Authors: Dawn Pendleton
Twelve
Baker
I shook my head in disbelief over my own behavior. I was there to reprimand her, to demand to know why she left and to make her feel guilty. Instead, I tried to jump her at first sight. It was as if not seeing her for three days ruined me. I wanted nothing more than to be with her as much as I could for the rest of our lives. Granted, I knew hers wouldn’t be much longer, but I still wanted every moment, every smile.
“Are you decent?” came a voice from the hallway.
I stifled a laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good,” she said as she came around the corner into the kitchen. “Let’s have a chat, shall we?” She sat at the dining room table and I meekly followed.
“I know we met earlier, but maybe I wasn’t clear before. Rainey is not to be hassled or attacked, even if she wants it. I won’t have my niece put under undue stress,” Brittney addressed me.
She was only a few years older than me, but she scolded me like a child. When I showed up at seven that morning, I had explained who I was and she welcomed me into her home. She let me know that Rainey was still asleep and that I could hang out until she woke up. Then Brittney went into her room and left me alone.
I had wandered the living room, smiling at the number of pictures of Rainey and Brittney
together
. They always looked happy together, which was nice to see. I knew Rainey’s mom was hardly a good role model. Maybe being in LA had been best for her.
When I heard Rainey’s door open, I hid in the living room and waited for her to turn her back. Then I jumped up on the counter and waited for her to notice me. It had been fun. I never suspected it would escalate so quickly, though.
“Do you understand me?” Brittney asked when I didn’t answer her fast enough.
“Yes, ma’am. I apologize for what you walked in on, and I take full responsibility for it,” I told her.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Baker,” Rainey said from the stairs as she walked down. “We’re both adults and we don’t need to apologize for anything.” She glared at her aunt.
I had to bite my tongue in order not to laugh, but then I noticed what Rainey wore. If I thought she was adorable in an oversized tee, she was absolutely stunning in a pair of short jean shorts and a tiny pink tank top. Her long legs were bare, but tan. Long, dangly earrings hung from her ears and she’d even put on some lip gloss. I tried not smile.
“Don’t talk to your aunt that way, Rain,” I admonished her. “She’s just looking out for you.”
“Exactly. Thank you, Christopher.” Brittney smiled at me. I winced at her use of my full name. No one ever called me Chris anymore, let alone
Christopher
. I let it slide, though.
We both turned to Rainey, who had picked up her forgotten coffee cup. “Okay, I’m sorry! Geez, you act like you never did anything when you were young.” Rainey rolled her eyes.
Brittney shook her head. “I did. But now, I have to get to work. Try not to get her pregnant, okay?” She looked at me and I went into a coughing fit to hide my laughter. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. I now knew where Rainey got it from.
She stood, blew Rainey a kiss, and was out the door before I could say goodbye. Once I heard her car pull out of the driveway, I turned to Rainey, who stood against the counter looking sexy and edible.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned when I moved to get up. “You stay away from me until you explain what the hell you’re doing here.”
I sighed. “I came to see you. I wanted to ask you why you left.”
“You ever hear of this new invention called the telephone? Apparently, you can talk to people thousands of miles away without jumping on a plane to see them in person.” She glared at me.
“Oh, right, because you answered every single one of my texts,” I ground out through clenched teeth.
She had the decency to flinch at my words. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Do you want some coffee?”
I nodded. She brought me a cup and sat in the chair her aunt had been sitting in. “I’m sorry, Baker. I know I should have told you, should have said goodbye, but I just couldn’t do it,” she rushed out.
“Why did you leave?”
“I don’t know.” She abandoned her coffee and stood up, waving her hands around while she spoke. “I was afraid if you knew the truth, you’d leave me, so I left first. And then I got the news that I only have a few months left – it’s like a damn death sentence. Leukemia is hardly something I ever wanted to deal with, but the treatments were working! I was better. And then the bruises started again, along with fevers and night sweats… I was scared,” she finished, looking at her hands, standing in the middle of the kitchen.
I had to turn around to follow her movements with my eyes. She paced while she talked and when she finally stopped, I stood.
“It’s okay to be scared,” I said, walking over to her in the middle of the kitchen. “Hell, it’s not even happening to me and I’m scared.”
“Really?” She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes.
“Of course. It’s not every day I fall in love with a woman who’s dying,” I joked half-heartedly, taking her hands in mine.
“You’re really in love with me? I mean, you said so back in your apartment, but I kind of thought it was just the heat of the moment.”
“I said it before? I don’t even remember that. But I will remember this. I love you, Lorraine Daniels.”
She gulped. “You shouldn’t love me, Baker. I’m no good for
you
.”
“What are you talking about? You’re the only woman who can stand my quirky sense of humor.” I smiled at her, trying to hide my disappointment that she didn’t say it back. She wasn’t ready, and I promised myself I would be patient.
“I’m going to
die
.” Her voice broke, and along with it, my heart. “If you love me now, you’ll just be heartbroken later, and you’ll be alone.”
“I’ve been alone before, Rainey. While you were in LA, I spent several years trying to find happiness, using women like playthings to fill a void in my soul. But it was you – you are the only one who can fill that void. When you came back, I knew right away that you were it for me. And knowing that you have a shelf life,” I paused, waiting for her smile, “well, that just means that I’m not going to let you go again. Not if I can help it. If I had the choice of a hundred healthy years to live or twelve short weeks with you, I’d choose you, every single time.”
I leaned forward and kissed her sweetly. Tears escaped her eyes and I wiped them away with the pad of my thumb. She smiled sadly at me again.
“When did you get so sweet?”
“I’ve always been sweet. You just never noticed me. In fact, you pushed me away then, just like you’re doing now. But let’s get one thing straight.” I leaned down to look her in the eye. “I. Am. Not. Going. Anywhere.” I gave her a quick peck and then went back to the table, picking up my coffee and heading into the living room to look at photographs again.
She didn’t move for almost a full minute as my words settled over her. I tried not to grin as I eyed all the photos again. When she finally moved, she came into the living to look at pictures with me.
“This one was taken at the airport, right after I moved here.” She pointed to a frame that sat on a shelf about shoulder height.
I took in the photo, memorizing every detail.
This
was the Rainey I remembered. She was tall, with shorter blonde hair and those same fiery green eyes. The only thing different was her size. In the photo, her hips were fuller, rounder, but still delectable. Even her breasts were plumper, filling the tattered T-shirt she wore more fully. She looked like a kid, and in many ways, she was. I turned to look at her next to me.
She had changed over the years – her slimmer waist, longer hair, even the way she dressed was more refined, older. But she was still there, the Rainey I loved. The girl who laughed at my stupid jokes and shook her head at me when I was being an idiot. Just
Rainey
.
I was lucky to have her in my life, and although I regretted not having her in my life for the last few years, I wanted to make up for lost time in the next few months. I wanted to be by her side when she breathed her last, knowing that we had made the most out of our time together.
“So what do you want to do today?” I asked her.
She glanced at me, her surprise evident in her raised brow.
“How long are you staying?” She asked.
“For however long you are,” I informed her.
“What? You can’t stay here.” She stepped away from me.
“I can pretty much do what I want. Free country, and all that. But I am staying here because I love you and I’m not about to let one moment pass without spending it with you,” I explained.
“But… What about when I die?” She looked down at her hands.
I put my finger under her chin to get her to look at me. “Then a little piece of me will die, too. Until then, I want to enjoy being with you.”
I saw the fear creep into her eyes and knew I scared her, but I needed her to know I wasn’t about to walk away.
And then something else appeared in her bright eyes. Something akin to mischief.
“What are you thinking?”
“Well, on the plane ride here, I made up a bucket list…”
“Hell yes. Whatever’s on it, we’ll do,” I promised.
“I sort of threw it away.” She looked sheepish.
“We’ll write a new one, then. No big deal. What’s the first thing that comes to mind to do?” I asked her, ready for anything she could think of.
“How about Vegas?”
I wasn’t ready for that.
Thirteen
Rainey
Vegas wasn’t actually on my original to-do list. It had been on my mind, though. Living out west as I had for several years, I always wanted to do something reckless and frivolous. But the leukemia had made me more reserved, less likely to do something just for the sake of doing it. I always told myself that
someday
I would get to Vegas, do all the things I wanted to do.
Someday was now. With only a few months to enjoy my life, if I wanted to do something, I needed to do it right away. Once I got to a certain point, I would have to be hospitalized, or at least have a home nurse. Until then, I wanted to get as much out of this life as I could. And that meant letting Baker in and taking a chance.
“Vegas?”
“Yeah. I always wanted to go, but money has always been tight for me, paying for treatments and whatnot. So I want to go, you know, before
I
go,” I grinned.
“Well then, hell yeah! Let’s go.” He pulled me into a hug and lifted me up, swinging me around the living room. I laughed with him, unable to do anything to stop my growing feelings for him. He was perfect for me, exactly what I needed at this point in my life.
“I have to pack,” I told him and he put me down.
“My bags are already in the rental car. I’ll just watch you pack,” he suggested, taking my hand and leading my up the stairs.
He pushed open my bedroom door and flung himself sideways on my bed. He picked up a magazine I left on my nightstand and flipped through it, hardly paying me any attention. I stood there, staring at him like a fool for several minutes.
“What are you doing?” He finally looked up at me. “Get packing!” He cracked an invisible whip at me and made a
whippish
sound
. Then he turned back to the article he was reading. A man who read magazine articles. Insane.
I turned away from him and pulled my duffel out of the closet. I packed jeans, shorts, tanks, and tees. I threw in a few pairs of socks, and then eyed Baker nervously before pulling open the drawer where I kept all my lingerie. Many of the items inside were see-through, lacy pieces that revealed more than they covered, but something told me Baker would appreciate them.
His attention was focused solely on the magazine so I stuffed several teddies into my bag, along with the matching panties. He would definitely appreciate my effort. I pulled out a pair of jeans and laid them on top of the delicates, just in case he decided to look up. I went into the guest bathroom and grabbed my straightener, body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. I set everything on the end of the bed and then picked up my travel makeup bag out of the closet. I placed all my hair stuff into it, running back to the bathroom for bobby pins, my hair brush, and anti-frizz serum. Once I had everything set, I moved on to shoes.
When I left LA for Maine last month, I left most of my designer shoes with Brittney, since there weren’t many places to wear four-inch heels in Maine. Vegas, however, was a different story. I could easily get away with heels there; plus, Baker was way taller than me, so I wouldn’t tower over him. It was win-win. I picked four pairs, figuring that any more wouldn’t be necessary and any less would cause me serious problems when dressing myself while we were there. I carefully placed them in the duffel bag, making sure the heels wouldn’t snag any of the teddies.
Baker turned to me as I zipped up the duffel. “Ready?”
“Almost. I just have to go through a few more things,” I told him.
“Okay, well I’m going to go make the reservation. Come downstairs when you’re ready.” He tossed the magazine back on my night stand and got up. He planted a quick kiss against my lips and then waltzed out of my room without a glance back at me.
I stared after him for a full thirty seconds before I shook myself. I needed to pack at least one sexy dress. Maybe two. I turned to the closet and realized my wardrobe was hardly acceptable. I flipped through each dress, discarding it for one reason or another. I was dissatisfied with every dress I owned. All I wanted was something black, sleek, and clingy. The ones in my closet were flowy and vibrant. I sighed.
Maybe Aunt Brittney would have something along the lines of what I wanted.
Aunt Britt!
I needed to call her and let her know that Baker and I were taking off. I pulled out my cell and dialed her work number.
“This is Brittney,” she answered.
“Hey, Britt. It’s Rainey.”
“I figured you and Baker would be hot and heavy by now,” she laughed.
I shook my head. “No, not exactly. He actually wants to take me to Las Vegas,” I started. “He asked me what I wanted to do, kind of like a bucket list, and I’ve always wanted to do Vegas.”
“That sounds great! Have fun, kiddo! You’ll be back in what – a week?”
“Yeah, I think so. Hey, can I borrow a black cocktail dress for the trip?” I asked hopefully.
“Of course. Go raid my closet! Lord knows I won’t be needing them any time soon.” She emitted another laugh and then turned serious. "Are you safe with him, Rainey? If something happens, will he be able to take care of you?”
I thought about it for a second. “Oh, yeah. He was handling me with kid-gloves before he even knew about the leukemia. I would say it’s going to be a mellow time in Vegas. And I trust him
,” I told her.
“Good for you. Don’t let him go, girl. Not many men would stick around and watch you fade out of their life. But anyway,” she said with a lighter tone. “Have a great weekend and shoot me a text or two while you’re gone so I know you’re okay. Love you!”
“I will. And I love you, too, Britt,”
I told her. I clicked off and tucked my phone back in my pocket, then hefted my duffel over my shoulder and picked up my makeup bag off the bed. I made my way downstairs and noticed through a window that Baker was outside on the small front porch, on his phone. I dropped my bags by the door and went into my aunt’s bedroom.
It was a first-floor master suite, with an amazing master bath. The décor was bright, just like the guest room. I pulled open the door to her walk-in closet and just stood there, staring at the wide array of clothes encased inside. She was one of those women who bought clothes and then never wore them. From the doorway, I could count at least ten articles of clothing with tags on them. And that was just what I could see. I entered the closet and moved to the back, where she kept her dresses.
Britt’s OCD meant that all her clothes were put into sections by the piece of clothing and then further organized by color. She had no less than twenty black dresses, and they were ordered alphabetically by designer. It was sickening and amazing, all at the same time. I went through each dress individually, analyzing them one-by-one, trying to decide which one would drive Baker the craziest.
When I came across one that had a low scoop-neck line to show off plenty of cleavage and a short hem, I knew I’d found the one. The shoulder straps were about two inches wide, which would leave my arms bare. It was perfect. I gingerly pulled the tag out and realized there was still a price tag on it. I almost didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see how much money Britt paid for this scrap of cloth.
My curiosity won out, though. I flipped the price tag over and sucked in a breath.
Three hundred forty-nine dollars
. It was insane to pay that much for a dress, but if I knew Aunt Britt, she would want me to take it anyway. Like she said, she didn’t wear cocktail dresses much anymore. Her VP status at her job meant she didn’t schmooze the clients; she paid people to do that. So I went to the very back of her enormous closet and found a black garment bag to hide the dress in. I gently put the dress inside after removing the tag and carried the bag over my shoulder as I walked into the living room.
Baker stood there waiting for me by the front door and I noticed my duffel and makeup bags were already gone.
“I put your stuff in the car. And we’re all set with a hotel.” He grinned at me, gesturing to take the garment bag.
I gave him a stern look as I handed it over. “No peeking,” I warned.
“Oh, something good, then. Maybe just a little glance?” He playfully moved his hand toward the zipper.
“No!” I slapped his hand away from the zipper and took the bag back. “I’ll just carry it. Are we ready?”
“Yeah. Do you need to leave a note for your aunt or something?”
“I called her. So we are all set,” I confirmed.
Baker led me out of the house and waited patiently while I locked the front door behind us. I turned to look at his car for the first time and had to laugh.
“A sports car, really?” I exaggerated a sigh.
“What? It’s fast. We’ll get to Vegas in no time,” he promised with a glance at his watch. “I say we make it in less than three hours.”
“Three hours? Do you have a fever?” I reached up and put the back of my hand against his forehead. “Even in zero traffic, it’s a four-hour trip.”
“How would you know? You’ve never been,” he taunted.
“Touché.”
“Just get in the car and let me drive. Three hours,” he predicted again. I laughed, turning back to the car.
It was a bright red Challenger, brand new. The leather seats were cozy and surprisingly cool. Baker must have started it while I was inside. He opened up the trunk to put my garment bag in the back.
“I’ll put it in the back seat,” I told him.
He nodded and pushed the trunk lid closed. I tucked the bag behind my seat and let it rest on the hook near the roof of the
car
. I sat on the cool leather and adjusted my shorts before turning back to Baker just as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
It was like watching a clown try to fit himself into a clown car. At six-three, Baker was hardly a little guy. Add to that his bulging muscles, and watching him get in was comical. I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh.
“Something funny?” he asked once he was inside.
His eyes met mine and I felt the heat rise between us. “Not a thing,” I whispered.
He slammed his door closed and then leaned over to me. “I have to tell you something,” he said in a serious tone. Baker was usually so playful and full of jokes, I was actually scared when he stared intently into my eyes.
“Yes?” I answered with baited breath.
“You are so fucking hot,” he said, snagging his hand behind my head and bringing me close to him so he could kiss me.
It was a hot, searing kiss and I knew I was much too close to the flames. By the end of this, I was going to get burned. But I couldn’t find the will to pull away. Instead, I put both my hands on his chest, in an effort to bring him closer or push him away, I don’t know. His tongue sought entrance into my mouth and I opened for him, eating up every hot touch. His hand on my neck rubbed encouragingly and I moaned into his kiss.
He ended it long before I wanted him to, and we were both out of breath. “Hot damn,” he whispered against my lips.
I laughed, this time actually pushing him away. “Let’s get going,” I suggested.
He seemed to be in a hurry as he pulled away. He strapped his seatbelt on while I put mine on and then turned the key. A loud, grinding noise emitted from the car and I had to hold back my laughter as I realized the car was already running.
“Damn thing,” he mumbled and then shifted into gear. He looked at me. “Not one word.”
Then he gunned it and we were off to Vegas.