Schmidt Happens (Schmidt Load #2)

by Susan Renee

  “Bitch.” Jacoby laughs. “Who taught you to play poker?”

  I laugh with him feeling proud that I just kicked his ass. “My Grandmother actually.”

  “No kidding?” he says.

  “Yeah. We used to spend New Year’s Eve with her every year growing up. She taught us to play poker with all the pennies she had saved up throughout the year and then at the end of the night we got to keep the pennies. Those were some of the best memories I have of my time with her before she passed away.”

  “She obviously taught you well, but you’re still a bitch.” He winks.

  “Hey now.” Jack pretends to fight for my honor. “That’s my girl you’re talking about.”

  His girl. I like that sound of that.

  Chapter 6

  Linda

  Today feels like it might have been the longest day at work I’ve had in a while. As much as I love the Christmas holiday, I hate how early we have to set up for all those looming Black Friday deals in the store, and I can’t stand that the piped in music includes I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas at least once every hour. Jack and I were supposed to go out tonight, but I texted earlier and asked if he would mind a relaxing night in, instead. He suggested a Netflix binge, and just a night snuggling with Sampson at his place. So, having not been to Jack’s place yet, I jumped at the chance. I’ll admit, it’s been, well, longer than I can remember since I’ve spent a relaxed evening with a guy just Netflix and….

  “Wait. Did he mean Netflix, or was that code for…?” I’m pretty sure my heart rate just jumped suddenly. “Gah! If he’s wanting some action I should shower but I don’t have time! What am I going to wear?” I flail my arms around in my bedroom trying not to panic. Reminding myself that I’m a strong, confident female, I make sure that I’m wearing matching bra and panties, slip into my sexiest jeans and comfortable sweatshirt, and throw my hair up in a messy bun. I reapply my deodorant and spritz myself quickly with my favorite perfume. I look out the window to see Jack’s car pulling in. I thought maybe asking him to pick me up would mean he wouldn’t want to bring me home tonight…and that might just be okay with me.

  Girls are always thinking.

  I grab my coat and am out the door where Jack’s smiling face welcomes me. In an ironic twist, Jack only lives a few miles from me. Funny how we’ve been talking all this time and didn’t realize we could’ve passed each other on the road so many times before without realizing it. His apartment complex is one of the more up-scale in town, which doesn’t surprise me, as he’s a lawyer.

  “Not bad,” I mutter to myself as we pull in. Within seconds of me opening the car door, Jack is there helping me out and boldly taking my hand.

  “I uh…I went ahead and ordered pizza for us on my way to pick you up, so it should be here soon. I’m really glad you’re here.” His semi-nervousness makes me smile. At least I know he’s being genuine. And maybe he has something exciting in mind for tonight. “You look beautiful.”

  “Nah.” I shake my head, blushing. “Just comfortable. So, do I get to meet Sampson, finally?”

  “Yeah! Absolutely! Come on in. He’ll need walked.”

  Jack leads me hand-in-hand to the door of his building and up the stairs to his apartment. When he unlocks his apartment door the cutest looking white and brown bulldog is wagging his stump of a tail, waiting for us. Well, waiting for Jack.

  “Oh, my gosh!” I squeal. “Look how adorable he is!” I crouch down so that I’m more at Sampson’s level and hold my hand out for him to sniff. Immediately he tries to jump into my lap, knocking me on my ass in the process.

  “Sampson, NO!” Jack scolds but I just laugh as I rub Sampson’s body all over the place.

  “Aww, it’s okay buddy. You are the sweetest little guy, aren’t you?” I say to Sampson as I rub his ears and sit up. He groans in delight at my touch. “You must not ever get any love from this guy here, huh? So neglected, you poor little thing.” I joke. Jake laughs, and watches in amazement at my comfort level with his dog.

  Point for Linda!

  “Do you need to go pee, buddy? Is it time for a walk?” I ask him. Jake grabs his leash from inside the door and attaches it to Sampson’s collar. We both back out of his apartment and head back downstairs with my new furry friend.

  “Sorry he’s all over you. I don’t have visitors very often other than my mom and dad, and Jacoby.”

  “Are you kidding? I love dogs! I’ve always wanted a bulldog or a basset hound, but my dad was always a big retriever kind of guy,” I explain. “Where did you get Sampson?”

  “A divorcing couple actually.” He shrugs.

  “Hahaha is that your fee? I’ll do your paperwork, you buy me a dog?” I tease.

  “Good try, but no.” He laughs with me. “This couple was divorcing a couple years ago and their son was allergic to him anyway. Neither of them wanted to keep the dog because they feared they wouldn’t get custody of their son if they did, so I offered to take him. He’s been the best furry friend a guy could ask for ever since.”

  “Aww, that’s so sweet of you. Really.” I touch Jack’s arm gently.

  “Yeah. It was the least I could do. Dogs are my weakness. I can’t ever say no,” he responds. “Come on buddy, you all done? Let’s get out of the cold.” Jack tugs on Sampson’s leash slightly and we watch as Sampson proudly trots back into the building and right up the stairs to Jack’s apartment. When we reach the top of the stairs there’s a girl standing there waiting for her turn to walk down. I only take a minute to look at her, but a minute is all I need to see that she’s Barbie Doll gorgeous. Her thin, lean body is wrapped tightly in yoga pants and a bright pink sports bra that only just holds her ladies in. I watch as Jack looks at her and then looks away quickly.

  Uh huh. I know you saw them too, buddy.

  “Jack!” she exclaims. “How are you?”

  “Gabby.” He nods quietly. “Fine, thank you. And you?”

  “Fantastic. Just about to get a work-out in.” She looks me over from top to bottom. “And who is this with you this evening? I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  A what?

  “Gabby, this is Linda. She’s not my sister, she’s my…” He doesn’t finish his sentence which makes me feel a little awkward. I’m not sure how he would want me to finish that sentence either but I try my best for him.

  “Girlfriend,” I say, probably a little too loudly. I throw my hand out to shake the woman’s hand, nice and firm too. None of that limp-fish shit that other women do. “I’m his girlfriend. My name is Linda. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  It’s not really. She’s too pretty for me to like her.

  “Awww look at you guys. I’m so glad your first date went so well!” She winks at Jack who is only staring at me. Clearly there’s something to her statement that I’m just not privy to. “Well don’t let me keep you.” She waves her hand. “I’m off to the gym. You two have a fun night.” Giggling she adds, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “Who the heck is that?” I say to Jack when we’re behind closed doors.

  “That’s Gabby. She’s uhh…how do I even explain her?” He shakes his head, distracted.

  “No explanation needed, I don’t think,” I tell him. “I read her like a book the moment she looked at me. Geeze.”

  “Yeah, don’t let her bother you. She’s like that with everyone and you said you were my girlfriend.” He cuts to the chase, stepping toward me. Watching me.

  “What?”

  “My girlfriend. You told her you were my girlfriend,” he repeats.

  “I…I’m sorry.” I shake my head. “You didn’t finish your sentence and it was a little awkward and…quite frankly, I didn’t want to give her any satisfaction so I…”

  “Told her you were my girlfriend,” he finishes, stepping even closer to me.

  “Yeah.” I focus on inhaling and exhaling as he steps even closer still, invading my personal space. I’m not holding that against him. He smells good
.

  “I haven’t had a girlfriend in a long time,” he whispers.

  “Uh huh.” I swallow, watching him.

  “And you’re…beautiful.”

  Sampson whines at our feet.

  “Okay. Should I be scared that you might attack me, or were you just wanting to kiss me, or am I totally misreading you right now?” I ask, almost fearful of his intentions.

  “I would give anything to be able to kiss you right now.” He breathes.

  I smile, endearingly and admittedly, relieved. “Then what are you waiting for, silly?”

  “Permission,” he says.

  “Granted.” I whisper before his lips lock with mine in a soft but hungry kiss. His hands splay across my back, pulling me into his warm body. I reach up on my tip toes to get closer to him, placing my hands gently on both sides of his face. He’s the sweetest kisser I’ve ever known. His kiss doesn’t scream lust or carnal desire like I’m used to. Instead, when our lips move together I feel emotions I’ve never really thought about before. I feel wanted. I feel appreciated. I feel cared for.

  DING DONG!

  I feel interrupted.

  Our lips separate and our eyes open, and for a moment we stare at each other, taking in what we had to have both felt.

  “That’s the pizza guy,” Jack finally says, smirking.

  “Good. I’m starving.” I lick my lips seductively to let him know that it’s not just pizza I’m hungry for. I want that kissy lovey-dovey feeling back.

  Jack buzzes the pizza man in and meets him at the top of the steps. Within minutes we’re situated on the living room floor with Sampson at our feet, a pizza and beer on the coffee table in front of us, and the beginning of Captain America: Civil War – my favorite so far – playing on the TV. I haven’t felt this content in a long time.

  ***

  “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” I ask Jack when the movie is over.

  “Not at all. It’s just down the hall on the right. If you don’t mind, I’ll take Sampson out while you’re in there?”

  “Perfectly fine.” I rub Sampson’s head quickly and stand up.

  “Okay. Be right back,” he tells me. “Come on Sampson.”

  I make my way to the bathroom which is pristinely white with dark – almost black – cupboards. The yellow towels hanging from the towel rack add just the right amount of color splash to the very masculine room. It’s almost unbelievable how clean it is. I’ve seen enough other guys’ bathrooms to know that this is not the norm. It even smells clean. When I inhale, I panic for a moment as the scent of lemons wafts through my nose. I don’t know why God chose me to have the weirdest allergy known to man, or woman, but I’m highly allergic to lemons and lemon-scented things. I look around for any sort of Glade Plug-In or something that I can unplug but don’t see anything. I can feel my throat burn with every breath I take, so I try to slow my breathing. Knowing I could easily walk out of here, but for the fact that I really need to pee, I reach in my jeans pocket for my inhaler.

  “Shit! I didn’t bring it.”

  I was in such a hurry to get out of there after work I didn’t even think about it.

  “Stay calm. No big deal.” I assure myself. The window on the opposite wall is closed, so I step across the room and open the window the entire way in hopes that it will help dilute the lemon smell. I do my business as fast as I can, holding my breath and praying that I don’t break out in hives. As soon as I’m done, I flush and wash my hands and bolt out of the bathroom, closing the door a behind me.

  Why do I have to be allergic to a guy’s clean bathroom?

  While Jack and Sampson are still outside, I take a minute to look around the kitchen. I open a few cupboards, looking for a glass to get some water to settle the burn in my chest, and chuckle to myself when I see a few Star Wars collector’s glasses sitting on one particular shelf. Deciding not to drink from them in case they’re extra special, I grab a plain glass from the shelf and fill it with water from the sink, and gulp it down before filling it up again.

  When the apartment door opens, I hear the cute grunty pants from Sampson as he quickly finds me in the kitchen.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” I hold up my glass when Jack walks in. “I wanted a quick drink of water.”

  “Not at all.” Jack nods. “But used the Yoda glass you should have,” he says in the most impressive Yoda voice.

  I laugh. “Wow! That was pretty good. I’m impressed!”

  “Told you I was a nerd.” Jack chuckles softly.

  “A cute nerd, though.” I bite my lip, watching him as he bends down to pet Sampson. We watch together as Sam tromps out of the room and plops down on his dog bed in the corner of the living room.

  “Well, now what?” Jack asks. “Another movie?”

  “Umm, sure. But do we get a kiss break first because I’m sort of going through withdrawal, and you smell good.” I explain as I scratch an itch on my lower lip.

  “I thought you would never ask.” Jack exhales. He backs me up slowly against the counter and leans in to press his lips to mine. The tingling sensation that goes through my body every time his lips touch mine is one I happily welcome. His movements are slow and calculated at first but the longer our kiss continues, the more exploratory we both become. Soon we’re all hands and tongues and moans and groans as he sets my body on fire.

  Scratch that.

  Something else is setting my body on fire. I feel the itch first on the back of my thigh so I try to scratch it without letting on that anything is wrong. With any luck, we can continue this make out session and the itchy feeling will go away. I’ve been out of the bathroom long enough now, it shouldn’t be a problem. My other thigh begins to tingle too, but it’s harder for me to reach that arm down to scratch it.

  Ugh. Just my luck!

  I try my absolute best to ignore it but I can’t. In an attempt to give myself the opportunity to scratch the growing itch, I lift up my right leg and wrap it as high as I can around Jack’s leg.

  He’s been such a gentleman all night and now here I am going all hussy on him, but I need to scratch my leg before I scream. Thank God, Jack moans in pleasure and answers my need. He wraps his hands under my butt and lifts me onto the counter. I quickly throw my hand down to scratch my leg as he does so, but it doesn’t help.

  This cannot be happening.

  I try to squirm a little bit on the counter hoping it will seem like I’m really into this make-out session, when in reality I’m just trying to add some friction between my ass cheeks that are now on fire and the jeans that I’m wearing. If I squirm anymore though, he’ll think I’m trying to dry hump him and that’s just lame. We’re way too old for dry-humping.

  Jack trails kisses across my neck to the feel-good spot every girl has behind her ear, but instead of focusing on how good it should feel, all I can do is feverishly tell myself to ignore the itch.

  It’ll go away. Don’t scratch.

  It’ll go away. Don’t scratch.

  It’ll go away. Don’t scratch.

  It has to go away.

  Shit.

  I can’t feel my lips.

  My hand flies to my lips where I poke a few times with my finger but I feel nothing!

  Oh no!

  My lips are swollen, and I can’t feel my cheeks, and it’s getting harder to breathe, and I’m not sure I can control the panic much longer.

  “You okay?” Jack says in his softest, most gentleman-like protective tone. I hate that I have to disappoint him, but I don’t have a choice now.

  “Jack,” I say with a heavy breath that sounds like a mix of Scarlett Johansen and Harvey Fierstein. “I’m hawing an awergic weaction.”

  Jack stops kissing my neck for a minute before pulling back to look at me. “What did you say?”

  “The wight, Jack. Turn on the wight. I’m hawing an awergic weaction.” I try to take in a deep breath but I can’t. The backs of my thighs feel like they’re burning and I can’t figure out what’s happen
ing to me. Jack backs up from me, not understanding what I said, and I seize the opportunity to jump down and turn on the kitchen light.

  “Oh, my God! Linda!” Jack exclaims and then quickly tries to compose himself. It’s too late though. Clearly, I’m a swollen hot mess. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”

  “NO! I’m now okay! Wemons! I’m awergic to wemons! Do you haw wemons in here?” I hastily unzip my jeans and throw my hands down the back of my pants, embarrassed beyond belief but needing to relieve myself from the pain, and itch of whatever rash is showing up on my legs.

  “Linda, I can’t understand what you’re saying. Your face…it’s so…swollen. I think you’re having an allergic reaction. Oh, shit.” He throws his hand to his forehead. “Are you allergic to pizza and didn’t want to tell me?”

  “NO!” I shake my head fiercely, trying to rip my legs apart with my fingernails. “Wemons! I’m wery awergic to wemons!”

  “To what?” he asks, shaking his head again.

  “Wemons!”

  “Women?”

  “Wem-ons!”

  He tilts his head, obviously not hearing me. “Weapons?”

  “WEMONS!” I shout, flailing my arms.

  “I can’t understand you,” he says regretfully. Quickly I pull open every single drawer in the kitchen until I find one with a pen inside. I throw off the cap and write on my hand to show him the word ‘Lemons’.

  “WEMONS!!!”

  “You’re allergic to lemons?” he says, reading my palm.

  “YES!! Ba-woom smews wike wemons!” I shout pointing down the hall.

  “The bathroom. Lemons.” Jack thinks for a minute and then throws his hands on his head. “Shit! Yeah! I cleaned with lemon scented Clorox wipes!”

  “The toywet?” I ask almost in tears.

  “Toilet?” he repeats. When I nod at him he responds, “Yeah. Yeah, I cleaned the whole thing with them. And…fuck…I do my dishes with lemon scented Dawn! Are you allergic to that too, because unless you licked the toilet…”

  I’m too panicked to justify his comment. “YES! I’m awergic to aww kinds ow wemons!”

  “I…I just read a while back that lemons are great for cleaning. That’s why I used that stuff…Oh, God. Linda! I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” he pleads.