Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Landon
Morning, Mr. Bluebird, morning sun. Everything is feeling so fine, here in my mind.
What a beautiful day, following a night I could not have dreamed up.
Can a man use his allotted lifetime of cum in one six-hour period?
My grandfather used to chuckle and say a guy could go blind if he came too much.
How was that supposed to work? Would our tear ducts be sapped dry?
I may become sightless soon, because I don’t plan on doing without. Blindness seems like a weak threat.
“I wish the rain had never stopped,” Kim says, wrapping a leg in the sheets.
She’s unbelievable. And all the other words that describe a beautiful woman wanting to have sex with you. Locks of hair spread out on the white pillowcase like she placed each piece for my viewing pleasure. Sexy as fuck.
“You look great,” I say, eyeing the ass about to be uncovered. “But quit giving me a hard on. I have to go to work.”
Adjusting my dick, I get to putting shoes on. I sit at the edge of the bed and look out the window. There is a world beyond this room, though it pales in comparison.
“Think it’s gone for good. Today is going to be sunny.”
She grabs the back of my jeans and pulls. “Can’t you call in and say you have a broken penis?”
“It would be the truth, thanks to you. But no. That isn’t a valid reason to close Mom's. Fucking Frank can’t cover today.”
“Fucking Frank,” she says in solidarity.
It makes fun of my attitude in a sweet way, and I give her one more kiss. It will stay with me all day, in between memories of last night. Those have already begun to replay, and I haven’t left the house yet.
“Are you going to be alone tonight? I could come back after closing.”
“No. Hunter will be here.”
“Okay.” I pause for a few beats. “This is where I pretend not to be disappointed and leave you wanting more.”
She likes that. It shows up in a wide grin.
“I’m off. Pick you up for the wedding tomorrow at one. Does that work?”
“It’s perfect. Hey, call me tonight. So I can tell you how much I’m missing you.”
“I will.”
As I am walking out of the room, I turn and say one last thing.
“I’m not sure how, but I think I may be completely screwed,” I say without a hint of humor.
She must believe it too, and throws back the sheet and rolls over, exposing her ass and giving the screw one more twist.
Exiting the room, I feel like the guy in a film whose world has suddenly gone from black and white to color.
Something’s got ahold of me. Feels strange, but good beyond weak descriptions of Paradise.
Kinda like the fucking birds are chirping and the rainbow is just for my benefit.
Christ. Walking out the front door, I check that it locked.
Randomly, my eyes land on the flower beds to the right.
Looks like an animal must have tried to get out of the rain last night.
The drying mud is disturbed from the bed lining the walkway, to the wide one under Kim’s bedroom window.
Must have been a raccoon, or maybe something able to burrow.
It’s a mess. She needs motion lights out here.
Wonder if Hunter can install them? Put it on the list, man. At the top.
Taking out my cell, I call her.
“Hello, Captain No Underpants.” She laughs.
“Hunter should install some motion detector lights around the house. At least here in the front.”
“Why?”
“Your flower bed looks like an animal was trying to hide from the rain, under the bushes. You lost the small one with the red flowers. If you put lights up, it will scare them off.”
“Alright, thanks. I’ll talk to him. He and Bing are going to Memphis next week, but if he doesn’t get to it before, I’ll have him do it when he gets back.”
“Are you still in the bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
“Open your blinds. I’ll show you where it’s at.”
“Maybe I’ll show you where it’s at. What do you think of that?”
I disconnect and get close to the mess. Slowly the blinds lift to reveal naked Kim.
She poses like a fifties pinup girl looking innocently sexual with eyes wide and one hand covering parted rosebud lips and one covering her pussy.
Her aLexome ass is stuck out for my viewing pleasure. What animal, what lights?
The last twenty-four hours have moved like sap.
We talked three times before I locked up Mom's at two in the morning. I was beat. A final call, from our beds, put everything right. She doesn’t care if it’s ten or two.
The bullshit of the day evaporated with her hello.
She can laugh and I love it. Or talk about Hunter or Dad. Doesn’t matter.
It is all more interesting and easier with her. Neither wanted to say goodnight, but fatigue bit us both. She is so alive. Damn. I don’t think she is intentionally driving me round the bend, but clearly I am becoming someone different.
Now, driving to Kim’s house, I have the time to go over the list for Dad’s place.
What needs to get done first? Without aim, my mind returns to her bed for the hundredth time.
Fuck the rest of my life. I never saw this part of me coming.
That I would be dreaming of just being with her, like a boy discovering his first love does.
How does the innocence of that combine with my newborn need for the soul shaking lovemaking? Lovemaking? Oh crap. You’re a goner.
Thankful not to have to dissect my choice of words, I push other thoughts away and pull to the curb. I check the mirror. Hope she likes the suit. What I really care about is that she likes me in it. Before I can exit, she comes out the door and tells me to stay in the car with a raised hand.
I am hit with a new definition of beauty.
A wider and higher vision. The woman looks fine.
Beautiful in fact. Hair piled high, jeweled heels, the whole fucking picture is perfect.
The package needs unwrapping. The passenger door opens and she slides inside.
I don’t think I have ever thought about this before with any woman, but her makeup looks great.
She did something with the eyes that I like.
“Hi. I got a call from Holly. Dominique needs all hands on deck. One of the bridesmaids is sick. They have a new order. Anyway, afternoon sexy man. You look fabulous! So kissable.”
She says it with eyes cast down and then lashes up.
“Are those beautiful rosy lips able to be kissed? Or is there an embargo on kissing a lipsticked girl?”
A hand goes around my neck and she leans close. “There will be no embargos. Ever.”
I still hold back a little, giving a soft kiss. She appreciates my common sense and returns the effort in kind.
“It’s a good day for a wedding.”
We pull away and I take her hand as we drive.
“When we get there I will be with the wedding party, you know. Attending to the bride.”
“Yeah. I get it. Are you coming with me to the reception, or will we meet up there?”
“No. You go ahead. I think we are doing photographs after the ceremony. Then there’s the whole entering the reception thing. Colter and Dominique want things to be more casual after that.”
“Great. Are we sitting together for the dinner?”
“Yes! Definitely. There is no assigned seating. It’s going to be so much fun!”
“It’s all fun with you. I’m looking forward to the slow dancing.”
She squeezes my hand. “Are you? That makes me so happy, because I love to dance.”
“Well, wait a minute. Did you miss the most important word there?”
“Was it slow?”
“Yep. I look like a dork dancing fast. I’m not comfortable.”
“Okay. I hear you.”
That is a first. In the history of Landon versus Women, there has always been pushback.
Then if a few cocktails were involved, it would get worse.
They almost always ignore the line I draw in the sand.
Chicks love to dance, it’s their thing. They want it to be mine.
Until they see for themselves. Kim isn’t like that.
She’s not like anybody. The thought floats in my mind all the way to the church.
Now, sitting in the back pew of St. Stephan’s, I ruin all lofty thoughts of the woman, as I imagine a dirty rotten image of me fucking her later. A sinful taking. Sinful because my intentions are one hundred percent impure. Is it noble to admit the obvious?
I think in a church there may be some unwritten law that requires a certain standard of meditation.
Thinking about pussy is likely frowned upon.
Shit. God will understand. A man is only so capable of denying himself what has been purposely made undeniable.
If I am made in his image, obviously he is a horny deity.
The place is pretty full, stragglers arriving a little late slide into whatever seats are left.
Most vie for the aisle. Nobody wants to sit in the last pew, here at the far end, furthest from where the procession will take place.
I have nabbed the best spot. When it ends, I will be closest to two exits.
Just as I congratulate myself, a large, fashionable group stops and files into the pew.
There are enough of them to take up the open space.
Damn. That’s Atticus Swift. It’s the entire Swift family.
The Memphis Mavericks dynasty. Shit. I am not mistaken.
There’s Sawyer. Last year’s MVP. He’s married to the only daughter.
I remember seeing them in the ballpark’s VIP suites on tv. Very cool.
Don’t want them to catch me staring, as they nearly fill the space between us.
So I look past them every so often. It’s probably not fooling anyone.
They are used to public stares and interest. But looking like a groupie at my age is whack.
Dad will like hearing this. He and Mom knew the parents back in the day.
When all us kids were little. I don’t even remember.
Wonder if Kim knows them? Next time I ring Belle because of a team win, it will take on new meaning.
Man. Good looking group. That must be the parents. The father was a ballplayer too. Yeah. Boone Swift. I get a smile and nod from the mother, who takes her seat a few feet away. There is a hint of recognition when she sees me. Like she is trying to connect the dots. I return the smile.
Bringing up the rear, another couple arrives and motions for the family to scoot down.
That’s the oldest brother. The sports agent.
Rick? No. Brick. That’s it. The blonde he guides into the pew is the wife.
She’s a hot shot agent too. The announcers are always talking about how they represent some of the top earners in baseball. I’ve heard Power Couple more than once.
The Swift’s move down, and the mother sits right against my leg. It is a tight squeeze, but I’m glad I picked this spot to sit. I smile.
“Bride or groom?” she asks.
“Groom. I’m a guest of one of the bridesmaids. The groom’s sister Kim. Landon Podesta. You are a Swift, I take it.”
“Landon Podesta? Your dad and mom owned Mom's?
My surprised expression precedes my answer. She remembers.
“Yeah. My mother passed, but dad still has the place.”
There is compassion behind her eyes as she answers. “I heard that. I’m so sorry. Yes, we have been to Mom's many times, although not for decades.”
Then she leans over to her husband and says, “Boone! This is little Landon! Ronnie and Victoria Podesta’s boy!”
All eyes are on me now, including their grown children who have no clue who Ronnie and Victoria Podesta are. But Boone does.
“Landon! Last time we saw you, you were pissed at the Pope. Remember Lucinda?”
She chuckles as quietly as possible, then turns back to me.
“We were your parents’ friends when we were all in our early twenties. We had so much fun together.”
“I’ve heard. Dad speaks highly of you. Mom did too. She said you all had a blast together, to use her word.”
A wide grin accompanies mine, as the images of my mother young warm my heart. Boone and his wife are enjoying the memories as much as I am. Damn. I had a great childhood. Even someone else’s memories of my folks settle soft.
The guests pay attention as important family members begin to be escorted to their seats. Dominique’s, and Colter’s. I don’t know all of them. But they go to the first pews. That says it all. Lucinda leans over and whispers.
“Let’s talk at the reception. I want to introduce you to the family, and Boone and I have stories of your parents!”
“I’d like that. Yes.”
We quiet as the groomsmen enter and line up next to the altar.
There are smiles on each face as they wait.
Especially on Colter’s. I detect no nervousness.
Hunter looks good. Wonder who he just winked at?
The kid has a certain swagger. Confident but not so much as to be an asshole.
Music breaks my concentration, and the guests react to the signal.
We stand and eyes are pulled to the back doors.
They open and the first face I see is Kim’s as she leads the procession of bridesmaids. Beautiful girl.