19
Liam
I’m getting myself in way too deep with a woman who is only here for a few weeks. But I don’t care. Later, I’m going to figure out once and for all if she remembers me. But it really doesn’t matter at this point. I’m invested now either way.
Layla and I spent the morning at my favorite breakfast spot, where we stuffed ourselves and she told me several times it was the best brunch she’s ever had. We laughed and talked about all kinds of things, but still that one spring night was never brought up.
I’m not mad about it. Perhaps a little bummed, but I’m sure I’ve made out with a few girls in my younger years that I wouldn’t recognize now, even if they slapped me in the face. Not that I’d deserve it. At least, I don’t think I would. I’m a one-woman kind of man and I try to treat people in general with respect.
I had one long-term girlfriend, and that ended years ago. We met in college and dated for about two years, but she wanted to see the world and have adventures after she graduated, and I wanted to have my adventures back here. I’m not a hermit or anything, I’ll take vacations when forced. I just love it here and can’t imagine living anywhere else. Of course, the accident happened not long after that, and now I like feeling settled here for Jackson’s sake, too. I’ve had a few nights of mutual pleasure with different women here and there, of course, but none of them ever made me want something more serious.
For the most part, though, it’s been pretty dry around here. Carly from the restaurant, who is the nicest person, asked me out maybe a year ago. I knew she had a thing for me, and I’ve always tried to be polite, but I also tried to avoid any alone time with her, fearing that might happen. It simply wasn’t there for me. No sparks. She took it well, though. I think she’s with some new golden retriever guy now.
These past few years I’ve spent most of my time focusing on trying to figure out how to raise Jackson, and I don’t really make time for myself. I made a lot of money off my software sale, plus the money that I unfortunately received after my sister and brother-in-law passed. That allowed me to take over my parents’ house so they could move into the city. They’re getting older now and can’t handle the upkeep out here. I always dreamed of staying in this area, so it was the perfect solution. Now I have a lot more time to spend with Jackson. Life has been almost perfect.
After brunch, we walk around for a bit outside, popping into several stores. Layla had two glasses of mimosas at brunch and has been giggly ever since. I’m sure she’s warmed up from her freezing cabin by now. I’ll have to add her cabin to my list of great wingmen, right below Jackson. It’s like these opportunities to spend time with her keep falling into my lap, and I’m taking them. No complaints.
Layla wants to check out the antique store nearby, so we cross the street, and I follow her inside. There’s a distinctive smell that hits my nose as soon as we enter. Not bad, just…old. Like the items have filled the air with their histories and their dust. I can’t say that I’ve ever actually been in here before, though I’ve passed it many times.
Layla looks enchanted as she strolls the aisles, perusing, stopping to look closer at things now and then. When she’s really focused, she does that nose scrunching thing from time to time
“Hey, look,” I say, motioning toward a small, gold-framed painting of a male from maybe the 1800s. History isn’t my thing, so I could be way off. “It’s Lord Davies, your boyfriend.”
She looks for a second, then turns back to me and tilts her head back in a fit of giggles. “I need it,” she says through her laughter.
I snatch it off the shelf and carry it to the register.
“Liam, I was just kidding!” she says hastily, still giggling.
“No. You do need it. And I want you to think of me every time you see this creepy old painting of a random dude and have a laugh.”
**
It's still the afternoon, so I’m trying to come up with ideas for what to do the rest of the day as we pull up to my house. Of course, I have some ideas which involve a lot less layers, but I’ll keep those to myself for now. I won’t deny that her perfectly round ass and thick thighs have been running through my mind for days now, though.
I lead her inside and she takes a seat at the kitchen island on a barstool. “Do you mind if I make a call to the owner really quick? I still haven’t heard anything.”
“Go right ahead. Coffee?” I ask, holding up two mugs.
She nods fervently. And I know just how she likes it.
I make two coffees for us while she makes a call on her phone. She sighs in frustration after what sounds like no answer, then tries one more time. No luck. She places her elbows on the counter and rests her head in her hands.
I bring the coffee over and set one in front of her, then take the seat next to her. “Thank you.” She tries to smile but looks defeated.
“No problem. And don’t stress it, okay? We can try again in a little while.”
“Okay.” She sounds unconvinced. “You know, I think maybe I’ve been to that diner before with my dad. Some of the memories from here are a little fuzzy, but I think I remember it. He used to love taking me to breakfast, just the two of us. And my mom always liked to sleep in on vacation.”
“Sounds like he had great taste, then. You were pretty close with them?” I ask gently.
“Yeah. I was an only child. I always dreamed of having a big family, but looking back now, I wouldn’t change a thing. They both, coincidentally, were only children also, so we didn’t have much other family really. No cousins or anything. Just some grandparents who popped in and out over the years. I have one grandma left who I call now and then, but she lives in Florida in an assisted living home and has dementia. So, it was usually only the three of us off on our adventures. They loved taking me places. This place was their favorite, though.” She smiles distantly.
“I’m sorry. That must have been tough.”
“It was. For a while after, I was in a really bad headspace. Quit my job, ditched the boyfriend, became a hermit. Then after a few months, I slowly started to pull myself out. I did some therapy, started seeing my friends again, got a gym membership—kept the boyfriend in the past, though. Mom never did like him.”
“I’m glad you got through the worst of it,” I say, squeezing her knee. You never really get over grief, you only learn to live with it as best you can. “And hey, at least one good thing came from all that.”
“What’s that?” she asks, her eyes alight with curiosity.
“You ditched that loser boyfriend.”
Her head falls back in a fit of giggles.
“You’re not wrong,” she says with a sly grin.
“I know,” I say confidently.
“Are you always so…cocky?” she teases.
“No. Never,” I smirk.
“Tell me about your sister,” she says, her cheek resting on her hand, her elbow propped on the counter.
I smile. It still hurts to think about, but over the years, the memories have become bittersweet—both happy and sad. “She was a few years older, and fiercely protective of me. Ever since we were kids. This one time in elementary school, a kid made fun of me for… I don’t even remember what, and then the next day, she snuck a bag of dog poop to school and put it in his lunch box.”
Layla lets out a boisterous laugh, then covers her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. “She did not! That’s amazing.”
“She did. She was crazy like that, but in the most loving, loyal way,” I say, smiling. “Jackson looks so much like her…”
Her expression softens, and I see pity in her eyes. But I give her a reassuring smile. I’m okay.
I place a gentle, comforting hand on her knee. But the intimate touch stirs something else in me. We lock eyes.
There’s a connection here that I know she feels too, and as I hold her gaze, I notice her shift slightly closer to me. Her eyes look to my lips and back up, and that’s all the sign I need. I lean in slowly, keeping my hand firmly on her knee, holding her gaze.
Our lips meet softly for a moment, then they crash together in a more hungry attack. She tastes sweet and she smells even better. Some sort of fruit that I don’t care to name.
Fuck. I want to taste more of her. Everywhere.
She lets out a breathy moan and I move even closer. Suddenly she’s standing up between my legs and I’m grabbing handfuls of her ample ass to pull her in closer to me. I throb with want for this woman.
Her arms wrap around my neck and her hand grabs the back of my hair. Our tongues dance in a gentle caress and I tilt my hips slightly, pulling her even tighter against me, showing her how much I want her. She gasps softly, the sound causing me to instinctively raise my hips into her just a little more. She arches her body into it.
Then she’s slowly pulling away, breathing heavily, and we look at each other for a moment. In a dream world I’d lift her up right now and take her to the bedroom to do ungodly things to her, but I can see in her eyes that she’s fighting a battle within herself and maybe not quite there yet.
I’ll wait as long as she needs. I’m a very patient man.