Oh fuck no. I’m not taking this lying down.
“Sweetheart, you can stop right there.” I can practically hear her sharp intake and see her sucking at her teeth. I’ve seen her do it before, when she’s worried about something. The picture in my head of her doing it makes me smile and I relax against the island, the granite cool on my forearms. “You aren’t backing out of our deal. You still haven’t even told me what you want and I can tell you,” I hesitate, remembering what she texted and feeling like this is a turning point and more importantly, like I’m risking hurting her. I’d rather risk that, than risk letting her go. Call me a prick, but I can’t let her walk away again like she did last night. “I really like you too.”
It’s quiet on her end. Too quiet. I don’t even know if she’s still there. Doubling down, I tell her, “There I admitted it. Now you have me by the balls, Grace.”
Her small laugh fills the phone. I can imagine her blushing.
“Well… I’ll see you soon then?” she says, like it’s a question.
“You better,” I tell her.
“Alright then, bye Charlie.” I realize as she says the words that I don’t like her telling me bye.
“Bye, sweetheart.” I don’t like telling her bye either. The phone clicks dead and I drop the phone on the counter.
I shake my head. This is bad. It’s real bad. I already like her too much. I already want to keep her.
Staring at my kitchen, I try to remember the last time I used it. I can’t keep her because we have different life plans. The biggest problem though, is that I don’t actually have a plan. Not one that makes me happy.
I text Grace on a whim, Do you like funnel cakes?
Grace
I dress myself to go to the Piedmont Park Festival in a strappy linen-colored cotton sundress. It’s my favorite. I twist around in front of the mirror in my bedroom, my mind on the upcoming event and a smile on my face.
It’s an outdoor festival. I chew my lip as I try to decide on a jacket, since it’ll be cool outside this early in the morning. A smile curves my lips up as I pick a light denim jacket, pairing it with light brown leather ankle boots.
I look in the mirror, and my expression twists. A pale redhead peers back at me, her blue eyes anxious.
Do I really look like that?
I need emotional support today, someone to lean on. I pick up my phone and scroll through the contacts and find Ann.
She’s logical, whereas I’m… emotional. Although sometimes it’s vice versa.
Without much time to waste, I put it on speaker once I get to my car.
“Okay, spill it.” The first words out of her mouth make me laugh out loud.
“Spill what?” I rest my elbow on the car door and put my head in my hand as I drive down the interstate, listening to the GPS.
“You wouldn’t call if it wasn’t about Charlie.”
“You remember what I told you?”
“How could I forget?”
Deep breath in. “Well, he decided I’m not allowed to back out of our deal and that he wanted to take me on a date,” I practically squeal.
Ann’s reaction is everything I needed. From the: oh my God, oh my God. To asking what I’m wearing and if I put on cute underwear… just in case.
The only time my smile slips is when I remember I haven’t told Ann about the IVF and baby issues. In fact, Charlie’s the only one I’ve told that to.
Ann wishes me all the good luck in the world, telling me she loves me and that she has such good feelings about this before I hang up.
When I park I have to remind myself, I’m on a date with my fake boyfriend.
A man who isn’t right for me, and I know it. Heck, I doubt I’m right for him either.
A man who doesn’t want the same things I want. That much we both know.
It’s stupid of me. I’m wasting time.
But I can’t help thinking he’s a man who’d make a cute baby…
The chill in the air is more refreshing than cold when I get out to search for Charlie. Although I’m distracted, busy scrolling through an email on my phone. My doctor’s office emailed me information about IVF and how to find a donor. My eyes widen as I look through it all. There are a ton of big numbers -- ten thousand dollars, forty thousand unique donors.
It’s too much for me to try to take in right now, especially if I’m supposed to be on this date. Stashing my phone, I wait at the entrance to the park, next to the big white sign waiting for Charlie.
When I see Charlie, everything in me clenches, the good kind of way. From his simple white tee pulled tight across his broad shoulders, to his bulging biceps and worn jeans… he is my kind of man. I try not to stare at him as I hand him an iced coffee, but his deep green eyes are all over me.
“Thanks,” he says, eyes roving down my figure. “You look… nice.” Heat creeps up high in my cheeks, all the way to my temple.
“Yeah, well,” I can’t help but smile, blushing as I play off the compliment. I swear, when Charlie’s around, my cheeks are a permanent shade of tomato red, made even more apparent because of my fair complexion. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“You ready?” he says, nodding toward the park.
“I am,” I answer. I have to hold onto my coffee with both hands to keep from reaching out for his with one of mine.
Sipping my iced coffee, I ignore the feeling that something’s different between us as we stroll down one of the paths, under a banner declaring this the Piedmont Park Festival in bright blue scroll. Each side of the path is dotted with individual booths full of food and games or larger showcases of handmade trinkets and art to buy, which take up several tents measuring twelve by twelve feet each.
I sip my iced coffee, but I can’t help smiling as Charlie tells me a story about his younger sister Ali and how she had a fit one year over her funnel cake dropping.
“I mean… she was only, what did you say? Six? And I’d have a fit today if I dropped a full funnel cake.”
The conversation is easy. The laughs are genuine. It’s different. The small touches, the quick glances. It makes my naïve heart think there’s something here.
“Alright, your turn. What about your family?”
“Well, it’s just my mom now. My dad died in a car crash when I was little.” I talk easily, but stare at the grass as we climb up a bit of a hill. I wish I had a big loving family like his.
“I’m sorry.” I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look back.
“It’s been a long time. But thank you.” It’s quiet for too long. I want to tell him that I talk to my mom often but she’s busy and travels a lot. It’s all clogged at the back of my throat though, so I try washing it down with the rest of my coffee.
“What about your parents?” I question him, “What do they do. Your mom seems really sweet.”
His grin is asymmetric and that’s when our hands brush for just a moment. Ripping my gaze away so he doesn’t see my blush get even hotter, I wait for him to answer. “Dad’s a pilot. Ma’s a homemaker. And you’ve met one of my sisters.”
“That I have.” I can feel my eyebrows raise up, remembering Ali. “I still have to message her,” I admit to him. He only laughs and tells me he’ll give me her number. I move the cold coffee cup to my other hand, wiping the water off on my jacket before taking another sip.
“What’s Ali do?”
“She’s a nurse. Just graduated two years ago.”
I turn to look at him as we walk to the top of the hill and pause there, “And your other sister?”
“Cheryl’s a homemaker, like my ma. She has a fancy English degree, and she’ll probably go back to teaching at some point. She loves kids.”
“Kids,” I repeat the word, feeling a low tension roll over me.
“They have a baby now, so she’s adjusting to being at home and all that.”
The mention of a baby makes my heart flip. My lips part to ask him more about his sister, but my eyes catch sight of exactl
y what I want right now.
On cue, my stomach grumbles with hunger, “Want one?” I question
“The pickle on a stick or the waffle fries?” he questions, grinning from ear to ear.
Shrugging I answer, “Either or both.” Fried food and big pickles on a stick are exactly what I think of when I think festival. That and funnel cake of course.
“Well what are you getting?” He asks me and I answer, “The doughnuts. They are fried heaven with powdered sugar.” My stomach grumbles again as the smell gets stronger and the line we’re standing in gets shorter.
Charlie takes his time, eyeing the menu written out on the board to the right of the stand. “It’s kind of like funnel cake, but in ball form.” I whisper getting closer to him, as if it’s some big secret I’m confessing.
“I guess I’ll take one and I want the whipped cream too.”
I order easy enough and reach into my clutch, ready to pay since I offered. Charlie beats me to it though.
“Hey,” I protest watching him hand over the cash. “It was my treat,” my tone is wounded.
“Nonsense,” he answers, taking the change and then both of our paper boats of dusted donuts. “It’s my date,” he nods and passes me the fried deliciousness I’ve been craving.
“Well thank you.”
It’s obvious by the way his lips part that he was going to say something, but a bit of cream slipped off the top of a hot donut and hits his wrist.
I must be crazy, because Charlie licking off that dollop of whipped cream turns up the temperature around me to about a thousand. A second passes as we step out of line.
My body heats, igniting with desire as I bite my lip, and see his gaze drop to my lips. I suddenly realize that I want him to kiss me. No, need him to kiss me.
I lean in just a fraction, rising on my tiptoes to kiss him and close my eyes, his lips mold against mine. The touch is electric, filling my whole body with a restless energy. The kiss is slow, not pushing for anything more, but that just makes it all the sweeter.
When we pull away, my whole body is covered with goosebumps, my breathing labored.
What really gets my heart racing, though, is the fact that the same expression is on his face. Our eyes meet, and it’s so intense that I wimp out.
I look away and laugh, and the tension breaks.
“Is that how you say thank you for donuts all the time?” he asks mildly. “I could add these to the menu.”
Another laugh leaves me at his joke. “Maybe,” I say with a shrug.
Silence stretches, but it’s easy. Everything suddenly feels easy and like it’s supposed to be this way.
I try not to think of the details because, right now, it’s just perfect.
Charlie
As I walk Grace back to our cars, I can’t help thinking that I don’t remember the last time I took a day off.
There’s a reason I work my ass off.
I go after what I want, and what I want right now, more than wanting the bar to be stable, is her.
I lean close to her ear, letting my warm breath tickle her neck and sending goosebumps over every inch of her body as I ask, “You have a good time tonight?” The sun’s setting, the crickets are out, and everything about this moment is picture perfect.
“You know I did.” Her shoulders shake with a soft laugh and she pushes me away slightly, a bit of space coming between us as we walk through the grass of the park. I’m quick to close the gap, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze before pulling her back to me.
“Does this count as a first date?” my voice carries through the dark night.
“A date? All you asked was if I wanted funnel cake,” she answers with a wide grin as she looks straight ahead.
“Well who doesn’t love funnel cake?” I respond without thinking.
Grace rips her hand from mine, covering her face with a laugh before shaking her head. I love that sound. She practically skips a few steps to get back to me, that beautiful smile still etched on her face. My chest feels warm and full.
But I know this is temporary unless I do and say the right things. Committing to things in life that I am not ready for. It feels like a date, but a girl like her needs more than a hot dog, cola and fried donuts.
The night's still young.
The clouds seem to dim a bit more as the noises from the people leaving the festival behind us fade. We’re some of the last people to leave.
Grace clears her throat in a polite fashion as we pass the last tent. The sky’s darkening and dry lightning is in the far-off distance, brightening the horizon before leaving us in darkness with a loud crash. It’s comforting though, and each time it happens, Grace steps a little closer to me. Her small body practically molded to mine as we leave the festival and head to the parking lot.
I love the warmth of her body, the feminine sounds of her gasps every time the lightning cracks across the sky. It doesn’t take any effort at all to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer.
It’s a real date, whether she wants to admit it or not.
I don’t miss the way she perks up and deliberately avoids looking at me the second my skin touches hers.
“Did you have fun?” she asks me shyly. I like this side of Grace. At the bar she lets herself go sometimes, but mostly she’s just joking to hide the real her.
She has a shit day, it’s just a joke.
She’s in a fight, she laughs it off.
But that insecurity is always there just beneath the surface. Out here in the open without the dim lights of the bar and alcohol, I’m not letting her get away with hiding anything. I want to know the real her. And I’m not holding back in the least.
It’s different, and I like it. I want more of it. I want more of her.
“I did,” I smile down at her as we walk through the path and finally reach the skinny sidewalk that leads us towards the cars.
The parking lot is at the very front and there’s relative privacy from a row of trees that lines the sidewalk. It’s late and dark. The sound of a car starting up leads my eyes to look straight ahead and watch the passengers drive off. Other than that, we're leaving the world behind us as we head home.
My jaw ticks and I tighten my grip around her waist as I realize we drove separately. Dammit. My fingers tighten a bit on her. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to leave here and never get this side of her back.
I just need another date. The wedding.
The anxiety squeezing my heart fades as I realize I still have her. I still have a chance to give her what she needs to stay with me.
I can hold her for a little longer, get to see more of this side of her. She’s looking for Mr. Right, but I can keep her occupied until he comes along.
Crack!
“Oh!” Grace jumps slightly as we walk across the pavement and she nearly falls. A rough chuckle tickles the back of my throat as I hold her closer. She’s even more tempting in my arms.
She doesn’t leave my hold right away, her soft blue eyes looking into mine. Her breath comes in faster, and it makes her breasts rise with each short intake. I can feel the spark between us, the pull that’s ignited and pushing me closer to her, wanting to feel more of her, all of her. It’s not until the steps of other attendants leaving the festival get louder, as the people get closer, that she pulls away.
She tucks her hair behind her ear, breaking my heated gaze and brushing it off like what just happened wasn’t affecting her.
I can hear the smartass comment, the joke coming out of her mouth before she even says it. But I turn her in my grasp, gripping her hips and pulling her to my hard chest and crash my lips against hers. Silencing whatever was going to come out between those sweet lips.
I want her and she’s going to know damn well that I do.
At first her lips are hard, caught by surprise, but she molds them to mine and parts that sweet seam, opening her hot mouth for me. She moans as I deepen the kiss, her small hands gripping my shirt.
I
don’t want to leave with only that little blip of a taste of her. The way her car’s parked near mine gives us a bit of privacy. I want her to know what I can give her.
She may want marriage and babies, and I’m sure as fuck not ready for that... But I can get her addicted to something else.
More than an innocent kiss.
My hands grip her hips and I hear her ass smack against my car as I splay my hand across her back and pull her against me. My dick’s hard in an instant.
I don’t know what happened. One minute she’s all for it, kissing me back with just as much passion.
The next, she breaks the kiss too soon, the moment gone as she steps out of my grasp and leaving me pining after her. There's a chill between us.
“We’re just friends, right?” Grace’s voice is soft, full of feigned strength, the vulnerability shining through. “This is just fun?” Her eyes dart up to mine as she starts walking to her car, her heels clicking on the pavement as she tries to catch her breath and blow off what just happened. I quicken my pace to catch up to her and hold her in my arms, searching her face for the reason she just took off.
It takes me a moment to even register what she asked.
I know what she wants to hear. She wants me to say I want more. But the words won’t come out.
The last time I gave someone more, she ripped my heart out. All I can see in front of me is how much of a fool I was back then.
Grace wants more, but I can’t give it to her.
I pull away from her, forcing a smile on my lips and ignoring her question as I say, “I had a really good time tonight.” Fucking hell, what’s wrong with me?
Her eyes flash with something, and the shame of knowing she wants more but deliberately not giving it to her presses against my chest. She turns to leave without another word.
The dry lightning turns to rain as I watch Grace walk away. The droplets are light at first, warm. I don’t do a damn thing to stop them from coming down as I unlock my car. It soaks into the thin cotton of my shirt, making it stick to my skin as I climb in and close the door.
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