by Carmen, Roya
He shakes his head. “No one.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” I still can’t believe it. “You’re hot and charming, and rich, and fuck, when you wear those suits, I just want to jump you. I’m sure the ladies at work—”
He’s smiling when he cuts me off. “Yeah, the ladies are interested, Corrie. But I’m not. It’s just you for me, Corrie. It’s always been just you.”
Now I feel really bad about the underwear. I look away, not able to face him. “Well, I don’t have an STD either,” I reassure him. “So it has to be something else.”
We both sit in silence for a long beat, staring off into the distance.
“Hmmm… maybe jogger’s itch,” I suggest. “Is that a thing?”
“Maybe,” he says. “I’ll Google it.” He grabs his phone with a wince, a hand still rubbing his groin. It is kind of funny, I admit. But I’m filled with guilt.
It’s a few hours later and Jacob is about to lose it. He’s in obvious discomfort. “It’s not jogger’s itch or jock itch,” he says. “It’s red, but no circles. And it came on so rapidly,” he goes on, rubbing at his eyes. “Now it’s in my eye too. My eye is burning.”
Oh crap.
“I’ve Googled for over an hour, and I can’t figure it out,” he says, at a loss. “I think I’ve got some kind of weird disease. I should go to the clinic.”
“No….” I’m quick to say. “No need to overreact.”
“Well, doesn’t hurt to check, does it. Who the hell knows what this is. I could be dying for all I know.”
This has officially gone too far. I can’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say out loud.
“Sorry about what?” he asks, rubbing at his eye.
“I may have…” I falter a bit before forging ahead. “I may have… rubbed your underwear with a Carolina Reaper pepper.”
“What?!”
I wince. “I was just trying to get back at you… for the bear sound thing.” A completely justified prank, in my opinion.
His jaw drops to the floor. “Wait… what? Where did you get a Carolina Reeper?”
I offer him an apologetic smile. “The neighbor gave me one a few days ago. She grows them.”
He shakes his head. “You’re the devil, Corrie,” he says and storms off to the washroom.
Finally, a laugh escapes me. I got him good.
10
“It still burns, by the way,” he says matter-of-factly as he’s cooking us burgers on the barbecue the next day.
I’m setting the table outside. It’s a beautiful night and I’ve convinced him to eat out with me. He agreed as long as he got to cook the burgers. “I’m sorry,” I say for the millionth time.
He glares at me. “You should be.”
I struggle not to laugh. “It was a good one, you have to admit.”
“One of your best,” he agrees. “Now go toss the pasta salad, and get out of my face.”
We’re sitting quietly, enjoying our meal. Abby and Baxter are sitting at our feet, salivating. If I’m being honest, these past few days have been kind of wonderful. I feel more at home here than I do at my condo these days. I wonder if that has everything to do with Jacob being here. I’m so confused. A few days ago, I was so sure I was doing the right thing, walking away from him and letting him find a better life. But now I want him by my side, as irritating as he can be. I’m being selfish. I know it. I know he deserves so much more than I can give him.
Jacob is the first to spot him in the distance. He waves a hand, and I turn to see Alex, looking as delicious as always. I ogle him as he approaches.
“Out for a walk?” Jacob asks, his usual friendly self.
Alex shoots me a quick shy smile “Actually, I was just coming to say hi to you.”
By ‘you’, does he mean both of us, or me. It seems crazy, but for some reason, I’m convinced he means me.
“That was nice of you,” I offer. “Why don’t you sit down. We have an extra burger.”
Jacob glares at me — we both know that extra burger had his name on it. Well, he can just throw another one on the barbecue if he’s that hungry.
Alex scooches into the picnic table, next to Jacob. He seems to take it over, being as large as Jacob. “Are you sure?”
I smile brightly. “Yes… help yourself.”
He reaches for the burger with hungry eyes. “Don’t mind if I do. I’m starved. Haven’t had a chance to make dinner yet.”
Jacob is not impressed.
“So you two are married?” he asks, clearly curious.
“We’re separated actually,” I explain. “We just both ended up here for the week… it was an accident. Long story.”
“I love long stories,” he says, and bites into his burger.
“Well,” I start and catch Jacob rolling his eyes at me. “This place belongs to our friends—”
“James and Beatrice,” Alex says with a mouthful of food. “They’re cool.”
“Anyway,” I go on. “I booked the place for the week to get a little peace and quiet, and next thing you know, Jacob shows up. He booked the place too. But I’m pretty sure Beatrice did it on purpose, trying to play matchmaker and get us back together. She even persuaded Jacob to take a vacation.”
“Priceless,” Alex says. “She does seem like a meddler… but in a good way. She’s always bringing me food and asking me if I have a new girlfriend yet.”
I laugh. “And do you? Have a new girlfriend, I mean?”
Jacob cocks a brow, clearly appalled. I can’t believe I just asked that out loud.
“Nope,” Alex says. “I’m destined to be an eternal bachelor, it seems. I had a relationship… Sandra, but we broke up a year ago.”
I can’t help but sigh.
Alex stays late into the night. I get the sense that he needs someone to talk to. It must get lonely around here, off season. The place is semi-deserted. We drink and laugh a lot, all three of us. He tells us all about Sandra. She sounds lovely; a gifted pianist also studying to be an attorney. He waxes poetic about the dimple on her right cheek when she smiles. He tells us a million cute stories. He’s clearly still madly in love with her.
Before he leaves, he shoots me another one of those bashful grins, the kind of smile that makes me think he might like the looks of me. “So you should check out my Facebook page,” he says. “All my stuff is on there.”
“Will do.”
Alex tips his hat. “Well, I best get going. Thank you for the wonderful meal, guys. You guys are fantastic.”
I’m surprised to see Jacob shake his hand and smile genuinely as they say their goodbyes.
As soon as the door slams shut, I turn to Jacob. “So you like him now? You’re not jealous?”
He laughs. “No, he’s just a poor schmuck. Actually, he and I have a lot in common, still pining for women who won’t have anything to do with us.”
And with those words, he turns and leaves me to head to his bedroom.
I’m tossing and turning, still reeling from the night. I stare up into the darkness, a smile on my face. Finally, when I’ve come to terms with the fact that I won’t be falling asleep anytime soon, I turn on the lamp on the nightstand. I reach for my phone and check my emails… nothing interesting. I browse through my Facebook feed out of pure boredom. Alex’s last words suddenly come back to me, and I search for his page. I scroll down his feed, taking in all the beautiful pieces he’s created. The man is truly talented.
I press on the thumbs up icon, liking his page. It’s the least I can do. I’ve gone deep down the rabbit hole of Facebook — I’m doing one of those quizzes. Which animal is your spirit animal? I’m not sure why I even bother to take the test — my spirit animal is clearly the cat — I’m curious, fussy, aloof, and I love my naps.
A notification pops up — a new friend request. I quickly check to see who could be friending me this late at night, and my heart skips a beat when I see Alex’s name. Alex Miller. Great name. I accept straight aw
ay, giddy. Really, it’s shameful how excited I am.
A few seconds later, I receive a message from him.
Hey Corrie, so great to see you on Facebook. Glad we’re friends. I had a great night tonight!!
I don’t hesitate too long before replying.
Me too. It was fun. I was just checking out your page. Great stuff!! You are really talented.
—
Awww… thank you.
—
Really, I am serious. As soon as I get home, I’m taking the measurements of my dining room. Maybe I could swing by tomorrow to go over the details… select the base and go over the costs.
—
Wow!!! Thank you so much. Yes, for sure. Let’s meet tomorrow. When’s a good time for you?
I mull it over for a second or two.
How about after lunch? One o’clock?
—
Perfect! See you then.
—
See you then.
—
Goodnight, Corrie! Thank you for accepting my friend request. See you tomorrow. :)
—
Goodnight!
I click off messenger with a silly grin on my face. I head straight back to Facebook to stalk his personal page. Lots of photos of him working on his furniture. A few pics of his family. He has a sister who looks a lot like him. He likes beer, the Chicago Blackhawks and shooting pool.
Okay, so maybe he’s not into reading books and strumming on the guitar, writing songs, luxury cars, motorcycles, or travel like Jacob. Not all men can be intellectual nerds with a dash of bad boy. I really need to stop comparing everyone to Jacob. Alex is refreshing. He’s a laid back ‘it is what it is’ kind of guy. He’s young and free. He probably doesn’t have a portfolio and a drawer of perfectly rolled up socks like Jacob does.
Damn, I’m doing it again… comparing. I shake my head and turn my attention back to Alex’s page. That’s when I see her… Sandra, the love of his life. I’m struck by how much she looks like… me. She could be my younger sister — a petite blue-eyed blonde; same hair, face shape, body type, similar eyes and smile.
Apparently, Alex has a type. Or perhaps I just remind him of her.
I check the time: 2:36 AM. I turn off my phone and throw it on the end of my bed. Enough of this… I’m acting like a silly teenager.
As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out, drifting from thoughts of Alex and Jacob into peaceful slumber.
11
Jacob is all bushy tailed in the morning, making smoothies again. I feel like hell; not enough sleep and a little hungover.
“Too much to drink last night?” Jacob teases. “I tried to warn you. I know your limits.”
I glare at him. Of course he does.
“I’ll make you a pick-me up smoothie,” he says. “You’ll be right in no time. How about a game of Boccee ball later?”
I manage a smirk. “Do I look like I’m up for a game of Boccee?”
“Trust me, after this smoothie, you’ll be as good as new.”
Miraculously, I feel great, just as Jacob said I would. I hate to admit it but the man is a miracle worker. I’ve had a refreshing shower and am wearing my cutest outfit; checkered short shorts paired with a white tank top and navy Keds. It’s a beautiful day; sunny and warm. Life could definitely be worse.
Coming here was a great decision — it’s exactly what I needed. Even Jacob being here unexpectedly hasn’t turned out so bad. My mind momentarily brings me back to the amazing sex in the tent, and I shake the vision away. I can’t let myself go there. I need to stick to the plan.
Jacob is biting his bottom lip as he aims for the cluster of balls — it’s his concentrating look. I think it’s pretty cute, even now.
He throws his yellow ball right at mine, and knocks it out of its winning position.
“I hate it when you do that,” I scoff. “You’re not playing fair.”
“Hey, there’s no rule that says you can’t knock out your opponent’s balls… it’s all part of the game, Corrie. You’re just mad because you can’t do it too.”
I grumble as I aim to roll my ball toward the small white plank ball. I’m actually pretty skilled at this game — I’m good at judging the hills and trajectory of the ball, and just how hard I need to roll it. My ball rolls slowly and finally settles right next to the plank ball. I jump up and down like a kid. “You can’t bring me down, buddy,” I gloat. “Even with your dirty tricks.”
He rolls his eyes and goes for another knockout shot. This time he fails miserably, and I don’t even try to hide my huge grin. “I am kicking your ass,” I point out, rubbing it in.
He smirks at me. “You’ve always been good at this game, you little devil.”
Damn… the things he says. I love it when he calls me his little devil. Usually he does it when I’m on my knees, and he’s inside me, pulling my hair.
I shake my head. I really need to stop thinking about sex. I am not sleeping with him again.
Two days. I have not had sex with Jacob for two days now.
To Jacob’s dismay, I win the game. We have beef tacos, nachos and guacamole and margaritas for lunch. We talk about my friends. Jacob always loves to hear about Gabbie, Maeve and Kayla’s antics. There’s been a lot of drama in our group these past two years — break-ups, new loves, engagements… babies.
I’m having so much fun chatting with Jacob that I don’t even notice the time fly by. Next thing you know, I glance at the large retro clock on the wall and notice that it’s 1:05 PM.
“Shit,” I snap. “I’m late.”
Jacob cocks a brow. “Late for what?”
“I’m meeting Alex.”
Jacob’s smile fades.
“It’s about a table,” I clarify. “I’m buying a table.”
He nods. “I see… well, off you go then. I’ll clean up here.”
I kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks. You’re a doll.”
Alex is looking mighty fine today. He’s wearing a tattered grey muscle shirt and cargo shorts, and for the first time, I notice a tattoo on his shoulder, some kind of tribal design — it’s hot. He smiles as he goes over the catalog with me. There are all kinds of choices for bases; streamlined and simple for a modern look, and more traditional to full-on Victorian inspired. I go for something in between. We then go over the different wood options. I choose the rosewood — it’s beautiful. Walnut is too expensive, and the tree trunk slabs like the one in Beatrice’s cottage are way out of my league. Still, I’m happy with my choices and I can’t wait to see the final product.
Alex offers me a second cup of coffee, and I politely decline. I’m sitting on his contemporary studio sofa. I study it for a second, wondering if it’s a futon. It looks like one, and then I have a quick fantasy of Alex and I stretched across it, naked. It’s five seconds tops. So sue me… I’m just a woman with a healthy libido — it doesn’t mean anything.
Almost as if Alex can read my thoughts, he stands still a few feet away and stares. I shift on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. I like the way he’s looking at me.
“So, Corrie. What’s the deal with you and Jacob?”
I’m stunned by the directness of his question.
“It’s complicated,” I admit. “We’re getting a divorce, but he can’t seem to let go.”
Alex smiles, his blue eyes fixing me. “I totally get it. I wouldn’t be able to let you go either.”
Damn, boy. Go easy on me… I’m old.
He leans down and sits next to me on the sofa. “So you’re single?”
I smile. “Yes… I guess…” My words trail off.
“Good, I was just checking.”
Checking? Checking for what?
“Uh… okay, good, that is…” I struggle to say. It seems I’ve suddenly turned into a dimwit who can’t form a coherent sentence. How old is he anyway? He must be a least ten years younger than me. If not more. And the things I’m imagining doing to him…
I’m a dirty old woman.
My heart is pounding now. “I do.”
“How about a swim then?”
“Now? In the lake?” I am not down for that.
He laughs. “Yes, right now. It’s a gorgeous day, and it’s getting kind of hot in here, don’t you think?”
Well, it definitely is, but…
“I don’t have my suit on,” I quickly say, the perfect excuse. I can’t very well go in there naked.
He traces a finger down the strap of my tank top. “What are you wearing under there? I see a bra strap.”
My mind is numb, but my sex is all, Hell, girl. The boy is pulling at your bra strap. This is going somewhere and fast.
“Uh… I’m wearing a blue bra and matching panties.”
He winks at me. “Sounds perfect. You can just go in in your underwear.”
I could. I really could. Suddenly, the idea exhilarates me. I’ve always been impulsive and I’m not about to change now. I bounce off the sofa. “Let’s do this.”
“Great. Just let me quickly get into my trunks.”
I grab a hold of his wrist. “No way. If I’m going in my underwear, so are you.”
He laughs out loud. This is one of those moments — a snap shot of happiness. Crazy shenanigans that you’ll remember on your deathbed. Alex has officially made it into my memory book.
“What do you wear?” I tease, absolutely loving it. “Boxers or briefs?”
“Briefs… plain old white briefs.”
“Perfect,” I cheer as I dash out of his studio. He follows me to the beach, eager. As I near the water, I pull off my tank top and throw it on the sand. I kick off shoes and shed my shorts. The pebbles on the beach or painful to walk on. When I turn around, I see Alex, in nothing but his briefs.
I feel like I’m ten years old again.
I daintily step into the water, like I usually do — I’m not a jump-right-in kind of girl. It is freezing.
Alex runs right past me and dives right in. When he reemerges, his hair is slicked back and he looks like a God. He grins playfully at me. “You’re going in, Corrie. Whether you want to or not.”