Chapter 9
Lanie
Iwas surprised how much fun I was having with Celia.
Once you got her out of her comfort zone, she was much more relaxed.
I’d watched the stiffness melt away from her spine a little more every time Arthur came bounding over with his ball, wanting her to throw it.
She didn’t bat an eyelash when the pup splashed us with mud.
And she seemed… dare I say excited about her tree.
“You’re going to need some ornaments and lights,” I said as we walked back to her building with the tree and the dog.
“Oh yeah, where do I get those?” she asked.
“Any major store, but they’ll definitely be picked over this late in the season,” I said. “I have a bunch though if you want to borrow some. I didn’t put up my tree this year because I was going to spend the holiday with Amy and John.”
I shoved down the twinge of sadness that I wouldn’t be spending the holiday with my bestie.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. You can babysit Arthur while I go to my place and pick them up.”
She stopped dead on the sidewalk. “What?”
“I can’t bring a dog to my apartment, my landlady lives in the building and she’s nosy as shit. I swear she spends her entire day staring out the window spying on people.”
“I don’t really know how to take care of a dog,” she said. Her eyes darted to the side like she was looking for an escape.
“Okay, how about we go to my apartment together and then you and Arthur can wait in the car while I run inside?” I suggested. “It won’t take me long, I know exactly where the ornaments are.”
“That sounds better.”
When it was time to go, Celia took one look at my battered old Toyota Carolla and insisted on taking me in her car even if it meant getting dog hair in the back seat.
She drove a fancy late model Lexus that probably cost more than I made in a year, but I had to admit it drove like a dream.
I could scarcely feel the road as we made our way to the working class side of town.
It was funny how different things were when you drove a few miles away from the high-end neighborhoods.
When we pulled up in front of my apartment, Celia put the car in park and turned to me with an expression that could only be described as horror.
“You live here?” she said. “It doesn’t look safe.”
“It’s not bad,” I shrugged. “The rent is cheap – well cheaper – in this neighborhood than the close-in neighborhoods, and there’s a bus stop on the next block that takes me right to work.”
I could see her struggling to keep her opinion to herself. I tried to see my neighborhood from her perspective. It was definitely run down, but also not the worse part of the city. It wasn’t like there was trash laying around or gang members hanging out on the corner.
“I’ll be back in five,” I assured her, getting out of the car.
As I walked up to my apartment I saw my landlady watching me out of her window.
Giving her a little wave, I climbed the stairs headed inside.
I made quick work of grabbing a box of ornaments out of the closet along with a shopping bag filled with lights.
When I returned to the car, Arthur was pressing his nose against the window, leaving a trail of drool on the glass while he and Celia watched me approach.
“You guys okay?” I asked Celia as I got back in the car after stowing the ornaments in the trunk.
“He was whining,” she said. “I don’t know why.”
I turned in my seat to give Arthur some scritches. “Did you miss me, baby? Aww, I missed you too.”
Arthur rubbed against me happily. When I looked back at Celia she was giving me a strange look.
“What?”
She shook her head. “Nothing.”
I needed to work on some of my VA projects, so after depositing the Christmas tree and ornaments inside Celia’s condo, I headed back to Amy’s place for a while.
My temporary neighbor had promised to make dinner, so while I was working I baked up a batch of Tollhouse cookies for dessert. They weren’t fancy, but they were good.
As I took Arthur for a quick walk before dinner, I wondered if Celia and I were going to have sex tonight.
I couldn’t say why I put the brakes on things last night, but if I had to guess it was because she’d somehow defaulted to making things seem almost transactional or something.
I hoped that wasn’t going to happen again.
Celia clearly had some kind of trauma in her past, but I’d seen for myself that she was able to relax and have fun.
I just needed to figure out how to keep her in that space.
As for the BDSM thing, I wasn’t freaked out about trying new things in the bedroom. With my paltry level of experience, most things would be new to me anyway. I’d never been restrained or spanked, but I’d wondered how it would feel when I saw it in a movie or read about it in a book.
No, I definitely wouldn’t mind exploring with Celia. But I didn’t want her to be checked out. I didn’t want her to adopt that neutral, emotionless face and voice. I wanted her there with me, if that made sense. I just wasn’t sure whether she could do it.
I also wasn’t sure why it was so important to me. After all, this would just be sex. A holiday fling. Except it already felt like more.
My hand flew up to my mouth as the words came into my mind. Oh my God, what was wrong with me? Was I catching feelings for a woman I just met?
Although if I was being totally honest, I’d have to admit that I fell in love with her the minute I laid eyes on her. It made no sense, but there it was. I just needed to be careful that I didn’t do something stupid, like profess my love and beg Celia to stay with me forever.
Promptly at six o’clock, Arthur and I knocked on Celia’s door. Well, I knocked, the dog just sat there panting excitedly. He’d become fond of her already, I could tell.
Celia opened the door wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing this morning before I made her change to go to the park with Arthur. I wondered if she owned any jeans or yoga pants.
“Hey.”
She gave me a quick hug, then patted Arthur on the head. “Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready.”
I expected her to make something fancy, like coq a vin or lobster, but to my surprise she’d made pasta.
“This is my grandmother’s sauce,” she told me, pouring it over the spaghetti noodles. “Her mother used to make it in the Old Country and Grandma taught us.”
“You’re Italian?” I asked in surprise. With her blonde hair and pale skin she looked Nordic more than anything.
“Only one fourth,” she said. “I’m mostly Swedish.”
Ah, that made sense.
“I’m a mutt,” I told her. “I’ve always thought I should do a DNA test to see what I find out about my lineage, but I couldn’t justify spending the money.”
“Don’t call yourself a mutt,” she said fiercely. “You’re beautiful.”
I looked at Celia, surprised by her intensity. I was tempted to laugh off her words but decided not to. I wasn’t ugly or anything, but I definitely had that ‘girl next door’ vibe going on so I hadn’t gotten a lot of compliments about my looks.
“Thank you.”
“Good girl,” she murmured approvingly.
And damned if that didn’t turn me on. Who knew I had a praise kink? Based on the way Celia was watching me, I was pretty sure she’d picked up on my reaction, although she didn’t comment on it.
Desperate to lighten the mood, I gave her one of my sunniest smiles.
“After we eat this delicious meal we are going to put on the Charlie Brown Christmas special and decorate that adorable little tree of yours.”
After that, we’d see what happened.