Pretty In Pink (8 page)

Kimber bit her lip and then Sarah
shook her like an angry bear with a honey jar that wouldn’t open. “Okay, okay!
Stop manhandling me.”

“Honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet,”
she growled. “If you screw this up I’m going to kick. Your. Ass.” Sarah pushed
her out her own front door and shut it firmly.

“Well, hell,” Kimber said and hugged
herself against the blowing wind and snow.

Chapter 6

Clarice was yelling. Why was she
yelling? Charlie turned and then remembered. He reached out but the other side
of the bed was empty. His body warmed with the flashes of memory but his
stomach turned over a bit when he saw the small piece of white paper on the
side table.

Thanks so much, Charlie. Thanks for
everything. Sorry if I imposed or confused things for you more. But I am truly
grateful. You rock!

XOXO

Kimber

He rocked? Jesus Christ. He rocked. He
made love with her twice, shared some mind blowing orgasms, fell asleep curled
around her actually letting himself think that wow, maybe getting close to a
woman again might be worth it, and…he rocked?

Charlie blew out a deep breath from
his frustration and ran a hand through his hair just as his bedroom door flew
open and Clarice stuck her head in. “Uncle Charlie! Someone is at the door.”

“Hi, Clarice.” He shoved the paper
under the covers so she wouldn’t see.

Janette’s head appeared a moment later
and she rolled her eyes. “I told her it was rude not to knock. She knows
better.” Janette looked down at her daughter and frowned.

“Sorry,” Clarice said.

“Don’t tell me.”

“I am sorry, Uncle Charlie,” Clarice
said, looking respectfully penitent.

“It’s okay. Just remember next time,
okay?”

Clarice nodded, her pretty face sober.
“Will do.”

That made him laugh.

“Go wait downstairs, okay. Let Uncle
Charlie do his ablutions,” Janette said.

“What the heck are ablutions?”

“I’ll explain later.”

Clarice scampered off and Janette
leaned in, grinning now that small prying eyes and ears were gone. “Ablution
quickly. Kimber’s downstairs.”

“What? Jesus. Shit,” he muttered it
more to himself than to her, but kicked off the covers, subtly pushing the note
under a pillow as he moved. “I'll be down in a few.”

He pulled on jeans and a tee. His
reflection in the mirror was accurate. A mid-thirties man with bed head and a
sex hangover. His eyes showed lingering want for her. His stubble showed a few
flecks of gray. His mouth was slightly red from lots of kissing. “And you are
going to hold yourself together, man, because she tore out of here like the
building was on fire. No reason to offer her your throat to cut.”

Charlie brushed his teeth and ran a
wet hand through his hair not letting his mind linger on the visions that kept
popping up of her naked. Her bare breasts illuminated by the green sci-fi glow
of his alarm clock. Her soft hair brushing his chest. Her tight pussy gripping
him in a humid, blissful clench. “Yeah. Right.”

When his barefoot hit the bottom step
his heart jumped sideways in his chest. “Hey, there,” he said, using his cop
voice. “I’m glad to see you.”

Poor thing. She hadn’t been counting
on Janette and Clarice, he saw. It was obvious from her face. Her big blue eyes
darted from his sister to his niece and back again and then she looked like she
might climb out of her skin when Clarice tugged her shirt and said, “I like
your hair. It’s frizzy!”

Charlie almost laughed but held it
down.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Kimber damn near
whispered. She fingered the hem of her red sweater and shifted from foot to
foot, her tall brown riding boots clacking on his hardwood floor. When he saw
her in those jeans and boots, having just had her, his brain supplied him with
a vivid mental movie of pulling those jeans down and bending her over the back
of the sofa. Taking her from behind, one hand clasping the back of a soft
leather boot, the other stroking her clit until she came around him, milking his
cock with her tender flesh.

“Clarice would you—”

“Go in and pour yourself some juice.
And mommy, too?” Janette interrupted.

Clarice nodded. “I get it. Little
pitchers and big ears, right?”

Janette laughed out loud at her
daughter, caught off guard. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.” They disappeared
into the kitchen, Charlie fighting a grin though being hurt.

“I didn't mean to barge in, I…” Her
voice trailed off and he could tell she was mortified to talk where someone
could hear. “I just wanted to see if you had a number for the roof guy.”

“I can call him,” he said, trying to
keep this voice even.

“You don’t have to do that, that’s
very nice, but I can do it.” She put her head down, and Charlie could see her
steadying herself. “Thank you, Charlie. Maybe we can talk when…”

Just then Clarice came barreling in
and Janette was fast on her heels, clearly trying to head the precocious child
off before she reached her destination. Too late.

“Guess what!” she chirped at Kimber.

Kimber couldn’t resist and that warmed
Charlie’s heart. He smiled when she grinned, despite her internal turmoil.
“What?” She leaned down to be more face to face with his niece.

“I am off today and Uncle Charlie is
off today and mommy is off today so…”

Kimber was nodding, listening, her
eyes darting around wildly, but to her credit she was listening. “So?”

“We’re getting Uncle Charlie’s
Christmas tree today!” Clarice jumped up and down clapping as little girls are
prone to doing and Charlie grabbed his phone book from the small desk by the
door.

“That is great! I hope you have lots
of fun,” Kimber said, smiling at Clarice and then Janette. She even smiled
ruefully at Charlie himself.

“We will! The tree farm has hot cocoa,
fresh warm donuts, and hot cider. Even though I think hot cider would be the
grossest gross thing ever.” Clarice shook her head, her blonde curls swaying.

Now Kimber laughed for real.
“Actually, it’s really good. I think you should take at least a sip.”

Clarice cocked her head, chewed her
bottom lip, regarded first Kimber and then her Uncle. “Hmm. I'll think about
it. Deal?” She stuck out a hand and Kimber shook it with great seriousness.

“Deal.” Kimber smiled.

“You know you should come with us.”

“Oh, I—”

“Clarice—” Charlie started. Actually
he wouldn't mind, but the wild look of worry that overtook Kimber told him the
answer she’d give in advance.

Janette stepped in and took Clarice’s
hand. “Clarice, haven’t we talked about this kind of thing? You are not allowed
to randomly take over events and run them. Right?”

“Yes,” Clarice sighed, clearly not
understanding why the hell not.

“Now say goodbye to Kimber.”

“Good-bye, Kimber,” Clarice said,
heaving another sigh.

Kimber smiled, covering her mouth for
a moment. Her eyes flashed to Charlie and his mind told him it would be
perfectly reasonable to put his hands in her hair and kiss her. “Good-bye,
Clarice. Have fun today.”

“Oh. Don’t worry. We will!” And then
Janette hauled the still chattering five year old out of the room.

“Oh my god, she is funny,” Kimber
said, looking up. Charlie could see how antsy she was to bolt from him. To just
run away. So he decided to be the guy in the white hat and let her go.

“Here’s that guy’s card. It's really
not a problem for me to call for you if you’d like.”

“No, that’s okay! Really. I don’t want
to um…put you out any more. I feel like I’ve made a big enough mess in your
quiet, little life.”

“My life is anything but quiet,
Kimber,” Charlie said softly.

“I mean…”

“There is gingerbread too!” Clarice
yelled from somewhere in the kitchen and they froze. “Are you
sure
you
don’t want to come with us?” she kept yelling. Charlie hoped against hope that
she would say yes, but he knew she wouldn't.

Kimber started shaking with laughter
and soon Charlie had joined her. “I'll see you soon, okay?” she said. She touched
his arm briefly and the sensation of her touch scorched a path from his arm to
his cock in seconds. Charlie gritted his teeth.

“Okay,” was all he could say.

Then she turned tail and bolted, long,
brown hair flying out behind her while he remembered wrapping his hands in it
and tugging just hard enough to make her moan. He needed a cold shower. Badly.

* * * *

Janette was pouring him coffee when he
came down, hair wet, starving, and ready for caffeine. “So she was here last
night. That’s what all the weirdness was about?”

“What?” The best defense, he figured,
was to play dumb. “Um, I don’t think so.”

“Really?” She handed him a mug that
said PRINCESS. It was technically Clarice’s but she was nice enough to let him
use it ‘whenever he wanted.’ “When did your hair get so long?”

“What?” Now he was just confused. He
stuck two pieces of potato bread in the toaster and took a few scorching sips
of his coffee. “Mmm, perfect.” Maybe if he changed the subject…

“Do not change the subject,” she
snorted. “I saw her roof had collapsed and I thought, Hmm. Charlie is nothing
if not chivalrous. Then I saw how your bed was messed. Like maybe there’d been
two people in it instead of one.”

“You are paranoid,” he said, but
turned his face to the window to watch yet more snow drift lazily from the
militaristic gray sky.

“And then…I found
this
!” His
sister—even worse that she was his twin and figured his business was hers—brandished
a black elastic ponytail holder at him and shook it as if proved every theory
she held.

“A hair band!” He allowed himself a
deep breath and a laugh. “Oh, no! Not a hair band. It’s not as if either of the
two ladies, one big, one little who are always infiltrating my domicile
use…gasp…hair bands!”

“Not black. I wear the ones with the
gold crimp on them. And Clarice…”

She had just walked in and grabbed a
juice box from the stash in Charlie’s fridge. “What about me and when are we
leaving? I really need to get a Christmas tree. Pronto!”

Janette laughed. “You don’t like black
hair bands, is what I was saying.”

Charlie rushed forward, “I’m sure it’s
yours Clarice. It’s really no big deal.” But as he talked his niece shook her
head morosely.

“Not mine. I do not like black hair
bands.”

“I’m sure you own one,” he said and
buttered the toast when it popped. Clarice held out her hand and he handed her
a hot buttered triangle like a well trained uncle.

“Nope not me. No way.” Her face was
set in a stubborn mask. When Charlie looked at Janette, she sported the same
look.

“Why not? Not one? One black elastic?”

“Nope. I do not like them. They make
me feel bad.”

“What?” He wanted to smack his own
forehead but tried to stay calm. He could feel his twin studying him like some
newly discovered fungus.

“Black is sad. I don’t do sad,” Clarice
explained and took another piece of his toast.

“See. I knew it wasn’t hers. And it’s
not mine…” Janette gave him the face that meant she’d say more but big ears
were in the room.

Not knowing where her mother had
discovered the hair band, or her inference from finding it, Clarice looked up at
Charlie and said, “It’s probably Kimber’s. I think she loves you.”

Charlie choked on his coffee.

“Clarice! That is a bit much.” But
Janette laughed softly.

“You're right. Okay. I think she has
the hots for you.”

This time when he choked on his coffee,
he just kept choking.

* * * *

 It hadn’t taken long. Charlie has
been shocked and his sister had just shaken her head. “It was a toss-up. Could
have gone either way. She’d want the first tree she saw or she’d make us look
at them all and
then
want the first tree she saw. We lucked out.”

And they really had, Charlie realized
because the wind-chill was in the teens and the snow was blowing and looked to
be falling sideways. Charlie tossed the bailed tree in the bed of his pickup
and buckled Clarice into the backseat of the extended cab. “Ready, Freddy?” he
asked, kicking the snow off his boots and climbing in.

“Ready. And don’t call me Freddy!”

“Surely you jest,” Janette said and
grinned. It was a three way routine that dated back to when Clarice first learned
to talk.

“Nope. And don’t call me Shirley.”

Charlie swung through a drive through
and grabbed burgers, fries and some sodas. When Janette frowned at him he
balked. “Hey, it’s only every once in a while. It’s usually ham sandwiches,
apple slices, and milk. We have a Christmas tree. Let’s party.”