Cocktails & Dreams

by Autumn Markus

  As the evening wore on and players were shifted for each game, Jena felt Nick’s eyes on her more and more often, and she had to stifle a laugh when he threw more than one game, at the risk of Rob thinking he was a moron, to get himself back on a team with Jena. Sharon’s sharp eyes seemed to catch him each time, and her wide smile when she distracted Rob from staring at Nick in bafflement made it even harder for Jena to hold in her laughter. At least one of her parents wouldn’t be worried about ending up with idiot grandchildren.

  At last, Rob yawned. A huge, face-splitting, see-the-soles-of-his-shoes-through-his-mouth yawn. Their guests seemed to take the hint, rising and collecting coats, making promises to visit more often and taking the dishes of leftovers Sharon pressed upon them with varying degrees of eagerness.

  Five minutes later, Rob was still shaking his head as Sharon steered him toward the stairs. “Good night, kids,” Rob called down. “See you at breakfast.”

  When she heard her father’s door close, Jena steeled her nerve and dragged an extra bag next to Nick’s, dropping her pillow on it coolly as Travis looked at her, open-mouthed.

  “What?” she asked, with a tiny smile. “You’re not allowed upstairs, so we’re staying down here.” She lounged back on her elbows on her bag, legs stretched out and feet crossed, still smiling.

  Travis’s mouth closed with a snap. He grabbed his bag and started dragging both it and the one Leisa pulled out of the closet into the dining room. Looking back, he arched an eyebrow. “Of course, Rob’s gonna have kittens in the morning, Jen.”

  “What Dad doesn’t know…he won’t know until morning, and it’s too late to do anything about it then,” Jena said, ignoring the general laugh. “Just keep it down, and he’ll be blissfully ignorant.”

  Travis snorted. “Like you have to remind me. Talk to Mr. Noise over there.” He nodded toward Nicholas with a smirk, following Leisa as she left the room.

  Flopping down on his bag, Nicholas lay on his side facing Jena and propped his head up on his hand with a grin. “So. Pretty sneaky,” he mumbled. He reached out, tracing the deep vee neckline of Jena’s sleep shirt with one finger. Her body reacted immediately, soft peaks showing through the thin material.

  “Pretty hooked. I need to hear you breathing, if nothing else,” she whispered, rising briefly to snap the light off before settling down again. Jena sighed, lacing her fingers with Nick’s and turning toward him. “Good day?” The glow from the fire was just enough to make out the shine of his eyes and a quick flash of teeth as he smiled. “Bet you’ve never been surrounded by so much chaos in your life.”

  Nicholas chuckled softly. “Nope. Not so much love either. Your parents…Jena, you have no idea how lucky you are.”

  “They’re pretty great, I admit.” Jena was still for a moment and then muttered, “Fuck it. Dad’s gonna be pissed anyway. Up, Nicholas.” He stood, watching her quick motions as she yanked her bag to the side and shook his out flat in front of the fire. She laid hers on top and zipped them together. “There. In,” she said.

  Slipping into the newly doubled bag, Jena curled against Nick. “So how does Thanksgiving work at your house?” Jena whispered, her thigh flung across his as she pressed close to keep their conversation private.

  “Um…it’s quiet. Sometimes my mom’s family comes over—my aunt and uncle live pretty close to us. Usually we go out.” Nick wrapped his fingers around her leg, stroking the soft skin behind her knee.

  “Wow. This must have been a shock then.” Jena rested her head on Nicholas’s shoulder, and caught his hand that was traveling up her leg.

  “Ungh…” she moaned softly, kissing his shoulder before she slid her leg away. She rested her chin on his chest. “You’re the devil. I want to talk to you seriously, and you keep touching me.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” Nicholas smiled, wrapping his arms around her and linking them loosely below her shoulders. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

  “Your parents. So, when you called them—”

  Nicholas groaned, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I don’t want to talk about them right now. Right now I want to kiss you.” He rolled her over gently, and Jena thanked her father silently for the soft cotton of his old bags, so much quieter than the newer nylon bags she could hear Travis and Leisa shuffling around in. Nick rested his elbows to either side of Jena’s head, smoothing her hair back from her forehead before leaning down to cover her mouth with his. Jena’s hands crept under his shirt, running smoothly up his sides and across to trace the muscles along the sides of his spine with gentle fingers; he reached back with one hand to grip the fabric and yank the shirt over his head, tossing it next to the bag.

  “Nicholas,” she sighed.

  He put his mouth against her ear again. “I swear to God, I’ll talk about whatever you want later. I promise.” His hand trailed down her side, sketching the lower hem of her sleep shirt. He pushed the fabric up until she could feel his bare stomach against hers. “Just for a little while, I don’t want to have to share you with anyone. Please?”

  Hearing the vulnerability in his voice made Jena’s heart ache. “I’m always yours, Nicholas.” She grabbed the hem of her nightshirt, and it quickly joined his shirt on the floor beside them. Giving into the yearning to touch him that had tormented her all day, she slid her hands down his arms and over his ribs, smiling back at him as he dropped his head to kiss her. Soon words weren’t even possible.

  Nick rested his forehead against her chest, catching his breath, when the last shudders were over. Easing down beside her, he enfolded her in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered.

  She chuckled. “You must, to risk death. What if Dad had come downstairs?”

  He shrugged. “You told me not to stop. I’m good at those kinds of orders.”

  “Yes, you surely are.” Reaching next to Nick’s head, she snagged her nightgown and rose up a little to slip it over her head. “As much as I like feeling your skin, I think my being clothed might soothe my dad a little bit when he comes downstairs.” She grinned. “At least he can tell himself nothing happened.”

  Nicholas grabbed his shirt and tugged it on grudgingly, fishing his pants up from the bottom of the bag and slipping them on. “This should be fun in the morning.” He pulled the fabric, already becoming sticky, away from himself. “Just like being a kid again.”

  “You could always attempt the stairs to clean up,” Jena said, snickering.

  Nick grimaced. “Not likely. I’ve courted danger enough for one night.”

  She settled against him, her hand in his favorite spot and her head on his shoulder. “Nicholas?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Mom said something today…She was talking about the thing with your parents, and she said that you need to talk to them.” Jena felt his sudden tension and rushed on. “She said that if I thought I had torn your family apart, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” She curled some chest hair around her finger, the way she always did when she was nervous. “She was right.”

  “You’re the most import—”

  Jena put her hand over his mouth, raising up on her elbow and looking at him seriously. “No. Just—no.” She felt her chest constrict. “You’ve put me on a pedestal,” she said in a sad voice, “but I don’t like heights. I can’t live up to that.”

  Nick kissed her palm and moved her hand back to its place on his chest. “Okay. I’ll talk to them. I’ll try to see you more realistically.” He pretended to consider. “You do tend to talk a lot. That’s a criticism. Can we go to sleep now?”

  Jena smiled wistfully, concerned that he still hadn’t taken her seriously. She could tell he wanted to drop the subject, though. “Yeah.” She rested her head on Nick’s shoulder again and yawned. “Piss poor excuse for a criticism, though, seeing as you talk more than I do…” The long day finally caught up with them, and she felt Nicholas relax before she drifted off too.

  The low rumble of voices and the smell of freshly brewed coffee teased
Jena up from sleep. Aside from the aching in her hip that was pressed into the floor, she felt wonderful, safe and protected. She ran the tips of her fingers over the arm that was wrapped firmly around her waist, and it tightened, a rumble echoing deep in Nicholas’s chest as he snuggled her head further under his chin. Turning her head slightly, Jena listened to the steady beating of his heart and smiled. She cracked her eyes open to find Rob scowling at her before he walked out the front door and closed it with a sharp click.

  Crap.

  Turning carefully in Nick’s arms, Jena leaned back enough that she could see his face. The total relaxation of his smooth forehead and slightly open mouth made her smile again. She reached up to trace the stubble-softened line of his jaw, wondering if he realized how closely he’d held her every night since his blow up—and especially in the days since he thought she’d left him.

  And that made up her mind. She couldn’t let her dad resent Nicholas, no matter how much she did not want to deal with her father. Jena wriggled out of Nick’s arms and carefully slipped out of the bag.

  Nicholas sighed in his sleep, turning onto his back and flinging one arm above his head. Jena looked at his wild, midnight hair twisting on her pillow and smiled.

  Arms wrapped around her waist, and a chin rested on her shoulder. “He’s purty,” Leisa drawled, chuckling. “Wanna trade?”

  “Hell, no.” Jena snickered.

  “Good. I couldn’t put up with his emo bullshit outside of the bedroom,” Leisa said placidly and then she hit Jena in the ribs with her elbow, glancing at her out of the corner of her eye with a smirk. “Of course, some people don’t need a bedroom…”

  Jena felt her face flame. “Good hell, Leisa. Couldn’t you cover your head with a pillow or something? At least pretend blindness and deafness?”

  “I tried, but my curiosity got the better of me,” Leisa said matter-of-factly. “Dumbass went right to sleep and I was bored. Of course, I couldn’t see anything, and you were pretty quiet, for you guys. I can’t help it if I have perfect hearing and a great imagination for sex. It’s a gift.”

  “I thought being a know-it-all was your gift?”

  “No, that’s a talent.” She squeezed Jena’s arm. “I think you have a bigger problem than my ears, though.” She pointed toward the door. Jena sighed and nodded, turning to get her jacket. Leisa grabbed her arm. “Jena, sweetie, can I make a suggestion?”

  “Sure.”

  “Turn your nightshirt around.” Leisa giggled as Jena looked down and groaned at the front of her nightie, spying the tag beneath her chin.

  “Great. Inside out and backward,” Jena muttered. “Someone just shoot me now.” Leisa headed for the kitchen, and Jena trudged up the stairs to her room, exchanging her nightgown for soft pants and a T-shirt before accepting the cup of coffee Leisa held out with a sympathetic smile.

  The steady chunking of the axe broke the morning stillness as Jena stepped out the door and sat on the stoop, setting her cup carefully to the side. Rob glanced over briefly with a scowl and heaved the axe into a twisted knot of wood again.

  “Dad? The wood didn’t piss you off. I did.” Jena pulled her shirt down over her knees and huddled with her arms around her shins, waiting for him to answer.

  After a couple more whacks, Rob looked at Jena again and sighed. Setting the axe carefully alongside the chopping block, he wiped his brow. “Have you ever been really sorry you got out of your warm bed, Jen?” he asked, kicking the chunk of wood at his feet.

  “Look, Dad…I knew it might upset you that I put the bags together—”

  Rob sighed, still looking at his feet. “I wasn’t talking about this morning, Jena.”

  Fighting the impulse to just take off running down the street, never to be seen again, Jena dropped her head down onto her knees. “What did you see, Dad?” she mumbled.

  “Enough.” Rob’s voice was clipped. “Firelight is not your friend, Jena.”

  “Fuuuuuuck…” Jena moaned out through gritted teeth, rocking back and forth with the heels of her hands pressed against her eyes, considering blinding herself so she wouldn’t ever have to look at her dad again.

  Rob’s sudden chuckle startled Jena. “You look insane. Stop that.”

  “I feel insane. I can’t fucking look at you ever again. Ever.” A sudden burst of giggles shook her, and she buried her head in her arms as she folded them on top of her knees.

  “Nice mouth. That’s twice in less than a minute.” Jena felt her dad sit down next to her, his body heat warming her side as he nudged her.

  She sighed, turning her head slightly to look at him from the corner of her eye. “If I was twelve you’d have washed my mouth out with soap by now.”

  “Yeah, well, if you were twelve we wouldn’t be having this incredibly uncomfortable conversation.” His expression became horrified. “Would we? Jesus God, don’t tell me if we would.” He ran a hand through his brown curls with a grimace.

  “Nope. Still playing with Barbies at twelve.”

  “Now you’re playing with Ken.” He guffawed loudly as Jena repeated her favorite curse and covered her head with her arms. Elbowing her in the ribs, he said, “That was a good one, and you know it.” She found herself giggling again, and Rob joined in. When they settled down, the tension had dropped amazingly. Rob slung his arm around Jena’s shoulder, and she rested her head in the crook of his neck. “I guess the ring lecture went in one ear and out the other, huh?”

  “Don’t blame Nicholas, Dad. I put the bags together. It was my idea to—”

  Rob covered her mouth with his hand. “More than I need to know, daughter.” He dropped his hand, and they sat quietly. Finally he spoke again, wrapping his callused hand around his daughter’s. “So you love this guy, Jen?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do, Dad.”

  He was quiet for a minute. “You know, I’m aware that you live together and sleep together, as much as I hate the thought.” She nodded. “I don’t mean to be an ass, you know, but it’s hard to get used to the idea that it’s not my job to take care of you anymore.” Jena felt a muscle tighten in his jaw. “I don’t know Nicholas. He seems like a nice enough guy—a little stiff, but nice—but it’s still hard to trust someone you don’t know. I want to think that he’s good to you. That he’ll take care of you. And yes, I know you’re not a piece of property and you can take care of yourself, and blah, blah, blah.” He made a talking motion with his hand, and they laughed together. “He loves you?”

  “Yeah, Dad.” Jena smiled, thinking of the look in Nicholas’s eyes whenever they were together. “I know he does.”

  “He’d better.” Rob stood up and took the two steps to the ground. “Look, Jena. I can’t pretend that I like the way you guys disrespected my wishes, and damn it, it just doesn’t seem like you.” He was lost in thought for a minute, and then he looked back at her. “Did your mother have something to do with this? I saw you two whispering on the couch a couple of times last night.”

  Jena felt a slow flush climb up her neck, and Rob shook his head. “Maybe,” she mumbled. “I mean, she didn’t tell me to…you know…or anything, but she said that we—altogether, I mean—we might be a little much for Nicholas to handle, since he comes from a really small family. Just his mom and dad, really. Anyway, Mom said that sharing me for so long might be hard for Nicholas, and that sometimes men just need to know that they have all of your attention, so…” She trailed off.

  Rob was still shaking his head. “That woman. Sometimes I don’t know whether to wring her neck or kiss her.” He picked up the axe and put another knot of wood on the chopping block. “She’s a smart woman, Jena. You can learn a lot from her.” He winked at Jena and nodded toward the house. “Now get in there and bake muffins or something. I need to work out some of this fatherly aggression toward that guy that slept with my daughter in my damned sleeping bag.”

  Thinking that it might be better to separate Nicholas and her dad for a while, at mid-morning Jena suggested a day trip to show Ni
ck her favorite places. Piling into Jena’s Jeep and waving goodbye to her parents, they drove the short distance to the Rogue River, talking and laughing.

  “Is this a normal thing to do here?” Nick wondered aloud as they got out of the car. “Going to a river in November?”

  “Yep,” Travis said, chuckling. “No rain, for a wonder. It’ll be damned cold over by the water, though, until the fire really gets going. Did you wear your warmies, Nicky?” He opened the back of the Jeep, loading his arms with the wood Rob had split that morning.

  Nicholas pulled up his jeans leg to expose the thermal underwear Jena’d advised him to wear. “Why are we doing this again?”

  “It’s Jena’s tradition, dude. Didn’t you say you came from Tradition Central?” Travis laughed and pointed out a case of beer beneath the wood.

  Once the fire was roaring, they took turns maintaining its fierce glow. In between, there was talking, and laughing, and drinking, capped off with the late lunch Sharon had packed for them.

  As the afternoon waned, a tipsy Travis and Leisa wandered away along the riverbank, arms entwined around each other’s waists. Jena settled next to the fire and patted the ground next to her. Nick followed quickly. He leaned back on his hands, staring into the flames, and Jena shifted to rest against his chest.

  “Like the fire?” she asked.

  Nick smiled and nodded, leaning over to kiss her head. “Yep.”

  “So I saw my dad pull you into his den before we left.” She cringed exaggeratedly. “Sorry about that.”

  “It went okay. Better than I expected. He just wanted to be sure my intentions are honorable, and that I wasn’t going to leave you by the side of the road somewhere.” Nicholas’s tone was light, his shoulders relaxed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. They sat quietly, watching the snapping flames.

  “So…you gonna tell me what happened with your call yesterday?” Jena finally ventured.