Serious Fun

by Jessie Gussman

  “Friday is actually my morning off. The library’s staffed by volunteers tomorrow morning and Saturday.”

  He nodded but still didn’t look at her.

  “Will Tough mind if I come?” she asked, hating the little bit of hesitation in her voice. She wanted to spend time with Turbo, but after seeing him with DeShaun and Camila, she knew the fact that she couldn’t have kids could make difference to him. She’d found out the hard way that some men were not the slightest bit interested in “raising someone else’s child” as one man had called adoption.

  She didn’t want to postpone the inevitable—Turbo ditching her for a woman who could be a wife and a mother. Not to mention, things had already been awkward at the play.

  “Nah. They’ll tease me some.” He glanced over at her, as though weighing her reaction to his words. “Somehow they got the impression at Torque’s wedding that we didn’t like each other.”

  “Understandable,” Harris said, nodding in a way that she hoped appeared thoughtful and not embarrassed.

  Turbo pulled into his driveway. “Yeah, I’m not sure if it was the fact that I had to forfeit the deposit on my tux because you dumped your juice on my head or the fact that you crawled under the table to get away from me.”

  Harris yanked up on her door handle. “For the last time, the juice thing was an accident.”

  “If you say so. Kinda funny how it landed on my head like that.”

  “The spider that you put in my drink scared me, and I jumped, accidentally throwing my arms up, and the drink slipped out of my hand and onto your head.” Harris shut her door and walked around the front of the truck, meeting Turbo in front of the grill.

  “At least your story hasn’t changed.” He leaned a hip against the front of his grill.

  “It hasn’t changed because it’s the truth.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Then, you got scared and crawled under the table because you thought I was going to grab your neck or something.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “That’s my brothers’ version of the story.” Turbo crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Did you tell them that I was on my hands and knees cleaning up the punch that mostly landed on the floor...”

  “It dripped off my head.”

  “There was a small spot on your head.”

  “I was soaked.”

  Okay, so she wasn’t going to win that argument. Most of her cup did land on his head, even though it was an accident. Mostly. “Maybe they thought we didn’t get along because after you put the spider in my drink and after you mentioned that I should have been the one wearing the juice because it was the same color as my hair, you followed me under the table and tried to trade seats with someone three tables down.”

  “I wasn’t trading seats, I was borrowing scissors.”

  “That was you! I knew it was you.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s a lucky thing that Cassidy had a small, informal wedding, because if you had actually cut a piece out of an expensive dress... How... When...?”

  “Haven’t you ever seen The Parent Trap? The old one?”

  She thought about the movie for a moment. “I never stood by the punch bowl.”

  “No, but I was under the table while you were standing beside it. You probably would have noticed, but you had a screaming twin in each arm, and I couldn’t resist.”

  “I can’t believe you cut the back of my dress out.”

  “I only went up to midthigh. I mean, I think I could have gone the whole way up as loud as they were screaming, but I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah, really. Unlike you.”

  “Me?” She felt a little twinge of guilt.

  “Yeah. When it was your turn for the mic, instead of heaping praise on Cassidy and Torque, you spent the entire five minutes comparing me to Indiana Jones’s pet monkey.”

  “The similarities were striking.”

  Instead of being offended, Turbo chuckled. “You did have every single guest laughing.”

  “No. But they did make you get up on the table and show them your special ‘Monkey Dance’ which was hilarious. Then everyone was laughing.” Turbo made everyone laugh, and he’d played along like a great sport. He teased and joked and played pranks, but he could take it too.

  Turbo shook his head. “Actually, I think everyone was laughing because I made you get up with me for the end, and that’s when everyone realized half of your dress was missing.”

  “I was really angry about that.” She had stewed about it for days. Even though it was a dress she’d picked up for a dollar at the secondhand store. It was the idea.

  “Yeah. I have no idea why my brothers still tease me about the one woman who hates me,” he said with more than a little sarcasm.

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “You paid some old man to trade you places.”

  “That crafty old fellow made a hundred bucks off me.” He shrugged. “I just wanted a dry place to sit.” He lifted a hand and brushed a piece of her hair away from her face. She shivered at the light touch of his fingers.

  “Then don’t put spiders in my drink,” she said softly.

  He stepped closer, putting his arm around her. She stepped into his embrace, meeting him half-way.

  His breath was shaky, and his voice low. “I guess we could have shared your chair. Then my brothers wouldn’t have been teasing me for the last year about finding the woman who was not only immune to my supposedly amazing charms but who crawled under tables at wedding receptions to get away from me.”

  “So you have numerous charms?” Was she flirting? She was the serious librarian who never flirted.

  “According to my brothers, I’m like Romeo on steroids.”

  “That’s so? You’ve got all sorts of women under your spell?”

  “I don’t think so. The only woman I even remotely have wrapped around my finger is Miss Sally at the nursing home, and that’s only because I ignore the fact that she licks her fingers while she’s putting the cookies on the tray and I eat them anyway.”

  Harris shivered. “Better than cardboard?”

  “Much. The oven bakes away the germs.”

  It wasn’t the germs. It was the idea. But she didn’t believe him about the girls. “I see. I seem to remember someone saying something about you walking in the front door with one woman and out the back with another.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh. So, you’ve never had a girlfriend?”

  “I might have had a couple,” he said with a sly grin that didn’t confirm or deny his words.

  “And you’ve never taken anyone else out and romanced them under the stars?” She tilted her head at what she hoped was a jaunty angle to hide how much she hoped he hadn’t.

  “No. I haven’t done that before.”

  “And you’ve never kissed anyone?” She almost slapped a hand across her mouth. Where had that question come from?

  “I’m not grilling you on your past.” His voice stayed even, and he didn’t seem upset.

  She shrugged. “That’s easy. I don’t have one. You avoided the question.”

  “Never found any girl willing to let me practice.”

  “Oh, so you’re looking for a practice girl so you can get prepared for the real woman?”

  His eyes glinted. “Nope. Too late to start practicing.”

  “How so?”

  “I found the one I want. Just don’t know how the frig I’m going to talk her into taking me.” His voice vibrated down into her chest.

  Her heart pounded. He wouldn’t be saying that, holding her close, if he had another girl he was interested in. It made her want to forget all the problems and just live. But it was only fair to warn him.

  “I have to tell you something.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “I guess that means I have to tell you something too, but I don’t really want to.”

  “Me either.”<
br />
  Chapter 14

  THEY STARED AT EACH other for a few long moments.

  Harris swallowed. It was about time she took a chance in life. “What do you say we confess some other time and just practice kissing tonight?”

  His eyes crinkled, and both sides of his mouth swung up. “I say...” He halted, and his eyes dimmed. “I say that you’ll feel like I took advantage of you later.” He leaned back, just a little.

  “What if I promise not to?” She tilted her head. “You have to promise not to hate me either. And to not be too disappointed.” She took a breath. “And to not ruin the play. Just act like we’ve never kissed at play practice.”

  Both of his rough hands came up and cupped her cheeks. “I could never hate you. I won’t be disappointed, either.” He froze. “Unless you’re married?”

  “No,” she gasped in mock outrage, remembering her similar question of the night before.

  “Okay. My secret doesn’t involve anyone else, either.”

  “Mine either.” Except the children she’d never have. “Not really.”

  “So, did we just decide we were going to live in the moment again?” he asked, his head leaning a little closer to hers.

  “I think we did.” She turned her head slightly and bit his thumb, which had nestled itself in the corner of her mouth.

  His harsh exhale sent little pricks of power shooting up her spine. It felt good. Her lips turned up.

  Turbo watched her reaction, his eyes lowered and heated. “Makes me think you have no idea how much control you have over me right now.”

  “Feels good,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to be powerful alone.” She lowered her gaze. “You have the same over me.”

  He threaded his fingers through her hair. “Scary. I’m an idiot sometimes, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  His finger trembled as he traced her cheek, slow and gentle, as though she were precious china and he was afraid of breaking her.

  Her heart skipped and scattered in her chest, and her limbs felt heavy. Her lips tingled.

  “Don’t hate me, Harris,” he whispered, before his lips touched hers.

  Light and dark exploded into glorious color. Her hands tightened into fists, gripping his t-shirt as her body leaned into him.

  He feathered another kiss over her mouth as she strained upward. A little whimper escaped her when he pulled slightly away.

  He growled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tight against him, his lips on hers, moving with urgency. The front of his grill dug into her back, but she barely noticed. Her hands slid up, shoving into his hair and dragging him closer still.

  Her knees shook, her heart raced, and her world narrowed to Turbo, his taste and his scent, his touch and the sound of his harsh breathing.

  He pulled back. She hissed in protest. He half-laughed, half-groaned as he closed his eyes. “If you want me to treat you like a lady, you’d better not make a sound like that again.” He opened his eyes. “One kiss feels like a hundred more.”

  “A thousand more,” she said, disappointment warring with red-hot desire spiraling through her body. Her blood rushed in her ears.

  He took a deep breath before whispering, “Frig it,” and lowering his head back down.

  Long minutes later when he finally lifted his head, she was sitting on the hood of his pickup, with no memory of getting there, and he was pressed between her knees. He was panting. She, too, gasped for breath.

  They stayed like that, staring at each other and breathing hard for what felt like eternity.

  “As soon as I can walk without falling, I’m going to put you in your car.”

  She nodded.

  Several more minutes went by as her breath and heart rate calmed.

  Finally he put his hands on her waist and helped her off the hood of his truck.

  “I hope I didn’t dent it.”

  “Never thought I’d say I don’t give a flip about my truck. Never saw anything better in my life than you sitting on it.”

  His strong arm wrapped around her waist as he walked her to her car and opened the door.

  She wound the window down before shutting it.

  He leaned down, his forearms resting on the top of the open window. “I know I’m going to be thinking about the last twenty minutes all freaking night. Wishing you were here.”

  His words warmed her chest. “Me too.”

  “You coming with me tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” She couldn’t remember where he was going, but at this point, she felt like she’d go anywhere he did.

  “I’ll pick you up. Seven too early?”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  He didn’t move. Finally he said, “I hate that I’m not dropping you off at your door. Call me when you get home?”

  “I’ll text.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “Okay. Thanks. Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  She backed out slowly. Turbo, outlined by the porchlight behind him, stood with his legs braced and his arms hanging at his sides. It was all she could do to not put her car in drive and go back to him. But his desire to treat her with the respect he felt she deserved fortified her willpower, and she backed out onto the highway.

  The drive home was a blur. Mostly because she couldn’t get the thought of Turbo wanting kids out of her head. Maybe he wouldn’t care. Maybe the neighborhood children would be enough. Maybe the idea of sitting on the couch, cozied up together, him reading a magazine, her a novel...or maybe they’d sit on a park bench in the fall and watch the leaves come down while taking turns reading poetry out loud. Books could take the place of kids. Turbo loved action and adventure, and there was no better place to find both than between the covers of a book.

  She arrived at her home, greatly cheered by the thought, and texted Turbo to let him know she was safe and that she’d see him the next day. She almost added, I think I might be falling in love with you, but she deleted it. They could sort their feelings out some other time.

  She had come to that conclusion and was about to drift off when Quincy texted her.

  I’m stuck on my story. Would you have time tomorrow to help? They haven’t let me out of this prison yet.

  Harris’s heart caught. She wanted to help Turbo, but Quincy needed her more, she supposed. Plus, she knew what it was like to be stuck in the hospital with nothing to do.

  I’ll be there. I’m off work until after noon. What time?

  I supposed they’ll be done with their early morning bloodsucking by nine. You could come then?

  I’ll be there.

  Bring Turbo. He makes my story funny.

  I’ll try. He’s trying to get his truck back together.

  Okay.

  Harris bit her lip, before sucking it up and writing a long text to Turbo. Not fifteen seconds after she hit “send,” her phone rang.

  Turbo’s number came up. She smiled. He was probably too impatient to text.

  She pulled her covers up and cradled her phone. “Hello.”

  “Hey. What’s up? Miss me already?”

  “Didn’t you read my text? Quincy wants help with her story tomorrow morning. She specifically asked for you too, but I told her you were working on your truck.”

  “Hmm.” Turbo was silent for a moment. “What time?”

  “She said by nine.”

  “Okay. That will work. I’ll start on my hood a little earlier. I might have to beat Tough’s butt out of bed. Seems like since he got married...” Turbo’s voice trailed off. When he spoke again, it was lower and softer. “You make it to bed yet?”

  It sent shivers down her spine, and she gripped the covers tighter, closing her eyes. “Yes. You?”

  “Nah. Too keyed up.”

  “Sitting on the porch swing?” She could see him out there in the dark, pushing it slowly and dreaming up his next prank.

  “Frig no. I’m here in the living room, working on my car.”

  “You know normal people do that in th
e garage.”

  “This house didn’t come with one. So I’m making do.”

  “Your wife might have something to say about that.”

  “Ya think so? I hadn’t really thought there’d ever be a woman who’d put up with me, but I’ve been running after one pretty hard lately. Maybe I’ll let her catch me.”

  Harris laughed.

  “Guess we’d have a hard time letting the kids play in the living room if I’ve got car parts all over it.”

  Her laugh caught in her throat. “You want kids?” she asked huskily.

  “Yeah. At least ten. Been thinking lately I’m gonna put an order in for at least half of them to have red hair.”

  His words cracked her heart with a painful tear. Her throat closed, and she couldn’t talk.

  “Harris?” he said after she didn’t say anything. But she couldn’t stop the sniffle that came out. “You’re crying. Rissy, girl. What did I do now?” His voice was low and soft and pleading.

  She clenched her jaw. “Nothing. I can’t have kids.”

  There were three beats of silence. She timed it.

  “I’ll be right there. Stay put.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he had already swiped off. Laying her phone beside her on her pillow, she brushed at the tears in her eyes. What was wrong with her? She’d known practically all her life that she’d not be able to have kids. Why was she crying?

  But, of course, she knew. The idea that Turbo might be dreaming about having more, being more with her than what they were already. It made her heart sing. But the fact that he wanted ten kids...maybe he was joking about that many, but obviously they were important to him.

  Still, she couldn’t change the past, and she couldn’t fix the future.

  Cassidy had adopted. Harris had thought of that option and had it shot down by the first guy she mentioned it to.

  The thing that she didn’t think about much and really hated to face...the cancer could come back. Or, more likely, the treatments that had left her unable to have children could cause a different cancer to take her life. Early. Soon. And how fair would that be to a child who, for some reason, already had lost a mother? Not very.