Cary Ann
CARY ANN
T his is stupid. I have butterflies and I’m nervous and I feel so childish, but thinking about Vinny reminds me how I used to feel about him. I’d walk back home from school while he drove away on his motorcycle, just dreaming about being on the back, my arms around his waist. Imagining how he’d kiss me outside of school. I huff a small laugh and bring my beer to my lips.
Times have changed, but I can’t help feeling the nerves from way back then.
I watch as a customer rings the little bells scattered along the holly on the bar. That, along with Christmas music, is really making it feel like the holidays. The holly also has fake snow on it, and there’s a snowman spray-painted with more fake snow on the front window of the bar, too.
It’s cute, but some asshole is running his finger through it and pissing off the bartender, who I’m guessing is the one who made the artwork. I look straight ahead and just ignore him. The guy’s drunk, and the bartender doesn’t do anything but shake his head, then continues wiping down the glasses. I imagine he’s gotta spray-paint a new snowman every night.
“No mistletoe?” I jump a little in my seat and almost spill my beer when I hear his voice. Vinny.
I give Vinny a small smile and set my beer down, trying to remember what he asked as my heartbeat calms back down. His voice is so deep and rough that it makes desire stir in my belly.
My cheeks flush when I finally realize what he said. Mistletoe . I’m a strong, confident woman, but this man brings out a shy side of me that I haven’t felt in years.
I start picking at the label on my beer bottle and shake my head with my teeth sunk into my bottom lip. “Not here,” I whisper in the sexiest voice I can.
I dressed the part tonight, wearing a deep red dress that clings to my figure. I know it’s tight and a bit provocative for this bar, but I want to look good for him. I want to show off this feminine side of me. I want to show him that I’m a woman now, and that I want exactly what he has to offer.
Part of me feels self-conscious, while another part of me feels slutty. But I don’t care. I want him, and I’m not letting him go without trying.
He takes a seat at the bar, looking up at the college football game on the TV behind the bar as he slides off his leather jacket. All he’s wearing underneath is a clean crisp t-shirt that hugs his broad shoulders tightly, and a pair of faded blue jeans. Fuck, even in casual clothes he looks like a million bucks.
Suddenly the expensive dress I wore makes me feel cheap. I stop picking at the stupid label on the bottle and finally take another swig.
“You look beautiful, Cherry,” he says in a deep low voice that’s somehow directly connected to my clit. I turn to look at him when I feel those baby blue eyes on me.
I’m not letting him go without making it damn well obvious what I want tonight.
He’s my Christmas present to myself. If that makes me a ho, then I’ll ho ho ho myself right to his bedroom. Definitely his, since I’m still at my parents' house until I start my new job. I visibly cringe at the thought.
Vinny laughs, and then orders a beer. “What, you don’t like my nickname for you?” he asks me.
I let out a small laugh and smile, feeling the light buzz of the beer and accepting another as the bartender slides the glass bottles toward us on the bar.
“I like your nickname for me. It sounds dirty when you say it,” I confess and blush violently at my own words and silently blame it on the alcohol.
He cocks a brow at me and leans in as he asks, “Is that so, Cary Ann?” His hot breath lingers on my neck and creates a shiver that slowly runs down my body, hardening my nipples. His lips barely touch the shell of my ear as he huskily says, “I didn’t know you were a dirty girl… Cherry.”
I laugh it off even though I’m all hot and bothered. I want him to know that I want him, but I’m not going to make it too easy for him.
“So what are your plans for Christmas Eve?” I ask casually, and then I remember my own plans. All the desire leaves me, and my mouth goes dry. I grip my beer a little harder. My heart races in my chest. I have to work, but more importantly, I need to make sure everything goes smoothly.
I need to stop the video camera footage first. My blood heats with anxiety. I’m not letting Morose do this again. That orphanage matters to me, and I know for a fact last year he did the same thing. The donations are truly needed, and that greedy fucker took it all. I saw the check he wrote to himself. I didn’t want to believe it, but when I asked Mrs. Pilcavage if the check went through and she said she hadn’t gotten it, my heart truly broke. She’s an older lady and she believes what he tells her. It’s so wrong. I can’t stand it. I’m going to do the right thing, even if it costs me everything.
“Not much,” Vinny says and shrugs and then seems to stare off at the television for a moment. I have to get my shit together. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down.
I’ve never done anything like this, but I’m not going to let anything stand in my way of making sure I take every cent from the registers and giving it to the orphanage where it rightfully belongs.
And on top of that, I have proof of what Morose did so he goes to jail for being the thief he is. But I’m not waiting on the law. I’m making sure those kids have the best Christmas they’ve ever had.
The last thought fills me with conviction.
Anger courses through my blood, but the sight of Vinny staring back at me changes it to something else. Something stronger, something hotter that I can’t deny.
This shit is for me to worry about tomorrow night. Everything’s going to go down perfectly. So tonight I’m going to relax. With him .
“So nothing for Christmas Eve then?” I ask casually and then set the bottle down on the bar. I remember he’s from the orphanage, and my heart hurts a little. He grew up there for a few years before his aunt finally took him in. I can’t believe I forgot. I take another drink to stop all the emotions from creeping up on me.
I have to change the subject, fast. “You looking forward to anything for Christmas?” I ask him.
He looks above me at the holly and asks again, “Mistletoe?”
I laugh a little, making my shoulders shake some.
“How about a kiss then?” he finally asks me, leaning in.
I smile shyly at him, but I’m not shy about this kiss. I’m more than happy to give it to him. I want more though.
I lean in slightly and he goes for it, but I put my finger to his lips and stop him. His eyes slowly open and they narrow at me, as if daring me to deny him. The hidden threat lying there in his baby blues ignites that desire full force.
“I’m gonna need you to take me home first,” I whisper against his lips.
I gasp at the heat that blazes in his eyes. “That can be arranged, Cherry,” he says. “Finish your beer, and then you’re coming home with me.”