10. Chapter 10
Homey don’t play that.
I stand in bewildered silence for minutes. What the actual fuck just happened?
Through the door, I can hear Juliette’s footsteps stomp across the floorboards so hard the cottage rattles. Raising my hand to knock on the door, I lower it, raise it again, and finally let it fall to my side.
Maybe she needs some time to cool down. No, she definitely needs time to cool down.
An angry Juliette McNamara was a force. A beautiful, captivating force with aqua-blue eyes that seemed to flash with a life of their own. My cock grows an inch in my pants, and I glare down at my crotch.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask him, but he’s unashamed. “Read the room, man. It’s not going to happen.”
But why? That was the question that came from both my big and little heads. I was just trying to be honest with Juliette before we started so there weren’t any unreasonable expectations afterward. But I’d inadvertently gone and insulted her.
I stare at the door for another minute, willing it to open. Of course it doesn’t, so I turn and head next door to cottage five. Once inside, I go straight to my bedroom and flop onto the comfortable bed.
Goddamn, she was sexy when she got riled up… the pink in her cheeks… the fire in her gorgeous eyes. I like a woman with a backbone, and Juliette definitely has that. But she’s also sweet and thoughtful, and I like that side of her too. She’s easy to be with. It’s almost effortless.
The woman next door is on my mind when I fall into a restless sleep. Two hours later, I wake up feeling like shit, but I pull my carcass from the bed and take a shower. My stomach makes its needs known, so I dress and head for the dinner restaurant with a renewed sense of purpose.
Maybe she’ll show up for dinner. It’s a completely delusional thought, given her anger earlier, but I can’t help but wish. My breath catches each time a blonde enters the dining room, and then it puffs out in disappointment when it’s not her.
I have no idea what I even eat. By the time the waiter brings my dessert, my thoughts are still on Juliette. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything?
Plastering a smile I don’t feel onto my face, I say, “My dinner partner was unable to make it. Would it be possible to get her food delivered to her cottage?”
“Of course, sir. What would she like?” He whips out a slim menu on a small black board and passes it to me. I read over the selection of steak, chicken, vegetarian pasta, and a variety of seafood dishes. Fuck. I don’t know.
Glancing down at my own plate, I assume I had the shrimp since there are discarded tails there, though I don’t remember eating them. I have the impression it was good though.
“Let’s do the shrimp and cheese grits. Italian dressing on the salad.”
“Excellent. And for dessert?”
My gaze drops to the bottom of the menu. “The seven-layer chocolate cake.” Sweet and decadent, just like the woman I can’t stop thinking about.
“And will you be taking it with you, or would you like us to deliver it?”
More than anything, I want to take it to her, but she might very well dump it over my head if I arrive on her doorstep.
“You can deliver it to cottage four. And ask whoever delivers it not to mention that I ordered it. Just tell them to say they’re bringing it as a courtesy since she didn’t show up for her reservation. ”
Juliette will see right through that flimsy excuse, but maybe she’ll still eat it if she doesn’t know for sure. She needs to eat something.
Once I’m back at my cabin, I sit on the couch and pull up the airline’s number on my phone. I stare at it. And stare at it some more, my finger hovering over the call button.
Tomorrow is Wednesday, the day I should be flying off this island. I should just hit that button and ask the airline to change my flight. The ringing of my phone startles me, and I bobble the damn thing before catching it. Turning it over, I see that it’s my mother calling.
“Hey, Ma.”
“What’s wrong, honey?”
My mother, ladies and gentlemen. Two words from my mouth, and she knows something’s up.
I can’t exactly tell her about Juliette because what is there to tell?
Hey, Ma. I’m at a swingers’ resort, and I saw this gorgeous woman who made me jack off on my porch, and then we had two meals together before going cloud gazing.
We saw a sexy bunny, and by the way, have you ever seen two ladybug clouds going at it in the sky?
Completely fascinating. Anyhoo, I kissed her, and for the first time in a long while, I thought about more.
But she’s a swinger, and you know homey don’t play that.
When I tried to be honest with her, she got pissed off and kicked me out of her cottage, and I’m not even sure what I did wrong.
But I can’t get her off my mind, so I sent food to her room.
Because I’m worried about this woman I’ve known for two days. What’s up with you?
I scratch that well-formed response and go with my other truth. “I’m being traded, Ma. To Dallas.”
There wasn’t even the hint of hesitation. “Okay, so we’ll move to Dallas. I’m tired of all this cold weather anyway.”
Let me just say for the record: I. Love. My. Mother.
“What about your job?” I ask.
“I’m sure there are abusive assholes in Texas too. I’ll find a shelter or facility there that’s in need of a good counselor.”
I can’t help the burst of laughter from my lips. “I love it when you cuss, Ma.”
“I can curse,” she insisted in her sweet voice. “Just last week, I said the s-word when I stubbed my toe.”
“Oh nooo! Not the dreaded s-word!”
“Not everyone can be a potty mouth like you,” she responds with a sniff. “And if I can’t find another job, I’ll just be a couch potato and live off my rich son.”
That makes me laugh again because she would never . “Nothing would make me happier than that. I’d love for you to retire and relax a bit.”
“I don’t want to retire. What I do makes me happy. You know,” she adds thoughtfully, “I just assumed you’d want me to move with you. If that’s not what—”
“Ma, of course I want you to move with me. We’re the Dream Team, remember?”
“In it together,” she replies like she always does, and I suddenly feel better about the move. If my mother can take this change in stride, then I need to suck it up and do the same.
“I’ll start looking for a place for Gramps.”
“Reno,” she says hesitantly, “I mean, it’s totally up to you but… well…”
I try not to sigh in exasperation. “Spit it out, Ma. What do you need?”
“Dallas is a bit bigger than Denver, so it might be nice to live in the suburbs instead of in the city. You know, a bit less hustle and bustle?”
“I’ll see what I can do. Would you like a house or another apartment?”
“Ooh, a house would be lovely. It would be nice not to have people only a wall away.”
“Wouldn’t you miss smelling Mrs. Garvey’s cooking?” I ask teasingly. My mom’s next door neighbor tends to use a lot of pungent ingredients in her recipes. Of course Ma never complains, but the amount of air freshener she uses daily could fumigate a small city .
“Getting away from that would be a plus,” she says with a laugh.
“Good. I’ll try to find us houses close to each other.”
“You know my budget, right?” she asks anxiously.
“I do.”
I’m already making plans to find her a nice fucking house and put a giant down payment on it so she’ll have a very minimal monthly payment. Somehow I’ll work it out with the realtor so my mom won't know.
I know better than to offer to buy her a house outright, even though doing so wouldn’t even put a dent in my wallet. Ma asserted her independence over two decades ago, and I’d never want to take that sense of accomplishment from her.
“Well, I’m getting excited now,” she says, her voice almost a squeal. “It will be a new adventure.”
“I hope so, Ma.”
“It will be,” she insists, strengthening into mom-mode. “You’re going to grab life by the horns and make it your own. If I can do it, you can too.”
Something relaxes inside my chest, and I nod even though she can’t see me. Switching hockey teams seems like nothing compared to what she went through when I was ten years old, and I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and do exactly what she said.
Grab life by the horns and make it my own. And I’m going to start by not leaving this island until I talk to Juliette McNamara and figure out where I went wrong.
“I love you,” I say as my heart fills with emotion.
“I love you too, son. Oh, and I saw Gramps earlier. He was having a good day and said, and I quote, ‘Tell Reno I hope he’s getting some vacation nookie while he’s there.’”
“That sounds like him,” I chuckle. “Give him my love.”
“I will.” She pauses before saying, “Anything else you need to talk about?”
“No, Ma. That’s all,” I fib. “I was worried about the trade, but you made me feel better.”
“That's my job,” she chirps happily. Nothing pleases her more than helping other people, especially her family. “We’ve got this, Reno.”
“Because we’re in it together.”
“We damn sure are, son.”
I hang up with a smile on my face. Hearing a noise from outside, I peek out the front blinds to find a uniformed woman walking up the path toward the cottage next door. She knocks, Juliette answers, and the employee hands her the tray.
After a brief conversation, the blonde beauty glances over to my cottage, and I let go of the blinds and dip into a crouch beneath the wooden sill. Shit. Did she see me? When I hear footsteps again, I risk another glance to see the employee walking back up the path… without the tray.
She accepted the food. A sense of victory passes over me, and like a fucking psycho stalker, I stare out the blinds for thirty minutes until I see Juliette’s door open again. She places the food tray on the porch table, and my heart turns into a bass drum when I see that the plates are empty.
Satisfied, I carry my phone into the bedroom, undress, and turn off all the lights except for the lamp beside the bed.
Since I can’t stop thinking of the woman next door, I pull up the reading app on my phone and look up Juli Mack.
As I settle against the headboard, I scroll through her books and finally select one that looks good to me.
Then I begin reading.