Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015

by Melinda Curtis

  “No, it’s not,” I say. “A grandmother should be able to hold her grandbaby. It’s the benefit of having raised your own children.” I smile warmly at her. Zane approaches with several pillowcases. I take them all, and find the oldest in the bunch.

  “Can I tear this one?” I hold up the blue one with the frayed corners. “I will replace it the next time I visit.” I look to Zane for permission as he turns to his mother. I follow his eyes and watch as she nods yes.

  Handing the baby off to his dad, I grip the frayed corner and tear. I do the same at the other end. I am left with a strip of fabric that is about five-feet long and almost two-feet wide. I stand up and wrap the swath of fabric around Elaine’s neck. When I get the length just about right, I tie the ends to make a sling. I ask her to sit back and relax. I don’t want the weight of the baby to pull on her neck. Once she is situated, I take Aaron back into my arms and slide him into the sling. His weight forces the fabric to cup on the sides, creating a cradle of sorts. He squirms a bit, but settles comfortably in what I would call a baby hammock. I grab the throw pillow from the corner of the couch and wedge it under her arm to help support Aaron’s weight. Pleased with my work, I step back and watch.

  Elaine’s eyes pool with tears as she looks down at the baby in her arms. Her hands are free to investigate his fingers and toes. I watch as she holds him for what I assume is the first time. Knowing that it’s probably close to feeding time, I nudge Zane toward the baby bag hoping that he’ll figure it out.

  He’s a sharp one, that man. He pulls the premade bottle out of the bag and hands it to his mother. I wish I had a camera to capture this moment.

  I walk over to the larger sofa and sit. Sometimes the biggest problems have the simplest solutions. He sits by his mother and guides her shaking hand to the baby’s mouth. As soon as he latches onto the nipple, the bottle becomes stable. Pure joy exudes from every pore of her body. All of her attention is focused on the little man she holds. The big man rises and comes to sit next to me.

  “You’re amazing. Look at her. She’s feeding my son. I don’t think she ever thought it was possible. You show up, tie a few pieces of fabric together and it all becomes real.” His hand rests on my bare knee. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. My mom made me something similar when I was going through a baby-wearing phase in my youth. She got tired of me handing her my doll after I grew weary of carrying it around. It’s a simple concept.” I glance over at her feeding the baby and smile. “They both seem very happy. The baby is getting what he wants, and your mom is getting what she needs––to feel like a grandma.”

  He moves his hand up to my shoulder, pulling me into the side of his body. His lips press into the top of my head. His mother gazes up at us and smiles. I’m not sure if her smile is from holding her grandchild, or seeing her son with me. Either way, my heart is warmed knowing I was able to help is some small way.

  We spend the next hour watching Elaine fuss over the little one in her lap. Looking at his watch, Zane tells her that he needs to get back to open the bar. Reluctantly she releases the baby. I pack up his bag and wait. Elaine reaches out her hand to me. I take it and press her fingers gently between mine. She tugs me into an embrace and whispers in my ear, “Thank you.” Her voice sounds stronger. It’s as if holding her grandbaby was therapeutic.

  “We’ll see you on Friday, Mom. I love you.” He leans in and gives his mom a kiss on the cheek. He stays for a minute longer as if he’s listening to something. “I will, Mom. Have a great day.”

  We walk out the way we came. The day seems a bit brighter.

  “We never ate the donuts, I still owe you a meal. Come over to the bar and I will cook you brunch.”

  “That’s okay, I have food at home.” I tell him as I watch him strap his child safely into the seat. I don’t think I have ever seen a man pay such close attention to every detail as Zane does when it comes to his son.

  “Your mom is lovely.” I climb into my seat and buckle up as I’m talking. He is already in the driver’s seat ready to go. “She really enjoyed feeding the baby.”

  “I don’t think I’ve seen her that happy in a long time. You did something wonderful today. Did you see the light in her eyes when Aaron was in her lap and she was able to feed him?”

  “I’m glad I could help,” I say sheepishly. I’m not used to this much praise in one day. In one month really.

  “You changed her life forever. She told me before we left it was her best day in a long time, and to make sure I keep you. She expects to see you Friday.” He reaches over and holds my hand. “Will you come with me on Friday?”

  “Of course I’ll come, who is going to tie the pillowcases?” I tease. “However, I want my donut next time.” Our fingers intertwine like braided ribbon. The heat from his hand runs up my arm to warm my heart.

  “That’s an impossibility, Fridays are breakfast sandwiches and coffee.”

  “Oh…I’m not sure then. If I have to settle for breakfast sandwiches, then I’m going to need something else to sweeten the pot.”

  “Now you’re getting greedy. I’ll see what I can come up with to sweeten the deal.”

  Before I realize it, we are back to our side of town. He pulls up in front of my room and parks. Racing to my side of the car, he swings open the door and helps me out. I take his hand as he pulls me out of my seat and into his arms. I crumble against his warm chest. He lifts me up onto my tiptoes and kisses me senseless.

  “I expect to see you at the bar in an hour or less. Bring your computer. You can work from there. I’ll clean out a quiet corner for you.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll work here.”

  He sets me down and looks at me sternly.

  “Alexa, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to be at the bar within an hour.” He leans over and gives me sweet little peck on the lips. “I want to feed you so you don’t eat some microwave shit from a can.”

  He turns away from me, hops in the car, and drives away. I stare after him and wonder if people buy into this bossy side of him. It doesn’t matter that he is bossy. It doesn’t matter that we have only kissed and not taken things further. In fact, it makes it all the sweeter as he has helped me feel good about myself. I feel validated, as if my ideas are gold. I felt accepted when his mom held me close and showed me how much she cared that I had come. I felt cherished when he told me I was no one’s background. This man is much more than I originally thought, and I feel so thankful that he picked me up that day.

  Against my better judgment, I pack up my computer and head on over to Last Resort. Actually, Last Resort is the first place I want to be.

  Chapter 10

  True to his word, Zane cleared off the table in the corner. He poured me a Diet Coke and told me he asked Bud to make me bacon, eggs and toast. It’s not Bud’s usual fare, so I’m wondering how good it can be. Can he even cook an egg? He looks more like a burger and fry guy.

  Fifteen minutes later, he delivers my meal and joins me. I guess Bud is a master at everything. The eggs are cooked perfectly, the bacon crisp, and the toast lightly browned.

  “Tell me what you’re working on,” he says as he dips his toast into the creamy golden yolk.

  “It’s boring really, but the long and short of it is that this tax software is supposed to take you to different windows when you finish entries and it’s failing to do that. It’s also using wrong tax percentages. It’s not a big fix, in fact, I thought it would take me weeks, but I think I will have it done in a few days.” I pick up a piece of bacon and savor the salty crunch.

  “Todd called me since he didn’t have your number. He left a message at the motel. He wanted me to tell you that your car would be finished today. He is going to drop it off at the motel and bring you the keys.”

  “Wow, that was quick. I thought he wouldn’t have it fixed until Friday.”

  “I guess it was a slow week at the shop.” He glances up at me and I see something in his eyes. Is it sadness or concer
n?

  “Do you mind if I stick around for a while longer? I’d like to keep my job for a bit and see if Sugar Glen is actually really sweet. This gruff man told me when I arrived in town to not be fooled by the name. I’ve come to like it here, and want to feel it out a bit before I make a hasty decision to leave.”

  His smile starts small and broadens with every word. He bolts off his seat and grabs some type of paper from behind the counter. I look down and see a W-4 Form.

  “You will have to fill one of these out. Since you are a permanent employee, I can invest a little more money in you. I require a year’s notice when you quit.” He can’t keep a straight face.

  “I’ll take what you’re paying me now, and if I decide to leave, I will give you a two-week notice.”

  “Hmm…I’ll pay you more, and we will negotiate later if you ever want to leave.”

  “All right, now eat and leave me alone, I have to finish this if I want to get paid.” I fill out a W-4 Form while I finish my meal. I pass it over to my sexy-as-sin boss and focus on the task at hand.

  “Your birthday is in two weeks. Let’s plan something special. How about we go on a date?”

  “A date? That’s the second date you have asked me on today. Do you realize that if you continue to be so sweet, the gruff disposition you try to pass off as your norm isn’t going to be believable?” I tilt my head and smirk in his direction. “Why is it that you act so surly, when you’re just a big teddy bear?”

  “I am surly. Don’t think because I’ve been what you would consider sweet, a sign of softness. I’m far from being a pushover, and I like to control everything around me.” Is that a warning, or he is just trying to re-establish his authority?

  “Go away. You wanted me here. I’m doing what you wanted, now leave me be so I can work.” He picks up our plates and begins to walk toward the kitchen. He gets a few steps away and turns on his heel, comes back, and gives me a kiss.

  “I’m just trying to sweeten the pot. You seem to have swindled more kisses out of me.”

  “Are you saying that you don’t want to kiss me? Is this your way of getting me to go to your mother’s Friday to tie the pillowcases?”

  “I have to use anything I can, to get my way. Is it working?”

  “Kiss me again, I need a sweeter pot. Then go away and leave me alone.”

  He puts the plates down and pulls me into a kiss. His soft, sweet, tongue dances with mine. He pulls away, leaving me breathless, and wanting more––so much more.

  I keep busy on my coding, and finish what I had planned just in time for my shift to start. It’s a slow Wednesday night at the bar. I spend the extra time staring at Zane and trying to figure him out. I saunter over to the bar and sidle up to him. How has he managed to stay single? It’s not as if the women aren’t falling all over him wherever we go. More importantly, how did I ever catch his eye?

  “What’s your story? Why is a good-looking guy like you single?”

  “I’m not. I have a smokin’ hot girlfriend that I found on the side of the road. She lives in this dumpy motel across the street from me and has a penchant for crappy canned foods.”

  I reach up and slug him in the arm. “Seriously, what is your story? I know why you came to Sugar Glen, but why are you single? What are you, like thirty?”

  “Yep, I’m thirty. I had a girlfriend for a short time in California, but it didn’t work out. She wasn’t the one. It was good she was gone before I had to come here.” He looks around the bar. “She would have never been able to survive in this little Podunk town. She was high maintenance and low tolerance.” He laughs to himself. “I can’t imagine what she would have said if I had a child. I don’t think she liked kids. She acted too much like one to want one.”

  “That’s too bad. What attracted you to her?” I’m curious what would make this man, date a girl that sounds like a nightmare.

  He gives me that, are you really going to ask me that look.

  “What do you think I was attracted to? I liked her for her brain of course.” He shakes his head and walks away.

  I pick up the wet dishrag and throw it at him. He catches it mid-air and in less than five steps he is next to me. I am lifted off my feet and held up in the air.

  “Did you just throw a dirty wet rag at me? You are in so much trouble.” He shifts my weight effortlessly so he is holding me with one arm around my thighs. My stomach is pressed against his face. I feel the first smack against my butt. It’s playful, but I play along by squirming. I act as if I am fighting for my life.

  “Bud!” I scream. “Bud, come and help me.” Zane swats my bottom again. This time he lets his hand linger momentarily.

  Bud runs out of the kitchen with his butcher knife in his hand. “What the hell is going on here?” he yells. He looks around at the empty room. “What the hell? I thought you were being mugged out here. Why don’t you two just do it and get it over with.” He shakes his head at us and walks back into his kitchen, grumbling the entire way.

  “See, you’re getting no help from Bud. I should take you upstairs and throw you over my knee.”

  I am so into that idea. He lets me slide down his body. His hands glide from my bottom to my shoulders as my breasts slide down his chest. The friction makes my nipples harden. The sweet sensation of arousal is an aphrodisiac.

  I replay the scene in my head and begin to laugh. Watching Bud run out of the kitchen flailing a knife is funny. More importantly is his comment about going upstairs and doing it. Now, that statement has merit.

  “I don’t think Bud was suggesting a spanking,” I tell him.

  His lips crush mine. I pull my hands through his hair and hold him against me. I can feel his arousal press against my stomach. His hands reach down to my hips, He grasps both sides and pulls me into him.

  Like a duet, we moan in unison. “Let’s close the bar and go upstairs. We only have an hour left anyway. I’m sure Claire would love to leave early.”

  “Claire? Is she the redhead?” I think back to the one time I met her. I couldn’t come up with a name for her.

  “What did you name her?” He smirks at me as if he’s expecting me to blurt out Annie or some crazy thing.

  “I couldn’t figure her out.”

  “Go and lock the door, I’ll tell Bud we’re closing for the night.” He swats my butt as I turn around and head for the door.

  With the bar closed up, he guides me up the stairs and into his home.

  “Hey, Claire, you’re out of here. I closed the bar early.” He hands her a wad of twenties and walks her to the back door. He watches her until she is safely in her car.

  As soon as he shuts the door, he closes in on me. I’ve settled myself on the sofa. He wastes no time pinning my body under his. Hot lips run up my neck to nibble of my earlobe. I wonder if his heart is beating at the same rate as my own. There is no time to think while his lips rain kisses from my neck to my mouth. He pulls away and I feel the loss of his touch. I think I even whimpered out loud.

  “This couch is not the place for this kind of activity. I have a bed.” He winks at me as he pulls me into a sitting position. My feet slide to the ground and hit the floor with a thud. A groan escapes my lips as the pain radiates up my legs.

  “Would you like a glass of wine, it might help you relax?” His eyes look into mine, they soften as he looks at me.

  As much as I was about ready to strip the man down and climb him like a tree, a glass of wine actually sounds heavenly. I am tired. My feet are killing me, first from the run yesterday – note to self: running requires decent runners – and now from my shift. Zane keeps surprising me with his genteel kindness. Am I just not used to being treated like a lady anymore?

  “Yes, that sounds great.”

  He brings two glasses of red wine with him and sits next to me.

  “You look tired. Are you okay?” He places his hand on my thigh and rubs gently. My body tingles all over from his touch.

  “My feet hurt, but I’m all right
. It’s nice to sit and relax.”

  He shifts his body and pulls my feet into his lap. He tosses off my shoes and rubs the tension from balls of my feet. After yesterday’s run and standing on my feet during the shifts I’ve worked, my feet are killing me. I’m going to have to invest in a good pair of shoes. Focusing my attention on his ministrations, I fall back into the soft leather of the sofa and close my eyes.

  ~ * ~

  “Hey, sweets…I ran you a bubble bath. Why don’t you get undressed and climb in,” he whispers in my ear. I didn’t even realize I had fallen asleep. The last thing I remember was having my feet rubbed.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep on you. God, how awful.” How could I do that? We finally had some time alone and I spent it sleeping. We were so close to doing the deed and I blew it.

  “You were tired. Besides I liked watching you sleep.” He helps me up and walks me to the bathroom where a bubble bath beckons me. The smell of baby soap perfumes the air. On the ledge of the tub is a glass of wine.

  “You are so sweet. I don’t care what everyone else says.” I walk in and turn around. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Is he joining me? Is he watching me?

  “Yeah, well don’t tell anyone. You know where the towels are located. I put a T-shirt on the counter for you. You can use my toothbrush if you like.” He turns to leave.

  “You’re leaving me?”

  “If I stayed, beautiful, you wouldn’t be relaxing and I fear you would be twice as sore tomorrow.” He brushes his lips against mine, and retreats.

  What does that mean? I know what it implies but does that mean he wants me to stay the night? He did offer up his toothbrush and a T-shirt. Are we going to have sex? Do I want to have sex with him? Uh-duh…of course you do, my inner voice answers.

  I’m not ready to have sex; I didn’t shave my legs today. I undress and search his bathroom drawer for his razor. Once I find it, I slowly sink into the steaming tub and relax. The bubbles are soothing and the wine is making my tense muscles feel like jelly. I rapidly run the razor over my stubbly legs just in case. I toss back the remainder of my wine and let the water drain.