“No, we’re just about finished with the hotel’s garden, but we need another dozen red chard and six Italian parsley.”
I deposit the asters in the customer’s cart and ring her up while Oliver stands behind me.
“Sir, you need to wait in line,” Kai says.
“I’m waiting for Vivian,” Oliver replies.
“He needs a half dozen Italian parsley and a dozen red chard,” I say while swiping the customer’s credit card through the machine.
“Well, Vivian is busy so I’ll grab them, but you still need to go to the back of the line, sir.” Kai’s losing his politeness and I recognize the possessiveness in his voice as he says my name.
I sigh with a scowl. “I’ll get them. Take over the register.”
Kai huffs but bites his tongue while the corners of Oliver’s mouth pull up into a sly smile.
“Don’t act so cocky, everyone in that long line is shooting daggers at you.” I worm my way to the back.
“Yeah, well just think of this as returning the favor.”
“Excuse me? For what? Getting me drunk?” My voice elevates an octave.
“For sharing my mom’s cobbler.”
I stop and turn so fast Oliver nearly bowls me over with his forward motion. “You did not share! You took the last bite and made me lick the bowl like a dog!” I feel numerous sets of eyes on us and hear a few snickers in the background.
Oliver surveys our audience with a hesitant grin. “I didn’t make you lick the bowl.”
I turn and push through the backdoor to where the vegetable and herb seedlings are kept. “I only have ten red chard, but I do have six parsley.” After arranging them in the cardboard flat, I shove them into Oliver’s chest. “I’ll add these to Chance’s tab and now you owe me a favor.”
He chuckles. “What’s that?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know.”
He wets his lips and explores my face with those intense blue eyes. “I wanted to kiss you.”
My nose wrinkles. “You did?”
He nods.
The calm façade on the outside masks the exuberant celebration going on inside my body. “Well that moment has passed and you can’t get it back.”
Oliver cocks his head to the side. “I can’t get it back?”
“Nope, it’s like the cobbler … gone forever. But I might let you lick my hand or brush my hair sometime, you know, as a consolation prize.”
He raises his brows and I wish I could read his mind, but he’s mastered the arcane expression.
“As much as I’d love to decipher what that look means, I have to get back to work.”
Oliver gives me a lopsided grin. “Later, neighbor.”
“So who’s the guy getting preferential treatment?” Kai asks as we piece together what’s left of the greenhouse after the tornado of people that tore through here today.
I sweep a pile of leaves and dirt into the dustpan that he’s holding. “Chance’s brother.”
“Oh jeez, another Konrad to fight off.” Kai shakes his head.
Unsure how to respond, I shrug my shoulders. I don’t want to fight off Oliver. Attack him? Yes. That’s the problem. I’m so intrigued by him I can’t see straight. My vision and my mind are blurred.
“Oliver is not Chance.”
“How do you know?” Kai stands dusting off the front of his shirt.
“Well, he hasn’t asked me out or tried to feel me up behind the compost pile.”
“Yet,” Kai deadpans.
“Yeah, well maybe I want him to.”
He empties the dustpan in the garbage and turns, resting one fist on his hip. “What’s that supposed to mean.”
It pisses me off that Kai acts like it’s absurd that I might be interested in Oliver. “It means exactly what you think it means.”
He shakes his head. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“You don’t even know him!” I cross my arms over my chest, toe-tapping a staccato.
“Is everything okay?” Maggie flips her pin-straight platinum blond hair away from her face while digging her keys out of her purse.
“Everything’s fine,” I mumble.
“We’ll I’m pooped so I’ll see you Monday.” She pushes her studious, red-framed glasses up on her nose. I see that loving twinkle in her baby blue eyes as she leans in to give me a quick hug then shakes her finger at Kai. “Be nice.”
“Mags, I’m always nice.” Kai winks at her as if his boyish charm is going to work on someone who is older than his mom.
The crazy part is Maggie blushes every time Kai flashes his flawless smile. She’s never been married. Maybe she’s a closet cougar. I’d say she looks good for fifty, but truthfully she looks good for any age. She’s completely changed her lifestyle since her first cancer diagnosis by eating a plant-based diet and exercising every day. She’s thin and petite, the top of her head barely reaching my chest. Basically she’s Alex thirty years from now except Alex has larger breasts and her long blond hair falls to her butt.
“You’re unbelievable.” I roll my eyes at Kai as Maggie walks to her white Prius.
“Unbelievably charming? Unbelievably handsome?”
“Unbelievably arrogant.” I give him a playful shove.
“So where are you taking me to dinner?” Kai drapes his arm around my shoulders as I lock up the back door. For some reason, maybe self-preservation, my mind erased the promise of dinner I made to Kai this morning when he agreed to help out Maggie and me.
“Since you drove today, I was thinking a quick trip through McDonalds, my treat of course.”
Kai, showing off his manners, opens the passenger door to his grey Honda Pilot. “Superb idea! That will save us plenty of time to find some good porn on Netflix to watch while you give me a hand job on the couch. After all, I think that’s the best friend’s responsibility when the significant other is out of the country.”
Before I can respond he shuts my door and swaggers around to the driver’s side.
“You’re right, I’ll call Sean and see if he can fit you into his hand job schedule tonight. I have to believe that he knows how to stroke a dick better than I do. I’m sure Alex could please me better than you.”
“God, Viv! Talk as much as you want about you and Alex pleasing each other … I dig that shit, but if you ever mention Sean and my dick in the same sentence again, I will seriously lose my lunch in your face. Yuck!”
“So Casa Romero, you watch porn at your place and no hand job it is.” I laugh as Kai pulls out of the parking lot.
There’s nothing typical about my relationship with Kai. I hate him almost as much as I love him. The decision to never be more than friends again was mine and I haven’t regretted it once. However, I still get a pang of jealously when I see him with Kate. The lucid part of my brain knows it’s what they have, not who they have. Kai is my comfort. He’s familiar and as much as we joke around, I never feel the need to impress him. I know he would have chosen me, stayed with me, and eventually we may have been able to forget and love each other the way every human deserves to be loved.
Lately there has been a shift. The face I once couldn’t wait to see is the same one I now avoid, for instance, fake tampon runs. Kai looks at me with glasses from the past. He assumes he knows me better than anyone so if I try to take a new path, he’s the first one to remind me that I’ll most likely get lost. Kai is the mother that yells to her daughter as she heads out the door for her first date, “Don’t forget your acne medication, sweetie, don’t want you waking up with hamburger face in the morning.” There’s nothing worse than trying to make a good first impression when someone who knows your darkest secrets and biggest fears is standing behind you with a megaphone.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Kai asks, pulling up in front of my condo.
“Washing my hair.” I open the door and he clutches my arm.
“What’s been up with you lately?”
I deflate a little with regret. “Nothing, I’m just …”
“PMSing?”
I laugh because Kai may be a brilliant student and he’ll probably be an equally brilliant doctor someday, but when it comes to reading women who don’t want sex from him, he has the skills of a toddler.
“Yeah, sure, I’m probably just PMSing.”
“Well, take some Advil and eat some chocolate or something. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He smiles, once again oblivious to what’s really happening in my life.
“Bye, Kai Pie.”
“Stop calling me—”
I slam the door and grin at his huffy scowl. He pulls away from the curb allowing my gaze to lift to the set of steps across the street. I glance both ways then walk toward my insanely handsome neighbor.
“You’re a ball of yarn and a set of knitting needles away from looking like a complete dork sitting out here with only a few minutes left of daylight on a Saturday evening.”
Oliver takes his time allowing his eyes to explore me while brushing his index finger over his bottom lip. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been called a dork before.”
“Not to your face anyway.” I giggle.
His eyes find mine and he shakes his head, relinquishing a slight grin. “Come in for some wine.” He holds out his hand.
“Thanks, but no thanks.” I gesture to my clothes. I’m a mess from today, in desperate need of a shower, and it’s a little creepy that you’re so quick to try and get me tipsy.”
“So invite me over and take a shower while I get a little tipsy.”
Gathering my hair in my hands, I pull it off my neck, feeling sweaty on this balmy evening. “You really think that’s a good idea?”
Oliver scrubs his hands over his face. “Probably not, but I’m all out of good ideas tonight.”
Releasing a deep breath, I offer him my hand. “You’re more dangerous than your brother.”
He takes my hand and stands. “Why do you say that?”
“Because it’s easy to say no to him.”
I’m in the shower, naked, and Oliver’s downstairs. I’m in the shower naked, and Oliver’s downstairs.
My mind reels. I’m alone in the shower having the most erotic moment of my life. Desire blossoms and just his proximity downstairs heightens all my senses. It’s his hands massaging shampoo into my hair, sliding down my neck and over my breasts, teasing my erect nipples. Closing my eyes I feel his fingers dip between my legs, parting me and teasing me.
“Oh God!” I moan, resting my other hand on the shower wall while my fingers, his fingers, pulse over my most sensitive area.
Knock, knock, knock!
“I’m going to run home and grab my phone, be right back.” Oliver’s voice drenches me in cold water.
“O-okay.” The frog in my throat croaks.
I skip the orgasm—wouldn’t be the first time that opportunity has gone down the drain. After drying off, I pick out a pair of light pink lace panties and a matching bra. Not to look sexy—that would be a lost cause—just to feel sexy. There really is something to be said for feeling sexy. I know it changes my whole persona. One day I wore a long sundress without any underwear and Alex commented on me having an extra bounce in my step.
Lotion, perfume, a little makeup, and a partial drying of my hair expedites my return to Oliver. Turning my back toward the full-length mirror, I glance around to see how much of my ink shows along the straps of my tank top. Not much, just enough to make me look mysterious, sexy, and badass. Okay, that’s Alex’s quote, but I like how she thinks.
“Looking for a better offer?” I tease, skipping down the stairs seeing Oliver messing with his phone.
“Yes, but it appears you’re as good as it’s going to get tonight.”
“Funny guy, huh?”
“Not usually.”
“You tipsy yet?” I grab my purse.
“Not yet. You haven’t exactly been the most gracious hostess.”
“Let’s go then.” I open the door and wait.
“Go where?” He stands and hesitates a moment before walking to the door.
“J.P. Licks for mango sherbet.”
“You want me to come watching you eat ice cream?”
“What did you just—”
He scratches his stubbly jaw. “Shit, I didn’t mean or what I meant was coming … uh, crap! I just meant we’re coming together … dammit!”
It’s quite possible I could wet my pants I’m laughing so hard as he stumbles through his self-induced awkward moment, rubbing his face and tugging at his hair.
“Never mind, let’s just go,” he mumbles, walking ahead of me.
I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes. Hurrying to catch up with him, I grab his hand and interlace our fingers. He looks down at our hands and then at me.
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