Read Winter In August Online

Authors: Mia Villano

Winter In August (6 page)

“As good as your invitation sounds, I’m going to pass tonight. I sort of made a promise to myself I would behave.”

“You did, did you? I see behaving is hard to do?” he smiled as he kept me held tight.

“It is. After the other night, and the situation I found myself in with Marco, I told myself I wouldn’t end up in a strange bed again, at least not for a while. Plus, I have to be at work early tomorrow.”

“I understand. Where do you work?”

“I’m a stylist at Gino’s on W37
th
.” He kept me pressed against him. I don’t know why I told him my address. Subconsciously, I wanted him to stop by possibly. I don’t know. My fucking head was a jumbled mess. I felt intoxicated and I only had two drinks. His erection pressed against me wasn’t helping either.

“Gino’s. I used to go to that place. My girlfriend was in there every month. She was one of their best customers.” He stared and didn’t speak for a while.

“Girlfriend?” Here we go. They’re always either, married, in a relationship, or gay.

“She passed away a couple of years ago. Claire was my long term relationship. You might have seen her, Claire Sills?” His voice sounded somber and his arms loosened slightly.

“I’m sorry, Colt. I don’t recall the name. I didn’t mean to bring up something upsetting.”

“Please, don’t. You owed me one anyway after my armed forces comment. It’s a small world isn’t it?” We stood outside and the sidewalk was busy with people. He let go and stood back to gaze at me. Something about the way he looked set my body on fire. I looked away and noticed all the couples huddled together walking arm and arm, some of them were looking at us. I forgot we were standing outside on the busy New York sidewalk.

I moved away from him in order to step back into reality.

“Can I at least give you a ride home?” he asked in a hoarse voice. I was trying so hard to resist.

“Thank you, but I’m fine.” I knew if I rode in a car with this guy, my challenge to myself would be over. My promise I made would be broken for sure, and I would be all over him or headed back to my house with him.

“Your lips drive me crazy, and I had to taste you. I love the color. Next time I see you, you won’t refuse.” My new wine colored lip stain had him riled up, but what arrogance. I was at a loss for words and thankfully a cab pulled up before I changed my mind. I shrugged off Colt’s jacket and handed it to him

“Yes, I will be able to refuse you. Believe me, it’s not hard. I’m sure I’ll see you around. You and Marco seem to be everywhere Colt Andrews if that’s your real name?”

The stroke of his heated gaze on me made me shiver inside. He opened the door of the cab and hesitated for a moment.

“Yes, that’s my name. You’ll have to wait, and see what I have in store for you. Anticipation is the best aphrodisiac Melinda I mean, Gabby.” He shut the door before I could respond.

I watched him on the curb standing with his hands in his pockets holding his jacket looking at the cab. Or was he looking at me?

I blew out a sigh of relief. I barely made it out of that situation intact. I was seconds from caving and ending up in a strange bed. There was something about this guy. He seemed different as if he didn’t try hard enough, but he knew we would happen. In a way, I liked how he grabbed me, the way he talked to me, and this aura of boldness he exuded. In the back of my mind, I hoped I would see him again.

Chapter 6

I
couldn’t wait to get home and was thrilled I accomplished something I had not been able to do in a long time. My feet were killing me. I kicked off my shoes, and practically danced into the kitchen to get something to eat. I had to reward myself for a job well done. A giant bowl of ice cream was the perfect replacement for not sleeping with a gorgeous man. Well, come on. Who was I fooling? Ice cream was a far second runner up to a great explosive orgasm I was now pretty sure this Colt could deliver. I filled a bowl with chocolate cake batter sprinkled with nuts and went to my room to catch up on shows I hadn’t watched for a while.

Even though the weather was cool outside, I opened a window to get the nice cool feeling when I went to bed. Unlike Harper who liked to sleep in a sauna, I loved a cold room and warm covers. I snuggled into my warm blankets and propped up on pillows to watch television. After two hours of back to back episodes of my two favorite shows, and another bowl of ice cream, my cell phone rang.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

“I wanted to see what my Mooch was doing tonight. How are you doing?” Mooch was my nickname since I was a toddler. My dad said “give me a smooch” and I couldn’t say smooch I said, mooch. The nickname stuck with me and only my dad called me Mooch.

“I’m great. Don’t worry so much, Dad. I’m stronger than you think. All the therapy has paid off. Why are you up so late?” His breathing sounded labored as if he got done doing something strenuous.

“I couldn’t sleep. I worry about you in the huge city alone.”

Our relationship had been rocky at best over the years. Once my mom left us, he decided to check out of being a dad and drank himself to oblivion. I not only lost my mom, but I lost him as well. My life was double hell growing up. He started to drink the day my mom left and didn’t stop until his accident.

I tried to change the subject. “How are you doing? You seem to be a little out of breath.”

“I’m okay. A little tired. I ran upstairs from doing laundry. I want you to come out for a weekend. You haven’t been out here since Kris died.”

I hesitated, realizing five years had passed since I’d been home. “I think I’m ready soon. The anniversary of his death is this coming weekend. It might be a good time to take a drive to Ohio. I miss you, Dad.”

“I miss you too. I cleaned your old room last week. It looks the same as when you left.” He melted my heart by saying that.

“It feels like too many years since I’ve been home.” The old room was my place to escape after my mom left. I was terrified of what was going on outside my bedroom most nights when I knew my dad had been drinking. He never once hit me, but he would sometimes go into a rage, and I knew to steer clear. In a strange way, I missed my old bedroom and the comfort it gave me.

“Well, don’t stay away anymore. We’re all we’ve got, you know?”

“I won’t. I’m off next week, and I think I can take a few days to come and see you. I’ll call tomorrow night, Dad.”

I hung up with him getting an unsettled feeling about our conversation. My dad was right; it had been the two of us for most of my life. All of which were difficult and at times scary. When my mom left, life as I had come accustomed to, would not be the same. At eight, I was not prepared for what lie ahead of me. There were times when I had nothing to eat, no clean clothes, and once I remember not having electric. Not that we didn’t have the money, he just stopped caring about everything. My dad would wake up and drink, come home at lunch and drink, fall asleep and drink some more when he’d get up. Not only had I lost my mom, but my dad, who was the only adult I had to depend on, became a blubbering drunk. He almost lost the electrical store; and how he kept it from going under was nothing less than a miracle. When I got older, I would be dropped off after school and take over because he would be too drunk by noon. With the help of Dan, his biggest customer, I would wait on customers, take orders over the phone, and I could cut wire like a pro. I was twelve years old and practically running a business by myself until the late afternoon when my dad would get sober long enough to work a few hours. My dad didn’t stay drunk around the clock every day, but he was an alcoholic and his constant drinking made my life a living hell. Thankfully, I was pretty mature for my age and learned how to wash clothes, clean, and cook at the ripe young age of twelve. My uncle and aunt now say they didn’t realize how bad things were at the time. Yes, they would stop in for a visit on the weekends, and my aunt would bring food once in a while, but they knew. They knew and didn’t want to be bothered. For whatever reason, we made it through the darkest times. I wouldn’t admit it, but I had a lot of hurtful feelings.

My dad’s breaking point came when he received divorce papers the summer before my senior year. He took his truck home from the bar instead of calling me to come and get him. That night he drove his truck into a tree, broke both legs, and had to be pried out of his truck. I had to work at the electrical store most of my senior year of high school. However, the accident finally made him realize what he was doing was going to kill him eventually. I was working on our relationship and trying to get closer to him. I can forgive him, that’s easy; it's forgetting that’s the hardest.

The thought of going back home made me panicky thinking of all I left behind. I hated to go back there and be bombarded with memories of Kris. I avoided going home at every cost making up more excuses than I could keep straight. But this time, something in my dad’s voice made me want to see him. He sounded different. His call made me also wonder where my mom could be and what she might be doing somewhere. The three of us were a family once, for a short time. Now, I didn’t even know if she was alive. I had no contact with her in years. Nineteen to be exact. The last time I’d heard from my mom was right after she left. She wrote a letter to let me know she wasn’t coming back home but wanted to make sure I knew she loved me. She promised she would stay in touch, and I could come and stay with her once she was settled.

My mom never must’ve got settled, because I didn’t hear from her. I was over missing her and being angry for leaving us. I wanted to know where she lived if she was even alive, and that was all. All the love I had before my mom abandoned us, had been long gone. I felt virtually nothing for the woman I was once inseparable from at one time. Honestly, I was cold inside and didn’t have a love for too many people. The anger was gone, but the hurt she caused would be there forever and forever having me question if anyone loved me or I could love anyone.

Chapter 7

T
he
next day was insanely busy at the salon. There was some fundraiser going on in the city and the place was wall to wall women wanting their hair done. Most of them I had not styled before, and let me tell you, none of them were satisfied with what we did. The only thing that helped me through was knowing I was off for a week. I was longing to go home to have a hot shower and start my vacation when a huge floral arrangement came to the salon before closing. The flowers were every type of wildflower imagined, so bright and colorful in a huge vase. The delivery boy weaved and wrestled to get the flowers in the door to the gasps of the customers.

“Oh Sven, you shouldn’t have, honey. I know last night was incredible. Oh wait, these are for our Gabby.” Tab laughed along with the women looking over at Sven. I was washing a client’s hair and looked up. For me? No one sent me flowers. This had to be a mistake.

My face lit up red and Rhonda pinched me on the butt.

“Girl, what have you been up to? You made someone happy.”

I rolled my eyes, dried off my hands, and went to see who the card was from. I figured it might be my dad buttering me up to come home.

I snatched the note out of Tab’s hand before he could read the message.

“Come on honey, I need to know who sent you flowers.”

“That’s none of your business,” I smiled and opened the card.

I thought of u. Beautiful wildflowers. Thanks for spending time with me. I WILL see u soon. Colt

Minutes after the flowers were delivered I received a text.

Thinking of u.
I was stunned he had my number.

Colt, flowers r amazing. U shouldn’t have. How did you get my #?
A half minute later he texted back to me.

I have my ways. Need to see u. Go out with me this weekend.

Going to Ohio. I’ll call when I get back.

Looking fwd to it.

I rolled my eyes and threw my phone back in my station drawer. Though he had intrigued me, and yes he was gorgeous, I wasn’t looking for a man. He wasn’t my type of man and being with him was a waste of my time.

I was busy with new clients and didn’t have a moment to rest until we closed for the night. I remembered Colt talking about his girlfriend Claire coming in and I wanted to find out if Sven remembered her. After the last client left, and I had counted my tips, I looked at the files and found her on the computer. Claire Sills did come in once a month for a cut and a color and her appointments stopped abruptly. I didn’t remember her, even though I worked there at the time, but probably because she always had early morning appointments with Sven. While I was closing, and helping Sven, I asked him if he recalled working with her.

“Sven, do you remember someone named, Claire Sills? She came in here a couple of years ago. You were the one that cut her hair.” I was stuffing towels in the washing machine as Sven folded the dried ones. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me.

“Claire Sills, yes. Her accident was awful. She was such a sweet and beautiful woman.”

“Accident? What kind of accident?”

“Car. Why do you ask?” He began folding again.

“I met her boyfriend. He was the guy at Marco’s place. The pilot I told you about.” He turned to gaze at me.

“Wow. She used to tell me about him. Colt’s his name, right?”

“Yes, it’s Colt. How did she die in this accident?”

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