Authors: Ruthie Robinson
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #African American, #General
“I don’t get a hug?” Piper asked him.
“I almost killed you,” he said, fighting back tears.
“Nope. See? Fine,” she said, holding her arms outstretched, smile in place.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I know, dude,” she said. “Give me a hug.” He went to her, hugging her tightly.
* * *
It was later that morning. Piper hadn’t made pancakes after all. She just sat at the table while Joe prepared omelets—his specialty, according to Shane. The kids seemed to be fine after a million questions over brunch and had just headed upstairs to play video games. Seems video games were the antidote to any troubles in the world. Joe was helping her put her dishes away. She stood near the counter, more watching him than working.
Piper talked and laughed, recounting the events of this morning from her perspective, waking up finding the EMTs over her. She hadn’t known where she was at first, thought she had been in her dad’s boxing gym and gotten knocked out. She had experienced that one time when her mouth had surpassed her boxing proficiency and she’d challenged some guy to a bout. She had awakened to her dad’s concerned face standing over her, more embarrassed than hurt.
“It took years off of my life, driving over here, worried, not knowing what I’d find,” he said, his smile turning serious. “I’m sorry. It seems that Shane was attempting to follow in his Uncle Joe’s footsteps, and not the ones worth following. He’d apparently seen me do something similar at home before with some of my female friends.”
“I see,” she replied, laughing again. He stood there, watching her laugh at what could have been a serious injury.
“What has Shane seen, exactly?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eye, wicked smile at her lips.
“None of your business,” he said, turning around and removing the last of the dishes from the top portion of her dishwasher.
“Come on, you can tell me. We’re friends, right?” she said, walking closer to him.
“Nope. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” he said.
“That bad, huh?” she said.
“Not going to say either way,” he said. It was quiet as he looked through her cabinets, searching for what went where. She took a seat behind him.
“Joe,” she said.
“What?” he said absentmindedly as he searched through her cabinets. Was this where the plates belonged? Nope. Glasses. How many glasses does one woman need? he wondered, closing it and opening another. Okay, plates belonged here.
“We’re friends, right?”
“Last I checked, but maybe not since my nephew tried to kill you,” he said, laughing, starting to stack the plates into the cabinet.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said.
“That can’t be good,” he said, and laughed again, this time dodging her foot.
“Well, how about instead of having those…women over all the time, at your house in front of Shane, you could just have me,” she said, her words rushed now. “It could just be me, us, just like you asked for at the beginning,” she said, watching him slow down in his placement, going back to the dishwasher. “I could take care of those needs occasionally, and you take care of mine.”
He turned to her. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” she said, her eyes locked on his, taking in his startled expression. She forged ahead. “You know I have needs, too. With the girls living with me those needs are never met. Not that they were met before they’d moved in, but then at least there was the possibility. Not so much now. Unlike you, I just don’t have people throwing themselves at me. Plus, I know you. You’re a good guy. You know me. We’re friends, so why can’t we…sort of like killing two birds with one stone.”
He’d never heard it described quite that way before.
“Tell me you hadn’t thought of it again?”
“I had,” he said.
“See, great minds think alike. It’s a perfect idea. Now I’m used to the girls. They’re on a schedule, at school most of the day. We know each other’s schedules, the kids’ schedules. We can work around them. We meet on Mondays to plan the week, right? We don’t always have to meet at the coffee shop. Sometimes you don’t have to be in to work early. There is ample time. What do you think?”
He sighed. Hell, yeah, it’s what he always wanted, so why the reservations now?
“How about we take some time to think it over?”
“What’s there to think about?” she asked. She felt as if she’d just had the wind kicked out of her.
“Don’t get me wrong. I want to, you know that, and after last night watching you in the swimsuit I was going to ask you to reconsider the hookup question again, Mr. Marshall got in the way,” he said, glancing over at her, finding surprise on her face at that comment.
“But now that the option is placed before me, I find I have reservations. Well, more like a reservation.”
“What?” she asked.
“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” he said, and smiled at the surprise that registered on her face. “I know. I’ve come to rely on you. You’ve come to mean a lot to Shane, plus I value your friendship, too. I like you. Sex, I can have with anyone. Friendships haven’t been so easy for me to find. I don’t have many. My choice, I know, but I do value yours.” He was as sincere as she had ever seen him.
Ahhhhhh, she thought internally, pushing forward now that there was a little daylight showing through the fog. “It doesn’t have to alter our friendship. I mean, FWB is the way the world works nowadays, right? I can handle it if you can.”
He was silent for a second or two. “Occasional, huh?” he said, looking at her, one eyebrow lifting, sly smile at his lips.
He turned away, back to removing the last of her dishes. What am I doing? She was offering him what he wanted, and he was hesitating.
“So do you want to give it a try?” she asked.
“I need you to promise me one thing,” he said, turning to her again.
“What?”
“You have to always be honest with me,” he said, gazing into her eyes, intense and focused on her. “If this becomes too much for you, your emotions get too involved, you let me know. This isn’t going to turn into a long-term thing for me. You need to know that up front. I value you too much to have you think otherwise.”
It was quiet for a second as she processed his words. Okay, she hadn’t thought he was in for the long term anyway, but that could change. The dreamy-eyed optimist within her always kept hope alive.
“Okay then,” she replied, looking around, suddenly nervous.
“One more thing. I should warn you that I’m demanding when it comes to sex. If this is to be an exclusive relationship, I think you need to know what you’re signing up for,” he said, lifting an eyebrow in question.
“And how demanding is demanding?”
“Demanding,” he said, and gave her a look that could boil water.
She cleared her throat. “I can do demanding,” she said. She hoped so, anyway. “Demanding, like in everyday demanding?” Her eyebrows lifted in question, seeking confirmation. “Like what? Not whips and chains kind of demanding,” she said.
“Nope. No whips or chains, unless you want to,” he said and laughed at her expression. “But maybe other things.”
“Other things, huh? Nothing painful,” she said, seriously biting into her bottom lip.
He fought against smiling.
“Not painful, but often,” he said.
“Often can be painful,” she replied, her eyes glued to his now. “So how often is often?” she asked.
“Enough,” he said, watching her face. She was not a very good poker player. “So are you sure about this? Is this what you’re signing up for, what you had in mind?”
“Uh…” she said, looking around, not so sure anymore. She stood quiet for a second, took a deep breath and found his eyes again. “I’m sure.”
He shrugged. “Here’s an out. We’ll give it a try and if it’s too much for you, just say so and we’ll stop.”
She nodded, a small movement, her eyes turned inward, considering.
“Okay, it’s a deal,” she said.
“When do we start? Do you want to go out first?” Joe asked.
“No, that’s not necessary. I’d have to find a sitter and so would you. I don’t need all that wining and dining stuff, don’t have time for it, anyway. So how about we just do what comes natural, you know, just let nature take its course,” she said, proud of herself for her pragmatism.
“Do what comes natural,” he said, mulling that over in his mind. And when was that, exactly? He rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Is there a timeframe for when things come naturally?”
“No, whenever you feel like it’s natural,” she said.
He turned back to the counter and finished with her dishes, closing the cabinet doors as she started to talk about the Thanksgiving trip. He half listened, his mind on their new agreement.
The following Sunday found Piper at home enjoying the peace and quiet, a reminder of her life before kids. The girls were at a birthday party, not due home for another five hours. It was one of those six-hour thingies, held at one of those all-in-one places that included a movie, bowling, laser tag, video arcade, and food. She’d dropped Taylor and Kennedy off about an hour ago. Joe had been in charge of getting Shane there. A parent who lived nearby was bringing all three to her home—returning a favor—and Joe would pick Shane up from here.
“What are we doing here, Cowboys?” she asked the TV as she sat on the couch, reading a book, and half listening to the football game. Her feet were up, a glass of wine on the table in front of her.
The doorbell rang and she groaned. The dogs started in with their barking while she debated whether or not she should answer it. She looked over at McKenzie and Pepper standing in front of it, searching their tails for clues. Friend or foe? The duo barked regardless, but tail wagging in earnest meant friend, not stiff and pointed, the sign of the enemy.
Piper sat up, pushed herself up from the sofa and moseyed over to door. Her breath hitched after she recognized Joe standing on the other side. He wasn’t due here for another five hours, not unless he was coming for…Remain calm, she told herself and opened the door. He looked good, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Hey,” she said. “You’re early.”
“I had some errands to run after I dropped off Shane. They took less time than I thought so instead of going home I decided I’d stop by and see what you were up to,” he said, peering over her shoulder. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, just reading and watching the game. Come on in,” she said, stepping aside and letting him enter. As she closed the door behind him he squatted down to scratch the neck of two of his favorite friends.
“What game?” he asked.
“Cowboys at Arizona,” she said, walking back into the living room and taking her place back on the sofa.
“Make yourself at home,” she said, watching him as he walked over and settled on the other portion of her couch. Guess not today, either. She’d thought he’d jump right on her request, but no, he’d proceeded as normal, hadn’t mentioned it again or made any moves toward her. It had been a week since they agreed to more.
“Want anything to drink?” she asked.
“Nope. I’ll just watch the game for a while,” he said.
“Here’s the remote. I’m not tied to this game, doing more reading than watching,” she said, handing the remote over to him. He flipped through channels and watched her out of the corner of his eye. He watched as her head fell back to her book.
He glanced again, taking in her feet stretched out before her—nice toes painted blue with white stripes, shorts cut high, t-shirt snug over her breasts. He went back to flipping channels and ended up back where he’d started.
“So, Piper,” he said, watching her eyes finish reading before she looked at him. “I was thinking that now might be that natural time you’d talked about. What do you think?”
“Natural,” she repeated. Her eyes had moved from the book to the TV. She was now preoccupied with a commercial advertising a sale of shoes, confusion marking her face. A few seconds later it cleared. “Natural, oh, that kind of natural?” She looked over at him. “Right now?”
“Yep,” he said, all relaxed like, spread out on her sofa. She skimmed his body from head to toe and back.
“Now,” she said again.
“Well you did say that you didn’t want any wining and dining, and the kids are gone for,” he checked his watch, “five more hours. And someone else is dropping them off here, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, why not right now?” he said, watching her face and the feelings that passed over them like the wind—recognition, shock, acceptance, interest, and, finally, apprehension.
“Okay…where? Here on the couch?”
Here works, he thought. “Where would you like to go?”
“My room?” she asked.
“Your room it is,” he said and stood up. Now that she was on board, he was so there.
He watched her stand. She ran a hand through her hair, turned, and eyed the stairs. Come on, Piper, this is what you said you wanted. Let’s go, she thought and headed for the steps. He followed, and she could feel him at her back, his eyes glued to the sway of her hips, cheeks curvy and full, his hands held in his pockets to keep from reaching for them.