have me, enjoying his touch as he feels beneath the blouse and over my bra.

  Will leans over to cup my rear and picks me up. I shake from a dizzy spell, somehow grounded by the constant urge of his kiss as he carries me to his bed and lays me down.

  I lie back on the pillows and smile as he towers over me on his strong arms.

  “So…” he says, his lips hovering an inch away from mine, “I recall you mentioning something about you being compelled to do something for me…”

  I flash a teasing wink. “You mean as your new fiancée?”

  He kisses me. “Yes.”

  I scratch my nails beneath his shirt and he lets me pull it over his head. I admire his tempting physique, feeling a deep throb take hold of me.

  “I may have been compelled to stop by the gas station on the way home…” I say, glancing over his shoulder at the plastic bag still resting on the bed’s edge.

  Will squints as he leans back to take hold of it. I sit up on my elbows to catch his reaction as he reveals the red bottle of lubricant stashed inside.

  He smirks and rolls it across the bed to rest near my arm. “Well, if there’s one thing Jovie Ross is always prepared for…”

  “Considering what’s going to be on the receiving end, you’re damn right I came prepared.”

  He laughs. “You sure you want to?”

  I lie back down. “Sure, why not? There’s a first time for everything.”

  His eyes fall to the space between us.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Just never thought that I’d be your first time for anything,” he says.

  I grin. “You were my first for some things, Will.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like what?”

  I think back, biting my lip at the pleasant memories. “Sixty-nine,” I say.

  He raises a brow as he shifts forward within reach. I watch him pop the button free on my jeans and he takes hold of my zipper.