by Kelly, Hazel
“Both,” I said. “And very funny.”
“When are you going to see her again?”
“Maybe later today,” I said. “She’s staying in one of the houses I have to work on.”
“I thought gorgeous women would stop falling in your lap when you left the band, but I guess that was just wishful thinking.”
“She didn’t fall in my lap. She was actually hard work to be honest.”
“Yeah right.”
“It’s true,” I said. “Anyway, I have to go so I can get some work done on site.”
“And here I thought you were doing me a favor going up there.”
“No shit,” I said. “I owe you one.”
Chapter 6: Addison
The phone was ringing when I turned the shower off so I grabbed my towel and tiptoed across the bedroom, leaving wet footprints across the wooden floor.
“Hey.”
“What the fuck, Addison?!” Holly snapped.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone last night?”
“I was out.”
“I’ve been worried sick.”
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize you were trying to get ahold of me.”
“Of course I was trying to get ahold of you! After your big speech about feeling like you were going to get murdered?! And then you don’t answer your goddamn phone when I call to make sure you’re not freaking out?!”
“Calm down. I’m fine.”
“I can hear that you’re fine, and to be honest I have half a mind to come up there and murder you myself right now.”
“I’m sorry, Holly. I didn’t mean to worry you-”
“Yes you did!”
“Maybe yesterday when I first arrived I did, but everything is fine. I was just out and missed your calls.”
“What do you mean you were out?”
“I went to a bar for a few drinks.”
“What? With who?”
“A guy I met yesterday.”
“Oh my god he’s there right now, isn’t he? Are you safe? Wish me a happy birthday if you want me to call the police.”
“Don’t call the police. Jesus. I’m not being held against my will. I’m alone. I swear.”
“I want to believe you, but if there’s a knife to your throat right now-“
“Holly!”
“What?”
“Please take a deep breath,” I said. “You’re stressing me out, and I’m supposed to be relaxing, remember?”
“I remember, but it doesn’t sound like you were relaxing last night.”
“I wasn’t.”
“What guy did you meet in the middle of nowhere?”
“He came to work on the house yesterday.”
“Wait-what? Like a workman?”
I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to think of a fancier way to say it. “More like a carpenter.”
“I don’t get it. Was it a date?”
“It kind of ended like one.”
“Like one of mine or one of yours?”
“One of yours.”
“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t answer my calls because you were sleeping with a handyman last night?”
“If I was, would you forgive me for blowing you off?”
“Yes. Yes I would.”
“Then, yeah. That’s why I missed your calls.”
Silence.
“Holly?”
“What?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Say something.”
“I can’t. I’m in shock.”
“Oh come on. Don’t be that surprised. You’re making me feel bad.”
“I don’t mean to, really. I just-” She stopped to breathe. “You are the last person I would ever expect to a) sleep with someone you just met and b) sleep with someone who does manual labor.”
“I know, but I have a whole new appreciation for manual labor now.”
“Are you being filthy? Was that you trying to make an innuendo?”
“Yeah.”
“Unbelievable. So what makes this guy so special that you let him put his dirty hands on you?”
“I honestly have no idea. I think he put a spell on me or something.”
She laughed. “Wow.”
“I know. The whole day has been kind of an out of body experience.”
“Hence you not seeing my missed calls.”
“Yeah.”
“So tell me everything.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Oh no you don’t,” she said. “I always kiss and tell.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t hook up with nearly enough guys for me to let this slide so I demand you give me the gossip.”
“We just went for a few drinks and then he walked me to the door and kissed me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And one thing sort of led to another.”
“I know how it works, thanks.”
“Then you’re all caught up.”
“Was he any good?”
“Really good,” I said, embarrassed by how much fun it was to be the one with the story for a change. “And not just with his hands.”
“You’re joking.”
“I don’t think my funny bone stretches quite that far.”
“He went down on you?”
I scrunched my face.
“Addison?!”
“Yeah.”
“I thought you didn’t really like that?”
“I liked it when he did it.”
Holly squealed.
I held the phone away from my ear.
“This has totally made my day, Addy.”
“Mine too.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“I don’t know-”
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t not want to have sex with him again.”
“Is that all it is?”
“I’d say so. He’s not really my type.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“You are the pickiest woman I’ve ever met.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Cause any guy who will lick my snatch is my type. Period end of story.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“You should talk,” she said. “What does he look like?”
“Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Sure, whatever.”
“Thor.”
Holly cackled into the phone.
“Your word means nothing.”
“I’m sorry. It’s too much. Does he actually look like Thor or did you just see him using a hammer yesterday and Thor’s the only other guy you’ve ever seen use a tool?”
“I’m being serious. He has long hair and everything.”
“No he doesn’t.”
“Yeah, he does.”
“Okay. I believe you.”
“And he’s ripped.”
“I’m starting to think this guy isn’t going to be much help with lowering your heartrate.”
“No,” I said. “I suppose not. Plus, he’s a complete asshole.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s cocky.”
“Do you mean that literally or figuratively?”
I rolled my eyes. “Both I guess, but he clearly thinks he’s god’s gift to women.”
“So what? You always go for conceited guys.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do. Nice guys don’t stand a chance with you. You’re too bossy.”
“Huh.” Maybe that’s why I was so attracted to him. Maybe his overconfidence was my kryptonite.
“So is he going to call or-”
“He doesn’t even have my number. It was probably just a once off thing.”
“I guess it’s hard to guess if you just met the guy.”
“Yeah.”
“And let him lick you raw.”
“Holly!”
“What?”
“Please cont
rol yourself.”
“So you’re just waiting for him to swing by and nail you again?”
“I’m not waiting for anything.”
“With his big hammer.”
I groaned. “You’re making me regret that I said anything.”
“I’m just teasing you. Relax.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. And trust me, it’s not easy when I remember the traffic jam that’s probably already happening in my email inbox.”
“Especially when it’s your other box you wish was getting jammed.”
“You’ve been hanging out with Nick too much. I swear to god you’re like a seventeen year old boy.”
“I wish.”
“Anyway, thanks for calling to check on me last night. I’m really sorry I missed you.”
“No you’re not.”
“Okay, fine. I’ve never been less sorry I missed your calls ever.”
“I forgive you.”
“But I just got out of the shower so I need to get dressed.”
“Fair enough. I was supposed to be back at my desk like twenty minutes ago anyway.”
“I’ll check in later.”
“Sounds good,” she said. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed that Romeo shows up again.”
“Please do,” I said.
“In fact, maybe if I cross them really hard, he’ll knock on the door right now and save you the trouble of getting dressed.”
Chapter 7: Wyatt
Physically, I was able to avoid Addison all afternoon.
But mentally, she was at the front of my mind all day. Well, she and the song I started working on that morning.
So when I pulled up to her cabin and saw her reading on the porch, I felt instantly lighter.
And when she lifted her head from her book, I nodded and turned off the ignition.
“Hi,” I said, walking towards the porch.
She stood and came to the railing. She was wearing a thin strapped tank top and some short shorts, much like the day before. “Hi.”
“I just wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay.”
“I am.”
I smiled. “Good. So you didn’t cook too much in the rug?” I was about to run my hand over my hair when I saw they were covered in soot from breaking down an old chiminea.
“I cooked a bit.”
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. It beat waking up on the floor.”
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans and rocked back on my heels. “That’s what I figured.”
“So were you looking to do some more work on the porch today?” she asked, pointing over her shoulder towards the house. “Cause I can get out of your way.”
“Actually, I just stopped by to see you. Figure I’ll save the staining for another day.”
“Uh-huh.” She raised her eyebrows. “Well, you’ve seen me.”
“Small talk isn’t your thing, I take it?”
She gripped the railing in front of her. “It’s not something I usually have time for.”
“We’ll if you’re in the middle of something-”
“I’m not,” she said. “I was just reading. Actually, I was about to get myself something to drink. Would you like something?”
I looked down at my sooty jeans. “I’m afraid I’m a bit dirty to be socializing.”
“I can see that,” she said. “But I think it’ll be okay if you stay outside.”
“Do you treat all your visitors like stray dogs or is that special treatment reserved for me?”
“Do you want a drink or not?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Have a seat,” she said, extending an open palm towards one of the deck chairs. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”
Her bare feet were eye level from where I stood on the ground, and something about seeing her out of her heels stirred something in me. When she turned around, I let my eyes travel to where her shorts cut across the back of her thighs.
I walked up the porch steps and took a seat. Then I flipped over the book on the table and crinkled my face. I wouldn’t have pegged her for the chick lit type.
A moment later, she pushed the door open with her butt and came out with two tall classes of what looked like cranberry juice.
“Thanks,” I said, blatantly trying to peek down her shirt as she bent over to set the glasses on the table. I still hadn’t seen her breasts, and the mystery of them had been gnawing at me all day.
“I hope it’s okay,” she said. “It’s sort of an experimental drink.”
“Oh?”
“Try it,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her.
The glass was already sweating from the dry evening heat as I lifted it to my lips and took a sip.
She raised her eyebrows. “Well?”
“It tastes like sangria.”
“Excellent,” she said, obviously pleased with herself. “I was hoping it would.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“No,” she said, taking a step back. “I just figured beer would be your first choice, but wine is the best I can do and you looked like you needed something cold.”
“I’m not that sweaty.”
“Really? Your shirt looks pretty wet to me.”
I looked down at the darkened fabric over my chest. “I see what you mean.”
“One sec,” she said, disappearing back into the house.
I reached forward and took another sip of the drink. It was sweet, but not bad.
“Just to prove how much I’m not trying to get you drunk,” she said, coming back outside with a large platter. “I rustled up some snacks in case you’re hungry.”
I furrowed my brow at the plate in the center of the table. “You call that snacks?”
She sat down on the wicker chair closest to me. “It’s all I have.”
“Do I look like the kind of guy that munches baby carrots to you?”
“No,” she said. “But they’re actually nice if you dip them in the hummus.”
“No they aren’t.”
“Yes they are.”
“And what the hell are those?”
“Rice cakes.”
“Fucking hell.”
“You don’t have to eat them.”
“I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but that is the shittiest spread I’ve ever been presented with.”
“What a charmed life you must lead.”
I shook my head, reached for a rice cake, and sniffed it. “It smells like something I would use to insulate drywall.”
She rolled her eyes. “They’re supposed to be healthy.”
“Yeah, well, so is grass, but I wouldn’t call it a snack.”
“Have you ever had one?” she asked. “They’re not offensive if you put peanut butter on them.”
“Nothing is,” I said, tossing it back on the plate. “I guess I’m just confused.”
“Why?”
“Cause last night I took you out and you were happy with MGD, and then today I show up and you’re eating rice cakes and reading Confessions of a Shopaholic.”
“That’s cause last night was my choice.”
“And this shit isn’t?” I asked, gesturing to the items on the table.
She shook her head.
“I’m listening.”
“The book isn’t mine. It was just in the house, and I thought it would make me feel a little less far from the city.”
“Whose book is it?”
“I don’t know. Someone must’ve left it here.”
“And the appalling snacks?”
“They were chosen for me.”
I raised my eyebrows. “By someone who thinks you’re fat?”
“By someone who wants me to take care of myself.”
I let my knees fall apart as I reached for my drink. “Can I ask who that might be?”
“My boss.”
“Oh right. He have a crush on you or something? Cause he has a weird way of showing-”
“No. It’s a woman.”
“Kinky.”
“I’m afraid not,” she said. “But I’m here on her orders and, as you can see, I don’t exactly have wheels to go get other food.”
“Your boss sent you here?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I mentioned it last night.”
I smiled. “My mind must have been on other things.”
One side of her mouth curled up as she looked away from me. “I’m on strict orders to relax.”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that.”
“Maybe you’ve never met someone as tightly wound as I am.”
“Maybe.”
She pulled her feet up in front of her and hugged her knees. “I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t agree with that.”
My lips fell apart.
“It’s not a big deal. I’m just supposed to take some time off before a big project so I’m nice and fresh for it and don’t sue my employer for burning me out.”
“I see.” I licked a drop of the homemade tonic off my lips. I was coming around to it. In fact, I was beginning to think it was the second best thing I’d tasted in the last twenty four hours. “You some kind of workaholic?”
“No,” she said, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. “Just ambitious.”
I nodded. “So tell me, what’s your life’s greatest ambition?”
She looked up out of the corner of her eye and then back at me. “I guess it’s to be the highest paid, most well reputed management consultant in New York.”
“Huh.”
“What do you mean huh?”
I shrugged. “Is that it?”
“Trust me. That’s enough.”
“You have any family goals or…?”
“Family goals?”
“Yeah, you know. The white picket fence, two and a half kids-”
“No.”
“Well I’m sure you’ll get what you’re after with laser focus like that.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I intend to.”
“In the meantime- while you’re not running New York- would you like to get some real food?”
“Like what?”
“Like anything with a fat and/or meat component?”
She laughed.
“Or were you going to fill up on rice cake and hummus sandwiches?”
“I guess I could get some food,” she said, looking me up and down. “But no one is going to serve you in that state.”
“Maybe I should grab a quick shower.”
“Yeah, I’d say that’s definitely called for.”