Chapter 36 Puddles McGee Is Back
PUDDLES MCGEE IS BACK
brAD
I can see how nervous she is in her hesitant steps, her trembling fingers, and the way she keeps biting her bottom lip. Damn, but I'd like to be the one nibbling on that plump little pout.
Her boss told her to take a few days off to decompress after she filled him in on what went down with Jake two nights ago. So I figured today was as good a day as any to bring her here.
The clack of my teeth colliding reminds me to unclench my jaw. To try not to think about that fucking cunting prick again. Today is all about Shari, about us, about moving forward. I hope.
“We're at the beach?” she questions when she can hear the waves lapping on the shore behind us. She gasps as she figures it out and rips off her blindfold. “Is this the bar?”
I hum my agreement and watch her as she takes in every detail of the front of the building I've just leased.
The location is perfect, right at the edge of the beach, sandwiched between a clothes shop and a small ice cream parlour.
It should get plenty of foot traffic to hopefully keep us busy once we open.
Shari's eyes are wide and bright, and I can see her beautiful brain whirling through all the possible designs for the place. And that's before she's even seen the inside.
I unlock the weathered door, thread my fingers through hers, and lead her into the empty room. It smells faintly of the sea and kitchen grease since it used to be a cafe, but has been empty for months now.
She exhales a breathy, “Wow,” as she spins us in a slow circle, and I'm just thankful she hasn't let go of my hand yet. She must sense that I need her to be my anchor in this moment.
“Brad, this is...it's incredible! There is so much potential for the space and the location is amazing! But how can you afford this? Wait, that came out wrong. I don't mean it like, like—”
I interrupt before she starts to spiral, “I know how you meant it, Blaze. And, well, my grandfather's inheritance released to me when I turned twenty-five. Let's just say he was a very wealthy man.”
“You’ve never really talked about it,” she says softly as she starts to walk the perimeter of the room, dragging one finger along the ugly floral wallpaper. “What did he do?”
“He was a property developer, essentially, but he made most of his fortune from a couple of ex-council flats that he bought in London in the early nineties. He rented them out for years, and eventually when they sold, their value had appreciated by about four-hundred percent.”
“Holy balls, that’s a lot. I thought you didn't want to use your inheritance for the bar if you could help it, though? What changed your mind?”
“Lots of things, but ultimately I don't want to keep waiting to have the life I want for myself. For Lizzie. For us.”
Her head whips in my direction at the last word. “Us?” her voice is so small, I almost don't hear it.
“Yes. Us. I've been telling you for the last nearly three years that we are inevitable, Blaze.” Sand grains crunch under my shoes as I walk towards her. “Fate, destiny, serendipity, whatever you want to call it, we’re meant to be together.”
Her eyelashes flutter rapidly, as if she's trying to blink away tears, so I decide to go all in. “I do have another surprise for you, though.”
“Another surprise?” She breathes a quiet laugh, “I’m not sure what could be better than this,” she gestures around us.
I take another step towards her, unwilling and unable to be too far from her.
My centre of gravity. “I’ve changed my mind slightly on exactly what I want this business to be, because I think just a standard beach bar won't cut it.
We won't stand out in any way and need to be more niche. So...what do you think about a beach bar that also has a reading room-slash-bookshop?”
Shari just gapes at me, and in my nervous state, I can't tell if that's good or bad.
“I’ve been brainstorming names and I've narrowed it down to three, but I can’t decide which is best. I was kinda hoping you'd help? Since I've formed this idea around you?”
Why isn't she talking? Her continued silence makes my heart drop. She must think it's a ridiculous idea. Can I never get anything right with this woman? I just want to impress her and make her happy, but I feel like I keep failing.
I try to clear the lump in my throat and backtrack, “It's cool if you think it's a stupid idea. I just thought that since you love reading, it might be fun to encompass that…” I trail off with a shrug because what else can I say?
I'm staring at our feet when her warm hands cup my cheeks and tilt my face up to meet her watery gaze.
“You want to make it a bookish bar because I love reading? Brad,” her voice starts to wobble as a tear rolls down her cheek, “how are you even real? Just twenty-four hours ago we were both seeing other people, and yet you still made my hobby part of your dream bar?”
I don't even get a second to process her words before her pillowy soft lips are on mine. It's gentle, grounding in a way, for both of us, I think. As she slowly breaks the kiss, I pull her in tight for a hug and just breathe her in. Jasmine, sunshine, home.
We sway like that for a while and she starts singing softly. It takes me a moment to realise she's singing A Bump In The Road by Jenna Hendricks. A song that has always reminded me of her.
You were a bump in the road
I thought I'd pick myself up from this fall
Just a bump in the road
But I realise that you are my all
My all
When she finally speaks, my heart tries to beat right out of my chest and into hers. “What did you say?” I squeeze her even tighter so she can't escape.
“I said I love you, Brad. I don't even know how to put this feeling into words because I love you doesn't feel big enough.
But I'm terrified because our age gap is significant.
What if you don't feel the same in five, ten, fifteen years when I'm saggy and wrinkled and you're just hitting your prime? What if—”
SHARI
“You think I care about age?” Brad interrupts my spiral, letting me go to pace away in frustration, and I immediately feel the loss of his body wrapped around mine. I stare at him in silence because the lump in my throat won't let me speak.
“I don't. I care about the future, about chemistry, feelings, and joy. I care about our daughter.” He steps closer with each statement. “I care about you!” His forehead drops to mine, but he never breaks eye contact, and my lips tremble.
I reach forward and slowly run my left hand up his strong chest, over his shoulder, up around the back of his head to tangle in his silky-soft hair, and ghost my lips over his. The flare of hope and desire in his eyes is all I see before he consumes me.
This kiss isn't sweet or gentle, it's pure emotion — relief, longing, maybe even a little anger at all the time we lost because of my insecurities.
It's sinfully carnal and within minutes we're a mess of tangled limbs — jeans unbuttoned, hands and lips and tongues everywhere they can reach.
I'm so lost in him that I forget where we are until I'm ushered into a storage room. The heat of us burning the frigid air.
He reaches between my thighs and groans at the veritable ocean of lust he finds there. “So wet for me, baby. I promise I'll worship every inch of you later, but right now I need to be inside you. It's been too fucking long.”
“Yes, please, to all of that. Now, Brad!”
He kneels to yank my jeans and panties off, and picks me up to pin me against the wall as I wrap my legs around his waist. With one swift thrust, he's completely sheathed inside me, and my pussy already starts to pulse around him.
I don't think I've ever been this close to coming this quickly before, but I am here for it.
“Oh, fuck, Blaze, I'm not gonna last. Too good. Fuck! Are you close,at all?” Brad's voice is all agonised grit.
I somehow manage to squeak out, “With you!” amongst all the unintelligible noises I'm powerless to suppress. And as I fall over the edge of the planet, he's there to catch me. Like always.
As we drive home, I realise I never asked him about the names he came up with.
“Wait, you said you narrowed your bar names down to three, what are they?”
He smiles and picks up my hand from his lap to kiss my knuckles, and doesn't lower it when he speaks. There's something erotic about the way his lips move on my skin. Or maybe I'm just sex-starved for this man.
“Ok, if you think they're stupid, we can come up with something else. I was just brainstorming, so I'm open to other suggestions.”
“Brad. You're adorable when you're nervous. They won't be stupid, just tell me!”
He still looks a bit uncertain but finally relents, “Well, the three I like best are: Read Between The Wines, With A Twist, and Texts On The Beach.”
My entire being goes fuzzy at how much thought he's put into this. And how his brain is just as sexy as his body. And face. And smile. And eyes. And abs. And— snap out of it Shari, you can climb him when you get home! Seriously, when did I become such a nympho?
“Oh my god, Brad! They're such clever names! I love them all. Truly.”
He hits me with an intense smoulder – yes, my man can smoulder, and yes, he’s my man – as he rumbles, “I love you. Truly.”
Oh, would you look at that, Puddles McGee is back. And she giggles like a schoolgirl.
“Akkk!” I squawk with excitement. “Ok, well, they're all great in their own right.
Read Between The Wines speaks for itself, but I know a few bookish influencers who use that handle, so it won't be a unique name in social media.
Texts On The Beach is so fun but I don't know if it would confuse people because texts, text messaging? But I think With A Twist is awesome because it works on like three different levels. Aaaand the name is catchy and would look great on merch!” I'm almost breathless and giddy by the time I come up for air, and look over to find Brad grinning at me. “Too much?”
He shakes his head, still smiling. The sun gleams in through the windscreen, making his golden skin glow, and his eyes glimmer like polished sea glass. He’s so handsome that it hurts to look at him. “Never too much. I fucking love you.”
“You already said that. And I love you too.”
“Say it again,” he demands.
“I love you.”
“Again.”
“I love you,” a smile starts to form on my face.
“Again,” he grins.
“I fucking love you!” I shout with a laugh.
“Get used to this, Blaze. I fucking love you too, and I'm going to need to hear it all the time now that you're finally mine.”
I think I always have been.