by Jewel E. Ann
“So the club was fun?”
She nodded. “Yes. One of our favorites was playing.”
“And Tiffany and Fisher … did they hit it off?”
“Yeah, I think so. They have a lot in common. They chatted it up during the breaks and at the bar we went to after the jazz club. She’s definitely interested in him, but I haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet. I’d like to see him find someone. I know he has the eternal heart of a bachelor, but Fisher deserves more.”
I wanted to be that more.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I didn’t see Fisher the rest of Saturday because Rory took me shopping, then we had lunch. We ended the day at her salon where she gave me a haircut, even though it was her day off, and we both got manicures and pedicures.
It was a good day, one that started with me in Fisher’s arms and his hand on my butt.
Sunday morning, I showered and slipped on a striped romper and my Birkenstocks for church.
“Coffee?” Rory asked from her corner of the sofa, robe on, hair pulled into a low ponytail.
“I’m good. They have coffee and a buffet of baked goods at church. You know, you could go with me.”
“Mmm …” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure I’m church material anymore.”
I giggled, slipping a few items into my smaller purse. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as church material. All are welcomed in the Lord’s house.”
“When I think of the Lord’s house, I think of Heaven, not a lackluster building with a gymnasium, fitness center, coffee and donuts. Really … they used to build churches—cathedrals—to make you feel like God himself resided in the building, his spirit woven around the intricate wooden carvings, flying buttresses, and stunning stained glass works of art. Sorry … I don’t think the Lord’s house has a basketball hoop … and I love basketball.”
“Fair.” I laughed. “I’ll see you later. I’m not sure when. I told Brendon we could go out for lunch again after church.”
A date. I basically committed myself to another date. But if Fisher could go out and enjoy his time with half-waxed Tiffany, then I could break bread with Brendon after Sunday service.
“You need my keys?” Rory asked as I opened the door.
I forgot to mention that Brendon was also my ride to church since I didn’t have a car yet, and I didn’t want to take Rory’s car with her back in town.
“Brendon’s picking me up.”
Rory’s smile doubled. “That’s … good. Yeah?” She latched onto that like a dog on a rabbit.
“A ride? I suppose it is. I’m still working out some things with Grandma and Grandpa on the money for my car.”
It was a flat “no” when I called them last week. They said “yes” to the Accord or the Forester.
“You know what I mean.” Rory shook her head.
“Byeee …” I closed the door and headed up front.
The two men in my world, if I could call them that, arrived at the same time. Brendon pulled into the driveway just as shirtless Fisher finished his morning jog. One of them nearly gave me an orgasm.
“Brandon,” Fisher said as my church date rolled down his window.
“Hi, it’s uh … Brendon,” Brendon corrected him.
Fisher knew his name, and the grin he gave me when his back was to Brendon’s window said as much.
“Reese.” Fisher stripped me with one look. I think he also took the rest of my virginity with that same look.
I needed to check on the specifics of getting re-baptized.
Clearing my throat and forcing my gaze to stay on his face instead of his sweat covered chest, I smiled, “Morning, Fisher.”
“You going to confession?” he asked.
“It’s a Christian church. We don’t have confession.”
“Mmm …” He winked before heading into the garage. “A shame.”
Brendon smiled as I climbed into his car. “You look nice.”
“Thanks, you do too.”
He laughed like my reciprocating the compliment wasn’t necessary.
“Thanks for picking me up. I’m having trouble deciding on a car.”
“Oh?” Brendon backed out of Fisher’s driveway.
“Yeah, well … it’s that my grandparents don’t want to give me the money for the car I want, even though it’s my money.”
“What car do you want?”
I stared out the window to my right and shrugged like it was no big deal. “It’s a used Porsche Cayenne.”
“A Porsche?” Brendon choked on his words.
“I want something sporty that can go into the mountains.”
“Reese, I think you can find something a little more practical. After all, you’re eighteen. Don’t blow through your money before you get a chance to make some decisions on your future like going to college. Maybe you’ll want a down payment on a house. Maybe you could invest some of the money.”
Why did he have to sound so sensible—so parental—too?
During the church service, Brendon shared his Bible with me since I forgot mine. At least I got points for forgetting it because it was by my bed because I’d been reading it—all the parts on sins of the flesh.
In Sunday school, we played games, more like twenty questions to test our morals. I did quite well, just because I’d sinned didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of my sins. Some of the other people in class were legitimately clueless. That meant they were ripe for accepting their opportunity at salvation.
“You choose the lunch spot today,” Brendon said as we made our mad dash to the parking lot again to beat the after-church crowd. This time he parked where he couldn’t get trapped.
“It’s hot today. Let’s do something light like a big salad.”
“So … ice cream for lunch?” Brendon shot me a conspiratorial grin over the top of his car just before I lowered into the seat.
“I knew I liked you.” I returned the same grin.
We stopped at an ice cream shop for sundaes and spent over two hours there talking about … everything. It was easy and refreshing.
“I talked with my boss … well, bosses at the law firm. After I take the bar, I’m going to go on a mission trip for six months. I told them I understood if they can’t hold my position, but they were really great. They said I’d have a job waiting when I returned.”
“Wow …” I sipped my second glass of water as Brendon fiddled with his spoon and empty sundae bowl. “A mission trip. Where to?”
“Thailand.”
“That’s …” I shook my head. “Great?” I laughed at my own response. “Brave? I don’t know.”
“Exciting with a dash of scary.” Brendon grinned. “I’ve done small trips to places in Central America, just through my church. But this one is through a bigger organization. It’s a bucket list thing for me. I want to feel like my life is useful beyond settling disputes among people wealthy enough to hire an attorney from a big law firm. I just …” He focused on his spoon for a few seconds. “I just want to stay grounded in my purpose. I want to always feel like I’m taking opportunities to really serve and do God’s work. You know?”
I did. And I didn’t.
Truth?
I envied Brendon’s direction in life. He was focused and driven. He wasn’t lost in his journey or stalled along the side of the road like me. I felt certain he didn’t stay awake at night worrying if the object of his affection was holding hands with someone else or kissing them.
My priorities were shameful.
“You know …” he continued. “It might be something for you to consider too. If you’re not going to college right away, and you don’t really know what direction you want to go, it might be a good way to get a direction. Focus. Perspective. And if it doesn’t give you any of that, you’ll still have done something great. Made a difference.”
Brendon would be a good attorney. He had mad skills at making a good case for things.
“Well…” I frowned “…now I feel like
a loser.”
He laughed and shook his head. “No. Don’t feel like that. Not at all. You’re eighteen. You have your whole life to work, volunteer, make a difference. There’s nothing wrong with just being young and a little lost.”
“Pfft …” I rolled my eyes. “Says the guy who, I’m sure, was going on mission trips at my age.”
With a sheepish grin, he shrugged. “Only because I legit had no life beyond that. Now who’s the loser?”
I sighed. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Just … think about it. I’m not saying you have to go to Thailand with me, but I’m not saying it would be a bad thing either.” Brendon relinquished a very endearing and maybe even convincing smile.
“I guess I’d feel silly getting an expensive car if I were planning on leaving for six months.”
“Practicality wins.” He winked.
As handsome and flirty as Brendon was, I didn’t care for his winks. Only one man could wink at me and make my insides turn to gooey mush.
“Well, I’ll take you home. How would you feel about going out some night this week?”
“Um …”
He held up his hands. “No pressure.”
“No. I … it … well, you have my number. I guess text me.”
Brendon lit up with satisfaction, a glow of victory. “I’ll do that.”
He drove me home and pulled in the driveway. Fisher and my mom were on the front porch drinking iced tea … or maybe beer. I couldn’t tell for sure.
“We have an audience,” Brendon said.
“Yeah. We do.”
“I guess that means I’ll have to wait to kiss you another time.”
Gulp …
On a nervous laugh, I nodded. “I guess so. Well, thanks for the ice cream. It was fun.” I opened the door.
“Wait! I messed up when I picked you up. I’m not going to screw this up in front of your mom.” Brendon jumped out and ran around the car to open my door.
“Oh.” Another nervous laugh. “Thanks.” I climbed out of his car.
“Reese, introduce me,” Rory called.
Brendon took my hand.
He took my hand!
And we walked to the front porch. A kiss was more than he wanted to do in front of an audience, but he thought hand-holding was okay?
I died a million deaths.
After warning Fisher about Tiffany, after losing hours of sleep from thoughts of kissing or hand-holding, my hand was latched to Brendon’s right in front of Fisher.
“Hi, you must be Rory. I’m Brendon. So nice to meet you.” Brendon released my hand to shake Rory’s hand.
Fisher slowly sipped his drink, his eyes saying everything as he focused on my hand that had just been attached to Brendon’s.
“The pleasure is all mine,” Rory gushed. “Reese told me so much about you.”
I did?
I mentioned him and maybe a few things about him, but I didn’t go on and on about him. Too late. Brendon glanced at me, a huge smile on his face. I returned more of a tight grin. What could I say?
“Well, I think Reese is pretty great. We have so much in common. And it’s easy to talk for hours.”
Rory eyed me. Either she was ready to plan my wedding or she wanted to date Brendon herself. I feared it was the former.
“I’m going to take off. Nice to meet you, Rory. And good to see you again, Fisher.”
Fisher returned a slow nod, no smile.
Brendon grabbed my hand again and gave it a quick squeeze, but something crossed his face, like he was contemplating something. Before I could stop it, he leaned in (IN FRONT OF THEM) and kissed my cheek.
I felt like an adulterer.
“Aw …” Rory rested her hand on Fisher’s arm like, “Look at your sister. She’s found a nice boy.”
“Bye,” I whispered past the painful lump in my throat. After Brendon pulled out of the driveway, I forced my gaze back to Rory and Fisher.
“He seems perfect, Reese.” Rory beamed.
“He’s nice.” I couldn’t hold my gaze to Fisher’s, so I stared at my feet, kicking at a few landscaping rocks that were on the paving stones.
“Well, I’m going to run to the store and grab some groceries for the week. Do you want to come with me?”
“Um … would it be okay if I didn’t go? I feel like I’ve been gone all day.”
“No problem. Anything special you want me to get for you?”
“Whatever you get is fine.” I risked a glance at Fisher.
He had the most unreadable expression.
“Okay. Thanks for the tea, Fisher.”
“Yup,” Fisher said in a monotone voice.
I waited for her to go into the house to presumably put her glass in his kitchen and get her purse. Sitting in her chair, I waited for him to say something.
He didn’t.
A few minutes later, Rory came back out the front door with her purse over her shoulder. “Text me if you think of anything you do want me to get for you.”
“Okay,” I murmured.
We watched her get into her Outback and drive down the street.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was going to—”
“For god’s sake, Reese.” He stood, making his way to the front door. “Don’t do this. Don’t apologize for finding an age-appropriate guy.”
I jumped to my feet and followed him. “I didn’t find an age-appropriate guy. We’re just friends.”
“Didn’t look like that.” He put his empty glass in the dishwasher.
“Well, he’s mistaken. And I’ll let him know that when I see him again.”
Fisher turned, eyes narrowed, hands sliding into his back pockets. “Rory likes him.”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Then she can date him.”
He grunted. “I don’t think he’s her type.”
“Well, he’s not my type.”
“No?”
I shook my head.
“He should be.”
“Are you …” I sauntered toward him. “Are you jealous?”
“I’m not fucking jealous of Bible Boy.” He glanced down at me, hands still planted in his back pockets.
I frowned. “Be nice.”
“What if I don’t want to be nice?”
“Then tie me up and bite my ass, but don’t take it out on Brendon.”
It thrilled me that Fisher didn’t want to smile, but he couldn’t help it. “Did you just say ass?”
“It’s a donkey.”
“So you want me to tie you up then bite your donkey?”
“I thought you wanted to tie me up?” I wasn’t sure how to back my way out of the donkey comment.
“I’m open to the idea.”
Gah!
What did that mean? I would have handed over my entire inheritance for the chance to read Fisher Mann’s mind.
I tipped my chin up. “Maybe I am too.”
I wasn’t. Not at all.
First … I had some claustrophobia issues.
Second … I didn’t trust him with my body if I couldn’t control my limbs.
And third … back to the claustrophobia issues. That was a big one for me.
But I sure liked acting brave with Fisher. It was the most exhilarating feeling. Some people bungee jumped or jumped out of planes with parachutes on their backs. My adrenaline rush came from my cat and mouse game with Fisher.
“I have some work to do in my woodshop.” He removed his hands from his pockets and brushed past me to the back door.
“Will you teach me something?”
Stopping, he glanced over his shoulder. “If you can listen without distracting me.”
“How would I distract you?”
He nodded to my outfit. “Go change your clothes. I don’t want to see your bare legs. And you need a thicker bra. I can’t teach you shit when your nipples are popped out like that. And wear your work boots.”
Biting my lips to hide my grin. I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
&nbs
p; Chapter Twenty-Four
Fisher taught me how to measure and cut. Glue and screw. Properly use a hammer and level.
An hour later, Rory found us. “There you are. I was looking for you.”
I turned away from Fisher’s workbench, my safety glasses a little foggy. “He’s teaching me things, so I’ll be more useful.”
Fisher stayed focused on piecing together the drawer he’d just made. “I don’t know about useful, but a smidge less useless.”
Rory laughed. “Well, I was thinking about inviting Rose over to grill out. Fisher, do you have plans? Tiffany might come too.”
“No plans,” Fisher mumbled, ultra-focused on the joint he just glued.
I wanted to knee him in the balls. No plans? Another date?
“Reese, do you prefer chicken or steak? Or I have tofu. Rose doesn’t eat meat.”
As my gaze bored a hole in his temple, I murmured, “Doesn’t matter.”
“Okay. Does an hour give you enough time to finish up?”
Fisher didn’t give her a verbal answer, just a tiny nod.
“Cool. I’ll let you know when they’re here.”
After Rory’s feet tapped tapped tapped their way to the top of the stairs and the door clicked shut behind her, I rammed the toe of my work boot into Fisher’s shin.
“Ouch! The fuck?” He reached down and rubbed his shin.
“Another date with Tiffany? Are you kidding me?”
He seemed too aggravated over his shin and me interrupting his work to spare the slightest glint of regret. “What did you expect me to say?”
“I expected you to say you had plans.”
“But I don’t. And you’re going to be here too. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is she likes you. A lot!”
“Like Brendon likes you a lot?” He shot me a scowl.
“I’m not inviting him to dinner.” I parked my fists on my hips.
“Well, maybe you should. Sounds like Rory has lots of food, and the more the merrier. Right?”
“Now you’re being a jerk. Such a jerk.”
Standing erect, he pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the workbench. “Oh really. I’m being the jerk? What about you?”
“You should have lied.” That was my answer. Church schooled, Bible study, virgin me advocating lying. It was a new low.