Chapter 22 Shannon
Shannon
There’s something undeniably hot about watching a man pleasure himself… Well, watching Wesley, who isn’t afraid to show me what he likes.
It’s been two days since I spent the day and whole night with him, wrapped up in his huge arms, and honestly, he ruined me in the best way possible. We haven’t even slept together yet, well, not in the literal sense.
For someone who hadn’t been with anyone in a while, his hands certainly didn’t forget how to work. And his mouth… God, that dirty mouth of his has been playing on my mind ever since, a real toe-curler.
Today, the plane is being delivered, and I still haven’t worked up the courage to tell him.
We were meant to meet for lunch the afternoon after I stayed with him, but work’s been busy and he’s well on the way to finishing the house.
I told him I would hopefully see him later.
I’ll ease in, maybe throw in a sexual favour before I blurt it out.
“Oh, by the way, I bought a plane when I was drunk, because of my crazy idea to open a glamping site in my garden… which I know you’re not keen on.”
I’m glad I told him about the glamping site, but it would’ve been the perfect moment to tell him about the plane at the same time.
My parents were right. I should’ve told him everything, laid out all my plans before making any rash decisions. But this is a classic Shannon move.
I’ll tell him later… break it in nice and easy.
My phone pings with a message from my dad telling me he’s on his way.
Now all I need to do is shift my car. I decide to park it on Wesley’s driveway and hope he doesn’t turn up before I have a chance to tell him.
I pull up the tracking for delivery. “Shit, this just got real, Shannon,” I mumble to myself, following the little dot as it moves closer, my nerves playing havoc.
A few minutes later, Dad’s car pulls in, and he parks a little further down the lane in one of the pull-up sections. He gets out and makes his way towards me, a huge smile on his face. It doesn’t matter that I’ve fucked up, he’s always been my number one supporter.
“Hey, Dad.” He leans in and kisses my cheek.
“Did you get your bed built? We can do it now if you want?” he offers. I find myself smiling at the memory and the bet me and Wesley made. I’ve still got to hold my end of the deal.
“Yeah… my…Wesley did it for me.” Blushing around the words, Dad raises an eyebrow.
He’s never questioned me about men, Mum thinks it’s because he can’t handle the fact that I’m an adult now. When I was a kid, I did everything with Dad; he’s still my favourite person to go to the pub with.
“What did your neighbour… Wesley, say about the glamping site?” I bite my lip, looking anywhere but his face. Dad crosses his arms in front of him, looking down at me and shakes his head.
The deal was that I tell Wesley and Dad fills in the forms. He’s already dropped them off to a friend who works in the planning department at the council.
He also oversees the camping and holiday lets; he told Dad he’d come and look at my site.
Fingers crossed it passes, or I’m stuck with a huge arse plane fuselage.
“I… erm… so I told him about it,” I reply sheepishly.
Dad puffs out his chest. He looks disappointed, not that I blame him.
He’d hate it if one of his neighbours, no matter how far away, planned a build without telling him.
Small villages are like that, they even have meetings in the village hall and discuss everything; the local Women’s Institute (WI) arranges fund-raising, baking, and supports local charities, and talk about upcoming businesses.
The men meet up for an excuse to talk about the town, but really, they just sit around playing dominoes, shit talking about people, and drinking beer.
My dad is a private man. He’s younger than a lot of them, he doesn’t really do neighbours, apart from Joan and Fred, Barney’s mum and dad. Even then, he has to be in the mood.
“Why does it sound like you’ve only told him half the story?” he says, swiping a horsefly from his arm.
Sighing, “I know, I know. I’m going to tell him about the plane later.
” I hope he understands. This is all new to me, and Wesley, well…
he’s sometimes difficult to read. He might have acted like he was okay about the glamping site, but it was surface-level at best. I could see it in his eyes.
He hated the idea, but still he went along with it because he didn’t want to upset me.
“I promise I’ll tell him about the plane later.
” But dad already knows I’m only saying later because, let’s face it, he’s not exactly going to miss a plane grounded in my garden, is he?
Dad nudges me when he notices the small low-loader driving up the lane towards us, but I don’t see a plane, or anything even resembling one…
It’s only when it pulls up alongside that I see it.
Ten shrink-wrapped pallets.
Fuck my life.
They never told me I was buying a flat-pack plane.
Dad walks over to the driver.
Suddenly, I feel sick, because where the hell am I going to put ten pallets? Pulling out my phone from my back pocket, I scroll through my emails until I land on the delivery and packaging details from the seller, and there it is in black and white.
‘Ten times pallets. Click here to download assembly instructions.’
Assembly instructions? Are they serious?
There’s no way in hell my bloody butter knife will fix this mess; I doubt even Wesley’s pocket battery-operated screwdriver would suffice.
I’ve got no choice.
I need to speak to Wesley.
“Shan, did you know?” I look over at Dad. He’s clearly pissed off. I can’t lie to him, so I just drop my head and throw my hands up to cover my eyes.
This isn’t the time to start crying. I’ve royally fucked up… again.
“Hey, come here, love.” I walk over to Dad, and he wipes my eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll sort it.” Here he goes again, fixing my life mistakes.
I’m shit at adulting.
He calls out to the driver and instructs him to drop the pallets at the other side of the house where the gravel is laid. Luckily, they’re all covered in black wrap, so they won’t be seen. It’s too late to return them.
Once the driver has offloaded them using a mini crane and I’ve signed the paperwork, it’s just me and Dad.
He clears his throat and levels his eyes with me. “You’re banned from bloody eBay, Shan.” I nod furiously.
“On a scale of one to ten, how mad are you?” I ask, he pulls me in for a bear hug.
“I’m not mad, a little shocked I raised you.” He laughs as he pats my back. “But then again, you did ditch my lawnmower in the fishpond.” He kisses me on the head. “Go and speak to your neighbour, Shannon.” He picks up the spare plans from the first pallet.
“I’ll take these and have a look over them.” Offering him a weak smile, wiping the remaining tears away. “Thanks, Dad. I love you.” He salutes me and leaves me to figure out how I’m going to tell Wesley, who is now more than likely never going to go down on me again or speak to me.
Shit, this is going to be harder than I thought it would be.
Pulling out my phone again, I stare at Wesley's name. Maybe I could soften the blow with a couple of sweet text messages?
Opening up our message thread, my fingers fly over the letters.
Hey, so I bought a plane. Isn’t that great? Miss you Xx
But I decide to delete it, and try going down a different route.
I hope you’re not working too hard? x
I don’t have to wait long before my phone flashes up with a reply.
Morning, beautiful. Yep, I’m working hard like I always do. What are you up to? X
It's a good sign; he’s not in a mood. I can do this.
I grab myself a coffee and sit on the porch. The wildflowers are buzzing with bees. It makes me smile, knowing I’m helping the environment while they collect pollen on their little furry jackets.