11. Chance
11
CHANCE
I plucked the economy sized box of condoms off the pharmacy shelf and tossed it in the handle basket. It landed on top of the deodorant and body wash. Every bachelor’s staples.
Days had gone by since I showed up at Mandy’s house to cook her breakfast and had a sex-a-thon instead. Since then, we’d been flipping back and forth between her house and mine. Thankfully, Pepper had a lot of late shifts at Lunar Brewery, and Mandy and I took advantage of having the place mostly to ourselves. Sometimes we fucked—a lot of the time—but sometimes we just curled together, on the bed or the couch, and talked about everything, future and past. I taught Mandy my recipe for cheesy grits. Mandy showed me a house on Zillow, not quite her dream house, but something close.
“Three bedrooms,” I said. “Does that mean?—”
“I hope?” She pointed at a tree in the front yard. “A tire swing right there, and maybe a slide?”
I found myself smiling in the pharmacy aisle. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, but…two kids, I thought, with my hair and her smile. That would be fine with me. Perfect, even.
Spying the digital clock above the pharmacy counter, I cursed. I only had a few minutes left on my lunch break and I still hadn’t picked up any food. Hating to leave Mandy alone for any period of time—both due to my inability to keep my hands off her and due to concerns about Walter returning—I decided to grab something quick and eat it in the garage.
The condoms shifted in my basket and I hesitated. Should I grab another box? The rate we were going, I should invest in the rubber supplier.
“Chance McCallister,” a stern female voice barked.
I snapped my gaze from the condom display to a tall woman with styled, wavy gray hair. She’d somehow snuck up on me and was standing beside me. Despite the ninety-two-degree temperature outside, she wore gray slacks—without a single wrinkle—and a pink cardigan sweater set.
“Mrs. Foster,” I said, inwardly cringing. This woman had made my sophomore year hell in high school. She had never approved of me, and no matter how many tests I aced, I’d still ended up barely passing English literature.
“I was sorry to hear about Ray,” she barked, her mouth pulling down.
Did she disapprove of my father dying or of having to offer me her condolences? “Thank you,” I answered, not really caring how she meant it.
“You’ve really turned over a new leaf,” she continued. “I can see it. You finally grew up. Stopped all that fighting nonsense. Learned to put your God-given life to use.”
“Um, thank you.” I had no clue how to respond. These statements weren’t really compliments, but I didn’t feel like arguing.
She plunked on a pair of silver-framed glasses and studied me from head to toe. “The Navy did a good job with you. And you’ve come home and found an honest job.”
Like I hadn’t had an honest job before I’d left? I’d never been a thief, or an entitled kid expecting the world to cater to me. I’d worked long hours in the garage.
“I’ve always loved working for the Loomises,” I responded, racking my brain for a way to end this bizarre conversation. “They’re good people, and George taught me so much.”
Her gaze slid to my basket and her lips thinned. “Yes, well, you and Mandy have certainly picked up where you left off.”
Spots of warmth burned my cheeks but rather than feeling embarrassed, I mostly wanted to laugh. Thirty years old, and I felt like a teenager getting caught having sex. “Yes. We’ve fortunately been able to work things out.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She snatched her glasses off and let them dangle by the pearl beading around her neck. “You’re the type we want to stay in Springwell.”
Since when?
“You’ll be a good role model for the next generation of kids.” Her blue eyes sharpened. “You graduated high school, joined the Navy, served our country, and came home to find employment.” Her chin dipped. “Your mother would be proud. Welcome home.”
I snapped my jaw closed at her retreating back. What the heck was that?
I strolled out from the last bay in the garage and spied Mrs. Winchester—a beloved Springwell resident who used to work in the mayor’s office before she retired—getting out of her twenty-year-old Cadillac. She plucked a plate off the passenger seat and headed toward me, her arthritic gait making me wince for her poor knees.
First yesterday in the pharmacy, now today. Had I become a magnet for the matriarchs of this town? A waft of chocolate hit me, wiping all thoughts from my mind.
“I pulled them out of the oven right before I left the house.”
“They smell delicious.” I accepted the plate of brownies shoved into my mostly clean hands. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble.” My mouth watered despite the protest. I hadn’t had an honest-to-God home-baked treat since I’d left Springwell.
Mrs. Winchester swished her wrinkled hand. “It was nothing—what you did is worth more than an hour or two of my time.”
I frowned. “What I did?”
“For my Arthur, for his Caddy. Those crooks in Columbus were going to overcharge him two thousand dollars.” Mrs. Winchester clutched the cross at her throat, her Southern voice so scandalized, I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning. Her husband had taken their Cadillac to a garage in Columbus when he’d visited his brother for a week. He’d busted a taillight, which should have been no big deal, but those lousy mechanics had tried to sell him a new muffler. If Mrs. Winchester hadn’t insisted he get a second opinion, they’d have gouged him good.
“We’re on a fixed income,” she whispered as if imparting a secret. “We can’t afford to go throwing money around.”
“Your husband knows he married a smart, shrewd woman,” I said, not sure how to wrap up this impromptu thank you. I had cars waiting for service, and if I could manage to keep my hands off Mandy, we might actually finish the ones we’d promised to complete today.
“Married fifty-four years,” Mrs. Winchester crowed, her short white hair glowing in the sun, matching the beaming smile on her face.
“You have any more trouble with the Cadillac, you know where to find me.” I fished a brownie square from beneath the plastic wrap. “Thank you for these.” I groaned at the warm chocolate bursting over my tongue. “Oh and hey, while I have you here…I was thinking you might be able to help me with something.” Mrs. Winchester knew every family in town—maybe she could answer some questions about my dad and his brother.
She straightened up proudly. “Well, of course, honey—I’m happy to help if I can.”
“I was going through some of my dad’s old papers, and I found a stack of letters he’d gotten back in the nineties. It looked…well, it looked like they’d been sent by his brother.”
Mrs. Winchester nodded. “That makes sense. I believe the admiral was stationed out in the Middle East back then.”
My pulse kicked up. “So Admiral Anderson was my dad’s brother.”
“Why, of course he was.” Mrs. Winchester looked surprised that I was even asking. “Didn’t you know that?”
“Ma’am, I didn’t even know my dad had a brother until I found those letters.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh…oh my. I knew there had been a falling out back…hmm, I suppose it would have been when you and your brothers were just babies. But I always thought they must have patched it up eventually. Do you mean to say your father never mentioned his brother?”
“No, ma’am. Not to any of us.”
She tsked, shaking her head. “Well, isn’t that just the saddest thing I ever heard. And they used to be so close, too! I’d say Peter was just about the proudest big brother I’ve ever seen. And little Ray just adored him, followed him like a shadow. I think I might have an old picture of them tucked away somewhere. Would you like me to see if I can find it?”
“Th-that would be great,” I managed to say, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” It would be nice to have another little piece of Dad—and of the uncle I’d never known I had. Even if I never found out the full story of what happened there, it would still be something to hold on to. Maybe even something to make me feel I understood my dad a little better.
“No trouble at all,” Mrs. Winchester insisted.
Mandy strolled out of the center bay, wiping her hands on a rag. Her curls rioted around her head, and she had smudges of grease on her beautiful face.
“Hello, Mrs. Winchester.” Mandy stopped beside me, her head barely reaching my shoulder. Her lips twitched as she eyed the plate of sweets. “Thank you for bringing brownies. I can’t wait to dig in.”
“You’re welcome, dear.” Mrs. Winchester puffed up and smiled wide. “I just wanted Chance to know how much I appreciate his honesty and hard work.”
“Brownies are the perfect way to show it.” Mandy motioned to the garage behind us. “I hate to be rude, but I need Chance to help me.”
“Oh, of course.” Mrs. Winchester patted me on my arm. “I’ll be by in a few days to pick up the plate—and that photo, too, if I can dig it up.”
“Sounds good. Thanks again.” I itched to snatch another brownie, but I resisted. We only had another hour left before we officially closed, and I had a whole meal planned for dinner—then I’d have Mandy for dessert.
“What was that she was saying about a picture?” she asked as I followed her back inside. I told her about the letters we’d found and the information I’d uncovered so far. She was a great audience, eyes going wide at all the surprise twists.
She opened her mouth to say something, but a heavy bass beat cut Mandy off mid-thought. She hurried to the bay door with me at her heels, just in time to catch a souped-up Honda Civic with the windows down, bombing down Main Street with the radio turned up.
“Damn kids,” Mandy said, but she was smiling.
It made me think of something else that had been playing on my mind lately. “Feels like just yesterday, that’d have been me. Now, I’ve got Mrs. Winchester baking me brownies.”
“That surprises you?” Mandy cocked a brow.
“Her baking doesn’t surprise me. But baking for me ?”
“It’s a cycle,” Mandy said. “You’re a cute little baby, then you’re ‘damn kids.’ Then you grow up, and you either find your place or you don’t. But it looks like you’re doing it.”
“I guess maybe I am.” I grinned, surprised. I really was. How had that happened? I hadn’t done much, just what came naturally, but sometime between me landing on my father’s doorstep and this moment, Springwell society had opened its arms. Not all the way, but the process had started—waves and hellos, less gossip, more baked goods. They’d stopped seeing the angry kid who got into fights. Instead, they made space for the man who had served honorably in the military—just like my uncle before me, apparently. Some folks might never forgive me all the way—Mrs. Lewis sprang to mind—but I could have a life here, if I wanted to stay. I could build that life Mandy had hinted at, full of kids and tire swings and new memories to treasure.
I wanted her dream too. It felt like home. I’d needed distance to see that and time to grow up, but now I was ready. I could dream her dream.
I glanced over at Mandy, bent over a truck. She was humming as she worked, bobbing her head to the beat. She’d been right, I thought, to let me go twelve years ago. I wasn’t ready back then to be the man she needed. I’d been too restless, too angry. She deserved more. I could give her that now, and I would. I’d give her everything.
The shower’s hot water thundered against my back. I drove my fingers into Mandy’s wet hair and wound the locks tight around my hands.
She moaned and I cursed at the vibrations dancing along my dick buried deep in her mouth. On her knees in front of me, her hazel eyes lifted to mine, and they burned so hot, I grit my teeth to push back the tingling sensation building way too fast.
“I want to come inside you,” I ground out, pulling her hair.
“Umm-umm,” she murmured around me, grabbing the backs of my thighs and flattening her tongue along the underside of my dick.
“Christ,” I cursed, driving my feet into the ceramic tub to keep from toppling over. “Suck me hard.”
Her cheeks indented and she pulled on me to the point of pain.
Moaning, I threw my head back. “Again.”
Her lips stroked up the full length of me and her tongue encircled my head. Just shy of freeing me completely, she plunged down my entire cock, then sucked hard as she scraped her teeth lightly on the way back up.
The tingling building in my balls intensified. “Enough.” Gripping her hair even tighter, I stopped her.
A loud pop echoed in the narrow shower space.
I clenched my fists to keep from coming. “Just for that…” I snatched a condom off the soap dish and ripped the foil open, “you only get to come once instead of twice.”
The saucy grin she threw me let me know I had to work on my threats. Whatever. I’d think of a better punishment later. Lifting her up, I pinned her against the back wall, out of the water’s reach. Her legs wrapped around my waist and in one swift motion, I drove inside her.
She cried out and threw her head back, hitting the tile. “Chance.”
Adjusting her position, I grabbed her hips and pulled out to the tip, then drove back in. The tingling sensation continued to build in my balls, and I thrust into her again and again, setting up an almost violent rhythm.
“More,” she moaned, clawing into my shoulders as she held on.
Her breasts bounced with every lunge, her nipples hypnotizing me with their sway. The sight was so erotic I had to stop staring in a bid to hold off the orgasm barreling through me.
“Touch yourself,” I commanded, needing her to climax with me.
Releasing my shoulder, she inched her hand between us, and played with her clit.
“Damn, that’s sexy.” My pace increased.
Hot, tight walls gripped me to the point of strangling just as she cried out.
Once, twice, I rammed home, then held her tight against me as my orgasm ripped through me.
I wasn’t sure how long we slumped there, just breathing, but I eventually realized I was crushing her against the tile. Moving back, I pulled out as she dropped her legs to stand.
She grabbed onto the ceramic and grinned, her smile so satisfied I wanted to beat my chest caveman style.
“Take as long as you’d like to finish up.” I kissed her quickly, then swished past the shower curtain and got rid of the condom. “I’ll start dinner.”
After throwing on a T-shirt and athletic shorts, I padded to the kitchen in bare feet. I snagged a carrot out of the bag and chomped on it as I pulled together the items I needed. On the counter by the microwave, Mandy’s phone buzzed, and the screen woke up to display an incoming text.
I knew I shouldn’t look, but of course, curiosity overruled my decency. I looked.
Weasel: You still owe the rest of your payment. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.
I snapped the carrot in half to keep from destroying her phone. The text shortcut offered me the choice between Reply, Delete, or open the full messaging app. My finger bounced between the options, but my rage made me stab the Delete button.
The water shut off in the bathroom, and I hustled to move the bag of potatoes to the cutting board. Getting into a rhythm, I chopped through the pile and tossed them into a pot of water.
“Wow. Do you hate potatoes or something?”
I jerked my head up and found Mandy in the doorway in one of my T-shirts. “Huh?”
She pointed. “You’re hatcheting and stabbing them.”
Probably because I kept picturing Walter’s face and the new, stupid plan that wouldn’t leave me alone. “I was thinking,” I said, before my conscience could stop me. I washed my hands and moved the pot to the stove. “You’ve been working so hard lately; you’ve earned a day off.”
Mandy blinked and moved next to me. “I have Sundays off.”
“Yeah, but when was the last time you had a day off during the week?” I grabbed the package of boneless chicken breasts and worked on slicing off the fat. “I can handle the workload on my own tomorrow. You can stay home and balance those books you’ve been complaining you have no time to do. Or even go out with Pepper.” I didn’t give a damn as long as she didn’t show up at the garage.
My conscience pricked, and I hesitated. I shouldn’t be talking to Walter without telling her first. She’d demanded my promise, and I’d given it freely. Still, if she knew what I was planning, she might say no. Or worse, she might insist on coming along. Just this once, for her safety?—
Mandy’s arms wrapped around my waist. She snuggled against my back and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re so sweet.”
Not really. Guilt wormed inside me.
“I would love to catch up on ordering supplies too.” She kissed my spine. “And Pepper’s been hounding me for a mani-pedi day.”
Whatever that was. “Then it’s settled.” I positioned the chicken inside a glass oven dish and sprinkled some seasonings on top before adding one more layer of trickery to round out my lie. “After dinner, I’ll drive you home. I insist you sleep in.” That way she wouldn’t inadvertently stumble onto me confronting Walter if she went down Main Street on her way back to her house. “You shouldn’t be bothered by my alarm.”
“If you’re sure,” she said, still holding me tight.
I frowned. I’d never been less sure of anything in my life. But then an image of Walter leering as he dominated her against the wall flashed through my mind. “Absolutely.”
That jackass needed to learn that Mandy had someone in her corner. I would do everything I could not to provoke a fight, but I wouldn’t back down from one if it came to that.