Chapter 6
Malcolm
A history podcast plays on my phone, the host and his partner discussing the life of a Roman emperor who became a human footstool.
I’m not that interested in the topic, but their lively voices fill the silence while I remove old strips of silicone from the porch window.
It’s the first of three I’m going to reseal, and it’ll take me hours to do this unpaid job that wasn’t even requested. Good news, Paul’s heating bill will be lower this winter. Bad news, I’m doing this to distract myself from indecent thoughts about his daughter.
Busy hands, busy mind, and if you can’t fix one problem, fix a different one.
My plan quickly unravels when I spot the source of my problem through the window. I tried so hard not to think of the devil, but she appeared anyway.
No, it’s not fair to call June that. It’s not true either. She’s a beautiful angel with a good soul. It’s projection. I’m the devil. Whenever she looks at me like I hung the moon, I want to pull her down into the darkness and defile her.
But villainizing her is my last ditch attempt to curb the fucked up feelings I have for her. If I pretend her sweet nature is a ruse, and she’s secretly a devious creature out to get me in trouble, it might be easier to suppress my lust for her.
June catches my stare and smiles, then strides through the living room. The front door opens and she steps out onto the porch. She looks like the sun and sea in her yellow tank top and light blue shorts.
So much glistening brown skin exposed.
Definitely no bra under that top with the way her tits bounce on every step.
And those pretty little toes are calling to me again.
God fucking help me.
“Hey, Mal. What are you doing?”
Yeah, Mal. What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck are you thinking? She’s. Fucking. Off-limits.
“There’s a draft coming in through these windows. I’m going to caulk them.”
She snickers, amusement gleaming in her eyes.
“What’s so funny?” I ask.
“I hope the windows consented to the caulking.”
I smile, the words slipping out of me before I can stop myself.
“Of course. They love it when their holes are filled with white stuff.”
Her eyes widen, her lips parted in shock, then she laughs. My smile deepens. That joke was way over the line to share with her, but I love that she has a naughty sense of humour.
“I need a favour,” she says after her laughter fades. “You can say no. I’ll understand.”
“What do you need?”
“A ride back to Toronto.” She folds her arms, an uncomfortable look on her face. “I was going to ask Dad, but I don’t want to anymore.”
I don’t need to ask why she doesn’t want Paul to drive her home. I saw what happened at the party last night. Her father was being a little too friendly with a woman who wasn’t her mother, and it upset her.
Paul was a cheater before I joined the army. After the fire, he sobbed in front of me, terrified that Nicole would leave him and take the kids.
He swore he would be a better husband and father if she stayed. It’s disappointing to return many years later and discover that the leopard hasn’t changed its spots.
Then again, I can’t climb up on any high horses. I’m a bastard who wants to fuck my buddy’s daughter who’s almost half my age.
“Yeah, I can do that,” I say.
“You sure? It’s a long drive.”
“That’s not a problem.”
She exhales. “Thanks a lot. That’s a seventy dollar bus ticket I don’t have to buy.”
“What time do you want to leave?”
“Around four.” Her face lights up. “Oh, Daph, Nate, and I are going to the beach! Do you want to come with us?” She grins. “We can play chicken fight like we used to.”
I want to say yes more than anything. I’d get to see even more of her gorgeous body, and I’d have her pussy against my neck.
No. Definitely not a good idea.
The fact that other men will enjoy seeing her in a swimsuit and not me sets me on edge. I resume peeling away the silicone, yanking a little harder than I need to at the strip.
“I can’t. I want to get most of this done before I take you home.”
“OK. See you when I get back, then.”
I catch her parting smile out of the corner of my eye. She turns and goes back inside, and I watch her through the window as she walks down the hallway. My gaze lingers on her ass, then I look away, disgusted with myself and my shitty willpower.
Promises to myself just don’t stick where June’s concerned. Last night, my simple mission to find a woman at the party went tits up before it even got started.
I spent every minute focused on her, never letting her leave my sight. When she stepped outside, it was as if I was tethered to her. I was practically on her heels, lurking like a fucking creep while she chatted on the phone.
At least there was some good in my questionable behaviour. I protected her from that fucker who put his hand on her. But I almost undid my good deed after she kissed my cheek.
All my years of training to maintain self-control in difficult situations were put to the test. I just barely resisted pinning her against the railing and giving her more than a kiss in return.
I should’ve said no when she asked me for the ride home. Toronto is a two-hour drive from here. We’ll be alone in my truck, in close proximity. Who knows what other temptation tests I’ll have to endure, and if I’ll pass them this time.
No. I can’t fail.
I’ve never been a boy scout, but I’ve also never been the kind of guy that would make a woman arm herself with pepper spray. I’m not going to start today.
Besides, this is it. June is leaving. I just need to get through the drive. My crazy obsession with her will disappear once she’s finally out of sight.
When late afternoon rolls around, June and I set off for Toronto. I’m two hundred percent committed to being on my best, most honourable behaviour. I turn on the radio to avoid conversation.
I sense June’s occasional glances, but I keep my eyes and my focus on the road. The long, winding drive eventually lulls her to sleep, and it’s my turn to throw glances at her.
She looks so peaceful. So beautiful. During stops at red lights, I’m tempted to slide the backs of my fingers against her cheek to experience her softness. I tighten my grip on the gear stick in resistance.
June wakes as I’m turning into the parking lot.
Her apartment building is an old, squat, two-storey brick house at the top of an incline.
A small, grassy area sits to the left surrounded by a tall retaining wall that faces the street.
Good thing there’s an iron railing. Falling over that edge would hurt.
I park in one of the spots shaded by trees. June stretches, gathers her things, and gives me a grateful smile.
“Thanks for the ride home.” She glances at the time on the console. “Wow. You got us here sooner than I expected.”
As I intended with my foot on the gas keeping us well over the speed limit when possible.
I shrug. “It’s a Sunday. Traffic was light.”
Relief courses through me as she slings her bag straps over her shoulder and reaches for the passenger door handle. Then she pauses and turns to me.
“Do you want to come in? You can stretch your legs, get a drink, maybe eat something too before the long drive back. I owe you for the ride and helping me with Tyler last night.”
Goddammit. I was so close to being home-free. So fucking close. Stunned by the turn of events, I hold her gaze in the silence, all the right words on the tip of my tongue.
No, you don’t owe me anything.
No, I don’t want to come in.
Have a good evening.
Goodbye.
The wrong ones come out instead.
“Sure, I’d like that.”