“Well,” she breathed out as she sagged back against the counter, oven mitts still on her hands. I braced myself for the disapproval that was sure to come. Would she give me a lecture? Tell me to stay away from her son? “That’s one hell of a love story, if I’ve ever heard one.”
Two things happened—my jaw dropped open because that was the last thing I expected her to say. And I also turned ten shades of red because she implied her son and I were in love.
“Oh… Uhh…” I stammered and let out a nervous laugh. “We’ve only known each other for, like, three days…”
She made a dismissive sound and started to take the aluminum foil off the lasagna.
“Here, you can slice the garlic bread.” She patted the space on the counter next to her and handed me a bread knife.
As I started cutting the loaf into thick slices, I glanced at Karen out of the corner of my eye. I’d forgotten what it felt like to make dinner with a mother-type figure. It was nice. Claire wasn’t much of a cook. She said slaving away in the kitchen stifled her creative mind—whatever that means.
Working side by side with Karen felt more comfortable than it should, considering I’d just met the woman.
“So you don’t think my situation is weird?” I asked, hesitantly.
She paused. “How much did Travis tell you about me?”
“Some.” I glanced at her. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her I knew about her drinking problems. “He said you’re a great mom and he’s proud of you.”
“He’s a good boy,” she said warmly. “I’ll be the last one to throw stones. If you think I’m gonna judge you because of where you came from, you’re wrong. I’m an alcoholic. Been sober for seven months and sixteen days.”
“That’s really great. The sober part, I mean,” I added, and she laughed.
“I’ll bet Travis didn’t tell you you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home,” she said while she heaped lasagna onto four plates.
I added a few pieces of garlic bread to each plate as I tried to hide my surprise. “No, he didn’t tell me that.”
“I’ve been waiting for this day,” she beamed at me then turned to yell into the living room. “Dinner’s up, boys!”
Dinner at my mom’s house went just as well as I knew it would. Angel fit right in. Colton and I discussed some business at the shop and the Mount Vernon delivery he had to haul in the morning, until Mom told us to stop talking about work at the dinner table.
Before our plates were even clean, Mom had out the photo albums.
“And this one is Travis in the baby tub. He had the cutest little tushy…” she pointed out, and Angel laughed so hard her eyes watered.
Seriously, naked baby pictures?
Kill me now.
I sent a scowl in Angel’s direction, but she just smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. The corners of my lips twitched. I guess I deserved that.
As we were getting ready to leave, I turned to my mom. “Angel wants to find some temporary work while she’s here. You got any ideas?”
“Well, we don’t need any help at the post office. That’s where I work,” she informed Angel. “It would be difficult to find a job for such a short amount of time.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of house-cleaning, babysitting, or dog-walking,” Angel told her. “I’ve done some pet-sitting before.”
“You know, Beverly Johnson is looking for someone to do some yard work. She’s almost eighty and she’s having trouble getting around these days. Have you ever mowed a lawn before?” my mom asked.
“No, but I could do it,” she replied with confidence.
“I’ll see Beverly at church tomorrow morning. I’ll tell her you’ll stop by. Is Monday around noon okay?”
“That would be perfect.” Angel smiled brightly.
After my mom wrote down Beverly’s address and landline phone number—because she didn’t have a cell phone—we said our goodbyes.
Before we could get out the door, my mom loaded us down with leftovers, hugged Angel again, and told her to come visit any time.
As we got ready for bed, I didn’t even bother with the pillow wall. We both knew it wouldn’t keep us apart.
Angel changed into gray leggings, which made her ass look phenomenal, and a plain black tank top.
Hoping the extra layers would help me keep my hands to myself, I put on a T-shirt and baggy sweatpants. I seriously doubted it would do any good, though.
Without thinking, I always gave Angel the side of the bed that butted up against the wall and I took the side closest to the door. I don’t know why I did it. For some reason, I felt the need to protect her even when there wasn’t any danger.
Leaving a couple feet of space between us, I slid under the covers after I turned out the lamp.
“Your mom is pretty great. She’s awesome, actually,” Angel said quietly.
The moonlight came through the window, and a silvery glow radiated off her light hair.
“She loved you. I knew she would,” I told her.
“Has she ever dated? You know, since your dad?” She turned onto her side to face me.
“No. Colt and I tried to set her up with Hank once. We thought it would be the coolest thing ever to be stepbrothers.” I laughed at the memory.
“I take it the date didn’t go so well?” she concluded. Even in the shadows, I could see her smile.
“Well, it might’ve helped if we told them we were setting them up,” I said. “We were twelve at the time and I guess we didn’t understand what a blind date was. I invited Hank over for dinner one night but I didn’t tell Mom about it. We thought we were being so sly.” I laughed. “They caught on pretty quick.”
“What happened?” she urged.
“We’d all had dinner together before, so that wasn’t new. With Colt and me being such good friends and we were neighbors… But this time we lit candles and shit.” I cringed. “And we may have put on some Marvin Gaye…”
Angel burst out laughing. “Oh my God! Way to be subtle about it.” She poked me in the ribs. I wanted to keep touching her so I grabbed her hand and held it between us.
“I think Hank always had a little crush on her. They had a lot in common—single parents, both widowed.”
“What happened to Colton’s mom?” she asked.
“Breast cancer. She was only thirty. I never met her because Colt and Hank moved here after she passed away. They wanted a new start,” I explained. “Anyway, the blind date… Mom ended up having one too many drinks and she fell asleep on the couch. Hank understood she wasn’t ready. He took me aside and told me he didn’t have to be with my mom to stay in my life. Told me he loved me like a son.”
Angel sighed wistfully. “You’re so lucky. You have so much here.”
“You’re here now,” I stated, wanting her to know she had a place in my life, too.
“Yeah. I’m here now,” she quietly agreed.
Sunday morning started exactly how I thought it would. Lying on my back, Angel’s leg was hooked over my hip and her head rested on my chest. This was the first time I’d woken up before her, and it gave me some time to study her without her knowing it. She looked even more innocent when she slept.
I felt something tickling my cheek and realized it was a strand of her hair.
Actually, her hair was everywhere. Last night it had been sleek and straight but now it was a wild, chaotic mess, spanning out in all directions. It tumbled over the pillow we were sharing and covered half her face.
She was beautiful.
Outside I heard the rumbling of thunder, and raindrops pelted the window pane.
Damn. That ruined my plans for today.
I thought about getting out of bed but I didn’t want to wake Angel. Her deep, even breathing and the rhythmic pattering of the rain lulled me back to sleep. I drifted in and out for a while, feeling peaceful with her in my arms.
One crash of thunder was particularly loud and it woke Angel, making her jump.
“Shhh. It’s just a thunderstorm,” I murmured and kissed the top of her head.
She relaxed back into me.
After a minute, she groaned. “I don’t want to get out of bed. Rainy days always make me feel lazy.”
“We could just stay here all day.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
She laughed and playfully smacked my chest. Then her face turned mischievous.
“And what would you do if I wanted to stay right here…” She sat up and swung her leg over me so she was straddling my hips. “All day?” She batted her eyelashes innocently at me.
Fuuuuuck.
Days ago, she’d been shy. Hesitant.
She was getting bolder with me and I liked it. I liked it a little too much. I went from slight morning wood to raging hard-on in an instant.
Without a doubt, we were going to have sex at some point. There was no way I could last three weeks with Angel in my bed, and I could tell she was having trouble controlling herself, too.
I didn’t stand a chance. But it wasn’t going to happen today.
It was killing me to put the brakes on like this, but I already knew I wanted something real with her. If she was going to be living two-thousand miles away, our relationship would need a solid foundation to stand on. I was determined to make that happen. Unfortunately, we needed time but that wasn’t something we had a lot of.
I decided to diffuse the sexual tension with humor.
“I’m a little scared,” I told her.
Her face immediately changed to concerned. “Of what?”
“I’m like ninety percent sure your hair has a life force of its own and I might be attacked,” I teased, cracking a smile.
She gasped. “I can’t believe you!”
Angel picked up a pillow and hit me with it. Scrambling, she tried to make it off the bed, but I grabbed her around the waist and held her to me, pulling her back against my chest.
“Kidding! I’m just kidding.” I laughed as she put up a half-hearted struggle to get away. “Baby…” I whispered.
As soon as I said that, she melted. Obviously, she liked being called baby. Noted.
Although I gave her a hard time about her hair, Angel was still the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen, bedhead and all.
“I had big plans for us today, but the rain kind of ruined it,” I grumped.
“Oh yeah? What plans?” She looked back at me over her shoulder.
“I wanted to make up for our bad date. I was going to take you fishing.”
“I love fishing!” She squirmed until she turned around to face me. “I won a fishing derby when I was eight. I caught the biggest fish,” she said proudly.
“We’ll have to do that another time, then. I want to see these mad fishing skills.” I placed my hand on her side and rubbed my thumb back and forth over her hipbone.
“What do you normally do on Sundays?” she asked, raising her hand up to lightly rub her fingers over the stubble on my jaw.
I shrugged. “Laundry. Sometimes I get some cleaning done.”
“I can help with all that.”
“I’m not making you do my laundry, Angel.”
“You’re not making me. I want to. It’s the least I could do. Please?” she pleaded.
When she looked at me like that with those big eyes, how could I say no?
Since Colton was gone on a delivery, it was just Travis and me in the apartment. We worked well together as a team. I did the laundry and wiped down the counter tops while he washed the dishes and took out the garbage.
I’m one of those weird people who actually likes doing laundry. There was just something satisfying about taking the warm bundles out of the dryer and folding everything into neat piles.
As I sniffed the clean clothes, I realized the fresh smell reminded me of Travis. The scent of the laundry detergent wafted from the fabric, but so did something else. Something that was distinctly him.
Could I be any creepier?
I’d been reduced to sniffing the guy’s clothes.
After all the cleaning was done, Travis suggested we watch a movie since the rain hadn’t stopped.
He was sifting through his DVDs when I saw my favorite movie was on TV.
“Fried Green Tomatoes is on!” I said happily.
“Tomatoes, what?” He made a face.
“Fried Green Tomatoes. It’s the best movie of all time,” I said, but he looked skeptical.
“It’s a chick movie, isn’t it?” he accused.
“Technically, yes.”
He dropped all the DVDs and came to sit next to me on the couch. “All right. I’ll give it a chance. For you.” He bopped me on the nose with his index finger then put his arm around me.
Somehow we ended up cuddled in the spooning position, my back to his front, and I was having trouble concentrating because sometimes his hand would brush over my lower stomach, which sent a jolt of lust straight to my core. Travis seemed completely oblivious to the effect he was having on me.
Or maybe he was torturing me on purpose. Was sexual frustration considered a legit form of torture? It definitely should be.
It didn’t take Travis long to be totally into the movie, and towards the end he started getting impatient for answers.
“Who killed Frank Bennett?” he pestered me. “It was Idgie, wasn’t it?”
“I’m not spoiling it for you. You’ll have to watch and see.”
“Are you ticklish?” He propped himself up to look down at me and snaked his hand over my ribs. “I bet I could tickle it out of you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I challenged.
“Oh, I would,” he said as his fingers started to dance along the sides of my stomach.
I laughed and squirmed uncontrollably while yelling incoherent words of protest. At one point I threatened to pee my pants, and he just laughed.
The playful moment suddenly turned serious as our eyes locked and we both noticed the position we’d ended up in. Travis had moved on top of me and our faces were so close our breath mingled. The laughter faded, and we just stared at each other.
His brown hair was messy and the strands fell over his forehead, almost falling into his eyes. I reached up to run my fingers through it, brushing it to the side, but it just flopped back into the same place.
A few seconds went by before he closed the gap between us. Soft, firm lips met mine.
I hadn’t kissed a lot of guys, but my lack of vast experience didn’t stop me from realizing Travis was a really good kisser.
As he nipped at my lips, I opened my mouth to invite him in. His tongue slowly brushed mine and he repeated the action over and over again. This wasn’t frenzied like before.
It was painfully, wonderfully slow. We delved deeply into each other, enjoying every sensation, every taste.
Every now and then he would pull back to suck my bottom lip, then I would do the same to him. My hands curled into his shirt and I pulled at him, wanting him closer.
Wetness pooled between my thighs and I started to shift uncomfortably beneath him, trying to get the friction I needed. I was so turned on it was almost painful.
The room was dark except for the light flickering from the TV. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the movie was long over and forgotten.
Travis broke our connection as he lifted his head and put enough space between us to look at me. Breathing hard, I begged him with my eyes not to stop.
I’d noticed he had been pulling back every time things started to get too heated, making sure we didn’t go too far. I wasn’t sure if it was his virtue or mine he was trying to protect, but it was becoming very frustrating.
Just as I thought he was going to say we should stop, he flipped us so he was lying on his back and I was straddling him. I moaned when his rigid length pressed against my throbbing center.
Travis seemed to know what I needed as he put his hands on my hips and pulled me forward slightly, dragging my core over his hardness. My mouth fell open and I gasped.
“Move,” he whispered, nodding his head encouragingly.
I started rocking back and forth over him, reveling in the perfect pressure it put on my clit.
“Come here,” Travis said as he pulled my face down to his.
I continued to move my hips over him as our lips and tongues moved together. He seemed to be enjoying it just as much as I was, and he started to thrust forward to match my movements.
His hands came up to cup my breasts over my shirt and he lightly ran his thumbs back and forth over my painfully hard nipples.
I moaned and rocked faster, being driven by need, and the rhythm of our kissing faltered.
My body had taken over and I could feel a familiar tightening in my belly and tension building between my thighs.
I’d had an orgasm before. By myself, of course.
Never like this. It never occurred to me this could be done with all our clothes on.
Burying my face in Travis’s shoulder, I cried out as I came harder than I ever had before. I actually think I might have blacked out for a second.
Travis’s hips jerked forward one last time and he groaned. We stayed that way for several minutes, panting and holding onto each other.
Well, he held onto me, and I just lay on top of him in a boneless heap.
Holyfuckingshit.
I came in my pants.
Like a fucking teenager.
I didn’t expect that to happen. I’d wanted to let Angel use my body for her own gratification, but my good intentions went to shit when she started grinding herself on my dick.
And when she started making all those sexy sounds, it took everything I had not to explode right then and there. I wasn’t even sure if she was aware of the whimpers and moans coming out of her mouth, but it drove me crazy. Then I felt her stiff nipples through her shirt and realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.
When she came apart on top of me, I just lost it.
I couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it because it’d been the best orgasm of my life. It made me wonder if it was this good over our clothes, what would it be like to experience the real thing?
The Good Guys Box Set: TRUCKER, DANCER, DROPOUT, and A Trucker Wedding Page 10