Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Holt
We bring breakfast to Grandpa, spending time with him before we head back to Anchor Lake. He’s his normal self, telling stories over and over again, except for when he stares off into space. I’m not sure if this is part of the dementia or if he’s lost in the memories we delivered to his doorstep. I wonder for the thousandth time if I should have brought Maple here. If I should have brought up Grandpa’s past when it had been buried for decades.
On the trip back home, Maple and I debate if Grandpa will call Gracie at some point. I place my money on no, but Maple is resistant to any negativity. She believes a second-chance, late-in-life romance is just the kind of thing that would happen to Gracie Thatcher, and by the time we get to Anchor Lake, two things are apparent.
One, Maple’s convinced me she’s right.
Two, I’m half in love with this woman.
Only half because I’ve been burned so badly before I can’t fathom that a woman as perfect as Maple actually exists. I’m waiting for her claws to come out, but so far, all I’ve seen is a softness I’m not sure I can live without.
“Do you have patients to see?”
I hold out my hand and help Maple down from the Jeep. Mookie yips from the back, like she thinks we’d forget her. I pull her out of the carrier and strap on the harness and leash. Little dogs running around old people with terrible balance is the thing of nightmares. Mookie has a strict harness-and-leash rule when at Sunny Shores.
“Nope. I’m all yours for the day.”
She smiles up at me and I can’t think of a single time Macy looked at me that way. Not that I should compare the two. There’s really no comparison. It’s just that I’ve assumed all women were like Macy after the razzle-dazzle of dating is over, when the truth might be something else entirely.
“Just what I wanted to hear,” she says coyly. “Let’s go find where that music’s coming from. I guarantee Grandma Gracie isn’t far.”
I thread my fingers through hers and we head for the main pool deck, Mookie leaving her mark along the way. If I ever get lost, I sure hope I have Mookie with me to sniff out her own form of breadcrumbs. Maple tells me how much Gracie loves music. Growing up, she’d play Maple records all summer, introducing her to every decade of sound, giving her an appreciation for it all.
“Karaoke?” Maple wrinkles her nose as we follow the bend in the path and see the pool up ahead. A reedy and shaky voice blares from the speakers while the tune of some ’70s song helps out in the background. The song mercifully ends and a smattering of applause leads into the next singer.
“Yeah, these blue hairs love their karaoke,” I mumble, recalling the time it got out of hand one night and one of our male residents broke a hip when he danced on a table during his number. Everything was going fine until he stripped his shirt off and started whipping it in a circle. The momentum caught up to him and the whole thing fell over with him at the bottom of the rubble. After that, I made a strict rule that karaoke couldn’t mix with alcohol. And we got rid of the tables. And I had staff keep a much closer eye on the residents during karaoke days.
“There’s Grandma.” Maple points to a cluster of women in lounge chairs, with Gracie in the middle.
They had an array of brightly colored sun hats, sunglasses, and drinks with tiny umbrellas in them. Gracie already had pink spots on the tops of her shoulders and Nancy had white zinc smeared down her nose. Pat’s head was down, nose in a book, ignoring the singers. We headed their way while I wondered if those fancy drinks had alcohol in them. I was only gone a day and a half. Certainly Debbie hadn’t bent the rules already, had she?
“You’re back!” Gracie cried as Maple bent down to hug her grandma. “And just in time. It’s karaoke day!”
Nancy shimmied her shoulders in her lounger. “Hey, you should sing, Maple!”
Maple looks at me with fear in her eyes. I remember the singing I heard in the car yesterday. And what her useless ex told her. I put my hand on her back and whisper encouragement in her ear. “Go sing if you want to.”
She bites her bottom lip, but before I can reach up and rescue it, a new voice comes over the speakers. Nurse Megan. Our heads swivel to see her on top of the riser at the far end of the pool, microphone in hand. She shoots a wink to the crowd, but I can’t help feeling it was purposely aimed to my side of the pool deck. The music starts and she begins singing surprisingly well. Her red hair flips this way and that in the breeze as she tosses it back and forth seductively. She’s singing some Harry Styles song about adoring someone.
“Is it just me, or is Nurse Megan confessing her love to me?” Nancy squawks so loudly, I wince.
“Oh, I don’t think it’s you she’s lookin’ at, hootchie mama. She’s looking at Holt!” Gracie responds. Just as loudly.
I feel all heads in the area turning to stare at me. Inwardly, I groan. This crush of Megan’s has gotten out of hand. I’ll have to have a word with Debbie and see what can be done about it.
“Are you flipping kidding me?” Maple whispers through clenched teeth that might somewhat resemble a smile. If I didn’t have my glasses on.
I put my arm around her waist. “It’s okay. I’ll have a word with her later about being professional. She knows we’re together.”
One of the kitchen staff whizzes by with a tray of the umbrella drinks. Maple snatches two off the tray. I think she’s going to hand one to me, but she double-fists them both, slugging back the first in one long gulp and then sipping on the second one. The whole while her gaze is drilling smoking holes into Megan across the pool.
“Maple, sweetheart. Are you okay?” If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of her ears.
“Maple, I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but I think you better get up there,” Gracie drawls. “She thinks she’s some kind of siren.”
I open my mouth to try to get Maple out of there, but she suddenly shoves both glasses in my gut, and I have to take my arm off of her to rescue them before she lets them spill to the ground. Maple rolls her shoulders back, takes a deep inhale, and then lets it out, a serene smile returning to her face.
“What just happened?” I ask, leaning in to study her. How did she go from fuming mad to yoga zen in half a second?
“Sometimes you have to do things you thought you’d never do. Not to prove it to anyone else, but to prove it to yourself,” she says cryptically. With a flip of her hair, she marches off, heading for the riser where Megan is finishing up her song.
I groan, watching her go and knowing what she’s about to do. I just hope it gives her what she needs—a healing from a dipshit who’s left an imprint on her. My heart also knows a thing or two about that.
Gracie and Nancy cheer, seeing Maple grab the microphone from Megan with a smile I know is forced. Nancy nudges Pat away from her book and Pat joins in on the cheering. The music starts and it takes me a couple notes to realize Maple has jumped into the deep end. She chose an upbeat Whitney Houston song about wanting to dance with someone.
The first lyrical “yeah” in the microphone, followed by a whoop, has Gracie, Pat, and Nancy on their feet. I drop my chin to my chest and pray for the best. Then I lift my head and watch my girl slay karaoke.
And I do mean slay. She kills every note deader than a doornail. Each falls flat or sharp. Her timing’s off and her voice wobbles. Megan lets out a loud snicker from the side of the pool, mean-girl energy pulsing louder than the music. Others wince, not to be mean, but because it really is dreadful.
But Maple’s too sweet to be laughed at. Too brilliant to be stifled. Too caring to be left alone on that riser. Before I know what I’m doing, my feet are carrying me to her. Just as she hits the chorus, I put a hand on her back, lean in, and sing with her. My arm slides around her back and her hips fuse to mine. I’m giving her someone to dance with. Someone who loves her. I can fight it all I want, but I know what this is in my chest. This overwhelming feeling to rescue her from anything that could hurt one hair on her head.
By the next chorus, we’re dirty dancing and singing our lungs out right there in front of my employees and residents. Maple’s face is lit up like the full moon in a blanket of darkness. I’d humiliate myself daily if it gave her this much joy.
And the even funnier thing is, when she takes a breath to sing the last verse, we realize the entire pool deck is up on their feet, shuffling, waving canes in the air, and shimmying geriatric hips. Sunny Shores karaoke has turned into a party.
All because Maple had the courage to face her fears and spread her wings. And maybe get a little angry.
As the last note fades away, the place erupts in cheers and applause. I blink, releasing Maple and stepping back to point to her. This was all Maple. The crowd gives her some whistles and then Maple is grabbing my hand and pulling me back toward Gracie.
“Grandma, will you watch Mookie today?” she asks, out of breath.
Nancy whoops and Gracie agrees, practically shoving us away. “Go have fun, you two.”
“I need to get you out of here,” Maple says, pulling me away. She’s breathless and sporting pink cheeks, eyes wild. She’s so dang beautiful, I almost stop her to take a picture on my phone.
“So Megan doesn’t abduct me?” I ask wryly.
Maple stops so fast I nearly plow into her. Our bodies are pressed together as she tips her head back and purrs, “No, so I can properly thank you for saving me up there.”
My fist finds her hair, tangling in the strands and gripping her tight. “You didn’t need saving.”
Her eyes practically catch fire as she stares up at me. Then she grabs my hand and yanks me down the path to the Jeep. She hops inside and waits impatiently for me to get in on the driver side. I barely get my seat belt on and the vehicle backed out of the parking space when she pounces. Her fingers fly to my shorts, pulling the zipper down and shoving her hand in my boxers. I bark out my surprise, but that’s nothing compared to when she leans over and takes my semi-hard erection into her hot mouth.
“Jesus, Maple. I can’t drive.”
She pops her mouth off of me and I miss the heat immediately. In two seconds flat, I’m fully erect and ready to beg to get her mouth back again. “Get us home quick, Holt.”
I swallow hard and grip the steering wheel like there’s black ice on the roads. She smiles like the devil, right before she slides my hard length back into her mouth. Her tongue swirls on the tip, her teeth lightly graze the underside of the head, then her slick lips smooth down the shaft. Her head begins to bob up and down faster, her fingers getting in on the action and creating a tighter grip. Goose bumps line every inch of my skin.
“Oh my God,” I breathe, taking a right turn entirely too fast and worrying for a second that I’ll tip the fucking Jeep. “This can’t be safe.”
“Den uh bedda et uth hum,” she says around my cock.
I end up California-stopping two stop signs and somehow don’t get pulled over. I’m also sweating and breathing so hard I’m afraid I’ll pass out. Finally, I see the driveway to the cabin. If I can just hold out another few seconds, I’ll make it home in time to truly enjoy this.
Maple must know we’re close because she grabs my balls and gives them a squeeze. I fold over, my chest hitting the steering wheel and setting off the horn. A shiver wracks me and I know I can’t hold on much longer.
“Maple!” I bark, only to feel her laughing around my dick.
I shove the Jeep in park, the back end of my vehicle still in the road, but I can’t go any further. I hope to God our neighbors aren’t out for a walk in broad daylight right now.
My fingers bury themselves inside her hair as I lean my head back and just fucking breathe. She moves up and down my length faster, humming her own pleasure as she goes. My hips, no longer glued to the seat in order to press the gas pedal and brakes, lift, shoving my cock to the back of her throat. She lets out a choking noise and I quickly force them back down. Jesus. I can’t control…any…of this.
“Maple,” I warn. My fingers tighten into fists in her strands and I try to pull her off me, but she refuses, only gliding up and down faster and harder.
A summer lightning strike detonates in my gut and the world disappears. It’s just Maple’s mouth and hands and the utter torturous pleasure traveling from the base of my spine to my cock. The first spasm hits and I feel the warm liquid shoot into her mouth. To my surprise and shock and intense pleasure, she swallows me down like I’m the last feast before she dies. The spasms keep coming and I know I’m flooding her mouth. I should pull out. I should have made her wait until we got back to the privacy of the cabin. There’s a lot of things I should have done, but I don’t do any of them except ride this out and swear my lifelong loyalty and anything else this goddess of a woman might want.
I don’t say any of that out loud of course, but I’m thinking it. Over and over again as I try to catch my breath. My fingers finally release her hair and she pops up. I pry one eyelid open to see her swipe the back of her hand across her red, swollen lips. There’s an impish grin on her face. Her hair is a mess and she’s utterly beautiful.
“I love you, Maple Thatcher,” I declare in my head.
Except it’s not in my head.
It’s out loud.