Chapter 9
Meleck
Wren is fucking beautiful.
Sitting here with her mouth open slightly, her soft ass lips pouty, and her eyes fixated on me, she’s breathtaking and I want to kiss her pretty ass again. Honestly, I’ve been itching to taste her lips since the first time our eyes met and being this close with her has only intensified my itch.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I tell her as my hand caresses the side of her pretty face.
“You think?” she says as she smirks. “You’re kind of handsome yourself but I think you look better with this.
” While still smirking, she removes my Jaxson from her head then places it on mine.
After tilting the brim up with her finger, she leans in closer.
“This is for letting me borrow that,” she tells me before softly kissing my lips.
Her tongue slides into my mouth and I’m back to devouring her mouth.
Right as I feel her melting into me, there’s taps at the window. Abruptly, our kiss breaks and she turns around quickly. Both of us see Amara peering into the window, smiling.
“My bad,” she exclaims as soon as Wren lets her window down. “I thought something was wrong but I see it’s not.” She grins.
“Go back in the house, girl. We’re coming,” Wren says. She’s trying to be stern but I hear the playfulness in her tone.
“Take your time,” Amara says before turning and rushing back into the house.
While shaking her head, Wren turns back to face me. “I better get in there and warm this food. We can finish this after dinner.” She winks then climbs her sexy ass out of the truck.
I smile too damn hard as I watch her walk into the house. I definitely will finish or start something with her after dinner later.
When she’s inside, I get out and grab the bags from the hardware store.
I take them all to the barn then grab a wheelbarrow from the tool shed.
Using it, I take the wood from the bed of the truck to the backyard.
There’s an axe in the shed too so I use it to split a few logs for the fireplace in the attic.
I’ll start rewiring tomorrow. This evening, I take the next hour and a half to check and measure the voltage output of all the outlets in the barn. Once they are all checked, I hit my unc.
“What’s up, nephew?” he answers.
“Checking in. I’ll be back at The Phoxes Den Thursday. I can bring your truck,” I tell him. I appreciate his help but I’m not big on taking handouts.
“You landed somewhere?” he asks.
“Yeah. I’m helping out at a ranch off Harris Way.”
“Warren Harris’ old place. His daughter runs it, the one who makes those soaps and jellies,” he says.
“Yeah. I’m here.”
“I’m not mad at ya. She’s a beauty,” he says and I most definitely agree. “What you doing out there?”
“Mostly electrical work.”
“Sounds like you’re settling in.”
“I’m definitely settling in, so you can get your truck back.”
“I tell ya what. If you can get Foxy running, you can drive her,” he says, referring to his prized possession, his red and white 1984 Dodge D/W Series pickup truck. It was his first truck and he’s had it my entire life.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Just needs a tune-up and an oil change. I haven’t had time to work on her in a few months. Come by the house, say hi to your aunt, and work on Foxy.”
“Will Auntie be home tomorrow morning?”
“Where else she gon’ be?” he asks with a deep chuckle. “She’ll be there.”
“’Preciate it, Unc. I’ll be there around eleven.”
“I’ll let her know,” he says before ending the call.
After placing my cell back into my pocket, I put all the supplies in the back of the barn then walk out.
I trek through the snow to the main house.
When I stop on the back porch to grab the wood I cut, I hear taps on the window to the kitchen.
I look up and see Amara’s smiling face. She steps away and opens the door.
“I was just about to come out and get you. We’re ready to eat,” she says.
“Bet. Let me take this up to the attic and wash my hands,” I tell her.
“Okay but hurry, please,” she says then rolls her eyes. “Wren’s not letting us eat till you come in.”
“Give me five,” I say and she nods before quickly shutting the door.
I grab the wood then practically jog up the steps.
Amara has a way of making me want to keep her smiling, just like her sister.
So as quickly as I can, I place three logs into the small fireplace and put the remaining three next to it.
Then I thoroughly wash my hands and face before heading back outside.
Before I can raise my hand to knock on the front door, Amara’s friend opens it.
I’m clearly one of the topics of their teenage conversation. Her big ass smile and tiny giggles as I walk in are a dead ass giveaway. It’s further confirmed when she rushes over to Amara and damn near squeals.
“I figured you were in the house,” Wren says as soon as I enter the kitchen.
“Why is that?” I ask.
“I heard your little cheerleaders. I think Kimmie has a crush.”
“As long as you have a crush, I’m good,” I tell her when I’m closer.
“I’m a little bit too old for a crush. I’m a grown woman who’s attracted and intrigued,” she admits before licking her lips and my damn dick jumps. Her eyes lock in on mine, and when I take another step closer, they quickly dart past me. “Wash your hands so we can eat,” she says.
Fuck! Interrupted again.
Amari and her homegirl just walked into the kitchen. They whisk past me and rush to the sink. While they wash up, Wren removes the sandwiches from the grill pan on the stove and places them all on a large plate.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Wren states.
For you and this food.
“Yeah, ’cause this stew is so good. It’s my favorite,” Amara announces. “Y’all sit down. We’ll fix it,” she tells me and her friend.
We sit and I watch as Wren and Amara work together to cut our grilled sandwiches in half, fill red bowls with the delicious smelling stew, then place the sandwich halves onto small green plates.
“She loves Christmas,” her friend utters. “Even more than me and that’s a lot ’cause me and Christmas go together real bad.”
“What you said?” Amara asks with a grin, overhearing her friend. “I know you not talking 'bout me.”
“Girl,” her friend replies. “You already know.”
After Amara and Wren place our food on the table, they grab theirs, then our drinks, cold water bottles.
Once they are seated, I say grace and we start eating.
The conversation is light over dinner. We all enjoy the savory chicken and potato stew and buttery grilled cheeses.
I kill my first bowl along with half of my grilled cheese then smash another.
“I told you it was good.” Amara smirks before taking her empty bowl and plate to the sink.
After starting dish water, she grabs her friend and Wren’s bowl and plates. She takes mine about five minutes later when I’m done. Her friend joins her at the sink and they quickly clean the dishes and counters.
“You want something else to drink?” Wren asks before standing.
“Nah. I’m straight.”
“Damn. You gon’ let me drink alone, cowboy?” she asks and I don’t waste any time answering her truthfully.
“I don’t want you to do anything without me,” I say and she flashes me her pretty ass smile.
“Perfect answer.” She walks over to her refrigerator and grabs two Bleu Mountains.
She passes both to me and I twist off the tops.
She grabs one of the bottles and clanks it to mine.
“To tonight’s possibilities,” she utters before strutting out of the kitchen.
Like a damn German Shepherd in heat, I stand and follow her fine ass into the living room.
She sits on the large leather sectional and I walk to the fireplace.
After adjusting the logs, I join her. When I sit next to her, she crosses her legs and rests her leg on mine.
For a moment, we just sit close like this and I take her all in: her sweet scent, comforting vibe, and pretty face.
Real shit, I could sit like this with her on me all damn night.
Taking advantage of our closeness, I place my hand on her thigh and gently caress it. I feel her body inch a little closer then she rests her head on my shoulder. After inhaling deeply, she sighs.
“I love your smell,” she says.
“I’ve been out in the barn.”
“I know,” she says before inhaling me again. “But I like it. It’s the perfect combination of you, some cologne I get hints of and manliness. I love it.”
“Well, I like your smell better though,” I say and she lifts her head. As soon as our eyes meet, Amara interrupts.
“What y’all doing?” she asks from behind us.
“Chilling and trying to figure out what’s up with this sweater,” Wren says, then she sits up. She leans over to the cluttered table. “What are you going to do with this string of lights?”
The table in front of the sectional is filled with a red sweater, a white sweater, lights, ornaments, a glue gun, scissors, and so much damn glitter.
Amara and her friend round the sectional then get down on the floor.
It looks like a big ass mess to me but the two of them seem to have a handle on it.
“I think I’m going to make a tree out of the lights and add ornaments on the lights,” Amara says.
“On which one though? The red or white?” Wren asks.
“I don’t kn—” Amara begins but her friend cuts her off.
“The red for sure. The white is going to get dirty,” she says.
“Me? Dirty! Girl, never! I think the lights will show up better on the white,” Amara says.
“Are they going to be on?” I ask, my curiosity inadvertently causing me to jump into their convo.
“On?” Wren asks.
“No, but can they be?” Amara says after sitting up.
“Yeah, I can hook that up for you,” I say.
“Real shit?” Amara exclaims.
“Amara,” Wren scolds. “You and this cursing has to stop.”
“Sorry,” she utters, barely audible. I had to watch her lips to hear. “But can you? That would be so dope. I want two strings then,” she says in an elevated, excited tone.
“You need this tomorrow?”
“No, Thursday.”
“Bet. Leave out the lights you want to use, and in the morning, I’ll make a battery pack and hook them up.”
“I’m gonna have the best ugly sweater,” Amara boasts.
“Can you do some for me too?” Amara’s friend asks.
“Umm, no. Twin Day is tomorrow, not Thursday,” Amara snaps then smiles when she sees her friend’s face drop. “I’m just playing. We can do yours too. You can use my red sweater. We’re going to kill it.”
Wren’s arm latches around mine then she says, “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“To her, to me, it’s everything. Christmas is such a big holiday for her.
It was my dad’s favorite. She was ten when we lost him and our last Christmas with him was one of our biggest. Deep down, I think he knew he was leaving us, so he went all out.
So thank you again.” Wren leans in and kisses me softly with her pillowy lips.
The love and tenderness in her voice tugs at something in me. After planting a kiss on her forehead, this time I simply say, “You’re welcome. I’m glad to help.”