by Jewel E. Ann
“Oh.” He chuckled while throwing his leg over the seat. “I have no doubt that you’re a special kind of freak of nature. Get on.”
I was the one grumbling by that point as I climbed onto the back of his bike.
By the time we got home, I was still fuming.
“I’m going to bed … I have a tummy ache.” I tossed my helmet on the ground along with the riding jacket and marched my way to the basement door. After kicking my shoes off, I ran up the stairs and locked the door at the top. We were done.
Chapter Sixteen
Fisher: I’m sorry.
Fisher: Are you going to stay mad at me forever?
Fisher: I’ll call my family and tell them it was a lie. That I just wanted to be alone with you.
I rolled my eyes at the last text. He wasn’t going to tell his Angie-loving family that he wanted to be alone with me.
My phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it, knowing it was him. But when I spared a quick glance at the screen, I realized it wasn’t him. It was Christina, my only friend from public school who kept in touch with me.
“Heyyy!”
“Hey, Reese! What’s up with you? It’s been forever.”
“I know. It has. Where are you? Last I heard you’d moved to South Carolina.”
“We did, but my sister’s getting married in a week, so I’m staying with her to help her survive the chaos.”
“Amelia’s getting married? Wow!”
“Yes. And she’s getting married in Colorado Springs. And I heard you’re in Denver. I’m in Denver for the weekend. We have to get together.”
“Yeah, I’d love that. I have no plans … well …” I thought about Arnie’s concert.
“If you’re going to say you have plans with a guy, that’s cool. My boyfriend’s with me. We should all go out.”
“It’s … um … actually, I was invited to a concert tomorrow night. Local band. I know the lead singer. His brother is my landlord and my boss.”
“Oh … that sounds perfect. Where? When?”
“I’m not sure yet. Can I text you the info in the morning?”
“Absolutely. Gah! I can’t wait to see you!”
“Me too. I’m so glad you called. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Sounds great. Bye.”
I pressed End and groaned because I didn’t have Arnie’s number. I didn’t know the time or location of the concert. After a quick internet search for “Arnie Mann band in Denver,” I found everything I needed and quickly texted Christina before going to bed early and praying the naked fisherman stayed out of my dreams.
The next morning, I dressed and headed out for a walk. Fisher’s truck was gone. It didn’t surprise me. Hailey told me it wasn’t unusual for him to work on Saturdays.
After my walk and breakfast, I grabbed my crossword puzzle sketch pad and sat on the screened-in porch. After an hour or so, the roar of an approaching lawnmower grew louder. I looked up to shirtless Fisher mowing the lawn. He didn’t see me at first. And I liked that. Even if I wasn’t sure I liked him anymore, I liked things about him.
His body.
The concentrated look on his scruffy face when he was focused on a task, especially if it involved tools.
In the middle of me contemplating the things I did like about him, Fisher glanced up and our gazes met. He paused for a moment then continued mowing.
Weed eating.
And he finished the afternoon by pulling weeds on his hands and knees in the landscaping. I slipped inside and filled a tall glass with ice water and took it out to him.
“You should hydrate. You’re pretty sweaty.” I stood beside him and held out the glass.
Fisher lifted onto his knees and sat back on his heels, sweat and dirt covering his naked chest and back. “Thank you.” He pulled off his work gloves and took the glass from me. In one breath, he guzzled the whole thing and sighed while handing it back to me.
“I … uh … I forgive you. I just wasn’t ready to say it last night when you messaged me.”
He wiped his arm over his forehead. “I figured.”
“My friend called me last night. She’s in Denver for the weekend with her boyfriend. Her sister’s getting married in Colorado Springs next weekend. Anyway … she wanted to get together, so I suggested Arnie’s concert. Do you think he can get us two extra seats?”
“I didn’t figure you’d want to go.”
“I didn’t. But I want to see my friend, and she’s really excited about it, so …”
Squinting against the sun, he nodded. “I’m sure Arnie can make it happen.”
“Are you taking … a date?”
Fisher glanced away and shook his head while offering a little chuckle. “You mean, am I taking Angie?”
I nodded, tapping my fingernails on the glass and doing my weird rolling back and forth on my heels thing.
“Arnie invited her. It’s virtually impossible for me to not take her at this point.”
I lifted my shoulders. “It’s fine. I was just asking. Should I uh … drive? Or are we all going together?”
“She messaged me last night. She’ll pick us up at six. I said I needed to verify that you were going, but now that you are … I’ll let her know.”
“You’re not driving?”
He shook his head. “I have a work truck and a motorcycle. You’ve seen all the shit in my truck, and I don’t think all of us can fit on my motorcycle.”
“Yeah. Of course. Well …” I took a few steps backward. “I’ll be ready at six.”
As soon as I stepped into the house, I rifled through my clothes and found nothing … nothing to wear on a date. Or double date … triple date? I didn’t know. But I knew Christina would be dressed in something trendy and on point. I hadn’t met Angie, but I had to anticipate someone from California bringing her own brand of style.
“You suck,” I berated myself … my wardrobe. In the next beat, I was out the door with my purse and car keys.
Buzzing past Fisher, I hopped into the Outback and sped down the street in mad search of something to wear. Just under two hours later, I returned with a new outfit, shoes, and a smaller handbag.
With under an hour to get ready, I shaved everything … and I hadn’t shaved everything ever. Then I slathered lotion on all my shaved areas, dried my hair, curled it, and applied makeup the way my mom used to apply makeup.
Smoky eyes.
A bit of pink high on my cheekbones.
And red lips.
I made a final inspection in the mirror as I stuffed the essentials into my new clutch. My dad had to be turning over in his grave. And God? I could only imagine.
White shorts that barely … just barely covered my backside making my legs look even longer. A floral, sleeveless spaghetti strap top. And nineties inspired platform shoes with straps around my ankles.
After a quick glance at my watch, I made my way up front. There was no car in the driveway aside from Fisher’s truck, so I stood under his covered porch and waited, clutching my purse in both hands.
“She’s running a few minutes late. You can wait inside.”
I turned toward Fisher’s voice.
Well, dang …
He was freshly showered with dark jeans that looked fairly new, gray leather sneakers with thick white soles, and a faded gray tee that molded to his chest and shoulders. His biceps looked twice as big, and the veins in his arms did weird things to me. Veins weren’t supposed to be sexy.
“O-okay …” I gulped.
He eyed my legs for a long moment before meeting my gaze as I walked toward the door. “I have a feeling someone will get beat up or arrested tonight.”
“Why would you say that?” I stopped just inside his front door.
“Because you’re eighteen going on thirty.”
“Don’t talk like a parent, Fisher.”
He shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his sexy arms over his even sexier chest. “Fine. Every guy that sees you is going to get a har
d-on. And I promised Rory I’d keep an eye on you.”
“I’m sure Angie doesn’t want you keeping an eye on me.”
He narrowed his eyes at my chest, ignoring my Angie comment. “For fuck’s sake … are you wearing a bra?”
I glanced down. “No. I can’t wear one with this top.”
“Then go change tops and put on a bra.”
“Again … too much parental talk. I don’t need you to dress me.”
“And I don’t need my horny brother seeing your nipples.”
Glancing down again, I shook my head. “It’s a dark shirt. You can’t see them.”
“I can see their outline … I can see they are erect.”
I slowly ran the pads of my fingers over them to push my nipples in so he couldn’t see them anymore.
“Just … fucking stop …” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I pushed them in.”
“Jesus … you’re a walking wet dream. Just stop touching yourself.” He adjusted himself in his jeans.
And just like that, my nipples popped out again. It took him all of two seconds to notice.
“I’m going to kill Rory for leaving you with me.” He took a step forward and grabbed the back of my hair, clenching it in his hand and forcing my head to the side as he sucked and licked my neck.
“F-Fisher …” I clawed his biceps to steady myself. He wasn’t kissing my red lips and smearing my lipstick. I gave him a little credit for that, but he still seemed to be teetering on the verge of control as his other hand slid up the front of my shirt.
I gasped when his rough hand palmed my bare breast. He groaned, his thumb circling my nipple.
“Oh my God—gosh …” I stumbled over using the Lord’s name in vain.
His hand moved to my other breast, giving it the same torturous treatment.
“We … should …” I couldn’t catch my breath to complete a sentence. I thought we should stop, but my words never got that far.
He whipped me around so my back hit the door, releasing my hair before lifting me up, guiding my legs around his waist with one hand while shoving my shirt up to my neck with his other hand.
“Ah! Oh … oh … god!” I lost all ability to censor my words when he covered my breast with his mouth, sucking and biting it relentlessly.
Then … the doorbell rang.
I froze. Fisher rested his forehead between my bared breasts, breathing a little harder than usual. His hands dropped to my legs, but he didn’t unpin me from the door.
“Fuck …”
The doorbell rang again.
He eased me to my feet, my shirt dropping back into place. I gazed up at him in shock. What just happened?
“Just a sec,” he said loud enough for Angie (I assumed) to hear him and stop ringing the doorbell. He seemed … frustrated?
“I-I’m … going to go put on a bra and a different shirt,” I said softly. I needed to change into dry panties as well, but I didn’t think he needed to know that.
Fisher said nothing, but he bit his lips together and nodded slowly. He also didn’t give me much space, so I had to awkwardly squeeze past him, retrieve my clutch from the floor, and run to the basement door.
After I put on a bra and a boring tank top, I ran back up the stairs then paused. I wondered if it would seem weird … me exiting on the main floor? So I made a big production to go around the side of the house.
A woman with curly jet-black hair to her shoulders and a well-defined body turned toward me and smiled. She wasn’t as tall as me, but she had more in all the other departments. If I won the battle a few minutes earlier, I was sure to lose the war with Angie back in town.
“Angie, this is Reese Capshaw. Reese, this is Angie Flynn.”
“So nice to meet you. Cute top.” She nodded to my Life is Good top with a huge sunflower on the front of it.
Cute. I was cute.
She was killing it in a red dress and heels.
Trying to not completely deflate, I rummaged through my emotions for a friendly expression and nailed it to my face. “Thanks. Nice to meet you too. Fisher’s family had so many amazing things to say about you.”
Fisher eyed me from a few feet behind her, eyes a little squinted as if he wasn’t happy with me for saying that.
Angie twisted her body to look at him. “Aw … your family is the best. They really feel like my family after all these years.”
Fisher lifted his eyebrows, lips curled into a reluctant smile as he gave her a nod.
“Well, let’s go. You can drive, babe.” She tossed Fisher her keys. “I don’t know where we’re going.”
Babe …
I slithered into the back seat behind Fisher’s seat as Angie climbed into the passenger’s seat of the white, compact SUV.
“Are you in college, Reese?” Angie asked before we pulled out of the driveway.
Yay … this line of questioning.
“Nope. Just working for Fisher this summer.” I didn’t have the energy to make myself sound any more promising like, “I’m taking a gap year,” which insinuated I’d be starting college, only a year later.
Angie won. Rory would be home in less than a week. There was no need to try.
“Fisher is the most talented human I have ever met. He’s always been good at everything. Such a natural. But what’s it like to work for him?” She reached over and squeezed his leg, his upper thigh.
I glanced up in the rearview mirror and caught his gaze on me. Totally unreadable.
“Fisher’s an okay boss.” I glanced out my window.
Angie laughed, moving her hand from his leg to the nape of his neck. “I can see that about you. I bet it’s your intensity. Such a perfectionist, huh, Fish?”
He didn’t respond. I felt sure he had some expression to give her, but I didn’t want to see it.
Babe … Fish …
Lucky for me, Angie shifted the conversation to her mom and that gobbled up the rest of the drive to the venue—where I couldn’t get out of the SUV quick enough. Lucky for me, Christina and her boyfriend were waiting at the door. I ran to her, anything to get away from the fated love birds.
“Eek! Reese!” She gave me a huge hug.
“It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you so freaking much.” I released her and glanced at the handsome guy with the richest dark brown skin and black hair I had ever seen.
“Reese, this is Jamison. Jamison this is my BFF since … gah … forever. She left me for church school, and I’ve never forgiven her.” Christina winked.
I wondered if she had told Jamison about the fate of my parents and why I was forced to leave her for “church school.”
Sensing someone right at my back, I turned. “Oh …” I gave Fisher a tiny smile, but there was no way I was looking at Angie. “Hey, this is my friend Christina and her boyfriend Jamison. Guys, this is my boss, Fisher and …” What? His girlfriend? “Angie.”
“Nice to meet you,” they all seemed to chime at once.
“So … where’s your rock star boyfriend?” Christina nudged me.
“Fish, you didn’t tell me Arnie and Reese were a thing,” Angie wrapped her arm around Fisher’s arm and gave him a pouty face.
I wanted to vomit.
“He just met her yesterday and invited her and us to his show. I’m not sure that qualifies as ‘together.’” He brushed past us to the box office and claimed our tickets.
“But you can and should tell everyone he’s your boyfriend.” My BFF winked at me while taking Jamison’s hand and following Fisher and Angie into the venue.
It wasn’t a big venue, more of a dive bar with a stage. I was surprised tickets were required at all. But there was a table right by the stage reserved for us.
Christina didn’t even take a seat; she sat on Jamison’s lap while Angie pulled her chair so close to Fisher’s chair she might as well have perched onto his lap. I sat off to the side, by myself.
“Can I get everyone drinks?” the waitress asked.
> Angie ordered a martini. Fisher got a beer. Jamison ordered beer too and had to show an ID. Then Christina ordered a glass of wine and sure enough … she had an ID too.
“And for you?” the waitress looked at me.
“Water. Thanks.”
“I can go to the bar in a sec and get you something,” Christina whispered in my ear. “I can’t believe you don’t have a fake ID.”
“I’m good.” I gave her a tight smile. “Really.”
Fisher eyed me every two seconds, and I knew this because my gaze kept drifting to him as well.
Shortly after our drinks were served, the band came onto the stage while the bar erupted into loud clapping, hooting, and even a few screamers behind us.
“Whoa … you are so getting some of that tonight,” Christina said loud enough for Fisher and everyone else to hear. “He’s hot, Reese.”
Jamison poked her in the side and gave her an eye roll. Angie laughed. I shifted my gaze to Arnie, and Christina was right … he was hot under the lights. Tattoos. That wild, blond tipped hair. And a guitar hugging his body.
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it from my handbag.
Fisher: You are NOT getting any of that tonight.
When I glanced up, his head was still bowed to his phone.
Reese: Sure thing, BABE! (eye roll emoji)
He lifted his face from his phone and frowned at me. I turned my attention to the stage.
After the final song, Arnie took off his shirt and tossed it to me. I grinned as the women in the venue went crazy, including Christina, despite her boyfriend right next to her. Arnie nodded for us to make our way backstage.
Christina and Jamison headed through the gated off area along with Angie while Fisher stayed back as if he was simply letting everyone else go first.
Except me.
He slid his finger though the belt loop at the back of my shorts to stop me. Then he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Tell Arnie to do his own fucking laundry.”
I barked a laugh and shook my head, glancing back at him. He grinned and gave me a quick wink, making me want to turn around and throw my arms around him. I wanted to pretend it was just us at the concert, and we were going out with Arnie and some other woman Arnie had invited along with my friends.