On His Turf (18 page)
“Ohmygod,” I say in a rush of breath and he chuckles.
“Now, there’s no need to involve the good Lord - a tussle in the hay will often result in a few little souvenirs. I should know,” he adds, winking at his wife.
“I’ll remember that,” I manage to squeak out as I hoist myself into the cab. I notice that Shane is grinning from ear to ear as they wave us off down the driveway.
“I am completely mortified!” I cry out when the house is no longer in view. “You’re parents know that we had sex in their barn!”
“Babe, look at you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That wild sexy hair, the rosy flush to your cheeks, those plump swollen lips…damn just looking at you I want to take you again. So yeah, they knew, hay in your hair or not,” he explains and he seems pretty proud of himself.
“How are you not freaking out right now?” I ask.
“There’s a saying in Texas you might have heard before; ‘if you done it, it ain’t braggin’ and my kin know that better than anyone else.” He gives me a reassuring wink and turns the radio up loud as the truck barrels down the dark road in the direction of the city lights.
My feet are on fire by the time I make it back to my place and my toes are screaming at me from inside of my six inch heels. After taking time off for Salt Lake my bills have been begging me to play catch up so I took a few extra shifts at Fantasy Lounge. We had a full house tonight and it took three last calls to clear them all out. Add to that the battery on my crappy car dying and a jumpstart from Rick and I’m home way later than usual.
I take the stairs up to my place slowly, tightening my jacket around my shoulders to fend of the bite of cold that’s in the pre-dawn air. I’m inserting my key into the lock when a hand comes down on my shoulder making me scream out loud.
“Ahh!” I shriek as I whirl around and slam my body back against the door. I am about to deliver an epic kick to the nuts along with a handful of keys to an eyeball when I see Shane standing in front of me.
“Shit, babe, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says sheepishly.
“This from the man who tells me that I live in an unsafe building. Jesus Shane it’s 3:30 in the morning!” I whisper-shout, clutching a hand to my chest. “And you shouldn’t sneak up on people!”
I release the hold I have on my jacket as I try to steady my breathing. It falls open and his eyes narrow as they lock on to my uniform.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
Oh shit. “Clothes?” I try for flippant but he just snorts.
“Barely. Why would you wear that to work?” he presses as his eyes scan my bare legs.
Because it’s better than pasties and a thong
, I think to myself.
Because I have no choice.
But instead I settle on the first lie I can think of.
“Because it was theme night tonight.”
“And what theme would that be?” he challenges as he takes a step in my direction.
“Prohibition era?” I falter.
“Why would they do a theme at a sports bar?” He asks adding, “and why haven’t you invited me to come and see where you work yet?”
“I told you before it’s a long drive out of town just for you to sit there while I wait tables and ignore you.” The words come out in a rush and my heartbeat picks up again. So far he’s been pretty patient about my second job but I’ve been dreading this conversation for weeks. “Besides, the food is gross, the bar is even worse and I don’t want you to see me like that!” I explain, rubbing my shaking hands together to fend off the cold.
“Like what?” he raises an eyebrow, clearly unwilling to let the subject go.
“I don’t know,” I puff out a frustrated breath. “Slinging beers in an environment that I don’t even really like where sometimes I have to act like a different person.” And even though I haven’t been entirely truthful with Shane about what I do my words now couldn’t be truer.
“So quit,” he says matter-of-factly.
“I need the money.”
“I’ll give it to you,” he says, flashing me a dimpled simple.
“Not a chance and end of discussion. Now can we go inside already? I’m freezing.”
He looks me over once more and his dimples fade along with his smile. “I’m not surprised that you’re cold since you’re practically naked.”
“It’s a skirt and a top,” I say as I swing open the door and step through.
“It’s sexy as hell and it’s taking every ounce of my willpower not to strip you bare and bend you over the arm of the couch, but babe, I don’t ever want to see you in that outfit again. At least not outside the four walls of this apartment.”
“You can’t tell me what to wear, Shane,” I say tiredly as I flop down on the sofa. Once seated I slide off my patent leather heels and I swear I can actually hear my feet sigh in relief.
“Maybe I can’t but what I can do is show up at your workplace and stare down every jack off who looks at you a little too long.”
‘Fine!” I snap. “I told you it was a costume anyway. It was a one-time thing so please leave it alone. It was a busy night and I need some sleep!”
I toss my purse on to the coffee table but the zipper isn’t fully closed and some of my take from the night spills out. Shane sees it right away and he walks over to pick up a handful of the twenty dollar bills. He stares at the wad of cash for a moment then looks back at me.
“All this from a crappy sports bar with bad food?” he says, sounding suspicious.
“It’s Friday night and like I said it was swamped. I just came off a ten hour shift so please stop with the third degree.”
He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out and instead he places the cash back down on the coffee table. “I guess they must tip well in the suburbs.”
“They do,” I shrug and he sighs heavily.
“Believe it or not I didn’t come here to fight with you, babe.”
“Right now I don’t believe it,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest. “So why are you here so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I miss you.”
And as exhausted and emotional as I am right now those three little words melt all my frustration away. It’s only been a few days since we last saw each other and we’ve been texting a lot but the time apart has felt more like weeks.
“I’ve missed you too,” I admit. “I’m not used to feeling this way.”
“What way?” he asks as he takes a seat beside me on the sofa.
“It’s hard to explain.” I try to turn my face away but he captures my chin before I can.
“Try.”
“I guess it feels a little strange - this feeling like I need someone else to function right. I’m used to relying on myself.”
“Maybe you rely on yourself too much,” he whispers as he rubs his calloused thumb across my bottom lip. “I have to tell you, babe, your walls are like skyscrapers,” he says, softening the blow of his words with a crooked smile.
“I warned you that I wouldn’t be good at this,” I mumble and he laughs.
“Well then aren’t you lucky that I’m such a great climber?” He leans forward to place a gentle kiss on my lips. “But seriously, the fact that you just admitted you missed me and that you need me is more than enough to keep me going. It’s more than I thought you were prepared to give,” he explains.
“I want to give you everything,” I blurt out and I feel my face instantly flame. “I want to,” I repeat, this time more softly. “I’ve never wanted to do that with anyone I’ve dated before but you make me feel like it’s safe - like there’s something I’m missing out on by not taking a chance. It’s scary because I’ve never felt this way before and as much as I want to give you all of me I don’t know if I can.” As the words spill from my lips he guides me down so I’m lying on my back with him braced above me.
“You can. I know you can. Don’t overthink this, Carmelina,” he rasps as he presses his soft lips against mine. “Let me stay with you for what’s left of tonight and tomorrow you can take me to meet your mom.”
“You want to meet my mother?” I say hesitantly and he quiets me with another kiss.
“I want to know everything about you,” he answers and while his words fill me with warmth along with it comes a healthy dose of trepidation knowing that my mother is only the tip of the iceberg. He says that he wants to know everything about me but how would he feel if he really knew where I was tonight? And what is going to happen when he eventually finds out? Whoever said that the truth shall set you free clearly never worked as a waitress at a strip bar.
The morning air is crisp for July as I head outside to wait for Shane. The sky is a crystal clear blue and the sun is making its ascent. I hear the rumble of his truck before it comes flying around the corner and the sound makes me smile in spite of my nerves. He drives like he plays soccer - hard, fast and all out.
As soon as he pulls up to the curb I grab the handle and launch myself into the cab which earns me a sideways look.
“I would’ve helped you in, babe.” Ever the Texan Shane is pretty particular about opening doors.
“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” I tease but my smile is forced. “We don’t have to do this you know,” I add and he gives me a puzzled look.
“Do what? Meet your mom?”
“I’m just saying…it’s a beautiful day out. Maybe go for a hike or check out the farmer’s market?” I try. He shakes his head as he takes a steaming cup of coffee from the cup holder and hands it to me. I slide my fingers around it and take a sip and I almost moan out loud when I taste the warm liquid.
“You got me my favorite,” I say, momentarily distracted.
“Caramel latte for my Caramel,” he grins, using Leigh’s nickname for me. “It suits you since your hair really does look like the caramel on top of a sundae.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“You seriously have no fucking idea how gorgeous you are. Truth is it makes me a little insane trying to keep my temper in check when other men look at you.”
“You have an overactive imagination,” I scoff.
“Babe, it happens all of the goddamn time. I think I deserve an award for how patient I’ve been.”
“Poor baby,” I say, leaning across the cab to pat his shoulder. “But I really think you are being paranoid.”
“I’m not paranoid,” he argues. “You’re the one that’s naïve,” he adds, flashing me his dimples as his warm brown eyes scan my face.
“Watch where you’re going!” I shout at the windshield. He shakes his head but relents and turns his eyes back to the road.
“You are crazy if you don’t see what I see,” he says quietly and I can’t help the rush of pleasure that shoots through my body at his words. “But back to the subject at hand. I want to meet your mom. I want to know who you are and where you came from.”
“Who I am and where I came from are two very different things,” I bite back and when he flinches I instantly regret my tone.
“Sorry,” I mumble. I understand why Shane is insisting on meeting the woman who gave birth to me which is about the sum total of all that she’s done for me in twenty six years. I only wish there was some way out of it.
“Whatever your relationship is like with her she’s a part of you, babe. Like it or not,” he says on a shrug and it irritates me that I know he’s right.
“But it doesn’t have to be right now,” I say. “We could save the meet and greet for another time and do something else instead. How about bowling? Karaoke? Visit the dentist for a root canal?” I tag on and he laughs.
“Come on, Carmelina. It won’t be as painful as you think,” he chuckles and I try to smile but my lips tremble. That’s where he’s wrong - it will be even more painful and I guess the only way to explain it is to let him see for himself.
***
All too soon we are standing outside of my mother’s house on the east side. It’s the same low rent bungalow I grew up in just beyond the same overgrown grass that’s peppered with weeds. The same one that meant from the age of twelve I had to take on a paper route and collect bottles just to help pay the rent and cover the things the food stamps couldn’t. I know Shane thinks it’s only fair to meet my mother now that I’ve met his family but now that I’m standing here with one hand on the chain link fence I have the overwhelming urge to run. I take my hand off the gate latch and turn on my heel.
“Let’s just go,” I say hurriedly but he stops me and pulls me against his chest.
“Babe, I want to meet your mom. Please?”
I can’t resist those big brown eyes of his when he begs so I give a reluctant sigh and nod my head. I open the squeaky gate and he follows me up to the dilapidated porch with the peeling paint. The house has seen better days and the broken blinds and cardboard-covered front window both make my face flush hot with embarrassment. I let myself in and don’t bother knocking. When I first moved out I used to knock but after one too many times of finding her passed out on the bathroom floor I stopped bothering. Shane closes the door behind us and I cringe at the sight of the dirty shag carpet and walls yellowed from years of cigarette smoke.
“Hello?” I shout and when there’s no answer I breathe a sigh of relief that I might get out of this, that is until she comes stumbling around the corner with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth.
“Did you bring me anything?” she slurs, placing a hand on the wall to prop herself up. Every time I look at her I try to imagine what she must have been like before my dad. Once, in a rare lucid moment she told me that she moved to Texas from a small town in Colorado at eighteen to follow a bull rider she was dating and shortly after that she fell head over heels in love with my father. If I look hard enough I can see that she must have been beautiful once with her delicate frame and Nordic features. She still has the same blond hair and vibrant blue eyes but time and a hard living have both left their mark on her. And as much as I resent her I can’t tamp down the ache in my chest I feel for the only blood relative I know.
“I brought you some groceries,” I say, tipping forward the brown paper bag that’s tucked under my arm but she only cackles in response.
“I don’t need groceries. You know what I need.”
I ignore her comment and take the groceries to the kitchen with Shane following at my heels. My mother comes in behind us and stands in the doorway with her arms crossed.
