The Hookup (Page 54)

I started it and waved at him and didn’t worry that I looked like a dork.

I was his dork.

Johnny Gamble’s dork.

His sex kitten.

His woman.

So I could wave like a dork if I wanted to.

I waved again as I drove away, looking into the rearview mirror at him standing and watching me go, Ranger sitting at his side.

And I drove home thinking I was still ecstatic about what was happening with Johnny.

But I was no longer scared.

The Veil Dropped

Izzy

“WELL, ALL RIGHT.”

I looked from my computer to the door to see Deanna waltzing in after saying that.

She closed the door behind her.

I glanced back at the computer and again to Deanna before I said, “Addie and Brooks won’t be here for lunch for another half an hour.”

“Know that, baby girl, but just to say, heard the word,” Deanna replied.

“What word?”

“The word from Sally, bartender at Home, who gave it to Norma, who owns Home, who had her hair done this morning by some chick I don’t know, but at my hair salon, Image, where my stylist Crystal is. And Crystal knows you and me are tight. Crystal also overheard Norma telling her stylist that Sally was totally in the Shandra camp, until you did whatever you did with Johnny, being all kissy and sweet and then making him laugh real hard. Now Sally’s an Izzy convert, and from this story, Norma’s switched sides and Crystal too.”

It felt vaguely good that I was winning the townspeople of Matlock over.

But mostly I didn’t care.

“This doesn’t matter, Deanna,” I reminded her.

“Just came in to give you the thumbs up for a job well done,” Deanna replied.

“It isn’t a job. I was having drinks with my guy.”

“Your guy?”

I grinned at her. “Well, he calls me ‘his woman’ so I’m thinking it’s safe for me to call him my guy.”

Her eyes started sparkling. “Yeah, I’d say that’s safe.”

I had a feeling my eyes were sparkling too.

We sparkled at each other for a while before she said, “You do know, Johnny Gamble hasn’t been Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky since Shandra took off on him.”

I felt my sparkle blink out.

“Sorry?”

“This is what Norma said to Crystal. He’s a regular at Home. Not a barfly but he goes to catch a game. Throw back a beer with a bud. It’s the only bar in town so even me and Charlie are regulars there, though they don’t have martini glasses, so it ain’t really my style. It’s just my only choice unless I wanna mix my own drinks and sometimes, girl, I just am not in the mood.”

“They don’t have a wine list either,” I shared something she probably knew.

“Dire,” she muttered. “Anyway,” she perked up, “Johnny Gamble has not exactly made it a habit to pick up some chick and canoodle with her at Home, but it’s safe to say he definitely hasn’t roared with laughter, those were Norma’s words to Crystal, at all. Ever. For three years.”

I found this alarming.

“He hasn’t . . . laughed?” I asked for confirmation.

“I don’t know. Probably no one knows. No one has spent twenty-four seven with the man. Seen him. When I did, he seemed normal, not moody, but not bright and cheery either. He just seemed kinda . . . detached. Like he was going through the motions.”

I felt my body lock as memories of our first morning together hit me like a shot.

Johnny, standing out on the deck, deep in thought, drinking coffee.

Removed.

Then there was when we were talking about vegetables and I’d been being a goof and he’d burst out laughing.

It was the first time I’d heard him laugh in our then short acquaintance.

I remember thinking it was beautiful.

But rusty.

It didn’t sound rusty anymore.

“Iz?” Deanna called.

I focused on her.

“Maybe I am a miracle worker,” I whispered.

A slow, white smile spread across her beautiful face.

“Baby girl, I knew that a long time ago,” she replied.

And as was her way, with a successful parting shot, she swayed out of my office.

I lay in bed on my side, the covers up over my hip, my eyes on the little daybed in the raised alcove to the side of my bedroom where one of the windows was.

On that daybed were three pairs of men’s pajama pants. They weren’t threadbare but they were downy with use.

I sensed movement behind me and rolled to my back to watch Johnny emerge from the bathroom wearing another pair of pajama bottoms.

We’d found we had a new talent in bed.

We could be quiet and it still was spectacular.

His eyes roamed me in the pale-pink fitted, ribbed, knit camisole with the lace edging at the top, which I pulled on after we were done and he’d gone to the bathroom. His lips hitched before he put a knee to the bed, pulling the covers up and spying the all-lace, white panties I’d put back on after he’d taken them off.

He slid under the covers beside me and then claimed me, doing this by pulling me to him, gliding a hand down my spine, over my bottom and between my legs from the back in a way I had no choice but to glue my front to his front and hike my leg over his hip.

I looked up into his eyes. “I can’t be without panties with my sister and Brooks in the house, unless, of course, I’m having sex.”

The white slashed through his beard and he muttered, “Baby.”

He lightly stroked the gusset of my panties and I squirmed.

I also whispered, “Are we gonna make love again?”

The white stayed in his beard as he answered, “No. Just like feeling the wet you give me.”

“Oh.”

His brows went up. “You can’t take even this without starting to light up for me?”

I tucked my face in his throat.

He cupped me between my legs and said, “Okay, spätzchen.”

I nuzzled his throat.

“Your internal alarm clock wakes you up, you wake me up, Iz.”

I tipped my head back again. “Sorry?”

“I’ll take care of the animals, make you breakfast. You just take care of what you gotta do to get ready for work.”

“You don’t have to do that, Johnny.”

“Right,” he said, shifting his hand out from between my legs, up and then down inside my panties where he gently cupped a cheek of my behind. “We’re here again so I’ll give it to you. I’m that guy as well. You got an hour-long commute. I got a ten-minute commute. It takes you six times the amount of time to get ready for work as it does me. It isn’t that taking care of animals is man’s work, which, babe, just to say, I’m that guy too so for me it is. But for me as the man in the life of the woman you are, it’s about doing shit I do not mind doing so you can have an extra half hour of shuteye or just an easier morning. So when I wake up in this bed, Iz, I take care of the animals and breakfast. You take care of you.”

I stared at him.

“We straight about that?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You good with that?” he went on.

I nodded again.

“Good,” he said. “Tomorrow night, I’m letting you be with your sister. Maybe if you have some concentrated time with her, she’ll open up about whatever’s going on with her.”

I didn’t want concentrated time with my sister.

I did, of course I did.