Chapter 15 Austin
FIFTEEN
austin
I woke up to the sound of Xander pounding on the back door to the house.
“Bro!” he was yelling. “You made me get up early on a Sunday to help you, and you’re not even awake? Get your ass out of bed!”
“Shit,” I mumbled, tossing the covers back and going over to the window.
When I peeked behind the shade, I saw him standing at the back of the house shouting up at my bedroom window.
I’d left my phone at the house last night, so I couldn’t text him, and I didn’t want to wake up Veronica by yelling back.
“I’m giving you five minutes!” Xander shouted, then plunked himself down in one of the Adirondack chairs by the fire pit.
I noticed he had a cardboard cup of coffee in his hand, so I figured he’d be fine for a few. Going back to the bed, I slipped in beside Veronica again, curling up behind her.
The bedroom window faced the east, so the light filtering through the shade was soft and pink.
It made her skin glow angelically, and her gossamer hair was like a halo around her head.
She had the sheet pulled up to her hip, but it was low enough that I noticed the tiny pattern of stars just above her right butt cheek.
They were connected, like a constellation.
I wished I knew enough about astronomy to recognize it.
She inhaled, her ribs expanding, and I heard a contented little sigh as she exhaled. I leaned over and pressed my lips to her ink.
“Good morning,” she said sleepily.
“Morning. I found your tattoo.”
“I noticed.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the constellation for Virgo. That’s my sign.”
“Ah.”
She rolled onto her back and gave me a smile. “What’s yours?”
“Aries. Are we compatible?”
“No. Actually, those two signs are terrible together.”
“Hm. That’s too bad.” I lowered my mouth to her chest, taking one perfect pink nipple in my mouth, teasing the pebbled tip with my tongue. Her fingers moved into my hair, and she arched her back, moaning softly. My cock stirred to life, and I wished I’d woken up fifteen minutes earlier.
Outside, my brother yelled, “You’re down to three minutes, asshole!”
Veronica laughed. “Is that Xander out there?”
“Yeah. He’s here to help me get the table into the truck.
I forgot I told him to come at seven. Actually, I didn’t forget, I just had no idea what time it was and didn’t really care.
” Reluctantly, I picked up my head. “And I really don’t want to stop what I’m doing, but I don’t think Xander would appreciate the wait or the sound effects. ”
“I agree. But you know what he will appreciate?” She giggled. “You walking out of my apartment with no shirt on.”
“I wish there was a way to sneak back to the house. He’s going to give me so much shit about this.” I groaned. “Fuck! I owe him a bar now.”
“A what?”
“The bar top he wants out of reclaimed wood. He bet me I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you, and he was right.”
She laughed. “Serves you right for taking that bet.”
“I guess you’re right.” After planting one last kiss on her breast, I dragged myself from the bed and looked around for my clothing. “And you know what?”
“What?” On her side, she watched me get dressed, her cheek propped in one hand.
I tugged up my pants. “It’s worth it.”
Her smile validated that sentiment.
I dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Eight o’clock,” I reminded her as I headed through the living room.
“I’ll be ready, Dad!” she shouted.
Frowning, I yanked the door open. “Jesus, don’t call me that!”
I heard her laughing as I let myself out. Moving down the stairs slowly, I tried to play it cool.
When Xander heard my feet on the steps, he looked over. Probably expecting Veronica, he pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and squinted at me. When it registered that I was exiting her apartment wearing nothing but sweatpants, he started to laugh.
“Dude,” he said, replacing his sunglasses. “I knew it.”
Ignoring him, I went straight for the house and opened the back door.
“The door was open?” Xander followed me into the kitchen.
“Didn’t you check?”
“No. I knocked, and you didn’t answer, so I just assumed it was locked and you were still in bed.” He grinned, leaning back against the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. “And I was only wrong about one of those things.”
I looked at my phone, glad to see I hadn’t missed any calls from the kids or texts from Sansa.
“I want details.”
“Too bad.” I switched on the Keurig and stuck a pod in the machine.
“You used the condom at least, right?”
“Fuck off.”
“So I’m thinking pine for the bar you’re going to make me, or maybe oak, like from some old whiskey barrels.”
Dammit.
“Come on,” he scoffed. “You have to give me something. When you guys got out of the car last night, you weren’t even speaking.”
“We had a good time.” I poured some almond milk in my coffee.
“I’m surprised she even let you in, let alone stay over.”
“Guess I’ve got more finesse than you thought.” I took my cup and left the kitchen. “I’m going to get dressed. I’ll be back down in a minute.”
Upstairs, I threw on some jeans and a T-shirt. After combing my fingers through my hair, I stuck a cap on my head and went back down to the kitchen.
“So is this like a romantic getaway?” Xander asked.
“We’re going to her dickhead ex-fiancé’s apartment to get her clothes. Does that sound romantic to you?”
“No, but once that part is over, why not hang around the city for a couple days?”
“I’ve got work to do. We’ll be in and out.”
Xander smirked. “I bet you will.”
“Knock, knock.” Veronica entered the kitchen, looking fresh and pretty in denim shorts and a black top. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and her lips were bright red. For a moment, I imagined what it would be like to watch them close around my cock. Would they leave a mark?
There was something about that I liked.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Xander was full of cheer. “Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
“It is.” She smiled at him and at me, a little wistfully. “I wish we didn’t have to spend the whole thing in the car. Your dad keeps asking me if I’ve been for a ride on the old ferry boat yet, and I have to say no every time.”
“Sounds like your mean boss should give you more time off,” Xander said with a meaningful look in my direction.
I rolled my eyes and rinsed out my coffee mug, placing it in the dishwasher. “Let’s get that table loaded so we can hit the road.”
Veronica was quieter than usual on the four-hour drive to Saugatuck, where I delivered the table I’d made to a home owned by Gus’s nephew Quentin and his husband, Pierre.
They’d seen a table I’d made for Gus and his wife last winter when they’d visited and begged Gus to tell them where he’d found it.
After we’d brought the table into their dining room, they asked me about the wood, and I gave them the details about where I’d salvaged the old cedar planks and how I’d transformed them.
“It’s just incredible,” Pierre said with a slight French-Canadian accent. “Are you sure you won’t make another for us to sell on consignment at the gallery?”
“Gallery?” Veronica piped up.
“We own an art and antiques gallery in town,” Quentin explained. “And we think something like this would interest many high-end customers. You’d probably have a dozen orders by the end of the summer. What do you think, Austin?”
“I don’t really have that kind of time.” I felt Veronica’s eyes on me, but I didn’t meet them. “It’s really just a hobby.”
“Let us know if you change your mind,” said Pierre. “We want to be your first call.”
While Quentin wrote me a check, Pierre gave Veronica a quick tour of their home, which was also a bed and breakfast. Her laugh rang out from the front parlor, and we both looked in that direction. Veronica had a great laugh, deep and loud and joyful.
“Your wife is so lovely,” Quentin said. “I didn’t realize you were married.”
“I’m not. Veronica and I are just friends. Actually, she’s the nanny—I’m a single dad.”
“Oh, you have children! But you didn’t bring them?”
“No, they’re visiting their mom in California for a week. I just brought Veronica along to—to—” I groped for a word to appropriately finish the sentence, and Quentin took pity on me, patting my shoulder.
“I understand completely,” he said.
After we delivered the table, we stopped into a small sandwich shop for lunch. I ordered a meatball sub, and Veronica ordered a B.L.T. Seated across from each other in a booth, I watched her take a bite or two, then lose interest.
“Do you want something else?” I asked.
“No.” She wrapped up what was left and pushed it away from her. “It’s just my stomach is a little weird.”
I took another bite and observed her sip her iced tea. “You nervous about running into him?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to be.” My protective instincts were sharp today. “I’ll be there the whole time. He won’t come anywhere near you.”
“I’m not afraid of him like that. It’s just, he might—he might say things that hurt me. Or embarrass me.” She scratched at a chip in the tabletop with her thumbnail. “I don’t want you to hear them.”
I finished my sandwich in one bite and balled up the wrapper, wondering how mad she’d be if I punched this guy on sight just for fun. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
She smiled, but it was half-hearted.
“I mean it. The only one who should be worried is your dipshit ex. If he so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll cold-cock him in the jaw.”
“No!” She shook her head. “Do not get rough with him, Austin. He’d probably call security. Just . . . no. Leave him to me.”
I sighed and sat back. “And you guys call me a party pooper. I was looking forward to the chance to drop that asshole like a bag of dirt.”
“I’m sorry, but no,” she said firmly. “It’s bad enough I’m dragging you down there, taking up your whole day. I don’t want you thrown in jail on top of it. Then who’d drive me home?”
I laughed. “Now she tells it like it is.”
She smiled, and it looked real this time. “Seriously. I do appreciate this. I hope you know that.”
“I do.”