Chapter 15 Gavin
Gavin
I would be lying if I said that any of this is a walk through the tulips for me.
It’s wild watching your son get married. Holly is perfect for him. The two of them remind me of when me and Allie first met. Carefree and wild with ambition, with the whole world at our feet.
After a few years, we settled down some. Allie was very fun-loving, but she was also sensible. It was her sensibility that pulled me back to my feet when my head got too close to the clouds. She grounded me.
I will be the first to admit that losing Allie made me less fun-loving and carefree. I haven’t been in a serious relationship since. Hell, I haven’t been in any relationship since. I think it’s safe to say that I am in a bit of a construction zone when it comes to relationships.
Charlotte is a wrecking ball I couldn’t see coming.
I am at The Pour House, a hole in the wall Irish Pub that I frequent whenever I just want to shoot the shit and shoot some shots too. And not with women. This isn’t the Cantina. It’s not a cocktail lounge. It’s a bar with good food, good service, dark beer, and no agenda other than to decompress.
“You look like shit,” AJ, the usual bartender, says to me. He’s in his thirties with scraggly hair, tattoos, a nose ring, and an Irish accent.
“Thanks,” I grin as I pull up a stool. “I feel like shit.”
“So whiskey or beer?” he asks.
“Whiskey. Neat. And a beer to chase it.”
“Done and done,” he says, reaching for two glasses. “Rough week?” he asks after I shoot the whiskey.
I suck my teeth. “Rough couple of weeks,” I answer, sipping the beer.
“Ah. Work?” he asks. AJ likes to press, but he’s one of the few people that doesn’t bother me. I wouldn’t have come here if I wasn’t looking to vent a little.
“Nah, work’s great. Pique season on the slopes always pays off,” I say.
“I can imagine,” AJ grins. “It must be nice living on the top of the mountain,” he says.
While I do come from old family money, I live a modest lifestyle.
I live in a house in Cherry Creek here in the city, the same house I’ve lived in since the kids were in middle school.
It’s not over the top or lavish, but not cheap either.
I can buy a nice, new house if I wanted to, but when Allie died, I knew selling that house would devastate them.
So, I kept it, no matter how hard it was for me to see reminders of her in every nook and cranny.
“It’s not terrible,” I smile, taking another sip of my nitro beer.
“So what’s eatin’ at ya then, mate?” he asks.
“Women,” I say on the tail end of a sigh.
“Ah. Of course,” he says as he works. “Anyone in particular? Or is that just a generalized statement?”
“One in particular,” I say.
“Anyone I know?” he asks.
“Doubt it. She’s not really a pub kind of girl. In fact, other than the first night I met her, I’m not sure if she even drinks at all,” I answer.
“To each their own. She doesn’t sound very fun to me, but I’m a bit biased when it comes to drinking,” he says, and I smile.
“Yeah…”
“So if she’s such a pain in the ass, why not move on? Plenty of fish, right?” he asks.
“That’s the thing. I can’t,” I admit. “We are stuck working together. Even if we weren’t, we keep running into each other. It’s like the universe wants us to be around each other,” I say, taking another sip.
“Maybe it does…” he says, scooting down the bar to place a coaster in front of someone who just snagged a seat on the other side of the guy next to me.
“What’ll it be, Charlotte?” AJ asks. I stop, and my stomach drops onto the floor.
I lean forward, looking past the guy next to me, only to make eye contact with Charlotte.
“Well, no shit,” I say.
Her eyes meet mine and she sighs. “Really? What are you doing here?”
“I always come here,” I say.
“Well, so do I,” she says, and I chuckle.
“Yeah. Right.”
“I do! Tell him, AJ,” she says defensively, and I look to my trusty bartender, who is quick to betray me.
“She does,” he says, and I shake my head. AJ makes the connection pretty quickly and just laughs. Meanwhile, the guy next to me knows better than to remain in a firing zone and grabs his beer and walks towards the back of the pub.
“This doesn’t line up for me,” I say, scooting over to the stool next to her. I did come here to clear my head, but she’s here so we might as well sit close enough that we don’t have to yell over the Dropkick Murphys. “How are you a regular here?”
“I guess there’s a lot of things about me you don’t know,” she says. Then she shakes her head at AJ. “No beer tonight, AJ. I’d like a chocolate shake.”
“Uh oh,” I say, nursing my beer.
“Uh oh, what?” she asks.
“Well, everyone knows girls only eat ice cream when they’re depressed. Or going through a breakup. Or something else…”
“What if I just like chocolate shakes?” she asks.
“Fair enough,” I shrug. “I’ll let you enjoy it in peace.”
“Thank you,” she says, staring forward.
I give it a beat.
“So you really come here often?” I ask, and Charlotte whips her attention over to me.
“Why does that surprise you so much?” she asks with an incredulous laugh.
“I don’t know. I guess I had pegged you for an Applebee’s happy hour kind of girl. The early one…for old people.”
“You would know.” She teases, and I have to admit I walked right into that one.
“Touche.”
“That shows just how little you actually know me,” she says, shoving a red straw into her chocolate shake the second AJ scoots it in front of her.
“I guess so,” I smile. And even though I literally came here to drink enough beer that I could forget about her for all of a few hours, I can’t say I’m not enjoying her company.
It’s quiet for a moment as I sip my beer and she slurps her milkshake. The second I open my mouth, she cuts me off.
“We don’t have to talk, you know. I’m still pretty mad at you.”
That catches me off guard, and I hear AJ snicker across the bar. I make a mental note to flip him off when he’s looking this way.
“Why are you mad at me?” I ask.
Charlotte gives me a deadpan look. “You’re kidding, right? Olive green?”
“What?” I ask. “She loved it.”
“It’s hideous,” she says, and I chuckle into my beer.
“You’re not wrong,” I say, and her mouth drops open.
“You knew it was ugly, and you chose it to spite me! I knew it! And meanwhile, your son is going to be wearing it on his wedding day. And you’ll have the photos forever, reminding you that you are a stubborn jerk who will do anything to have the last word.”
“It’s just a color,” I say. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“It’s a wedding! I know this may come as a surprise to you since you’ve obviously never been in love, but weddings are a big deal to some people. Most people.”
I look at her, a small but sober smile on my face. “Actually, I have been in love before,” I say.
“Oh, really?” she laughs. “With who?”
“Ben’s mother,” I say, and she stops. “But she died when the kids were younger.”
“I’m sorry,” she says after a quiet moment. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You couldn’t have known,” I say. “I guess you’re right, though,”
“About what?” she asks, looking at me with a much softer expression.
“We don’t know each other very well.”
“I suppose we don’t,” she says softly. I finish my beer, and she finishes her milkshake, and then I smile over at her.
“I have an idea,” I say.
“Oh boy.”
“What?” I ask.
“No offense, but your ideas have a tendency to worry me,” she says.
“I take offense!” I say. “This idea is a good one.”
“Alright, fine,” she says with a sigh, sliding her empty glass forward on the bar. “Let’s hear it. It can’t possibly be worse than barbecue sauce and olive green taffeta.”
“Taffeta?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Never mind. What’s your idea?” she asks with a small smile playing on her pink lips. I can’t stop staring at them. It’s taking physical effort not to kiss them.
“We start over,” I say.
“Start over?” she echoes with a giggle.
“Yeah,”
“How are we supposed to do that? No matter how much I hate it, I think Holly is set on the olive green.”
“I don’t mean with the wedding junk. I just mean with us,” I say, swiveling my stool to face hers.
“Us?” Charlotte asks skeptically, pretending not to notice that our knees are pressed together.
“Yeah. A second chance at first impressions.”
“I don’t hate that idea considering the first time we met I was tossing tequila shots,” she mumbles, and I chuckle.
“You just have to promise me one thing,” I say. “You can’t fall in love with me.”
Charlotte laughs at that. “I didn’t fall in love with you the first time.”
“Are you sure about that?” I tease with narrowed eyes.
“Oh trust me. I felt something for sure, but it wasn’t love,” she says. She swivels back and forth on her stool, her knees between mine and bumping into them with each turn.
“Attraction then?” I ask.
“Eh…I mean you’re not ugly,” she says, and this time I really laugh.
“Glad I got your seal of approval,” I say, lifting my glass to take another sip.
“You should be. I don’t plaster it on any ole’ mug,” she says, and I spit out a laugh into my beer. I am drinking a nitro beer with a creamy, foam head, and it sprays in her face.
“Oh shit,” I say, grabbing a napkin. I’m actually mortified, but Charlotte can’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry,” I say, and I really do mean it.
But Charlotte just takes the napkin from me and dabs her face with it. “So much for second first impressions,” she says, and now I’m the one laughing.
We walk out to our cars, and the parking lot is nearly empty. It’s a small lot in the back that most people don’t even know is there anyway. The city is dark, cold, and crisp, but humming with nightlife. I don’t mind standing out here with her, away from it all.
“It’s chilly,” she says, hugging her white and black plaid peacoat tighter around her thin frame.
“You should’ve worn your sweater dress,” I say, and her blue eyes flash up to mine.
“Are you making fun of my dress again?” she asks, but there’s a smile behind it. “That’s it, I’m going to put it in the Goodwill bag as soon as I get home.”
“No,” I laugh. “Don’t do that. It’s basically a keepsake of our meeting.”
“I thought this was the first time we met,” she says, and there’s something else in her voice. Is she flirting with me? I look down at her, and she smiles up at me. Her lips are pink, her high cheeks rosy, her eyes bright.
“Oh. Right. In that case, can I kiss you?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says in a velvety tone. “Should we?”
“Why not?” I ask.
“We might regret it,” she says as I run my thumb along her jawline.
“Not if it’s a one-time thing.” I tell her. “After tonight, it’ll just be a memory. A smile we can’t explain to other people when they ask what we are thinking about.”
“And if we run into each other again?” she asks, and I pull her against me.
“Then I guess we’ll both be smiling, confusing everyone else, won’t we?”
She leans in and my lips cover hers. My tongue runs along the line of her bottom lip, sweet and cool. I work my jaw to allow the kiss to go deeper.
Charlotte wraps her arms around me, and I pick her up. I hold her with one arm while using the other hand to press the button on my key fob. I open the back door of my truck and set her on the seat.
“We can’t have sex in your truck in the middle of the city!” she gasps.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Someone could see us,” she says.
“In this parking lot?” I ask.
“There could be cameras,” she says. Our lips locked together, my hands tugging at her coat to get what’s underneath. Her hands are raking through my hair, down my back, and over my chest.
“Let them watch.” I say, devouring her neck.
“Gavin!” she says, pressing against me, and I realize that she’s not budging on this one. I shouldn’t be surprised. Charlotte might be frisky in the sack, but that’s when the sack is in a house or hotel with the doors locked and the windows drawn and the location on her phone turned off.
“Fine,” I say, crawling into the truck with her and closing the door behind me. I am suddenly grateful the car salesman talked me into the XL because this full back seat is definitely coming in handy right now.
“What are we doing?” she whispers.
“You can talk normally, you know,” I tell her as I crawl over to her and kiss her again. “No one is around.” Then I smirk at her. “Hell, you can scream if you’d like.”
“I do not scream,” she says, and I arch an eyebrow.
“I remember differently,” I say.
“Remember what?” she asks. I start to say something, but then I realize she is still playing our little game. That’s fine. I can roleplay too.
“Challenge accepted,” I say.
“What are you talking about?” she asks as I make my way lower.
“You said you don’t scream.”
“And I don’t. I–oh…God…”
Charlotte is cut off when my mouth covers her pussy.
She’s insistent on wearing dresses, no matter how cold it is outside.
I love it. It’s easy access, especially when all she has on under the dress is a lacy thong.
I didn’t expect Charlotte to be wearing a thong.
She’s business on top and fun underneath.
When my tongue trails a path down the length of her, I know I’ve found the fun side.
“Oh my God,” she says again.
“Just oh my God?” I ask, running my tongue back over her again.
“I don’t swear,” she says, fisting my shirt in her hands.
“Never?” I ask, kissing her sweetness.
“Nope,” she pants.
Then I smirk. We’ll see about that. I am determined to get either a fuck or a scream out of this girl, preferably at the same time.
I stop with the niceties, and the tip of my tongue finds her clit, swirling around it at first before teasing it softly and making her back arch and her head roll back. I flick harder and faster with precise pressure and speed until her body bucks against me and she comes undone.
“Oh God!” she lets out as the orgasm overcomes her.
When I sit up, I wipe my mouth with my hand and smirk.
“Well, one out of two isn’t bad,” I say, and Charlotte sits up, fixing her dress and her hair.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“You didn’t cuss, but you did scream.” I say with a wink, and Charlotte, the Charlotte I knew before tonight, rolls her eyes.
“You’re terrible,” she says, opening the door and hopping out.
“You’re welcome,” I say as she slams it and walks away.