Mr. So Wrong

by R. C. Stephens

  “Well, my dad owns a plant that manufactures tractors. I know shit about cars, but talk to me about a fried shaft, calibrating, improper maintenance, and lack of lubrication … I’m your guy.”

  She cocks a brow, and I realize I said lubrication.

  “Get your head out of the gutter,” I scoff playfully.

  She laughs.

  “Okay, don’t. Trust me, I make sure a woman is well ready before I enter her.” I raise my brows.

  “You have a dirty mouth.” She laughs and the apples of her cheeks turn a healthy red.

  “I do,” I admit, enjoying this playful side to her.

  “I would say to put your money where your mouth is, but I am not going down that road with you. I’ve got a full plate.” She smiles and pours some milk in her coffee.

  “That’s too bad.” I cross my arms over my chest and smile widely. Sam shakes her head. She thinks I’m kidding around with her, even though I’d be happy to show her exactly how wet I can make her.

  “Well, thanks, Al. I mean, you need to tell us what we owe you for the parts and your work,” she stammers a little.

  “I owe you, not the other way around,” I answer.

  “Those parts are expensive.”

  My lips form a thin line kind of like hers do when I talk about repayment. “Sam, not happening. I’m grateful to be of use around here. Let’s leave it at that.”

  “Okay.” She smiles.

  The phone on the kitchen wall rings, and Sam lifts her pointer finger telling me to hold on a second.

  “Hey, Mack,” she says into the phone. I know now that’s her older sister. “Yeah, that’s great … no he went hunting. Said he’d be back for Christmas … I know, right. ’Kay, looking forward to seeing you all … Yup, say hi to them for me and give them hugs.” She hangs up the phone and comes back to the table where she sits across from me.

  “That was Mack, my older sister. She’s coming to town for Christmas with my nephew and her girlfriend, Autumn.” She pauses. “I’m guessing you need to be with your family. And your car isn’t ready …” She bites her lip. “We have an airport in Grand Junction. You can always fly out to them and then come back and get your car … or wait.” She shrugs her shoulders, and I know we should have had this conversation already, but she didn’t bring it up and I was happy staying put. “You said your sister has a cabin not too far from here. Were you headed there for the holidays?” It’s the first time she’s inquiring about my plans. She’s talking fast too, not waiting for me to get an answer in. Is this her way of getting rid of me? Maybe I over did it with the sex talk.

  I run my hand over my hair. It feels like my short buzz is growing out. I’m searching for words right now that basically say I don’t want to leave.

  “Uh, I hadn’t thought about Christmas really,” I lie, but I can’t come out and say I want to stay right here. “Originally, the plan was to hang with my sister Izzy at the family cabin. She texted me this morning to say she’s expecting more company up there for the holidays. Her boyfriend and another couple …” I pause and let the rest of my sentence sit on my tongue, contemplating whether I invite myself to stay here or leave. The Belmonts clearly have their issues, but they aren’t as fucked-up as the Walshes. I bet they know how to do Christmas right.

  “Truth is, I thought I’d hang here at least until my car is ready. I understand if I’ve overstayed my welcome. You’ve been more than kind to me. I can find myself a hotel in Grand Junction,” I continue to mutter while staring at her. She looks uneasy and my stomach feels like it’s bottomed out. What the hell am I doing? I don’t even recognize myself right now.

  “No, um … I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I don’t mean to be kicking you out. I just figured it would be a full house around here, and I didn’t think you were up for that … I mean, I don’t know what your family does for Christmas … I figured they’d want you around.” Her teeth dig into her lower lip as she holds on to her coffee mug. It isn’t a full-out invitation that’s for sure. I’m disappointed.

  “I haven’t spoken to my family in over ten years. I stay in touch with my sister because she’s young and has nothing to do with the reasons I don’t talk to them. Normally, I spend Christmas with my friend Colton and his father back in Chicago …” I explain, standing up from the kitchen table. I take my dirty plate and Sam’s too.

  “You don’t have to.” She begins to stand.

  “Please, sit. Let me do the dishes. I want to.” I smirk because what is going on with me? What are these words coming out of my mouth?

  Her lips turn up slowly and a warmth radiates from her eyes. She exhales softly. “Thank you.” She leans back in her chair, looking a little more relaxed. Her small reaction to me helping out tells me that she probably has to do everything herself most of the time.

  “Colton … he’s your best friend, right?” she asks.

  “Yeah, he’s moving to Washington State with his girlfriend. His life is a little hectic right now,” I answer, avoiding the small print of Colton giving up his job as governor.

  She nods her head.

  “And what do you do for work?” she inquires.

  “I’m actually out of work right now.” I nod and swallow, knowing I’m not being very forthcoming with information about myself. Maybe it’s because I want a woman—no, I want Sam to get to know me as a person and not as Chief of Staff or a Walsh.

  I head over to the coffee pot, wishing there was something a little stronger to add to my coffee even though it’s early in the morning. I spot one of Farmer Joe’s bottles of Jim Beam.

  “You think your father would mind if I took a little of his Jim Beam?” My lip quirks on one side. I’m hopeful, but by the look on her face, I know it isn’t happening.

  “It’s rare he leaves a bottle just lying around, and he probably has a mark on it measuring how much he has left. I don’t suggest it.” She’s still sitting on a chair at the kitchen table and pulls her knees up to her chest and just looks at me for a moment then asks, “Why do you want to drink Jim Beam this early anyway?” Her gaze practically melts through me, and there’s a challenge in her tone. The words she doesn’t speak are “You saw me get loaded last night. You know I get loaded sometimes because I have my reasons for doing so, but what are your reasons?” I may also just be reading into her question.

  I nod, disappointed, and walk over to the kitchen table and fall back into a chair. “I guess thinking of my ex job and old life makes me want to drink. I have to find something to do with myself.” Admitting that at thirty-five, a time in my life where I should be established and I’m not, really hits me.

  “Well, it seems like you’ve got money. What are you worried about?” she asks, and she makes it sound simple. She can’t understand that growing up the way I did, in a high society family, means high expectations. When I walked away from my family, I hoped I could show them I would succeed on my own.

  “I’ve got some money, yeah, but if I don’t find a job soon, it’ll run out.” She nods her head like she understands what I’ve said.

  “I keep telling myself all we need is one good year here on the ranch and I’ll leave. I just need Papa to make enough money to pay for help. I want to go to school. Problem is the years go by and things aren’t getting any better around here.” She nods. “I promised my mama I’d leave this ranch, and here I am working just as hard as she did. And for what? This ranch has been in my papa’s family going on third generation now. He won’t give up on it. I’m not sure why I don’t just give up on him,” she declares, and I wasn’t expecting her to spill her truths to me but she has.

  “You’re probably scared of failure. I can relate.” I huff. “My entire career I’ve remained in the shadows because I’m scared of failing in front of my family.” I look her straight in the eyes, and she looks back at me. I can see my words have resonated.

  “It fucking sucks to admit you’re scared of failure. Doesn’t it?” She pauses. “And I’ve failed so much, Al, I can�
�t fail anymore.” Her voice cracks and her words gut me. I place my hand over hers, and she gives me a small smile.

  There isn’t much left to say other than we both need to stop being scared but who wants to stop when it’s so much easier than putting yourself out there and failing. “Back to Christmas,” I say, my palm resting on her hand. “I’d like to stay.”

  “Why?” she looks at me and doesn’t get it.

  “Because I like your small town.” I swallow hard again, scared to speak my truth. I’m a fucking coward. She looks me right in the eye, and her silence tells me she thinks so too.

  “Okay, stay for Christmas,” she says, and I think she agrees because she’s a good person who doesn’t want to put a stranger on the street, but when I look down to her hands they are shaking like she’s scared of something. I want to tell her I’m scared too. I’m pretty sure we both look like we just took a plunge and discovered the water below is freezing. It may be frigid, but I won’t let her regret this. I’m going to make sure I heat the damn waters for her. Make her feel warm and cozy.

  “Good. It’s settled, then. Is Farmer Joe going to shoot me?” I ask, trying to keep a straight face. I’m partially trying to break the tension radiating between us and partially trying to figure out if I will truly die.

  My comment buys me a huge bout of laughter. “Maybe.”

  “Let’s go get dressed and buy us a Christmas tree, then,” I say, and I don’t know where it comes from because I’ve never bought a Christmas tree in my life. My family had one delivered every year. It was a tall massive tree that was professionally decorated and sat in the grand foyer of the family mansion. The only thing I can think of is the Christmas movie I watched in the last hotel I stayed at; the couple went out and bought a Christmas tree together. It seems like something I would want to share with Sam.

  “A Christmas tree?” she asks with confusion. “We haven’t had a Christmas tree in this house for a long time. We make fun of papa because he’s so much like the Grinch.”

  I laugh. “That’s funny. I can totally see why you’d say that. We’re on, then? Is there a place you know of to get a tree?” I ask, feeling like a little boy. My excitement surprises me, but my heart is beating fast and my blood is pumping hard. For the first time in a long time my emotions don’t feel fucked-up.

  “Yeah, I know of a place.” Apparently, my excitement is infectious because Sam stands up beside me and rocks on her heels. Her own smile now stretches from cheek to cheek, and that distant look in her eyes is nowhere to be seen.

  “Good. Let’s go get dressed.” I walk toward her room. We take a few quick steps, and I stop. “This is weird.”

  “Yup,” she agrees, like she knows what I’m talking about.

  “We’ve been sleeping in the same bed now for what four nights?”

  “Five,” she corrects me.

  “Now we are going to get changed in the same room,” I state the very awkward facts, but circumstance has placed us both right here, right now in this situation.

  “I know it’s freaking weird. I barely know you. You’re living in my house, sharing my bed, and you’ve seen my backside. Trust me, I’ve thought about our peculiar situation. I tell myself not to over think it, but how can I not?” She seems nervous.

  “Sam?” I ask and she pauses. “I want to kiss you.” She already looks like prey ready to make a run for it, but I can’t stop myself now. I turn to face her and take her hand into mine. We stare deeply into each other’s eyes. The moment is sweet and romantic.

  “Al,” she says my name, and I stop drifting toward her. “You’re too old for me.” I pause and my heart misses a beat. Fuck me. “Al?” she says my name again, but I’m too stunned to answer. “I’m just kidding. Kiss me.”

  I release a breath, and my heart begins to beat rapidly. I press my lips to hers, slowly at first. A warm feeling spreads through my chest as she kisses me back, her warms lips pliant and welcoming. Our lips move together in an effortless motion. I try to take things slow with her, but she moans as my tongue coaxes her mouth open and her lips part. She tastes heavenly and sweet. My body stirs in an unfamiliar way. This isn’t blind passion or lust. There is a deeper connection between us that I’m only just beginning to figure out. As we kiss, I wrap my arms around her waist. Her hands come up to my hair, and she runs her fingers through my buzz cut. When she does, a throaty groan escapes me. She moans into my mouth and the vibration shoots straight to my groin. I have no control over where my thoughts wander, but I need to slow this kiss because I like and respect Sam.

  As much as I want to take her back to her bedroom and have my way with her, I can’t—even if I believe she’d be willing. The reason I can’t take her is not even for my own self-interest, it’s more for hers. I think Sam likes to fuck because it feels good. It’s the same reason I like to fuck around, but by kissing her, I’ve realized something new. I like her. I want to get to know her. If I take her to bed now, I may not get the chance. I don’t know if she feels the same way, but if she does, then we need to explore it and not ruin it. It’s the oddest time to remember something you told your best friend eons ago, but my own voice rings in my head: Even great men fall. I made fun of my best friend as he was falling hopelessly in love with his girlfriend. It was a jackass move I know. I’d been in love before but love was for fools. I promised myself I’d never fall in love again which means right now with Sam I’m totally screwed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sam

  Al drives my truck a good twenty miles over to Groves Nursery since I’m feeling like crap from my hangover and am not in the mood to drive. We don’t say much to each other along the drive. It isn’t uncomfortable. I’m in deep thought after that hot kiss, which completely rocked my world. He also doesn’t mention my car smelling like puke, which is an added bonus because I’m embarrassed. This beautifully broken man, who basically admitted to me he’s a player, is getting under my skin. If I were anywhere close to normal, I’d be running in the opposite direction. I’m not normal, though. I use men like he uses women.

  But that kiss … when our lips connected … just thinking about it makes my heart pump fast, filling my chest with warmth. He knows what he’s doing with that tongue. It feels too hot in this truck as I think about it, the way it slowly melted the ice that’s been built around my heart and caused ice chips to slowly crack off in small bits, reminding me that just maybe I am capable of falling hard for a man. The sign for Groves Nursery pops into my vision.

  “Shit! Make a quick right,” I holler as I snap out of my daze.

  “Huh? When?” Al looks at me then back to the road. He’s about to miss the entrance.

  “Now!” I practically scream it.

  He takes a sharp right and the tires slightly skid against the snow on the ground.

  “Sorry.” I blow out a breath.

  Al gives me a look that says I almost killed us.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I snap, but I’m not really angry. How could I be? He’s so handsome, kind, helpful, funny, sexy. Shit, it’s a long list. I wonder what Mack, Autumn, and Ethan will think of him. Will he be Mack approved? She might think he’s too old for me. And look at me thinking this way … I’ve got to stop. He’s leaving soon.

  He leans in and kisses me. Just like that. I kiss him back. How am I supposed to stop thinking about him when he touches me like this? His thumb comes up and brushes my cheek softly. He has big manly hands, so of course I wonder about the size of his dick. It’s a completely normal thought in my abnormal brain. I let out a sigh. He pulls away and looks into my eyes.

  “I need to stop kissing you, but I can’t.” His lips brush against mine, and it takes everything in me not to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. I need control. I stop the kiss, and he turns away and shuts off the truck.

  I follow him outside. He takes my hand and we enter the nursery. I didn’t take him for a guy that holds a girl’s hand. I sure as hell never walked hand in hand with
Blake or Austin.

  “There are so many trees. How do we choose?” He looks back at me. He’s wearing a pair of stylish running shoes and walking through the snow.

  “I don’t know, but we better choose fast or your toes will snap off,” I comment, looking down at his feet. I can see the leather of his shoes is wet, which means it’s only a matter of time before the snow soaks through.

  My comment buys me a wide smile. It makes my stomach flutter because he’s even hotter when he smiles.

  “What is it with you and my shoes? After we buy a tree, you’re taking me to buy proper winter boots and a pair of work boots too. I plan on working beside you while I’m here.”

  I love every word that has come out of his mouth … except the last three.

  “Sure thing, City.” I wink. He bends down and rolls the snow in his hands. I see that he’s forming a snowball. “Hell no. You don’t want to get into a snowball fight with me,” I warn, reaching down to roll some snow. He whips a ball at my head. It’s cool and disintegrates in my hair and my face.

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong. I actually enjoyed that very much,” he says with a shit-eating grin. He begins to run away from me. The front of this place is lined with rows of Christmas trees. The place had great reviews on Google. I can see why. They have a great selection of trees in all sizes. My competitive side goes into overdrive as I charge after Al with a very large snowball in my fist. I get within a few feet of him and throw as hard as I can. It hits him in the center of his chest, but he’s wearing a jacket so I need to do better. He disappears around a corner. There are people walking around, looking for trees. Some families and some couples. I’ve never gone to buy a tree in my life. It’s actually more fun than I thought it would be. Or maybe it’s just Al is making this fun. With a newly formed snowball in my hand, I search him out. My hands are freezing cold from touching the snow, and my fingers are turning purple, but I want to get him back. He declared war when he got me in the face.