3. Melody
Melody
Jonas had said earlier that we’d get dinner ready before his mom drops off the kids. Well, he’s in for a surprise.
I’m the lesser member of my smart, talented family or so I’ve been told. I’m always in the way. “Please Melody, go somewhere and keep quiet” is something I often heard.
Though I know they love me, I’m the family embarrassment. So, I learned to do my own thing my own way. Live my life in my world and not in theirs.
In my world, I’m not savvy in the kitchen. I can screw up a can of ready-made soup. A bag of quick rice doesn’t stand a chance of survival. I can even fuck up a microwave meal.
Cooking is definitely not the kind of stuff I’m good at. What I am good at are cars. Muscle cars with big blocks never cease to thrill me. I love the sound of that power rumbling as they growl. I love everything about engines, and I can make a misfiring engine purr like a cat.
Being good at these things always made my folks stare at me like I’d dropped out of a spaceship.
My mother is like a hothouse orchid. She needs that controlled living, that perfect environment to thrive. My sisters are carbon copies of her. Right down to hair styles, makeup and how they dress.
I remember one evening running through the front door of our house while wearing grease-stained overalls and my face streaked with grease. I’d forgotten what day it was and barged into the living room full of important guests.
My sisters were in evening gowns. My father in his expensive suit. My mother was in shock. Yeah, I never fit in among the CEOs and judges and lawyers that make up my family.
That’s why I’m thankful I met Raven and we became the best of friends. She’s more of a family to me than my own.
I park my old Mustang I’m still working to restore in the driveway at Raven’s house and work up the nerve to get out. After all these years of trying to avoid Jonas, I’ll admit it’s going to be weird living with him for a week.
I open the trunk of my car to get my suitcase. Before I can grab the handle, Jonas is beside me hauling it out easily like it’s empty instead of packed full. His muscles bunch and for fuck’s sake why is he shirtless?
“Are you so eager to see me that you didn’t finish dressing?” I ask to cover how flustered I’m feeling.
“I was in the middle of changing when I glanced through the window and saw you pull up.” His lips do that one-sided half smile he does when he’s about to say something to drive me bat shit crazy.
“Me being shirtless bothers you. Makes you think about how hard my muscles felt when you were clutching me.”
Why does he have to be so Jonas? I tip my chin. “You being half-dressed doesn’t affect me at all.” If lying was a sport I just crossed the finish line in first place.
“Brace yourself.” He falls in step beside me as we walk toward the house. “You’re in a for a long week of hard riding.”
I pause on the porch and glare at him. “I’ve made it clear you’re not getting a taste of me.” I jab my finger into his bare chest for emphasis.
He rubs the spot. “I meant that Kaden is doing a junior rodeo in a couple of weeks, and I told Marshall that you and I would help him practice.”
If the porch had a hole I could fall into and never have to see him again, that would be great.
“You were thinking of me tasting you?” His voice is low. Sexy.
“No.” I’m really good at this lying sport.
“Sure,” he says, sweeping open the front door with a flourish.
I squeeze past him into the living room. It’s an inviting space with an oversized sofa, western throw pillows, and colorful decor. An oval rug covers most of the floor between the sofa and two recliners.
The stone fireplace has a hand carved mantel lined with photos of their wedding. Their children as babies. Frances and Gavin’s wedding anniversary party. Last year’s Fourth of July barbecue. Fall pictures in a pumpkin patch. Christmas morning around the tree.
Her place always has a filled-with-love vibe and a pang of wishfulness grips me. And for a few seconds I wonder what-if. What if I could have a home filled with people I love that love me back?
Like he gets where I’m coming from, Jonas says softly, “Those pictures are loaded with love.” With what sounds suspiciously like a sigh, he leaves to carry my suitcase to the bedroom where I’ll be sleeping.
After he returns, still shirtless, I avoid looking at his too-fit-for-my-sanity-body and say, “If you had seen the schedule, you’d know I mentioned I can’t cook so tonight’s meal as well as meals this week will be—”
“I can cook.” He disappears for a second time and returns wearing a dark blue T-shirt.
I hate that I’m disappointed his abs aren’t on display now. I hate having thoughts I shouldn’t think and emotions I shouldn’t feel.
“I’ll change clothes and assist you.” I quickly dart into the bedroom to change my clothes, pull my hair back into a ponytail and take a few minutes to collect myself.
“What can I help with?” I ask once I rejoin him.
Jonas glances up and indicates a row of various peppers along with tomatoes on the kitchen island. “You can chop those.”
I get out the cutting board, grab what looks like a decent knife, and go to town hacking the hell out of vegetables. Take that shirtless Jonas. If only it were that easy to chop up the lust monster and the strange way I’m feeling.
“Those are too big.” Jonas comes up behind me, his breath against my ear, his body brushing mine. I nearly cut myself with the knife, but he pulls my finger away in time. “What are you doing?”
“My bandage distracted me.” I can’t tell him he’s the root of the distraction.
He reaches around me for the cutting board and that move presses him briefly against me. I choke off the mmm noise I almost let out.
“Umm…since I’m clearly not much help. I’ll go unpack and just wash the dishes later or something.”
I’m not ashamed to say that I fled to the bedroom. I know my limits. And having Jonas press against me is my limit. It’s the fine line I’ve reached before wanting to tear off my clothes and his and ride that cowboy off into the sunset.
I’m halfway through trying to coral my thoughts while unpacking when Raven calls to check on everything.
“All is well,” I assure her.
“How is it being with Jonas?”
“We’ll survive. If we can keep our body parts off each other.” I tell her what happened in the kitchen. “I wonder if he did it on purpose because he knows I’m fighting hard to keep from jumping him.”
Raven laughs, then says, “He’s a really good guy.”
“I don’t know if that’s true or not, but he’s got a good body.”
Raven laughs again, then says, “Maybe you should take it for a spin.”
I squeeze the phone. “You know how I feel about entanglements. I’m not the kind of woman who’s good at being in a relationship.”
“That’s your mom’s voice I hear. Besides, you don’t have to be in a relationship to do him. Or to let him do you.”
“See, this is where a friend should talk me away from the enemy’s cock, not suggest I go get it.”
“Then get to know him and make it a friend’s cock.”
“Raven,” I groan.
“Think about it, Mel. You and Jonas have sparked for years. And it still hasn’t burned out. Maybe you ought to get him out of your system. Then you’ll be over it.”
“I don’t know.” I can’t believe I’m even considering her suggestion. But…maybe she’s right. I don’t like Jonas. He doesn’t like me. But there is something between us and it’s not like this girl doesn’t enjoy a good orgasm. And it’d be nice to have one that didn’t rely on self-effort and batteries.
“You do know,” Raven insists.
“Maybe you’re right, but it’s not like I can march up to him and ask him if he wants to do me.”
“Sure you can.”
“He’d refuse and I’d be mortified.”
“I highly doubt he’d refuse. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention. Anyway, Marshall is looking for me. I’ve got to run. I’ll call back later to talk to the kids before they go to bed.”
After I disconnect, I sit on the bed for a few minutes contemplating. Ask Jonas if he wants to have sex? If he smirks or says I told you so I wouldn’t be able to live that down.
Dilemma, dilemma. What’s a horny girl to do?
With a sigh, I leave the bedroom and wander back to the kitchen.
Jonas is busy at the stove.
It’d be so much easier if he didn’t look like he does. If he didn’t have what I know he has below the belt.
Clenching my fists, I clear my throat.
He glances up, pausing the spatula from stirring whatever he’s making. “What?”
“Do you want to have sex?”
His gaze travels the length of my body. There’s enough desire in his eyes that I feel like I need a cigarette and a nap.
“Yes.” He turns off the burner and leans against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles.
We stare at each other.
“There’s a lot I’m going to teach you,” he says.
Wet panties make a reappearance. “What makes you think I need to be taught anything?”
He gives a little shake of his head. “I didn’t say you needed to be taught. I said there was a lot I’m going to teach you.”
“Like?”
“Like how a woman should expect to be pleased. Like how she should be treated.”
I frown. “What do you mean by that?”
He shrugs. “I’ve often wondered if you’ve ever been truly pleased. If anyone has ever made love to you throughout the night and held you while you slept. Or made sure you knew you were safe and treasured.”
The way he’s looking at me makes my heart clench. He can’t be talking about emotions because I can’t do those. You hold your heart out to someone and damned if they don’t wipe their shoes on it after they tell you that you’re too big and too different from your sisters.
“That has nothing to do with sex,” I say, trying to make sure my voice doesn’t shake. “Sex is an exchange. Two people who get what they want. I’m not interested in a relationship with you anymore than you are with me. I want you for a cowboy night, not a cowboy forever.”
He doesn’t say anything and now I’m feeling like I’m the neighborhood lech trying to grab that dick before it gets away.
His grin flashes. “You sound like a woman who’s on the brink of falling in love with me.”
“Not even for a second.” I laugh. “All I want is the dick. The sooner the better because then whatever this tension is between us will be over.”
“Is that right? Then I choose the sooner.” Jonas crosses the floor until he’s standing in front of me. “Look down,” he says.
I do and he’s swollen, his cock pressing against the front of his jeans.
“Adjust me,” he demands.
Desire makes my blood feel as thick as syrup. I press my fingers around him. “Like that?”
He puts his hand over mine trapping it between his palm and the zipper. Shifting his hand to guide mine, he uses it to adjust his cock. “Like that.”
Outside a car horn suddenly blares.
“That’s probably your mom,” I say, my hand still against that glorious part of him.
“I know.” Putting his hands on my shoulders, he spins me around and smacks me on the ass. “Go greet my mom and get the kids. I’ll stay here for a few minutes until how much I want you isn’t noticeable.”
His mom brings the kids in and spends a few minutes chatting with us before she leaves.
The next hour is full blown chaos. Kaden is spreading mud and his homework all over the living room floor.
Marianna accidentally lets the dog in, and he races into the kitchen and plows into one of the table legs. The jolt knocks over all the drinks.
I’m mopping the spill up off the table and the floor while Jonas corals the dog and the kids. He’s good with them. Gentle and patient. He’s good in the kitchen. He’ll probably be an excellent lover.
I press my hand to my forehead. Dwelling on positives about Jonas?
I can’t believe I’m thinking of competence porn starring the cowboy I hate.
Wait. Do I hate him? Or have I confused lust and hate?
I bite my lip. No, surely not. I’m not confused, I assure myself.
I’m just horny and it’s softening the edges of my hate, that’s all.
Jonas glances at me. “I want you,” he mouths.
All the noise and chaos around me blinks out. It’s the two of us in a world of need.
A head butts me in the back of the leg and Marianna staggers back. She’s always running without looking where she’s going. “Aunt Melody, look at my picture!”
I drag my focus away from Jonas to look at the drawing Marianna made. “It’s beautiful, honey.”
She skips her way to the kitchen table and then scowls. “I don’t like tomatoes, Uncle Jonas.”
“Mom always picks them out,” Kaden says.
“I forgot.” Jonas begins to remove them, then takes the chair beside mine.
I’m reaching for my fork when I feel his hand on my thigh.
I glance at him.
He holds my gaze.
“You need to eat,” I whisper.
“Oh, I’m going to,” he whispers back.