Authors: Bijou Hunter
Meredith
Sunday
Smiles
I
wake up to find a sexy half-naked man in my bed. Giving my buzzed brain a
chance to reset, I stare at his tattooed and muscular back.
Too
much tequila. Loud music. Zulma singing
Womanizer
on repeat. Too much
beer. Bethany whining how being the designated driver wasn't a good look on
her. A stinky bar where I drank more beer and danced with this sexy man.
Jamie
Winston.
His
skin is still golden. Back in high school, he often worked on cars in his
driveway. I pretended not to notice, but Jamie saw through my lies. He knew I
had a crush on him much like every girl in school. He usually dated rocker
chicks sporting thick black eyeliner and bright red lips. Those girls dismissed
a nerd like me, but Jamie noticed.
We
were together for one week during my wild phase. He was about to move, so I
took the plunge and lost my virginity in a camping tent in the woods near our
houses. Over the years, I wondered about him. Now he is in my bed.
More
than once over the years, I've imagined Jamie during sex with Sandy. I often
assumed I'd romanticized my first boyfriend, making him more delicious than he
truly was.
In
reality, the man in bed with me is a million times better than my memories.
A
ridiculous blushing fit comes over me as I scoot up against the headboard.
Covering my face, I struggle to be the adult woman I know still exists. I'm not
a teenager and Jamie isn't my first boyfriend.
I'm a professional woman,
dammit!
Unfortunately before I regain my composure, he rolls over and
smiles at me. I'm fairly certain my face is tomato red as I smile back.
"Morning,
Meredith Gordon," he says, taking my hand and kissing the palm.
"How's your head?"
I'm
unsure how to do the morning-after sexy chat. Bethany tried teaching me in college,
but I never honed the skill. With Sandy, seduction wasn't necessary.
Unable
to find my inner temptress, I blurt out, "Did we?"
A
smile brightens his sleepy face. "You'd still feel me inside you if we
had. Don't you remember what you felt like in high school?"
I
fight a smile. "I was a virgin."
Jamie
nuzzles my arm. "After what you told me about your schmuck husband, you're
not that far off from a virgin now."
"I
was drunk and likely exaggerating."
"People
get honest when they're drunk, baby," he says, sitting up next to me and
kissing my neck. "I think you're lying now."
Before
I can answer, he kisses me on the mouth. My body instantly awakes from a decade
of boredom. Jamie pulls away slowly then glances at the clock.
"Crap.
I need to get to my mom's for brunch. It's a weekly thing on Sundays."
"Okay.
It was nice seeing you again, Jamie," I say, slipping out of bed.
Following
me, Jamie wraps his arms around my waist. "One, it's not Jamie anymore. I
go by Winston."
"Why?"
"That
brings me to number two. Tonight, I'll pick you up for dinner. We'll catch up
and I'll tell you all sorts of fun shit about me."
"Okay."
Winston
smiles before disappearing into the bathroom. I wait awkwardly for him, unsure
what to do with my hands or how to stand. I've regressed to my lame teenage
self.
The
bathroom door opens and Winston hurries out. "I hate to wake and run, but
Mom will have a fit if I don't get to brunch on time."
I
only nod and follow him to the door. Opening it, he flinches at the bright
Sunday sun then smiles at me.
"I'll
pick you up at five. We'll go somewhere nice. I'm a burger and pizza guy except
on Sundays. Let's do steak. Does that sound good, Meredith?"
Hearing
my name shakes me loose from the silly feeling I'm wallowing in. "I'd like
that."
"Tonight
then."
Winston
kisses me again. No worries about morning breath or public displays of
affection. His kiss is warm and inviting.
New, yet comfortable.
As his
lips leave mine, I shiver at the way he makes me feel.
"Five,"
Winston says, giving my neck a quick kiss.
He
hurries to his truck parked at the curb. The sound of the rumbling engine is
loud in the otherwise quiet morning.
Watching
Winston's truck disappear around the corner, my gaze catches a neighbor spying
on me from her front porch. Even without seeing her eyes, I feel her judgment. Sandy's only been gone for a few months and I'm already shacking up with guys.
Bethany flips people off for minor things like smiling at her. She nearly got her ass
kicked for being so quick to raise her middle finger. Yet I consider sending a
message to my judgmental neighbor. Sandy left
me
. I'm the victim. The
good one who was dumped. I deserve to move on.
I
never flip off people, especially old ladies wearing big hats. Instead, I wave
at her then head back inside.
Restless
now, I decide to shower. Except I feel worse afterwards since I no longer smell
like Winston's heavenly cologne. Too restless to do anything else, I walk into
the third bedroom of the small house. Despite our plans for kids, the room is a
gym while bedroom two is my office.
I
only have two obsessions and they're both pathetic. No one should be obsessed
with a Stairmaster and Skittles.
I'm
still working out when Bethany lets herself into my house. She speaks loudly
while making a pot of coffee. I hear her imitating my drunken voice. I also
hear her call me a secret slut. Through her babble, I keep stepping while
shoving handfuls of Skittles into my mouth.
"Oh,
boy," Bethany says, appearing at the door. "He fucked you into a
Skittle rage."
"We
didn't have sex."
"Ah,
so this is your way of working off the horny. Poor Meredith."
"Shut
up," I mutter. "He's picking me up for dinner."
Bethany sits on an exercise ball and drinks her coffee. "Winston sure aged well. I
saw Tyler Parker the other day. He's lost all his hair and looks about seven
months pregnant. Winston actually looks better than in high school. Rougher,
sexier."
I
narrow my eyes at my slutty sister. "Back off."
"I
don't want your sloppy seconds."
"Liar,"
I say, grinning. "You always liked Winston. I saw you flirting with him in
the hallways, but he blew you off and hooked up with me. Still hurts, doesn't
it?"
Bethany raises her middle finger, sending me into hysterics. I stop the Stairmaster and
sit on the ground where I laugh and laugh until she walks out in mock outrage.
I find her sitting at the kitchen table, middle finger still upright.
"Sorry,
but normally men drool over you. Jamie Winston was the one time a guy wanted me
more. Let me have this win."
Bethany lowers her finger. "So very true."
I
join her at the table with my cup of coffee. "He was sweet this morning.
I'd forgotten how gentle he could be. I only remembered the naughtier
parts."
"Naughty?
I'll let that go since you've been married to a walking coma patient for so
long. So if you didn't fuck, did you at least squeeze his tight ass?"'
"I
can't really remember. Sorry."
"No
worries, big sis. You'll tell me all the
naughty
details tomorrow. I
can't wait to hear them either. Not after ten years of listening to you talk
about Sandy Snooze."
"Stop
mentioning Sandy. I'm trying to fantasize here."
Bethany nods. "My apologies. What will you wear tonight? Something sexy hopefully. He
saw you half-naked last night and couldn't get enough. Don't dress like his
grandma or he'll lose interest."
"I
don't dress like anyone's grandma. I simply choose not to dress like a hooker
like you, so I appear matronly in comparison."
Bethany taps my cup with hers. "True again. I like how smart you are today. Winston
is clearly a good influence. Don't blow it."
"I
have no expectations. Until last night, I figured he was married with a few
kids. Now we're going to dinner. Whatever happens will happen."
"Don't
pretend to be spontaneous. You can't sell the lie."
"I'm
trying something new."
"I
will pray hard for you not to fail."
"Stop
being a pest and help me pick something nice to wear tonight. I want to look
attractive, but classier than last night. I don't want Winston thinking I'm
you."
"After
seeing all of your accent pillows, there's no way he'll think you're me."
I
set down my cup and stand. "Stop insulting me and drive me to the mall to
find something to wear."
"Shopping?"
Bethany cries, her smirk gone. "Finally, something we can agree
on."
With
my sister's help, I search for a new dress for this fresh start in my life.
Jamie Winston is exactly the type of man who can shake me out of the tedium of
ten years with the most boring man alive.
Winston
Chemistry
Even
after I arrive at Mom's house for Sunday brunch, Meredith is all I can think
about. My nieces and nephews are loud as usual. Screaming at each other and
occasionally just screaming to be heard over the other screams, they're a wild
bunch. I hear none of it. My mind is on Meredith watching me from her front
porch.
Mom
stands in the kitchen, surrounded by her daughter-in-laws. They're drinking
orange juices spiked with vodka. I hear them laughing over the kids' screaming.
Based on the sly look on her face, Mom is sharing something dirty. Call her
grandma day and night, but never call her domesticated.
My
brothers Kemp and Boyle sit next to me, watching the Cowboys play. We aren't
big into football. We're more baseball guys really, but on Sundays, we sit here
while the kids scream and the women laugh. It's our routine and we fall into it
easily.
"Saw
Meredith Gordon last night," I say, during a commercial break.
Boyle
shoves nachos into his mouth then asks, "How'd she look? I saw Misty
Robbies at Vitelli's Bakery the other day and..."
"What
were you doing at Vitelli's?" Kemp interrupts.
"It's
Heather. With this baby, she craves onion bagels constantly and Vitelli's has
the best."
My
sister-in-law is a lapsed Catholic, but she insists her former faith has
nothing to do with why she pops kids out every two years. The current bun in
the oven is number six.
"So
what about Misty?" I ask when my brother focuses too long on his nachos.
"Oh,
she'd gone on some health food kick. Lost a bunch of weight and looked scary
skinny. Her head was huge on her tiny neck. Freaky shit women are into these
days."
"Meredith
looks great. Sexy as hell and she's a shrink now. Can you believe that?
Listening to people whine all day. I don't know how she does it, but I bet she
does it fucking great."
Kemp
laughs. "You're in heat, bro. Can smell you from here."
When
I frown at Boyle laughing next to me, he says, "Meredith was a nice girl.
She helped me with math once. Her sister was nice too.
Very generous
."
I
roll my eyes. "Shut up. You're ruining my good mood."
"Sorry,
bitch. So is Meredith single?"
"We're
going to dinner tonight. She got divorced not long ago. Timing is
perfect."
"You'll
be the rebound."
"If
I want. If I want to be the guy then I'll be the guy. I have a perfect
out."
"How
do you figure?"
"If
I want Meredith for the long haul, I'll make it happen. Don't doubt chemistry."
"Sure."
"What
if she thinks you're just a rebound guy?" Kemp asks. "I always
assumed those Gordon girls would grow up to be suburban bitches."
"Watch
the language!" Mira yells over the kids' screaming.
Kemp
waves back at his wife without looking at her. I think about his question then
shrug.
"Meredith
does something to me. I have that kind of power over her too. When chemistry
kicks in, well, I don't think anyone will have any say in the matter."
"Wonder
what the shrink will think about that?" Boyle mutters before shushing us
when the game returns.
No
matter what my brothers think, Meredith and I are wired to work. Her boring
husband left her bored.
Big shock.
My wild women left me broke and
sporting a head wound. I need a change. Meredith does too. Now we have our shot
and I never lose when the prize is so perfect.
Meredith
Orange
Makes Me Bold
My
favorite color is orange, yet I fear its vibrancy. I'm not a bold person and
only have a few orange accent pillows on a loveseat in the unused living room.
As a big believer in the beauty of beige, Sandy insisted we keep things a nice
neutral. The orange pillows were my only act of defiance.
Now
I stand in an orange sundress and pumps, looking as bold as a raging August
sun.
"Winston's
going to eat you alive," Bethany says, taking a picture on her phone.
"Zulma will want to see you decked out."
I
twirl for the picture before checking my hair again.
"You
look great, Meredith. Just don't act like a shrink. Be the way you are with me
and Zulma."
"Arrogant
and distant?"
"Well
that, but also sweet and irresistible."
"I'm
really nervous and I'm not sure why. He saw me hung over this morning. I looked
like crap and my breath was deadly. I look like a supermodel compared to how
hideous I was this morning."
"So
very true. I mean, you were pretty hideous when I showed up this morning and
you'd taken a shower and brushed your teeth by then. I can't even imagine the
horror he woke up to."
"You're
not helping."
Bethany grins. "Winston is a real man, not some prissy bitch like you. He doesn't
care about messy hair or stinky breath. He's thinking about pussy."
"I
feel better now."
"I
thought that would help," Bethany laughs, patting my shoulder. "You
look sexy and you're an ace at lying. So, so good at lying. It's scary how well
you lie. Anyhoo, he'll be all over you by dessert then you'll come back here
and come and come again. Most importantly, I will pick you up in the morning
and drive you to work, so you can tell me all the dirty details. You'll tell me
again at lunch with Zulma. We'll expect a play by play. Possibly
drawings."
I
laugh. "That'll be my favorite part. I have a special talent for drawing
cock."
Grabbing
her bag, Bethany shivers. "I love when you talk like a tramp."
"Thanks
for shopping with me. I hope the Dentist likes the edible panties you
bought."
Bethany pauses at the door. "I'll know he loves me when the Dentist eats something
sticky and sugary at my command. Oh, and doesn't brush and floss immediately
afterward."
"And
I'll know you love him when you stop referring to him as the Dentist."
"Be
bad, sis."
Smiling,
I watch Bethany stroll to her Dodge Durango. She screeches out of the driveway
just to upset my neighbors. I close the door then open it again because the
empty house bothers me.
My
mind is on adopting a pet when Winston's silver Ford truck pulls into the spot Bethany vacated. Running my fingers through my hair, I'm nervous to the point of needing
to use the bathroom.
When did I get a nervous bladder?
Winston
looks too good to be real and I'm struck with a strong urge to shut the door on
him. I can't be with this man. Not after a decade with Sandy Moon. I've lost
whatever cool I possessed in high school. I should date the mumbling guy from
the coffee shop. Winston is too damn intoxicating in his jeans and black
buttoned shirt. I'm not sure I can handle such a sexy beast.
"Meredith,"
is all he says before wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer for
a kiss.
No
need to play games or put on fronts, Winston kisses me and I melt. Leaning into
him, I ache to feel this way forever. Safe, yet electric. Hungry, yet
satisfied. Winston is addictive.
"I
thought about you all damn day," he says, still holding me. "You
ready to head out?"
I
nod, unable to speak. All I do many days is talk until my voice drives me nuts.
Other times, I want to say a million things, but keep my mouth shut so my
patients can talk. Tonight, I can't think of a single thing to say. I'm simply
amazed to be in Winston's arms after so many years.
Once
in his truck, I regain the ability to speak. "Last night is a blur,"
I say as he pulls the truck out of the driveway. "I don't remember much. I
think we danced and I might have thought you were a stripper."
"Yes,
Woody."
We
share a grin. "I just don't remember anything important, so forgive me if
I ask questions you've already answered."
Winston
smirks. "You're nervous. It's adorable."
I
can't stop myself from rolling my eyes. Crossing my arms, I ignore his grin.
This plan lasts until his hand reaches over and strokes my knee.
"Sorry
you married a douche, Meredith. I can see how dating a real man would be
scary."
"It
really is," I say, patting his hand.
"I'm
not looking to party. Last night you were drunk and very willing. I didn't do
anything besides drive you home. I might not look like a good guy, but I am.
You can relax."
I
struggle not to laugh in a stupid schoolgirl way. For the rest of the drive, my
hand remains on his, which still rests on my knee.
The
restaurant is packed, so we wait outside for his name to be called. I try to
play coy, swinging my dress a bit. Winston will have none of it. He's hungry
and I'm dinner.
"You
smell so good," he says, nuzzling his lips against my throat. "Like a
damn fruit basket."
Even
as I laugh, my body goes soft. All except my nipples. Hard little nubs now,
they strain against my dress.
"You
smell good too," I mumble, unable to think when my body is in control.
"I wish we were alone."
Winston
kisses me and I don't think of the people around us. Not tonight with Winston
who only sees me. Whenever I feel guilty for such a public display, I remind
myself how quickly things end in life. Winston was sweet to me for a single
week then gone from my life. I thought I'd never see him again. Now he's all I
can taste.
We
sit across each other in a booth that finally opens up. I try to pay attention
to the menu, but I'm more interested in studying Winston's rugged face.
"What
would you tell a patient in your position?" he asks, startling me.
"What
position do you mean?"
"Say
she feels what you're feeling, but she's fighting those feelings. What would
you tell her to do about that situation?"
"I'd
ask her what she hoped would come out of those feelings? Was she being
realistic with her desired outcomes? Could she be satisfied with a less optimal
outcome?"
"I
get hard when you talk like that," he murmurs. "I figured you should
be aware of your powers. You know, in case you want to turn me on later."
Blushing
red hot, I hide behind my menu. The cocky bastard just laughs.
I
know Winston is my rebound guy. Even if nothing else happens between us, he'll
make me smile for however long we're together.
Standing,
I join Winston on his side of the booth. He moves over and wraps an arm around
my shoulders. Something about his expression makes me think he always knew I
would end up next to him.
"Better,"
is all he says before we look over the menu.
"I
haven't eaten ribs in a long time because they're messy."
"Baby,
you get as messy as you want. I'll lick the sauce right off your lips."
When
he kisses me again, I slide a finger in between the buttons of his shirt and
caress his warm skin.
Our
lips part when the waitress arrives. She smiles awkwardly, takes our drink
orders, and hurries away.
Fanning
my face, I sigh. "I don't normally behave this way."
"I
don't care," he whispers, nuzzling my temple. "I only care what you
do right now with me."
"Is
that how you live your life? Simply living for the moment without any concerns
for the consequences?"
Winston
thinks I'm judging him. Once his icy blue eyes study my face and find me
completely accepting, he smiles.
"I
always figured life was going to give me what I was meant to have. Never thought
much harder about it. Of course, I've been a lucky man in a lot of ways. My
brother Kemp started a construction company, so I work for him without having
some bossman bitching at me. My other brother Boyle bought a house with an
apartment over the garage. He figured a renter would bring in extra cash and he
needs it since the guy has a million kids. So I live there without having a landlord
hassling me. Things fall into my lap most days. Look at you."
The
waitress arrives with our drinks and leaves with our food order. As soon as
she's gone, Winston's lips return to mine.
"Where
were we?" he asks, nuzzling my cheek.
"I
thought your brothers' names were Tracy and Casey."
Winston
grinned. "Yeah, but those names didn't age well. When we moved, I found
myself in a class with a girl Jamie. Not just one Jamie either. Every class was
a different girl named Jamie. My brothers had the same problem, so we started
going by our last names. Fortunately, we have different dads."
"I
hadn't realized Jerry wasn't your dad."
"No,
he's Kemp's dad. My dad died in a car accident. Boyle's dad too. Sounds shady
to have them die in the same way, but Mom had a thing for men with a lead
foot."
Winston
leans forward and nips at my earlobe. "Don't feel sad for me. Just be glad
I had a decent last name to fall back on."
"How
old were you when your dad passed?"
"Five,
but please don't worry about it. I had a great childhood. Dad died doing what
he loved. Breaking speed limits."
I
smile before a shiver comes over me from his lips sucking at my throat.
"Stop. I can't function when you do that."
"I
don't want you to function."
"Do
you want me to eat?"
Winston
lifts his gaze to mine. "Good point. If I had my way, we'd be alone right
now."
"Yes,
but you wanted to go to dinner."
"What
the hell was I thinking?"
We
share a smile and sip from our drinks. I enjoy the sweet rum in my Armadillo
Punch while Winston sticks with a beer.
"Have
you ever been married?" I ask.
"Not
even close. I did have a relationship that lasted a year though," he says,
wrapping an arm around my shoulders again. "We broke up every month or so,
but never for long. Still counts as a year in my mind."
"Why
aren't you together now?"
"She
cheated. Or maybe she stole my TV. I always get her and this other girl mixed
up."
I
frown at Winston, causing him to laugh. "Look, I've always dated one kind
of woman. Do with that what you will, but I had a type and that type all played
the same bullshit. Stealing, cheating, and even eating the last donut. Real
evil shit."
Grinning
despite my better judgment, I try not to put on my psychiatrist hat. It's
difficult though.
"Did
you love any of them?"
"No.
If I'd loved them, I'd have married them and had bratty kids with them then
we'd be talking about how I have a few bratty kids with a few evil
ex-wives."
Resting
my hand on his thigh, I ask, "Why would you be attracted to women who
treat you poorly?"
"Why
did you marry a douche?"
"I
wanted someone safe."
"I
wanted someone wild. We both got what we wanted. Your husband bored the shit
out of you. My women stole my crap and banged random guys. Turns out what we
wanted didn't work out so well."
"Do
you still want a wild woman?"
"Meredith,
I want you. That's what the tight pants are about."
Giggling
like an idiot, I'm a slave to his hunger. Nothing else matters, not even my
common sense.
"As
ridiculous as this sounds, I missed you," I whisper. "During the week
we dated in high school, I felt invincible."
"That's
how I've felt since you walked into the bar last night."
His
lips are on mine again. We stop to drink then kiss again, mingling the flavors
of the liquor.
"Is
that rum?" he asks, caressing a lock of my blonde hair through his rough
fingers.
I
nod. "I don't usually drink alcohol much. Since Sandy left, I'm trying to
loosen up."
"Sandy," he snorts. "That's even worse than Tracy."
"Is
it?"
Winston
grins. "When I have kids, I'm giving the boys real butch names and the
girls princess names. Nonnegotiable."
"Really?"
I ask, lifting an eyebrow.
Nearly
laughing, Winston says, "Non-fucking-negotiable. My first son will be G.I.
Joe. Second one will be Captain America. I don't know about the third. Tonka
Truck maybe?"
I
giggle since he's completely serious. "How many kids are you planning on
having?"
"As
many as my woman will give me. I've got lots of practice with my nieces and
nephews. I'm ready for the real deal."
Winston
pauses when the food arrives. Once we get situated, he glances at me.
"Do
you want kids?"
"Yes."
Something
about my tone draws his gaze. "Sore topic?"
"Sandy
and I had plans. Like a schedule, I guess. We planned to finish school and save
money to buy a house. After we found a house, we'd prepare for a child."
"Very
organized," he says and I hear his disapproval. I frown at Winston who
shrugs. "I don't like thinking of you making babies with some douche.
Sorry. Go ahead with your story."
"Possessive
already?"
"Why
not? Wouldn't you be upset if some old girlfriend of mine showed up?"
"No,
not particularly. In this scenario, would she throw herself at you? I admit I
might be jealous, if she rubbed her breasts on your face."
"Would
you fight for me?" he teases.
"I
can't fight."
"It's
not hard. Just do the windmill move my cousin does. Girls go down pretty easy
with that move."