Take Me To The Beach
Page 16
Bubbles encase my body as I slip into the warm, sudsy water. Gripping my waist, Rhett situates me between his legs. Pooling water in his hands, he lets it fall over my shoulders and down my back, and then those amazing hands follow the same path.
His fingers work their way over my muscles at a slow, methodic pace.
“Oh, God,” I moan, dropping my chin to my chest. “That feels so good.”
Sliding the palms of his hands up my spine, he curls his fingers over my shoulders, kneading them over and over, working out all the knots before moving his way down my back.
“I feel like I should be massaging your shoulder, not the other way around.”
“My shoulder is good, Mo, getting better every day. Let me take care of you right now.”
How can I say no to that?
“We need to talk about Animal Haven,” he says after a moment.
“What about it?” I ask, wincing as he works his hands along my lower back.
“Does that hurt?”
“Just a little.” I wince again, and he stops.
“What happened?”
“I had to haul bags of shavings to the barn for that horse I got in today. Think maybe I pulled something.”
“Why didn’t you have me do it?”
“You weren’t there yet, and it needed to be done. Plus, I won’t chance you reinjuring your shoulder. It’s not a big deal.”
He sighs. “It is a big deal. Who helps you out when you have big loads like that?”
“Usually it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“And if it is?”
“I call Coop or Sean.”
“Not anymore. Now you call me. Got it?”
“I’ll do whatever you say as long you promise to keep massaging.” I roll my head to the side. Rhett moves his hands to knead the area I just opened up.
“Mo, you really need to get some extra help at Animal Haven. I don’t know how you’ve managed all these years by yourself—”
“I haven’t been completely by myself. I have volunteers.”
“No,” he corrects. “You have Claire and Tess.”
“I have a couple more, but they’ve been busy lately and haven’t been able to help out as much.”
“That’s a start, Mo, but you need someone more regularly. I hate to think about you out there doing all that shit on your own when I go back to Houston.”
My heart stops, along with my breathing. It’s the first time either one us of has mentioned Houston. What’s going to happen to us when he leaves? What happens to me?
Swallowing, I blink back tears, grateful I’m facing away from him. “I, uh…I can’t afford to hire anyone. All the money we make from donations and adoptions goes straight back into the business. I don’t keep a dime for myself.”
His hands pause for a second on my shoulders, then pick back up again. “How do you pay the bills?”
“I just told you; all the money goes back into the business.”
“I mean at home. How do you pay the bills at home?”
“The house is paid off; so is my truck. Dad gets Social Security, and we have the money he made from selling Ruff Times, along with what he draws from his retirement. I also make a decent amount in tips on the weekends. Why all the questions?”
“I just worry about you, that’s all.”
I rest my head against his shoulder, melting into him as he wraps his arms around me. We sit like this until the suds start to fade and the water cools. I’m not ready to leave our little cocoon, so I pull the plug, drain some of the cool water, and refill the tub with hot so I can relax back into Rhett’s arms.
“Have you ever thought about going back to school?” he asks, his voice echoing off the walls.
That’s a tough question to answer. “I gave up on that a long time ago. The money isn’t there, and I’ve grown to love Animal Haven.”
“What if the money was there? Would you go back?”
“They probably wouldn’t let me into the program since I gave up my seat.”
“Christ, Mo, this is a what-if situation. Play along, would ya?”
“Fine. Yes, if I didn’t have Animal Haven and the money was there, I would go back to school. Happy?”
“Yes.” He kisses the side of my head. “Sorry for pushing you; I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy, Rhett,” I say, turning in his arms. I feel like I’m having the same conversation I just had with my dad, only with Rhett I can be brutally honest. “I haven’t always been, but I’m getting there, and you play a big part in that. Before you, I had nothing to live for. I worked, took care of my father, ate and slept, and on rare occasions, I’d hang out with Claire. I was depressed and lonely. Now I have moments like this to look forward to. Quiet bubble baths, family dinners, someone to share my day with—it’s the small things like that I didn’t realize I was missing.”
Rhett kisses me softly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do when I go back to work.”
“Have you been cleared?”
“Not yet, but it won’t be long. I have an appointment with my orthopedic doctor next Friday. I want you to come with me.”
“Back to Houston? Rhett—”
“I already know what you’re thinking, and I’ve got it figured out. My appointment isn’t until the afternoon. It’s an hour and a half drive. We’ll get up early and take care of the animals, drive to Houston, and go to the appointment. We’ll be able to make it back to Heaven in time for evening chores. And if we have a few minutes to spare, I’d love to show you my house.”
I open my mouth, and Rhett takes it as an invitation to kiss me. “Just think about it,” he whispers against my lips. “Don’t say no; just think about it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” I’ll figure it out this time; I’ll find a way to make it work—possibly even make it an overnight trip—but it’s going to be difficult to do anything like this on a regular basis, and I wonder if that’s something Rhett will be willing to put up with.
“It’s always going to be like this,” I whisper. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
He cups my jaw. “What are you taking about?”
“If I am who you want, you need to understand that you aren’t just choosing me; you’re choosing my father too. We’re a package deal. I will take care of him as long as I’m able, and that’s going to make it difficult to have a normal relationship. I can’t just pick up and go when you travel, or even come see you at home. I need you to think about this before—”
“I don’t need to think about it, Mo. I want this to work.”
He rests his forehead against mine.
“And I know that means you and your father and Animal Haven and Ruby and that damn cat—”
“Pickles.”
He smiles. “That’s the one. But what about you, Mo? What happens when I go back on tour and I’m gone for weeks at a time? Are you going to be okay with that? What if it’s too much and you change your mind about us—about me?”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes before I look up. “That’s not going to happen. I let you get away once, and I won’t make that mistake again. You’ll see.”
He stares at me for a long moment, seeming to absorb my words, and I can’t decide if he’s trying to convince himself I’m telling the truth or trying to stop himself from telling me how he feels.
“Can we make love now?” My hand dips under the water as I run it down his stomach. I curl my fingers around his cock, swirl my thumb around the head, and revel in the way his eyelids droop. “I really want that.”
“You think you can be quiet?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
With an arm around my back and another beneath my legs, he lifts us both out of the tub. I don’t even care that we leave a trail of water as he moves out of the bathroom and drops me on the bed, because all I can think about is how he looks crawling toward me and how his big, stro
ng body feels pressing me into the mattress.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Rhett
I wake as the first rays of sunlight slip through the blinds, making it hard to open my eyes. My body feels rested, the pain in my shoulder not as pronounced as it has been, and I wonder if maybe it has something to do with Mo and her bubble bath, or the full body massage she returned after we made love.
With a lazy smile on my face, I look over to see her asleep next to me. Dark hair fans the pillow beneath her head, a few pieces sticking to my beard when I roll over to get a better look at her. She looks so peaceful with her hands tucked under head, her lips parted as though they’re just waiting for mine.
Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. After I lifted her from the tub, we made love. She lay in my arms for several long minutes afterward, and about the time I was ready to doze off, she rolled me onto my stomach, straddled my hips, and gave me the best damn massage I’ve ever had. Her hands rivaled any masseuse I’ve ever paid for. Or maybe it’s just that it was her.
It was well after two in the morning before we finally pulled the covers over our naked bodies and succumbed to sleep. I lift my head, glancing over Mo to get a look at the alarm clock. Unable to resist her perfect lips, I kiss her gently as I lay my head back on the pillow. She smiles before she opens her eyes, and it’s the sexiest thing the world. Her lashes flutter open as she blinks up at me.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning.” Shifting her body closer to mine, she tangles our legs together.
I nearly sigh in contentment when she lifts a hand, threading her fingers through my hair.
“Why did you wake me up?” she rasps, letting her eyes drift shut.
“I wanted to see those beautiful eyes before I leave. And maybe steal a kiss or two.”
Her eyes pop open. “Why are you leaving?”
Resting my hand over her hip, I squeeze. “I wasn’t sure what time your dad gets up, and I figured you might not want me here when he does.”
Her sleepy eyes watch me. “I want you here.”
If that doesn’t about kill me, I don’t know what will. “You do?”
She yawns. “Always. I don’t want to hide us.”
“I don’t want that either.”
“Good.” She smiles and presses her face in the pillow.
“I’m going to go make breakfast. What does your dad like?”
“No,” she whines, peeking at me with one eye. “Don’t leave. You’re nice and warm.”
“I’m also a growing boy who’s starved.”
She threads my fingers with hers under the covers and draws my hand to her thigh, positioning it between her legs. She’s soaking wet.
“I’ve got something you can eat,” she says in a raspy voice.
“No.” I pull my hand away and kiss her bare shoulder. “First I feed you; then I eat you.”
I hop off the mattress before she can use her seductress ways on me. I pull my jeans on. “You didn’t tell me what your dad likes for breakfast.”
“Don’t worry about him. He usually doesn’t get up until ten, and it’s only—” She cranes her neck to look at the alarm clock. “Five,” she moans, flopping her head back down on the pillow. “Sharon will make him breakfast when she gets here.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Just hurry back; it’s cold in here without you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mo is sitting up in bed waiting for me twenty minutes later when I return with a bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of jellied toast. The sheet is tucked around her, but I can see the outline of her breasts and the tight peaks of her nipples.
“Gimme.” She holds out her hands, taking the bowl and plate.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Milk would be good.”
I head back to the kitchen and pour each of us a glass of milk, taking the time to add chocolate syrup to hers because I remember how much she loves chocolate milk.
“Your milk, madam.”
She takes the glass and looks down at it, her eyes smiling when they find me. “You remembered.”
I can barely understand her words with the food in her mouth, and we both laugh. She covers her mouth and swallows before taking a drink.
“I told you before,” I remind her, “I remember everything.”
“Thank you.” She takes another sip, sets her milk on the nightstand, and digs back into her eggs. “These are delicious. I can’t remember the last time I had scrambled eggs.”
I frown. “What do you normally eat for breakfast?”
She shrugs. “If I eat breakfast, it’s usually a Pop-Tart or a bag of chips in the truck on the way to work. I’m not about to get up earlier just to cook myself a meal.”
I manage to work my fork into the bowl and steal a bite. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You need to take care of yourself, Mo.”
“I know.” She sighs. “I just don’t always have the time.”
“We’re going to work on that.”
“We, huh?”
“Yes.”
Her smile is thoughtful. “I like the sound of that.”
We each take another bite, and then Mo hands me the bowl and grabs her milk. “Will you tell me more about the PBR and your life away from here? I feel like we’re always talking about me.”
My life seems to have shifted quite a bit over the last few weeks—to the point that I hardly remember what it was like before my accident.
“There isn’t much to tell. I wake up, train, and spend time with my buddies. Most of the time I’m on the road, traveling from city to city for events. It’s not very appealing.”
“Do any of your friends have an old lady?”
I lift a brow. “And old lady? What are we, a motorcycle club?”
She laughs. “You know what I mean. Are any of them married?”
“A few are, but most are single. Why?”
“I’m just curious. I feel like nothing in my life has changed and everything in yours has.”
“Does that bother you?” I ask, taking a bite of eggs.
She picks at a piece of toast, eventually tearing off a chunk and putting it in her mouth. I want to say something, get into her head and get her talking, but I decide to wait her out.
“It bothers me that I don’t know anything about you anymore. I used to know everything.”
“What’s my favorite color?”
She rolls her eyes. “Red.”
“My favorite meal?”
“Sirloin, garlic potatoes, and fried okra.”
“What did I do on my eighteenth birthday?”
“You went skydiving.”
“And what happened when I got in the air?”
Monroe snorts with laughter. “You chickened out. Realized you were scared of heights.”
“It’s not funny.” I give her a pointed look.
“It was at the time.”
“I’ve cried twice in my life.”
The smile falls from her face. “I miss your Grandma Allen.”
“I do too,” I reply.
“I also miss Mugsy,” she says, referring to my beloved dog.
I take her hand, running my thumb over her wrist. “You know the important things. You know what makes me smile, what makes me mad. You know my soap boxes—those haven’t changed. You know I’m a stickler for punctuality.”
“It’s a virtue,” she whispers.
“It is a virtue.”
She smiles. Turning her hand over, she links our fingers together, pulling them to rest on her thigh.
“You know how hard I worked to get where I am today. You were with me through all of my amateur rides. I could go on and on, Mo, but it all boils down to the same thing. You know me better than anyone else. Yes, there are things in my life that have changed. There are things you don’t know, but you’ll learn them over time.”
“You’re right. I guess I just wan
t to know other things—like who your best friend is, where you hang out after an event. Who’s there with you, watching out for you when you get on a bull? What do you do on a lazy Sunday when you don’t have to train?”
“Lincoln Bennett. He’s a surly son of a bitch, but you’ll love him, and he’ll think the world of you. The Broken Boot is about the best bar in town. My dad is always with me, and if he can’t make it, I’ve got Linc there to watch out for me. On Sundays, I do what I’ve always done…”
“Watch movies,” we both say.
“See? Not much has changed. I’ve spent the last six years passing time.”
“Passing time, huh? What were you waiting on?”
“Didn’t realize it at the time, but I was waiting on you.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“For what?”
Monroe leans across the bed and kisses me. “For being the guy I fell in love with all those years ago. For giving me a second chance. Should I keep going?”
“You should probably kiss me again.”
“I can do that.”
Monroe
“Honey, I’m home.” I shoulder my way through the front door, only to come to a freezing halt when I look across the living room and see my dad and Sharon sitting at the kitchen table. Dad’s wheelchair is pressed as close to Sharon as it can get. Their joined hands rest on the table and—are they kissing?
It’s a soft kiss, the mere touch of her lips against his, but it’s still a kiss. I didn’t even know my dad could kiss. He can barely smile. Feeling like a third wheel in my home, and unsure what to do—because they clearly didn’t hear me come in—I kick the door shut with enough power to make a loud thud.
Sharon’s head pops up, but my father’s a little slower to react. Her eyes are wide as she slides away from the table, easing her hand out of my father’s.
“Hey, Monroe,” she stammers, wiping her hands down the front of her shirt.
“Y-you’re home early,” Dad says, backing his electric wheelchair away from the table. “It’s S-Saturday. I thought y-you had to b-b-bartend tonight.”
“I do.”
Sharon looks like she’s going to be sick, and my dad is acting as if nothing happened.