Frenched Series Bundle (43 page)

“You think it’s wrong to do it right here?” I rubbed my lips back and forth on his before kissing my way to that spot beneath his ear that drove him crazy. I licked it before pressing my mouth to his warm wet skin, smiling when I felt his body shiver.

“No, I don’t think it’s wrong. I think it’s the rightest thing we could possibly do right now. It’s all kinds of right.” His hands slid under my dress and pulled at my underwear. “But let’s hurry—this road isn’t busy, but it isn’t always this deserted either.”

No argument here.

I slipped one leg from my panties, leaving them looped around the other thigh. Glancing over my shoulder at the road—no sign of anyone—I undid his jeans and took his cock in my hand. Rising up on my knees, I positioned the tip between my legs before sinking down on him, inch by mind-blowing inch.

Nick watched me with a look of pure rapture on his face.

“Jesus,” he breathed, grabbing my hips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“And so wet.” I smiled, circling my hips a few times, arching my back to feel pressure where I wanted it. I knew we couldn’t take our time, but I wanted to savor this moment a little—the sweet summer air, Nick’s hot, hard body between my thighs; his thick fullness within me; even the secret thrill of getting caught. I’d never had sex outside in the daylight. It was delightfully liberating. I slid my palms beneath his shirt, flattened them on his torso. Fuck, he was just so gorgeous—I could look at that mouth all day. And those arms—my eyes skimmed over his muscular, tattooed forearms to the strong wrists at my hips. Guided by Nick’s hands, I moved my body over his, faster and faster, the tension pulling tight between us.

“Yes,” he growled, his eyes closing, his head dropping back. “Fuck yes. I’m gonna come...so hard…”

But I came first, my insides clenching his cock like a vise before the tension eased in beautiful, flowing contractions that had me sighing one long, drawn-out note. Just as my orgasm finished, Nick’s began, and I felt his body stiffen and shudder, heard his low moan of blissful relief.
My God, we’re so good together. Why does it have to be so good?

Collapsing on his chest, I buried my face in his neck, my chest rising and falling in time with his.

His hands slid up my back. “Oh my God. I can’t even think. What are we doing?”

I giggled. “Being friends?”

“Oh, right. Friends.”

I knew I should get up, clean up, wise up. But it was just so peaceful and comfortable, lying there on his chest, our bodies still connected, Nick’s hands rubbing my back.

“Coco. I have to tell you something.”

I sat up and smiled at him, squeezed his cock with my core muscles. “Let me guess. Your dick is really fucking happy right now.”

“No.” He shook his head, his expression serious. “I just realized something.”

“What?”

“I’m still in love with you.”

“Let me up.” I tried to get off him, but his hands pinned me to his body.

“No. I want to talk about this. About us.”

“Well, I don’t. And if you can’t separate sex from love, then we’re eliminating sex from the equation. We should have done that already.”

“These are my feelings, not a math problem.”

“Fine.” I looked around, threw up a hand. “I like how you bring me all the way out here to the country where I can’t escape to break the rules.”

“You never said I couldn’t talk about my feelings.”

Again I tried to get off him, and this time he let me. Warmth trickled down my leg, and I hunted around for a napkin. If it got on my dress, I’d have to change. “Do we not have napkins?” I asked, agitated.

“I think I forgot to buy them. Use the blanket.”

“The four hundred dollar Amish quilt?”

“OK, here.” Grabbing his t-shirt behind his neck, he whipped it off and handed it to me. “Use this. I’ll grab another shirt from the car.”

I took the shirt and cleaned up with it, turning away from him a little, and Nick packed up the trash and extra food. When I was done, I folded up the shirt and tugged my underwear back in place. I was sticky and still a bit wet, but it was better than nothing. “Are you ready to go?”

“No. I want to talk.”

“Nick, I said
no
.” I started to stand, but he grabbed my arm, his grip firm.

“Then let me talk. You can just listen.”

“I don’t want to listen.”

“Are you shutting me out to punish me? Is that what this is about?” he demanded.

“No!” Wait, it wasn’t, was it?

“Then what? Why won’t you even listen to me?

What are you so afraid of?”

I looked at him, fighting the urge to tell him the truth. I might have beaten it if he wasn’t shirtless and I couldn’t see the sheen of sweat on his chest or my name near his heart. Maybe I’d have won if his hair wasn’t a little messy, or if I hadn’t looked down at his wrists, that Shinola watch glinting in the sunlight. “It’s a list a mile long.”

He let go of my arm. “Starting with…”

“Starting with being afraid to hear your excuse for leaving me.”

“It’s not an excuse—nothing excuses what I did. It’s just an explanation.”

“Well, I don’t want to hear it. It will only make me feel worse.”

“Why would that be?”

“Because no matter what you say, the fact remains that you didn’t love me enough to stay, Nick. You didn’t even love me enough to say goodbye.”

Nick closed his eyes and exhaled. “Go on. What else are you afraid of?”

“I don’t trust you.”

He met my eye. “I understand that. I hurt you deeply.”

“You did. Many times, but especially the final time. So you can tell me you love me all you want, but it won’t mean a thing to me. You said it then, too. You still broke my heart.”

He set his lips in a grim line. “Is that everything?”

“I’m afraid of being hurt again, obviously. I don’t want you to have that power over me. If I don’t believe what you say, if I don’t tell you how I’m feeling, if I don’t even admit it to myself, then I can keep you from breaking my heart again.”

“That’s ridiculous, Coco. Just because you don’t admit to a feeling doesn’t make it vanish. Look, we said last night we were just going to be friends, I get it. But things are different now.”

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours!”

He put a hand on my leg. “But we have history. That has weight. It has meaning. And you of all people know that just because something is in the past doesn’t mean it’s dead and buried.”

Oh, how I knew. I closed my eyes, feeling just how alive our feelings for each other were. But the fear was there, too. Would it ever go away? Would I ever kiss him goodbye in the morning and be absolutely certain that he’d be there in the evening? What if every time he walked out the door, I had that uneasy feeling he was leaving forever?

Then again, what if I never felt for anyone the things I felt for him now? What if my first love
was
supposed to be my last?

Give me a sign
, I begged the universe.
Anything.

But the universe remained silent.

“What do you want from me?” My voice was small, retreating, just like my defenses.

“Right now, I just want you to say that we can talk about…things. Maybe the past, maybe the future, but I want to hear that you’re at least open to the idea.”

You will regret this
, said common sense, but I heard my voice say, “Fine. We can talk. But not right now, OK? I need some time to think things through.”

“No problem. I’m ready when you are.” He stood and reached down to help me up. “I mussed you,” he said, smoothing a few stray hairs away from my face.

“It’s OK. I think it was more the convertible than you. I’ll redo it when we get to Noni’s.” We gathered up our things and folded the quilt. “You want to know something else that scares me?” I asked as we walked back to the car.

“What?”

“I liked your daydream about our alternate present a little too much.”

He looked at me sideways, a smile hooking up one corner of his mouth. “Yeah? The one with the broom and four kids?”

“Yeah.” I shook my head, as if I could rid it of such insanity. I didn’t want his kids…did I? “What the hell is that?”

#

Nick pulled on a clean shirt from his bag and I discreetly traded my damp panties for a new pair before we left. On the short drive to the farm, we listened to the radio instead of talking to each other, and even though I was addled, I found myself humming along to a scratchy old Ella Fitzgerald tune. Everything about this day was telling me to relax and enjoy life, but I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that things weren’t as perfect as they seemed. Was I just paranoid?

We turned off the road onto the winding drive leading to the big old white farmhouse. I hadn’t been here in years, but little details about the place had memories swarming my mind like honeybees—the tire swing hanging from a huge old maple tree, the long front porch with its Adirondack chairs in need of a fresh coat of paint, the second floor window of the room I used to stay in, not far from the window of the room Nick used to sneak out of and come visit me in the night. My room had the creakiest bed on the planet. Nick said Noni couldn’t hear a thing so we should just do it anyway, but I never could bring myself to have sex on that bed. (We did it on the floor instead.)

Beyond the house were barns and other outbuildings, and beyond those stretched fields of corn and the orchards. Somewhere out there was a small lake we used to swim in after a run. I wondered if Nick felt like running this afternoon—after the way I’d been eating, I sure could use one. Nick put the top up, and I latched the lever on my side before getting out.

“How about a run this afternoon?” I asked as we pulled our bags from the trunk.

“Did you bring your running stuff?” He looked at me, surprised, before leaning into the backseat to retrieve the cooler.

“Yeah, and my bathing suit. I remembered how we used to run here and then swim afterward. That was a lot of fun.”

“It was.” He shut the trunk. “I have my running stuff too. Let’s say hi to Noni and then we’ll go. Although,” he added as we walked up the steps to the porch, “I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” He moved ahead of me to open the screen door and grinned over his shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to swim naked.”

“Swim
naked
! Who’s that?”

I smiled at hearing Noni’s voice again for the first time in years.

“Fuck, her new hearing aid. I forgot,” Nick whispered as we stepped into the entrance hall. Time flowed backward as I breathed in the fresh-baked-pie meets dusty-antique-furniture smell of Noni’s house and heard the squeak and slap of the wooden screen door closing behind me. I was nineteen again. Young, bursting with feelings for Nick, up for anything.

And fearless. Utterly fearless.

To the left of the stairs in front of us was the dining room, and to the right was the room Noni called her parlor. She sat in a rocker near the front window, a book on her lap.

“Hi, Noni. I brought you a birthday present.

Remember Coco?”

She winked at me. “Coco? The lesbian girlfriend?”

“That’s the one. Although she’s not quite as lesbian as I’d like her to be. At least occasionally.”

I slapped Nick on the shoulder. “Nick, for heaven’s sake. Happy Birthday, Noni. I hope it’s all right that Nick invited me along. I’ve missed visiting here.”

Noni reached out one hand. “Give me a hand standing up, will you, honey?” I took her hand and helped her to her feet before kissing her on the cheek. Except for a bit less silver hair on her head, she looked exactly the same. Little old lady glasses. Sky blue tracksuit with orthopedic shoes. Slightly hunched posture, which made her seem even shorter than she was. “Look at you, just as pretty as you were years ago. How did this no-good bum get you back?”

“I haven’t yet, Noni. You have to help me. This is all part of my scheme to win back her affections.” Nick put the cooler down and kissed his grandmother’s cheek while I shot him a dirty look. He was enlisting Noni in this effort? No fair.

“Oh, she’s too smart for schemes, honey.” Noni squeezed my hand and held my gaze. “You’ll have to make an honest effort. She’s no fool.” Then, in a move that reminded me of Sitty, she slid her keen eyes over to him.
“Capisce?”

Nick nodded, and they exchanged a look that made me wonder what his grandmother knew.

“Are you kids hungry? I got some ham. Come on, let me fix you a plate.” She moved between us, walking slowly with a slight limp. Nick and I exchanged a secret smile at her familiar desire to feed every mouth that walked through her door within five minutes, and my heart ka-whumped unexpectedly.

“No thanks, Noni. We just ate. How’s your new hip these days?” Nick picked up the cooler and followed her from the room, dropping his bag near the stairs. I did the same, glancing briefly up the stairs and wondering if Nick expected us to share a bedroom here.

“Oh, fine.” She thumped her hip twice as she walked through the dining room. “Practically good as new.” Pushing open an old swinging door, she shuffled into the spacious farmhouse kitchen. It had probably been remodeled several times in the last hundred years, but I doubted much had changed in the last twenty-five. Even though I was full, my mouth watered at the sight of two pies on the counter, one lattice-topped and one with tiny teardrop shapes cut into its golden crust.

“I brought a cake, Noni. Do you want it in the fridge?” Nick set the cooler on the old round table for eight and opened it up. Carefully he lifted the cake plate from it and set it on the counter.

“There is fine.” Noni opened a low cupboard and pulled out a blue plastic cake plate cover, which had cracked in several places and was held together by brown tape. As she placed it over the cake, Nick and I looked at each other and shook our heads. Noni never threw anything away with a day’s use left in it.

“Now I know what to buy you for a present,” Nick said. “A new cake plate cover.”

“Nonsense, that one’s fine. Want some pizzelle?

Marie made them yesterday.” She opened up a large margarine container that actually had cookies in it. Old lady Tupperware. “We could have a snack out on the porch since the heat’s not so bad today.”

Marie was Nick’s mother. I’d always liked her, but I experienced a strange twist in my gut, realizing that I’d have to face all of Nick’s family tonight at the birthday dinner. What did they know? What would our story be? I’d have to ask Nick what he’d told them seven years ago, which meant opening the door to a conversation about our past.

But maybe it was time.

#

The last thing I needed was more food, but it was homemade pizzelle. I couldn’t say no. Nick and I each took one and followed Noni out onto the porch. She chose a rocker at one end, and Nick and I dropped into two chairs side by side. The first bite of my cookie—sweet and light and delicious—made me smile, remembering how Angelina had said
anus
when she meant
anise
.

“What’s funny?” Nick asked.

Giggling, I told them the story, cringing slightly when I had to utter the word
anus
in front of Noni. But Nick laughed out loud, shaking his head. “I can’t wait to meet this girl.”

“She’s quite a character.” I munched the last of my cookie and contemplated having another one.

“Hey, these chairs need a little paint, Noni.” Nick ran a hand along the peeling surface of one arm. “Do you have any? I can do them before I go tomorrow.”

“I think so. In the shed. You can ask your uncle Bill, he’d know.”

If I remembered right, Bill was the uncle that ran the farm, and his family lived in a home somewhere on the extensive property. But Nick had a lot of aunts and uncles and cousins—I never could keep them straight. “Hey, Nick,” I said, remembering our conversation about family history from last night, “let’s ask Noni about that picture.”

“What picture?” Noni asked.

“It’s a wedding photograph of Papa Joe and Tiny Lupo. My mother gave me a copy to put in the restaurant.”