She bats her eyes playfully, and my cock likes it. I think my cock just likes her. But he likes a lot of women, so whatever. “Can you give me a lift?”
I roll my eyes. “No, I’m gonna leave your ass here.” I shimmy out of the powder-dusted vest. “I gotta stop by my folks’ place, though. I’m anxious to get there; they only live forty minutes from your place downtown.”
“Okay,” she nods. “I can wait in the truck for you.”
I roll my eyes again. “You ain’t waiting in the truck. My Mom ain’t letting me leave a woman outside for an hour.”
She grins as she closes the distance between us, reaching around me for the door to leave. “Gotta make Mom happy.” She’s teasing, but my allegiance to my parents ain’t a joke.
“They’re all I have,” I reply gruffly before I turn, take the door from her hand, and swing it open. She doesn’t respond but steps around me, waiting patiently for me to lock up. When I’m taking the porch steps by two, I realize she ain’t movin’, and I remember her dumb shoes.
From the bottom step, I extend a hand to her. “Come on. Get down here, and I’ll toss you over my shoulder so your teenage shoes stay dry.”
She bounces down the steps. “Converse aren’t only for teenagers, grandpa.”
Easily, I hoist her over my shoulder and fight the urge to swat her fine little ass for that comment. I grunt. “This grandpa is saving your ass.”
“Thanks, pops,” she laughs as I trudge through the powder to the passenger side of my pickup. I spent the morning shoveling the drive, and the main road is consistently shoveled and salted by the National Park ranger since the cabin is within park limits. All we gotta do now is leave. My heart crushes my ribs as her fingers scrape up my back and down my shoulders as I slowly release her to the seat.
“You’re welcome,” I gruff, slamming the door shut without taking a second look at the pink tip of her nose and the way the powder in her flyaways makes her look all angelic and shit.
Once we’re on the road for twenty minutes, getting close to my folks’ place, Goldie’s phone rings. Her reluctant sigh pretty much tells me who’s calling.
“Hey, Mom,” she says, her energy deflated completely. “No, I can’t. I’m… going to be out of town for a few days.” Our eyes meet across the cab, and she winces a little. “Yeah, Beck’s boyfriend’s cabin.” The woman’s words aren’t audible, but I swear I can feel the pitch of her tone from here. “Yeah, she does have a serious boyfriend.” She nods her head, staring out the windshield. “Yeah, that is great for her.” When she turns to face the window on her side, I start to feel annoyed. What parent fuckin’ guilts their kid about being single?
I think about my Mom and the way she gently broached the topic. She wasn’t trying to make me feel like shit; she just wants me tolive. There’s a big fuckin’ difference. And Constance Berry sounds like a real fuckin’ snatch.
“Gotta go, Mom. Losing service. Bye!”
With my focus on the road, I extend a fist to her, and a tingle worms up my arm when she bumps her knuckles into mine. “Atta girl. Don’t listen to that shit.”
I’m relieved that she twists in her seat to face my direction. “She just… she wants me to have someone and have the dream job, and she just… goes about it all the wrong ways.”
I scratch the side of my jaw, trying to think about what I can say and what I shouldn’t say. I don’t get the chance to say the wrong thing because Goldie’s stomach roars with a growl.
She slaps her hand to her non-existent stomach, and when I glance at her, her cheeks flare with embarrassment. “Oh my gosh, that was so loud. How embarrassing. I just… ate so much this weekend. My body is confused.”
The fuck? I’m confused.
“Confused?”
She begins typing on her phone as she responds. “Yeah, like I overate, and now my body thinks we’re doing that.” Dropping her phone into her bag, she pats her stomach playfully. “We’re done overeating. Adjust.”
“You talk to your stomach?” I ask as we get nearer to my folks’ place. Entering the outskirts of Oakcreek, the roads are slushy, and I wonder when the storm shifted and hit the town so hard.
“Only when I feel like humiliating myself, apparently.”
We drive in silence until we’re at my folks’ place, and when I put the truck in park, I have a mind to tell her that she didn’t eat a lot this weekend, that she ate a normal goddamn amount, but I ain’t the one to be telling her anything. A wrecked man has no place giving advice.
She smooths her fingers through her hair, fixing her bun in the fold-down mirror. I don’t know why she cares what she looks like–my folks are gonna think she’s a goddamn knockout no matter what.
“My Mom’s name is Edith, and my Dad’s name is–”
“Harry,” she smiles, making my ribs tight. “I remember. Or, I guess I remember from eavesdropping.”
I like that she listened to my calls. I don’t know why. When Delane does it, it gets under my skin, when Goldie does it, my chest thumps.
“Come on,” I grunt, popping open my door. After getting to her side of the truck, I grab her around the upper arm to keep her steady in those ridiculous fuckin’ shoes as we make our way up the icy walk toward the front door.