Book Boyfriends Cafe Summer Lovin' Anthology 2015

by Melinda Curtis

  Sissy squeezes my hand as she walks past me and out the door. I tap the envelope on the desk, my mind racing with scenarios of how our reunion will happen, what I’ll say, how she’ll react when she sees me. I run my hand over my scruffy beard that I haven’t bothered to shave since I left Jamaica. I’ve waited almost two months since I last saw Sloan, but somehow the next twenty-four hours will seem like an eternity.

  Sloan

  Red and orange streak across the sky creating the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen. With that backdrop and the rolling hills of Italy, the view in front of me looks like it could only be created by an artist’s paintbrush. I lean back in my chair, sipping my wine, loving that this picture perfect view has ended each of my days for the past month.

  “Enjoying the view, Mrs. Pennington?”

  Smiling, I look over to see Oliver taking a seat beside me. Oliver is the only person who has ever called me by Cooper’s last name. He is in every way possible, the exact opposite of Cooper physically, but the two share the same loving, compassionate soul. While we never met while Cooper was alive, we were best friends from the start. He taught me so much about my husband that I never knew while he was gratified to hear about the love I shared with his brother. Cooper may have left me, but Oliver took over as my guardian when he did.

  He pours himself a glass of vino and tops off mine. “So how are your clients coming along?”

  I nod. “Fantastic. It’s one thing to try to coach and motivate someone over the Internet, but it’s totally different to do it face to face. They were all shocked to see me at their gyms and I’ve already seen so much improvement just in the month I’ve been here.”

  Oliver stares at the setting sun and drinks his wine. Neither of us say anything as we enjoy the last rays of light. I watch the older Pennington brother, thinking about how not only looks-wise, but career-wise the brothers are different. While Cooper became an engineer and worked for the government, Oliver ran away to Italy to pursue his dream of being a vintner and ended up hitting it big. People flock from all parts of the world to visit his vineyard and buy his wine. It was Cooper, and his death, that motivated me to quit the corporate world and start my own boot camp in St. Louis, but it was Oliver who dared me to think outside the box, discover how I could make a difference in other people’s lives, and thus the healthy coaching side of my business developed. Majority of my clients were back home, but again, Oliver forced me to go bigger and I now have people I coach all over the U.S. and internationally as well.

  “Are you ready to go home tomorrow?” Oliver asks, breaking my train of thought.

  I shrug. This trip has been a nice escape from reality, but the feelings and the person I was trying to evade hasn’t left my memory. “Not really,” I answer.

  “Are you ready to tell me the real reason for your visit?” Oliver asks, looking at me.

  I take a deep breath. “I met a guy.”

  Oliver’s eyebrows narrow. “You met a guy so you ran away. Explain.”

  Swallowing, I begin to tell him everything, starting with the flight to Jamaica. The guilt of loving someone other than Cooper, accepting that it was okay to move on, then finding out the man I was ready to open my heart to again was the man whose heart I had already broken.

  I finish the story and Oliver reaches over, patting my hand. “Sloan, you know there’s a whole wide world outside of the Midwest. You are a captivating, kind hearted person and will be successful no matter where you are. You have touched so many lives positively and the possibilities of wonderful things you can do are endless. I think it might be a good idea for you to consider planting yourself somewhere other than where you currently call ‘home.’”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the tears at bay. I’m thinking he’s on to something. I need to get away from my past, get away from the tragedies that surround me back home, but the thought of leaving my family breaks my heart.

  Oliver stands and walks toward his house, but before he goes inside, he calls back to me, “I’ll keep the guest room open for the next few weeks if you want to think it over.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble. I turn back to the pristine sunset, but it’s gone. As quickly as I looked away, it disappeared. Could a simple move across the ocean do the same for me? Erase the agony of my past and promise me happier days ahead?

  Chapter 22

  Smitty

  I pace back and forth across the gray tile at Lambert International Airport. The screen above me says that Sloan’s flight should be arriving any minute. The blinking “on time” beside her flight number makes my stomach flip like I’m riding a roller coaster. Mix that with the smell of the roses I’m holding and I could lose my lunch at any time. Granted, I haven’t eaten since Sissy appeared in my office yesterday and I’m going on about four cups of coffee, not to mention I didn’t sleep a wink and needless to say, I’m a wreck.

  I glance up at the screen again and now the “on time” has been replaced with “arrived.” The scent of the roses hits my nose again and I shake my head, trying to get the smell away from me when I realize, I don’t even know if Sloan likes roses. What if she has allergies? What if Cooper always gave her roses? I should throw them away. I push the trash can lid open and when I look up, I see Sloan making her way toward the baggage claim.

  Despite a multi-hour flight, she looks stunning. She’s wearing a pair of cutoff jeans, complete with rips and strings, an oversized black and white striped long sleeve blouse that cuts into a deep V, but isn’t too revealing, and her long, honey hair falls over her shoulders. Slowly, I make my way toward her, cautious not to take her by surprise. She’s looking around, I’m sure for Sissy, and she doesn’t hide the shock on her face when she sees me.

  “Smi…Smitty, what are you doing here?”

  Glad I didn’t throw away the roses, since they give me a buffer, I thrust them at her and shrug. “I heard you needed a ride.”

  She juggles her purse and her phone, dropping the latter in her bag and taking the flowers. “Thanks, but Sissy is supposed to pick me up.”

  I scratch my forehead, closing one eye as I do, my heart thumping loudly inside my chest. “Um… I’m her replacement.”

  Sloan’s nose scrunches and I relax. The familiarity of her mannerisms return and I remind myself to stay calm, don’t scare her off. I point to the baggage conveyor. “Which bag is yours?”

  She nods at a bag on the carousel. “That black one with the pink ribbon.”

  I pick it up and walk back to her. Placing my hand in the small of her back, I guide us out to my truck. Maybe it’s all in my mind, but Sloan seems to fall in step with me, her body close, but I long for it to be closer. Once in the truck, she gives me directions to get to her place and we’re on our way. The sounds of country music fill my truck.

  I glance over at her, she’s staring out the window and her body is tense. At the stoplight, I reach over and flip her hand so her palm is upright. I keep my eyes focused on her hand while my fingers write R-E-L-A-X in her palm. When I finish I look at her and she’s biting her bottom lip. The car behind me honks as the light turns green. I lace my fingers through hers and give a quick squeeze, not letting go until we pull up in front of her townhouse in Soulard.

  I put my truck in park and Sloan gets out on the passenger side. When I walk around to the sidewalk, I lift out two suitcases from my truck bed—the one she took to Italy and the pink leopard one from Jamaica. Her eyes get big when she sees the second bag.

  “I didn’t know you— Thanks for bringing it back,” she mumbles.

  Walking past her, I smile and brush my lips across her cheek, sending my heart racing. “No problem,” I say as casually as I can. Play it cool, Smitty, don’t blow this. Remember what Sissy said, let her take the lead.

  Sloan lets us in the house, mumbling and rambling nervously as she apologizes for the mugginess in her house from the air conditioner being turned off. Her house isn’t what I expected, not that I’d really pictured anything specific. I
guess I just figured that most women watch HGTV and try to replicate what they see in their own homes. I should’ve known better than to think Sloan would be like that. Still, her completely bare walls are sad, but then I remember how she told me her life with Cooper had to be erased, which explains the pictureless decor.

  Still babbling about nothing in particular, she walks into the living room and runs smack into me as I inspect the one framed photo on her end table which ends up being a picture of her family. I grab her by the waist as she lets out an “oof” and I stare into her eyes. She finally stops talking and bites her lip instead. I move one hand to her cheek, running my fingers through her hair.

  “I’ve missed you,” I comment, not sure what else to say, just overcome with that emotion.

  She gulps and tries to step back, but I hold on to her firmly. “Can I…um, get you something to drink?”

  Let her take the lead. I nod and let her go. She quickly spins on her heel and runs into the kitchen. I can hear her opening drawers and cabinets as she begins to chatter again. I follow her into the other room, leaning against the doorframe and smiling. She decides on two glasses and when she opens the fridge, I can see it’s completely bare.

  “Umm…” she mumbles.

  I walk behind her, sliding my arms around her and setting my chin on her shoulder. “How about you sit down and I can find something in here, okay?”

  Sloan moves in my arms to face me. She pulls me into a hug and my heart soars at this, she’s breaking down the wall. I feel her bury her face in my chest and I stroke her hair. Her strawberry shampoo tantalizing me, her body fitting perfectly into mine… the time apart made me forget these little things, but just a few moments together and they all come flooding back, making me want her even more, but I know I can’t press.

  Slowly, Sloan lifts her head to look at me, her arms slide around my neck. I lick my lips, tempted, but know I can’t force this. Sloan’s hand moves down my neck, her fingers walking their way up to my jaw, and rubbing my stumble. The smallest movement on her end has every nerve in my body on edge, wanting more than ever to have her again. Her hand continues to move until it’s fully behind my head, pulling me toward her.

  “Sloan…” I whisper, not sure what I want in this moment. I know what I want, but I don’t know if it’s the best idea.

  She responds by pushing her lips against mine. My heart is racing and I try to focus on the tick of the clock on the wall over the sink, because the rest of my body is ready to ravage her body. Her tongue flicks across the seal of my mouth and sends me over the edge. With one step, I push her against the counter, both my hands in her hair, gripping it tightly, and grinding my hips against hers. Sloan tilts her head and I open my mouth so that we can both deepen the kiss.

  It is nothing short of amazing to feel her body again, her kiss, her touch, but I begin to pull away, hating myself for it. As much as this feels good, feels right, this wasn’t what I was missing, this isn’t what I want. I want Sloan’s companionship, I want her friendship, I want our intimacy. Both of our chests are heaving as the kiss ends. I move my hands off her, knowing I won’t be able to truly stop if I don’t. I rest them on the counter on either side of her body. My head just inches away from her chest and her hand moves to my neck, lightly grazing it with her fingers.

  “I missed you, too,” she says in a breathy whisper and my heart pounds even faster.

  I move my lips to her collarbone and kiss it lightly. “Good. Now go rest and I’ll find us something to drink.”

  Sloan’s hands move under my chin and she gives me a soft kiss before leaving the kitchen. I open her pantry looking for lemonade mix or Crystal Light, my hands shaking as I do. This is going much better than I expected, maybe Italy was a good thing. Let her clear her mind, decide she’s ready to move on, try dating again. A smile creeps over my face and I begin to whistle, still unsuccessful at finding anything to drink, but honestly, not caring at the moment. Sloan might be mine again by the end of the day.

  I fill both the cups with water and walk back to the living room. My smile gets bigger as I see my sleeping beauty passed out on the couch. Taking both glasses back to the kitchen, I return and scoop her into my arms. I carry her to what I’m assuming is her bedroom, the clothes and shoes scattered everywhere give it away. Softly, I place her on the bed, taking off her shoes then I lie beside her. Immediately, Sloan snuggles up against me and I pull her close. This is how it was always meant to be, her and me together.

  Sloan

  I’m having the best dream and don’t want to wake up. In my mind, the past is nothing but a memory and I’m safely tucked against Smitty’s body. The images are too good to be true and I don’t want to wake up, but I have to. My body is stiff from the cramped space on my flight home and I need to stretch. Slowly, I open my eyes and see it’s dark outside, the clock tells me it’s already eight. I move my arms to stretch and I feel a body beneath my hand. Tilting my head up, I realize part of my dream is true.

  Encircled by Smitty’s arm, I roll to my side, my upper body on top of his torso. My body rises and falls with each of his breaths as I watch him sleep. So peaceful, not a worry on his mind right now. I sigh, I wish it could stay like this, but it can’t. It will only wind up for heartbreak again, for both of us. Turning my head, I rest it back on his chest and close my eyes.

  Dozing in and out of sleep, memories of Caroline’s accident haunt me. I never meant to hurt her. I was only trying to help. Still, that day was my fault. Smitty lost her because of me. I picture Caroline taking her last breath and I jolt upright, breathing hard and fast. I startle Smitty with my sudden action and he sits up, still half-asleep, reaching for me and pulling me to his chest.

  “Ssh, Lo, it’s okay. I got you, I’m right here,” he says, stroking my hair as I cry softly against his chest.

  I lean back and wipe my eyes. “That’s the problem. You’re here.” I know it’s cold, but it’s the truth.

  He pulls his hands back and looks into my eyes. “How so?”

  I crawl out of bed, pacing beside it, trying not to trip over the disarray of clothing. “Jacob, this will never work. I like you, I enjoyed every moment I had with you, but it’s back to reality now and it’s not that easy.”

  He swings his feet to the floor and sits up. Reaching out, he grabs my hands and pulls me in front of him, making me stop my movement. “Why are you calling me Jacob?”

  I scrunch my nose, confused. “Uh? What are you talking about? It’s your name.”

  His thumbs rub the backs of my hands. “Yes, it’s my name, but I introduced myself to you as Smitty. It wasn’t until you ran away that you started calling me Jacob. How’d you know? Did you find something out about me that you didn’t like?”

  Internally, I scoff at his statement. Yes, I found out something about him that I didn’t like, but it’s because of me, not him. “I…uh, read it on your luggage tag. What would I not like?” I’m trying to turn the tables, make him give me a reason to end this.

  He purses his lips, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he flips my hand over and spells with his finger T-R-Y. His lifts his gaze to me in the dark room, only lit by the moonlight. “Sloan, please give us a try. We’re both scared to let go of our past, but we can be scared together.”

  My stomach quenches and I hate that he’s saying all the right words. I should just tell him the truth, but I don’t want him to hate me. Even if we never see each other again, I can’t bear the thought of him hating me, although he should.

  I move my hands to either side of his face and look into his eyes. I can barely make him out through my tears, but as my fingers move over the stubble on his cheeks, my heart breaks even harder. I speak softly and slowly. “Smitty, you have no idea how scared I am. The past has done too much to me to be able to have anything to do with you. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, but I know you are destined to find someone who can love you the way Caroline did and give you everything you need.”

  “No, n
o, no.” His hands are on top of mine and he grips my fingers tightly. “Sloan, don’t say that. You’re the one that can do that.” Smitty stands, his hands dropping to my hips and pulling me tightly against his body. “We may have only spent a few days together, but Sloan, I’ve fallen for you and I’ve fallen hard. I need you so whatever happened in the past, we can work through it together.”

  Why is he making this so hard? Oh, because I can’t just tell him the truth. I wiggle my hips and he doesn’t make it easy, but I manage to pull away from him and walk to the hallway. “I wish we could, but…” I shake my head. “We can’t.”

  Smitty walks toward me until we’re both in the doorway. Trapped between him and the doorframe, I avert my eyes, waiting for him to leave. It seems like an eternity before he finally speaks, his fingers on my chin. “Sloan, I lo—”

  Quickly, I interrupt him. “Goodbye, Smitty.”

  He sighs. “Is this really it?”

  I jerk my head away from him, looking back at my bed and trying to fight the tears. “It has to be.”

  Without another word, he turns and walks out of my townhouse and out of my life forever. Sliding down the doorframe, I crumple into a heap, hiding my face in my legs as I sob. My mother was right, I was lucky enough to find the love of a lifetime, not once, but twice and I just watched as I let the second one go without so much as a fight.

  Chapter 23

  Smitty

  It’s a little after ten, not too late. Jules should still be up, she’s a night owl. I bang on her front door, a bottle of vodka and a sack of lemons in my hand. Lemon drop shots—it’s what Jules and I do when we end a relationship. End a relationship, Sloan is a gone… forever. Definitely time for lemon drops.

  I look through the window, the lights are out, but both her and Bentley’s cars are in the driveway. I pound harder. “Come on, Jules! Answer the door.”