by Mays, Nikki
"Men really make the worst friends," I tell them in awe.
"Shhhh, don't insult him. He and Dec are the key to me finally having my husband all to myself again. Do you even know when the last time that we ate dinner without Bubs around? He's my brother and I love him, but he's got to go." She leans in and whisper-yells at me.
"Okay, so now that we told you our plans, want to tell us why you're here?" I bat my eyelashes at him while smiling sweetly. Maybe if I'm overly nice, he'll tell us why he's here so that he can go on his way. All I get in return is his eyes getting all squinty at me. Too much?
"I'm here to see you." He replies like it should be obvious. Yeah, mister personality just loves to hang out with people. Gee why wasn't that my automatic thought?
"You who? You as in me or you as in Mellie?" I ask him getting an unwelcome fluttering in my tummy. Please say Mellie...please Mellie. Please don't say Mellie...please don't say, Mellie. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me?
"Not Mel." Well damn.
"Ummm." I'm so articulate around him. See I can think the big words! Why can't I just say the big words dammit?
"Well hey, look at the time! I need to be getting home to Morris and MJ...and probably Marc." She says on a sigh. "Yup, need to go set up that profile." Smooth Mellie...real subtle. She's power walking around the kitchen grabbing her bag and the rest of her crap. "Have fun you two! Bye!"
"Ah Mel, you should..." I start to warn her but it's too late.
"Owww! Shit!" Mel screeches as her left hip hits the metal counter.
"Watch out for the edge of the counter." Damon finishes my sentence. That's definitely going to leave a mark.
"Grrrrrr! I've been doing so good about not walking into or tripping over things lately. Do you this will bruise?"
"Probably not." I lie easily. That's going to be black and blue as a mother fluffer.
"Okay, well on that embarrassing note, I'm out of here. Night Dam. See you tomorrow Shell." She walks out very carefully.
"Night, see you tomorrow love," I reply while Damon grunts out something that I guess is goodnight? Honestly, would it kill him to use full words and not just caveman sounds? And then there were two.
Well, shoot! I just realized that I'm alone with him once again. And my stupid, traitorous girly parts are weeping with joy. Nope! I refuse to get all horny for the sexy, tatted up, slight beard wearing, tall, muscly, firm...hmmm, where was I going with this?
I'm not sure but I don't think that the look in those caramel eyes is going to be good for my health. My vagina...probably. My heart...probably not. I wish that I could just be an HO for once in my life. I mean would it be so bad to just climb him like a tree?
I lean back against the counter with my arms crossed over my chest to stop myself from going over and licking him.
"So why did you come to see me?" I ask when the silence and his unnerving stare has finally gotten to me.
"I think that we need to talk about a few things." He states.
"You want to talk? The man who has been pretty much mute for the past couple of years. You want to come here now and talk to me? Are you high?" He must be on drugs.
"Why do people keep asking me if I'm high?" He frowns down at me. "Yes, I think that we have a few things to discuss. And to have a discussion, we have to talk." He tells me like I'm stupid. You're not starting off on the right foot here buddy.
"What could we possibly have to discuss Damon? Are you ignoring my existence for years? Are you being a jerk whenever you had to interact with me? You being a creepy mute?" I go down the list of things that have bothered me. His eyes definitely got all squinty at the creepy mute part but screw it! He wants to do this...we'll do this.
" I have my reasons as to why I did what I did. You may not like them but it is what it is."
"What does that even mean?" I say already exasperated with this conversation. It's been a long day and I have a feeling that it's going to be a long night.
"It means that I told myself that I needed to stay away from you. That you were too good for an asshole like me, or as you so eloquently put it, a creepy mute. That you deserved a hell of a lot better than someone who has looked down the barrel of a scope way too many times."
Holy Shit! Is he saying what I think that he's saying? No this can't be right. He really must be on drugs.
Damon continued to pour his heart out. "But I've come to the realization that I just don't give a fuck anymore. It's been torture trying to stay away from you and I've decided that that ends now." He standing across from me mimicking my pose. I don't even know what to do with everything that he's just said. Especially since this is the most that I've ever heard him speak. My brain is taking a bit to process that.
"What do you want me to say, Damon? Yay! Let's are besties? Let's start doing everything together? I mean be real here. This is the most that you've EVER said to me and you tell me that you can't stay away from me anymore? It didn't really seem too difficult to ignore me for years. So, do you honestly expect me to jump for joy over the fact that you now want to grace me with your wonderfully bubbly personality? Cause I've got to tell you, I'm less than thrilled." I say in the snarkiest tone that I can manage.
Inside I'm jumping around like a teenage girl who just got asked to prom by the quarterback. I mean what red-blooded woman wouldn't be a teensy weensy bit pleased that the sexy man she's been lusting over for years tells her that he wants her.
I mean would I love nothing more than to have his words make me forget the last two years? Most definitely, but they can't
"Yeah, I was told that you might be less than receptive to my declaration." I make a very unladylike snort at that.
"Well, whoever told you that deserves a cookie." He gives me a raised eyebrow to that. Seriously, how are his eyebrows sexy too? "And what are you actually declaring here Griz?"
"Why the fuck are you calling me Griz?" He growls at me.
"You remind me of a big, growly, pissed off bear. I feel like it's a good fit." I answer him with a saccharine smile.
"It's not." He replies flatly.
"Too bad. I like it and it's staying." I'm keeping it especially if he doesn't like it
In the quickest movement that I've ever seen, he goes from leaning against the wall across from me to inches away from me. If he even leans in an inch more out noses will be touching.
"Doll, you can call me whatever the hell you want, but when I finally get inside you." He holds up his hand to ward off the protest that I was about to make. "And I will be inside of you, no matter how long your stubborn ass holds out, the only name that you'll be screaming will be Damon. Not even calling out God is an acceptable alternative. You pickin' up what I'm throwing down to you sweetness?" He's so damn close that I can smell his breath. It smells like mint and something else dark and spicy.
"Hrmph. Whatever, GRIZ, we'll see. But you really should understand that right now you are so far away from home plate, that you haven't even come up to bat."
"I'm a patient man dollface. I've waited two years for you. Waiting until you've decided that you've tortured me enough is going to seem like a blip in time." He has me completely caged in against the counter. Those gorgeously tatted arms are on either side of me and I can honestly say that there is nowhere I'd rather be.
"Why do you keep calling me Doll?" I whisper to him. This moment with him is so intimate, that even using my normal voice seems wrong.
"Because you look like the 1950's version of pure sex mixed with cherries. From your hair, whatever you call that style, to your makeup, down to your clothes and shoes, you’re a 1950's goddess. The doll is the only thing that fits for you. Well maybe cherry since you wear shirts and dresses with those on them a lot."
I have to clear my throat a few times before saying anything because all of a sudden I have a huge lump in my throat. "My hair is done in victory rolls usually, except for when I go with bumper bangs." He doesn't say anything, just kind of hums his acknowledgment. I clear my throat
again because that's apparently going to become my thing whenever he's around.
My style is definitely rockabilly glam. I love everything vintage, from makeup down to my shoes. The only downside is that it's pricey. There aren't as many avenues for rockabilly clothing as there are for today's fashion. Also, most of the retailers are in the UK. It can totally get tricky figuring out the correct size. But it's worth it to love what I wear.
"So, um, did you need to say anything else? I need to clean up and get out of here."
"I'm not stopping you." He has no idea how untrue that statement is. I feel like my legs are filled with lead.
"You kind of are." I point out the obvious. Can't exactly move when I'm being caged in by 200 something pounds are raw, solid, yummy muscle. I wonder if I actually need to anything. This is a pretty good spot to be.
"Right." He moves enough to barely, and I mean barely, lets me scoot past him. At his swift intake of breath, I realize that he must have felt my boobs brush his arm. Good to know that I have that kind of effect on him. A girl got to use everything she's got when dealing with a man like him.
The next few minutes pass with me doing my end of day cleaning routine. I like to make sure that everything is cleaned and prepped for the next day. Nothing worse than being behind schedule before you even start your day.
Damon is just standing off to the side watching me and it's starting to get to me. I'm not one of those people who enjoy the complete silence. I need background noise or something. Feeling his penetrating gaze on me the whole time is not really helping.
"How was your day?" I asked when I can't take the silence a moment longer. I still have at least 15 minutes worth of cleaning and I cannot do that with his just tearing at me.
I look up and see him with a smirk on his face. Like he's part of an inside joke that I'm not privy to. Seriously though? How was your day? Fuck My Life. I can't come up with anything better? God my flirting sucks!
Damon
Well, that didn't take her very long. I swear that I've never met anyone who hates silence as much as she does. I learned that tidbit very early on in my stalking. She always has to be talking or listening to music. Hell, I've even caught her talking to herself a few times just to fill the void. You would think that I would hate the fact that she has an incessant need to talk but it's the opposite. I love just listening to her ramble on and on. I guess it's true that opposites attract.
"You want to know how my day was?" She looks up at me with a pretty blush spreading across her cheeks and nods her head. Why she's embarrassed about asking me a question, I have no idea, but it's cute as fuck. "We had an interesting call today that was pretty entertaining."
"What happened?" She asks as she continues to wipe down all of the confusing ass gadgets she has. I couldn't even tell you what half of this shit does.
"We were called out to get a woman to stop drowning her husband." Michelle stops what she's doing and stares at me with wide eyes.
"How is a woman trying to drown her husband entertaining to you?"
"She wasn't trying to kill him as much as she was trying to embarrass the living hell out of him."
"Why?" She asks while scrunching up her nose. Even doing that she's sexy as hell. However, I doubt that she would appreciate me telling her that at this point.
"Because he cheated on her with a stripper in her early twenties. They've been married for a decade and she just popped out their fourth kid or something. She was pretty pissed. So, she decided to hold him hostage with an unloaded gun while simultaneously dunking his dumb ass underwater."
She tilts her head to the side to ponder what I just told her. I'm a little surprised by her response but I shouldn't be. Not with how she and Mel are.
"Good for her! Too bad she just didn't shoot him. I've heard that sometimes when a man gets shot in the leg by his groin, he isn't always able to get it up anymore. Can't cheat with a useless dick. Yeah, she should've shot him." She says that with enough conviction to make me want to grab my dick and block it from her view. Crazy ass women.
"She was afraid that she would lose her NRA membership if she shot him."
"Hmmm, yeah I wouldn't want to lose mine either. Make sense why she didn't shoot him then."
"You have an NRA membership?" I ask a whole lot surprised. She doesn't strike me as the type of woman to carry. But then again I should probably expect the unexpected when it comes to her.
"Of course!" She scoffs at me.
"Do you even know how to shoot a weapon?" She doesn't answer me verbally. She just arches one of those perfectly manicured eyebrows at me and turns back to what she was doing. Okay than. "Who taught you how to shoot?"
"My dad, Mel's dad, and Marc. They taught Mellie and I both how to shoot years ago. We ended up taking a liking to it and are pretty good. We try to get to the range at least once a month to keep sharp."
The entire time she answered my questions, l pictured her in one of her tight ass outfits. I could picture how much her chest much shake during the recoil. Fuck I needed to get myself under control. I was getting hard just standing here thinking about her shooting a gun.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been laid.
Well, that and my dick doesn't want anyone else. Nope, he wants the blonde bombshell who dresses like a 1950's pinup girl. He won't even consider any substitutions at this point. I wondered if anyone has ever died from lack of sex?
"You know, I don't think that anyone has ever mentioned what your dad does. Even when he was here during the setup of this shop, no one ever mentioned what he does for a living." She gives me a snort but doesn't answer. I just stand there watching her until she looks up at me.
"You’re series?" She asks me in a bewildered tone. "You have no idea what he does?"
"Nope." I don't get what the big deal is. That is until she answers.
"My dad's an Admiral in the Navy. I can't believe no one ever mentioned that before. Most of the time people are so far up my dad's ass it's ridiculous."
"Huh." Didn't see that one coming.
"Huh, what?" She asks standing with one hand on her hip. Sassy little shit.
"When I met him, he seemed down to earth. Not what you usually get from someone so high up." It's the truth too. He was cool as hell the few times that I've met him. I've had to deal with some higher-ups over the years who were miserable assholes who thought that their shit didn't stink. Definitely wouldn't have pegged Joe as an Admiral.
"My mom has never let him get "too big for his britches" as she likes to say. Dad may be in charge while at work but mom controls dad. That man does not step one foot out of line where my mon is concerned. Truthfully, she's actually a little terrifying. Her dad, my grandpa was a drill sergeant and unfortunately for the rest of us, mom is exactly like him."
She walks to the middle of the kitchen and surveys the area while dusting herself off. Even with wearing an apron, which, is designed to look like it's also out of the 1950's, she is always covered in flour. After dusting herself off, she picks up her bag and retrieves her car keys.
"Okay, I'm all set here, time to go." She announces while she walks around turning off all the lights.
"Let's go lock up the front and then I'll walk you out back to your car."
"Damon, we locked up the front hours ago after our last customer of the day left."
"The door isn't locked Doll, that’s the way that I came in." We will be having a long discussion about that another time. I can't believe that the two of them were in the back with the front door fucking unlocked. Any asshole could've just walked in off the street. They really need to pay better attention to the shit that they're doing.
"I can guarantee you that I locked that door Dam. I had to use my key to lock the deadbolt. I did it just as the customer left." She looking at me with a from on the pretty face.
"Any reason the Mel might've unlocked it? I know that you say you did but that shit was open when I got here."
"Hmmm, maybe she had to run out for
something really quick and forgot to lock it back up. Once I locked the door, I came back here and did some baking. I have a few recipes that I can't seem to get the way that I want them." She says while walking to the front to lock the deadbolt.
Last year after that crazy bitch Ashley vandalized this place, Morris, Marc, and their dads decided to have a steel door with a deadbolt added on for extra security. As well as polycarbonate windows and an alarm system. The girls think that it's overkill but it definitely gives everyone else peace of mind.
"Okay, all locked up for sure this time. Walk out the door ahead of me so that I can set the alarm." She instructs me.
"I'll set the alarm, just wait outside the door for me."
"How can you set the alarm without the code Dam?" She asks in a snippy little voice with her arms crossed over her ample chest and her foot tapping away.
"I know the code," I grunt out in response.
"How?" She asks suspiciously. If I was her, I'd be a little suspicious too.
"Just do," I reply while gently pushing her towards the door. I've got her talking to me without any hostility or anger right now. The last thing I need to do is to tell her that I made sure that Marc and Morris gave me the code. I'm going to have to ease her into my extracurricular activities where she was concerned. Like maybe waiting until we're 90 and on our deathbeds.
Once the code is set, I lock the door and start walking towards her car with her reluctantly following me. How can I tell that it's reluctantly? Her arms are still crossed over her chest and she's staring at me like I'm a bug that she would like to squish. I don't know which Michelle I prefer. This sassy, take no shit one. The sweet and gentle one. Or the one who would studiously pretend that I wasn't in the same room as her. Honestly, I prefer options 1 & 2. I hated ignoring her, but I hated her ignoring me even more.
I still was n’t convinced that this was the best idea. She is way too sweet, even when she's pissy, for a man like me. But my control is completely gone where she is concerned