Mr. Right Goes Wrong

by Pamela Morsi

  “I came over to thank you for hiring Tru,” she said.

  Eli shrugged. “He seems like a nice kid, Mazy. Smart, polite, willing to work—you must be doing something right. That doesn’t happen by accident.”

  She laughed. “Oh, sometimes I think it does. Tru is a great kid, despite having me for a mother.”

  “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.”

  “Well, I still appreciate that you’re taking him on,” she said.

  “I was happy to do it,” he said. “I knew Dad would have done the same. If he has any aptitude, we’ll be able to teach him a few things that he can use.”

  She expected that. It was interesting to think that Tru would be hanging out in the wood shop after school, just as she once had. A close association with the Lathams would be nice for him. They were regular people, salt-of-the-earth guys, not the kind of screwed-up variety that her son had seen so often. If Tru could grow up to have the lifestyle and values that seemed to come so naturally to other people, then he might end up happier than Mazy had been. And happier was definitely something she wanted for her son.

  But in that particular moment, with Eli so close beside her, it was difficult to keep her mind on her son.

  “And I promise to keep a close eye on him,” Eli said. “We’re very big on safety and I’ll make sure that he is, too.”

  The scent of him enveloped her. It was an intoxicating mix of sawdust, shellac and...sexual male. She was definitely enjoying this close encounter with masculine pheromones.

  Mazy sipped her drink and tried to keep her gaze on his face and their conversation light, but she allowed herself some worthwhile glances. Denim jeans covered thighs that were heavily muscled. And his loose long-sleeve tee couldn’t quite disguise the cut, working-man biceps that a million reps in the gym couldn’t duplicate.

  Who knew that Termy would turn out to look like this? An enormous feeling of regret welled up in her. This man had once been hers for the taking. If she had been smarter, less romantically dysfunctional, she could have been nicely settled down with security and safety and a man who was gorgeous, crazy about her and, if she remembered right, very competent in the sack.

  Mazy pushed back against the thought. It probably wouldn’t have worked that way. The very private surroundings and the fact that she hadn’t had sex in months was probably making him look better than he was. And without lessons learned and the recent calamity, she’d had nothing beneficial to offer this very good, very decent man.

  Eli interrupted her thoughts. “He doesn’t know about Driscoll.”

  It was a statement more than a question. “He knows what he needs to know,” Mazy said. “I haven’t tried to keep anything from him. But I have tried to keep...well, my own anger and bitterness to myself. Every person deserves to believe that they were conceived in love, even if it was only love of the moment.”

  “You’re a good human being, Mazy Gulliver.”

  She laughed out loud. “Only you would believe that, Eli Latham,” she replied.

  He was thoughtful for a long moment before he gave her a look. “He asked me today if I was ‘the sperm donor.’”

  “What? Oh, my God! I’ll kill him. Termy, I’m so sorry.”

  “No problem,” he assured her. “It probably made sense to ask. I’d told him that we were friends. I’m the right age. It reasonably could have been me.”

  “As if!” Mazy responded, shaking her head. In memory she recalled the youthful face of the man beside her, gritting his teeth amid his teenage passion as he dutifully stopped to pull on a condom. Eli was far too responsible to get a girl pregnant. And if contraceptives had failed her, he would not have.

  “Have you forgotten that we used to go at it like rabbits?”

  She had not forgotten. In fact, at that particular moment she could hardly keep at bay the memories of sex with Eli.

  Her eyes strayed to his crotch. Was that a bulge? No. Her imagination. It was wishful thinking. Mazy crossed her legs and cleared her throat.

  “Your...your home here is very nice,” she told him before she remembered that she’d already said so.

  “Thanks,” he said, apparently accepting her abrupt change of subject. “I did all this work myself.” There was genuine pride in his voice as he glanced around the room. “Do you remember what it was like down here? All spiderwebs and old mason jars.”

  “Vividly,” she replied. “It bears no resemblance to that scary place. I think I still have nightmares. I hated hide-and-seek in here.”

  He glanced at her with surprise. “You’re kidding. You always suggested it as the best place to play.”

  She nodded. “You know how I am. I go straight at the things that scare me the most.”

  The psychologist had called that part of her nature “flailing for control.” Mazy didn’t share that estimation with Eli.

  “Then I guess you’re the person I should have contacted to help me fix it up,” Eli told her. “I tried to get Clark down here, but he always had some excuse to avoid the place.”

  Mazy nodded. “I would have gone straight at those spiderwebs, but I probably would have tried to talk you out of all this effort. Two words—apartment complex.”

  He laughed. “I’m not sure I could find happiness in a place built with one-by-twos and stuccoed chicken wire.”

  “Still, most people do leave home.”

  “And sometimes they come back.”

  Mazy thought he was referring to her, until he continued. “I actually rented a condo out near Keeper’s Wood for a couple of years. But when Dad got sick I knew I needed to be closer, so I fixed this place up. It’s perfect for me, really. I have all the privacy I want and I’m only a shout-out away from being there to help.”

  “That’s a really good thing,” Mazy said. “I used to worry that if something happened to my mom or she got sick, nobody would be there.”

  “But now you are,” Eli pointed out.

  “I am,” she concurred.

  “I’m glad,” he said. “And I was hoping...”

  “What?

  “I was hoping that now that you’re back home, you and I could maybe pick up where we left off.”

  Mazy’s mouth inexplicably went dry. She felt an inescapable zizz of electricity in the air.

  “Where exactly did we leave off?” she asked him.

  “I believe it was somewhere near the bedroom. Although it may have been a couch much like this one.”

  He was making a joke. She could see that. He was trying to get past the awkwardness of being together again by putting it all in the past and making it a punch line. That was the right thing to do. She should be laughing about it, as well. Strangely, she didn’t want to be.

  Mazy recrossed her legs and deliberately looked around the room again.

  “It seems like you’re still single.”

  “Don’t remind my sister-in-law. She thinks it’s her life’s calling to fix me up.”

  “Ah, Sheila. Once a cheerleader, always a cheerleader. She never really liked me. I bet she’s got some really special, perfect girl lined up for you.”

  He shrugged. “More like a long line of perfectly lovely, ordinary girls that I’m not interested in.”

  “What kind of girls are you interested in?”

  “No girls, just women.”

  “Right. Any particular kind of woman?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not real picky,” he assured her. “She should be, I’d say, about thirty-one years old. Five-seven. Brunette with brown eyes. Slim figure, shapely legs and a great backside. Her breasts are not too big, but nicely perky. And...she’d have to be a vodka-tonic kind of gal.”

  At that, Mazy laughed.

  “Well, I did hear that there was a woman back in town who is very much like that and seems t
o be pretty much available,” she told him.

  “How available?” he asked.

  She should tell him that she was taking some time. She should tell him she wasn’t ready to be involved. She should tell him that she’d given up sleeping with guys just for sex.

  “How fast can you get your clothes off?”

  She didn’t need to ask twice. Eli laid a large, calloused hand upon her jaw and raised her face just slightly before he brought his lips down to hers. She felt enveloped in the scent of him, the warmth of him. Her body remembered him in ways that her frontal lobe had discounted. A little moan of delight escaped her. They had been very good at this. And it had been such a long time.

  When the kiss ended she opened her eyes. He was only inches away.

  “I wanted to do that since the minute I saw you,” he told her.

  “I wanted to do it before I even walked over here,” she replied.

  She slid into his embrace and heard a sigh of pleasure escape him. They had a history. The last time the two had been alone together, they had been like this. Male and female fitting together so perfectly.

  His mouth explored hers. Not with undue pressure or thrusting tongue, but slowly, unhurried, searching the experience. Their lips parted hesitantly and she looked into the depths of his eyes, her heart plummeting and then flying to her throat like a roller coaster.

  She disguised her reaction with a joke. “Hey, bud, don’t you know you’re supposed to ply me with strong drink and make promises that you don’t mean?”

  “I can do that,” Eli answered. “But I’d rather do this.”

  He tilted his head slightly and kissed her again. This time he kept his hands on the couch. Not one finger touched her skin. Only his lips caressed her. But his lips were enough. Her nipples hardened uncomfortably against the fabric of her bra. And an ache began to pulse between her thighs. She squeezed tightly against it, which did not alleviate it in the slightest.

  “I’d rather do this, too,” she told him.

  She began tugging at her shirt and managed to get it up over her head. She reached behind her for the hooks on her bra, but he pushed her hands away. Instead of taking it off her himself, he leaned down and bit her nipple through the fabric. The tease got more response than it should have. She pressed against him, despising the barrier.

  “Take it off. Take it off,” she pleaded.

  “I think that’s supposed to be my line,” Eli told her before lowering his mouth to the other breast.

  It had been so long. And it felt so good. It felt so good she could barely stand it. Mazy threw her head back and moaned aloud.

  Finally he released the hooks on that cursed binder and she was able to feel his flesh against hers. She slid her arms around his neck and he enfolded her into his lap.

  Mazy straddled him on the couch to press against him. No doubt about that bulge now. It was big and it was hard and she wanted it. She kept her knees as wide apart as the cushions would allow, hoping his hands would take the invitation.

  Eli’s mouth moved over hers, tugging and tasting. It was hot, but without any sense of hurry. He kissed her as if kissing was the only thing he wanted and as if they had all the time in the world.

  She did not have his sense of leisure. Her love-starved body reacted to him with desire in full throttle. She craved sexual release. She didn’t simply want it, she needed it.

  Futilely she tried to caution herself. She admonished herself to hold back. Her better judgment screamed out warnings about ill-considered intimacy. But her body had never paid any attention to the rational being inside her head. And today was not the day she would start. She always wanted what she wanted. And, at this moment, she wanted Eli.

  She broke off the embrace, but not to beg apologies and run to the door. Instead, she unbuttoned her jeans and tried peeling them down her hips.

  “Slow down, Mazy,” he whispered to her.

  “I don’t want to slow down,” she answered. “I want to do it before we both come to our senses and talk ourselves out of it.”

  He chuckled as he ran his thumb down the length of her torso, slipped his hand inside that scrap of nylon that covered her throbbing place and made the ache wonderfully worse.

  “Why would we talk ourselves out of it?” he asked.

  “Because... Oh... Oh... Because I was a shit to you nine years ago.” The words came out in a rush as he unerringly found that perfect place on her body and caressed it with exactly the pressure that she liked. “I was a shit and I’ll probably be like that again. I don’t want to hurt you, Termy. You’re a nice guy.”

  For an instant his hand stopped. “A nice guy,” he repeated.

  She pressed her hand atop his own. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “Please don’t stop. Do me and we’ll talk about it later.”

  For one heart-sickening moment, she was afraid that he wouldn’t. But they were alone, she was naked from the waist up and he was a man with his hand down her panties as she was literally begging for it.

  They skimmed the remainder of her clothes down her legs. She didn’t give him time to discard his own. She unzipped him and climbed aboard. She was too ready, too eager. She came practically the moment he was inside her. It had been so long and it felt so good. She was like warm jelly in his arms as she collapsed against his chest.

  “Wow, oh, wow,” she breathed against his neck.

  “I know,” he answered. “For me, too.”

  But he was too much the good guy to finish on his own. He laid her out beneath him on the plush couch where he savored her and favored her until he brought her there again before they were done.

  He woke her a couple of hours later and carried her from where they’d fallen asleep on the floor to the bedroom. It was slow and sweet this time, almost achingly sweet. He’s such a good lover, Mazy thought through the haze of pleasure. He’s going to make some lucky woman a great husband.

  11

  The scent of coffee filled her nostrils and Mazy opened her eyes. Eli was sitting on the bed beside her, mug in hand. From the tiny basement window next to the ceiling, a gray light was seeping in. He was smiling.

  “Good morning, Mazy,” he said. “My wonderful, amazing Mazy.”

  He planted a tender kiss on her forehead.

  “Morning.”

  She sat up in the bed and pushed the hair out of her face. Her body felt great. The release of tension and the surge of hormones was exactly what the doctor ordered. Her conscience, however, was not quite as pleased. Mornings after were always dicey. She feared this one might be more so than usual.

  “Have you got some of that for me?” she asked, indicating the cup.

  “This is yours,” he said. “One sugar, no milk, right?”

  “You remember how I take my coffee?”

  “I remember everything.”

  The phrase scared her. She suddenly felt trapped. She had warned him last night that she had been a shit and she would probably be a shit. But she’d also begged him to do her. She should never have jumped back into bed with him. He deserved better. He always had. He knew her too well and he cared too much. Now there would be expectations. And she didn’t know what she felt yet.

  She knocked back a hot swig of coffee. “What time is it?”

  “About six,” he answered. “I don’t think anybody next door is up yet. You can probably sneak back inside with no one being the wiser.”

  “Whose reputation am I saving? Mine or yours? Trust me, nobody in my family will be surprised that I’ve crawled in bed with somebody.”

  It wasn’t quite the truth. Beth Ann and Tru might not be surprised, but they might be worried. She was worried herself. What was she doing here? Did she want a relationship with Eli? This should be familiar territory, but it wasn’t. Her new self, the woman she was trying to
be, was more thoughtful, more deliberate. What if this was more of her old self creeping back? What if she couldn’t overcome her psychology? What if her compulsion to seek out rejection overrode her conscious desire for a more healthy, loving relationship? What would happen to Eli then? Would she use him like she had before?

  She couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but she could hear the confusion in his voice.

  “If you want to stay, of course you can stay.”

  “No, no. I’ve got to get home.”

  She threw back the covers. Ignoring her own nudity, she hurried through the basement retrieving her clothes, putting them on as if all the demons in hell were after her.

  Of course, these particular demons were strictly her own. Once more she’d allowed her physical desires, her love of love, her longing for connection, to override all her rational brain cells.

  What she’d said last night when she saw him was typically true. She tried to never make the same mistake twice. Or rather, she made the same mistake over and over again, but she always tried making it with somebody new.

  But this was a worse mistake than simply sleeping with a jerk. Rebounding with the rebound guy. She didn’t want to do that again. Hadn’t good old Eli, the sweetest guy in town, been on the wrong end of her bad behavior enough already? She needed to get out of here fast. They’d never be able to pretend it hadn’t happened. But she had to get away before she did any more damage.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Eli had followed her into the living room.

  “Nothing.”

  “Something,” he countered with conviction.

  “Look I...” Mazy didn’t know what to say. “I...I had a great time. You and I, well, we’re good together in the sack. We already knew that. I just...I just don’t want to rush into being more than that.”

  “I’m not in any rush,” Eli told her. “Remember, you’re the one who was in such a hurry last night.”

  He was smiling at her. More than smiling, he was glowing at her, heart in his eyes. She recognized that look for what it was. Eli was totally hooked. Damn! Why couldn’t she learn to keep her pants zipped?