It’s Writing Challenge time!

“Hello there, Handsome.”
Nic Mulholland looked up, around the packed and arguing gallery, then back at the text that had just flashed up on his phone. Nope, absolutely no question who’d texted.
His thumbs caressed the keys briefly, then quickly flashed into action.
“Missing me?” he typed.
Her reply was equally fast.
“It’s been so long.”
“Two hours, Cary.”
“I felt so cold after breakfast when you left.”
Risking sending his blood pressure soaring when he should have been concentrating, he sent, “That would be because of the tiny little nightie you were wearing.”
“You no like?”
“Even my toast incinerated…”
“Maybe if you’d given me your pj top to coverup?”
“Difficult. I don’t wear pjs, remember.”
There was no reply to that, so after a minute he texted, “What’s on your mind? I thought we were both had an important meeting to go to this morning.”
“Am just imagining you beside me.”
“Beside you where, exactly?”
“Well, since you ask…”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and thanked god everyone’s attention was on his assistant, pen in hand, whiteboard before him, pointing out the statistics that mattered.
“Don’t toy with a man’s emotions,” he bashed out.
No reply again.
Nic swigged his coffee and tried to pay attention to what the curator was saying. Then his phone vibrated again.
“OK, since you ask, big boy, beside me walking me up the aisle.”
Nic choked on his drink. The meeting came to a standstill. Someone patted him on the back. Someone else brought him a drink of water. Really nice of them. None of it helped.
He signalled them to continue, and forced himself to keep his eyes off her. It wouldn’t be a good idea to look. To make eye contact. Something in him hurt like hell. And he had a nasty suspicion she’d see. She’d always seen what he was thinking, ever since kindergarten. His fingers flew over his keypad.
“Run that by me again.”
“Martin and I are getting married, Nic. Finally. In two weeks. I need my best guy to give me away. Will you do it?”
He looked up then alright, right across the table at her, sitting there anxiously nibbling her lip. Not looking at him. He’d been away for six months. Away from the London house they’d shared for years. It had seemed like a good idea to him at the time. His ideas weren’t always that great.
“Well?”
He watched her send the text. He barely glanced at it. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. And then she looked up. She was pale, those green eyes even bigger in her face and her efficient-as-all-hell hairstyle was hanging around her face where she’d been pulling down strands. He knew her nervy habits better than he knew himself.
So he nodded.

It was a well-known fact that little Skinny Charlie Lee had a mouth on her.
Ty Jacobs just never knew it could be as sexy as hell.
“I’ve blen wanting to do that fo sho long,” she slurred softly against the shell of his ear after breaking the kiss.
Ty attempted to peel his eyelids open and drag himself back into awareness. The act was a lot more difficult than it should’ve been on account of the tequila. And the whiskey. And, maybe the-
What the hell was it they’d started with?
He was drunk as a skunk. This had to be some sort of strange liquor induced hallucination. Little Skinny Charlie Lee would never sneak into his bed in the wee hours of the morning. Let alone, put the moves on him.
Relaxing, he settled back against the sheets. His brain had just gotten mixed up in his sleep was all. That’s what a wedding rehearsal, bachelor party and passing out in a guest room did to a Best Man’s mind. It made it malfunction and put Charlie’s cute little noggin on some other fantasy’s body. He wasn’t altogether at ease with it but…so what? It was just a harmless little dream. He might as well enjoy it.
“Have at it, baby,” he chuckled on a stretch.
A smile spread across his face as the silky hair on the cute Charlie noggin brushed by, catching on the stubble of his cheek. Slim knees splayed across his hips and pressed him deeper into the bed. Her talented tongue made swift work of parting his lips.
Watermelon… No. Sweet and sour apple. The soft sweep of her tongue shared a tantalizing hint of it each time it passed. Must’ve been that green concoction she’d tossed back repeatedly at the rehearsal dinner, eyeing him over the shot glass.
He swallowed and put a hand to the back of her head, gaining a better angle to delve deeper into the flavor. Her soft moan entered his mouth and set his blood on fire. Something soft nestled into the roving cup of his palm.
Ty managed to crack the corner of one eye open and admire the way her small breast fit so perfectly-
Wait a minute! This was Charlie. In the flesh. The same Charlie he’d first sparred with over a water pistol when he was seven. The same Charlie that had written his essay for Mrs. Peters in eighth grade when he’d been too slack to do it. And the same Charlie that had kicked him in the nether regions when he’d-
Aw, hell. He’d rather not think about his nether regions right now. Especially since she was having a different effect on them this time. A drastically different effect.
He blinked, struggling to clear the fog from his pupils. “Charlie-”
“Shhhhh…” Two fingertips fumbled over his face, drawing down his cheek to settle hard on his chin.
He grinned. Damn, she was lit. But, then again, so was he.
“You hafta be quiet,” she breathed. “Mark’s still up.”
“What?” The strangled squeak that burst from him was decidedly feminine.
Mark. Her older brother. His best friend. The one getting married tomorrow. And the one who’d designated him Best Man.
Ty froze. If Mark knew he was feeling up his little sister, he’d touch his backside with the blast of a bullet.
Touch… Ty groaned. Lord have mercy, what was she doing with her hands?
He heaved his upper half to his elbows, half-regretting the impulse when the earth tilted and brought the top of her gleaming, brown-haired head into his blurry vision. She flung her bob back just as she finagled her nails into the gap of his dress shirt and yanked. Buttons popped, clanged and scattered across the bed and onto the floor, rolling and spinning in all directions.
Charlie smiled down at him. Those little dimples of hers denting to brag their existence.
“That was afwat louder than I thlought it’d be,” she twittered out on a giggle.

Honey And the Law

“Put your hands behind your back and I’ll ask the sheriff to go easy on you.”

Honey Jacobs looked up to Billy and stuck her tongue out. “We grew up together. I was the only girl who would show you what petticoats look like under all these silly skirts when we were no older than ten. And now you’re just gonna stand there and arrest me Billy? When pigs fly!” She tried lifting a knee to kick backwards and hopefully connect her boot heel on his shin, but Billy was quick despite his size, easily side-stepped out of the way. Besides, he was the one who taught her how to do it.

“Honey, settle down. I told you if you kept on trying to steal Mr. Jacob’s horse that I’d have to arrest you for rustling.” She spat. Her curls fell out of her bonnet as her eyes burned. Billy was dead serious.

She calmed down then looked at him. “You ain’t serious, right Billy. I mean we promised to marry each other if no one else will have us.”

Billy locked gazes with her and her tummy turned just like it does when they roll the wagons up and down the steep hills. She licked her lips. She kinda liked how it made her feel all warm and gushy.

“If you keep actin’ like a boy, Honey Jacobs, I’ll be forced to marry you. Don’t you know that men want decent women, with soft skin and gentle manners?”

“But not you, huh Billy? You like me how I am.” He wrapped a stray flaxen curl around his finger, then he let it slip slowly through his grasp. This time, instead of her tummy tickling, something else did and she gasped despite herself.

“I don’t mind that you act like boy…” he whispered.
She purposely batted her eyes at him. “You still gonna take me in to the sheriff?”

“Nope, the judge.”
“The judge!”
“Uh huh, Cos I figure the only way to keep an eye on you, is to make you my wife.”

The End. 🙂

Will took the casserole dish off the counter and dunked it into the sudsy water. He had rinsed it already so the worse of the Italian chicken pasta sauce was already removed.

He snuck a sideways glance at Hannah as she dried the lid. With her red roan hair pulled back in a pony she looked thirteen again.

His hint of a laugh made Hannah look up at him with smokey green eyes. “What?” She asked with a slight smile. No, there was no mistaking the full grown woman for a young girl.

“I was just thinking you look about thirteen right now.” Will raised one massive shoulder in a shrug.

“Thanks, I think.” Hanna wrinkled her nose at him. “You don’t look at all thirteen years old.”

Not with that body or that face. Will looked even better now than when they had been in their teens and she had had the biggest crush on her brother’s best friend.

In the last few weeks, sharing a house with Will had reignited that crush and pushed it all the way to full blown infatuation. Maybe even beyond that, but without asking Will about his feelings, Hannah didn’t want to explore her emotions too much.

“What? I look like an old guy?” Will lifted the dish into the double sink and ran the sprayer over it to remove the suds.

“No, of course not, you are certifiably hunk material. No wonder Tiffany is mad I am sharing rent with you. She probably thinks I have designs on you. Besides you’re only three years older than me.” Hanna tried to keep it sounding casual. Dropping Will’s girlfriend’s name would divert his attention right?

Will turned to look Hannah in the eye. “And do you?”

“What?” She said, trying to sound innocent.

“Do you want to take this friendship further than that awkward kiss we shared when we were teenagers?” Hanna could see Will was completely serious.

“I, I don’t know.” The words stumbled out, but they weren’t the right words. What was wrong with her? The answer was obvious, fear.

“Then let’s find out shall we?” Will moved, grasping Hannah around the waist and pulling her against his tall hard body then his mouth came down on her upturned lips.

Will had learned a thing or two about kissing women during the ensuing twelve years since he had last kissed Hannah and he used none of it consciously. This was about raw emotion and need.

Hannah responded to that emotion with her own need. Her lips clung to Will’s and she dropped the tea towel to bury her fingers in his thick,thick wavy auburn hair.

It was such a relief to finally get to touch him as she wanted. To feel that strong mouth take her kiss, experience the texture of his skin against hers as ran her hands down his broad back and under his shirt to touch his hot skin.

Will slid his own hands under her tank top and touched her pale skin. He could feel her respond, her nipples hardened under his touch, he devoured her mouth as his body responded too.

They broke the kiss, both breathing hard but still touching.

“I think the dishes can wait.” Hanna said huskily.

For an answer Will took Hannah up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

Lyle’s office door flew open, making him look up from the documents he had been signing.
Heather, who he considered to be more of a close friend than just his secretary of several years, burst into the room.
Her wide set blue eyes were sparkling, more than usual and deep colour stained her smooth porcelain skin. Something must have happened to get her into such a state. She looked happy yet on the verge of tears. Swiftly placing his pen onto his desk, he rose to his feet, aware of how his muscular build of over six feet, towered over her five foot three, making her appear even more fragile.
“You’ll never guess what has happened!” The words came out in a breathless rush as she came to stand in front of him, gazing up at him. Without giving him a chance to answer she continued. “He asked me to marry him!”
Lyle felt his temperature and every drop of blood in his body plummet to his feet as her words hit him with the force of a wrecking ball.
She frowned. “Why aren’t you saying anything, aren’t you happy for me?”
His heart was thundering against his ribcage as he tried to say something, form some congratulatory words, but found himself unable to.
Instead, the reality of his feelings for her, feelings which he had concealed even from himself in the guise of ‘friendship’ poleaxed him.
The fact that she was in a relationship hadn’t affected the strong bond they shared, as friends… until now.
His relationship with her suddenly felt threatened.
Blinking furiously as if trying to keep her emotions in check, she tucked a strand of stray brunette hair behind her ear and looked at him anxiously. “I was wondering on the way to work, that since I have no one else, and you meaning so much to me, could… could give me away? Will you Lyle? Will you give me away?”
He grey eyes stared straight into her. His mouth dry, “No.” ripped from him.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” Heroine grinned, pulling out of his arms and landing a quick punch on one bicep. “Toned as ever, I see”

“Still able to play a mean game of touch football?” Hero challenged, trying to cover up the fact he hadn’t quite been ready for her move out of his embrace so quickly.

“Let me guess, you’ve all planned a surprise game in the park and a BBQ?” she teased.

He shrugged good-humouredly. She didn’t need to know that, for a while there, he’d contemplated talking the guys into ditching the BBQ, so that he could take her for a romantic welcome home meal- just the two of them – tonight.

He’d stopped himself just in time. Heroine was meant to be his best friend. His go-to girl. His confidante.

He wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love with her. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love, full stop. He was a player. Everyone knew it. And he’d seen first hand what happened when a player fell in love, got married, had a kid and then fell out of love. They made mistakes which hurt people. Hero wasn’t about to make the same mistakes as his father had.

So, here he was, in love with his best friend and unable to do a darned thing about it.

He’d only realised it yesterday morning, when he’d found himself washing his best date jeans and tee, cleaning his flat and…for good’s sake…valeting his battered old 4×4. All in preparation for picking her up from the airport after a year away with her work. Still, she might not notice.

Heroine yanked open the door and flopped into the passenger seat. A moment later sitting back up, having a good look around and emitting a low whistle.

“Who’s the girl?”

“What girl?”

She arched one knowing eyebrow at him.

“Hero, you’ve cleaned your 4X4. You’ve got your lucky jeans on.”

“Nah, I did that for you,” he answered truthfully.

Her peal of laughter confirmed his suspicions. Heroine was never going to take him seriously.

“So, how’s the high-flying career?”

Did he detect a beat of hesitation before she answered him?

“Still flying-high,” she laughed. “Thank goodness.”

Picking up her suitcase and trying not to react to the comfortable feel of her arm sliding through his as they left the airport, he considered the stunning, intelligent, driven woman on his arm.

“Are you pleased to be back?”

She flashed him a sharp look.

“You know I hate it.”

“Only because you have this misplaced complex that you’re still the skinny, lanky nerdy geek and everyone else is a cool kid.”

She shrugged, obviously not wanting to answer him. Hero sighed. It didn’t matter how many times he told her, she wouldn’t – or maybe couldn’t – believe him that she was now the proverbial stunning swan. He was going to have to find some other way to prove it to her, because until she loved herself, he was pretty sure she wasn’t about to believe anyone else could.

And even if a player like him could never make her happy, she deserved to find it with someone.

“This time home you’ll see,” he assured her.

The silence pressed heavily on him. He felt like he was missing something. He turned to face her, resisting the impulse to fold his arms across his chest.

Heroine licked her lips nervously.

“I guess this is as good a time as any. They offered me the promotion I’ve been desperately after for years. I fly back out next week. For good.”

Noooooooooo!!! Don’t go!!! Absolutely love the way you have written this piece, Charlotte! 🙂

Take charge kind of guy. At least he got in before it was too late.

Hidden in the shadows, she shudders uncontrollably as she wades through the three stages of shock.

How could this have happened?

As her heart drowns in pain her throat is constricted by the handful of pills that she just inhaled. Desperate and alone she reaches for her cellphone.

Sobbing, she cries out to him in a whisper. “Logan, I need you.”

“Natalya?”

“Help me, please!”

The noise of the crowd drives him onto the street, and fear takes root in his bones. “Natalya, where are you? What’s wrong babe?”

“I can’t take it anymore. I’m so tired.”

Racing to his car he hears nothing but the softness of her voice and the vicious whip of the wind.

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

With a brittle laugh, she sighs, “Where I always am. I’m at home.”

“I’m just around the corner. I’m coming Natty.”

Slurring, she replies, “No; I don’t want to interrupt your evening. I just…I want you to know how much you mean to me; how important you are and have been to my life.”

“Natty, have you been drinking?”

“Of course not.”

“Let me in; I’m outside.”

“I can’t. I can’t get up. Please, I don’t wanna go.”

Rumbling through his pocket he finds his keys. Her scent and his instincts drives him straight to her. Crouching low he cups her face in his hands. Barley conscious, she mumbles nonsense to him.

“What have you done Natty baby?”

Patting her cheeks he reaches for the lamp plug. Casting a bright glow on the room the answer to his question lies beneath her left thigh. Reaching for the object he curses as he peers at the empty pill bottle.

Collapsing alongside her, tears fill his eyes as he calls 911.

The ambulance ride is filled with calls to her family and a few of their mutual friends. Anything to distract himself from the very real possibility that his best friend just may die tonight.

~ ~ ~

The wait in the hospital waiting room is excruciating as family and friends file inside in a panic. And although he is surrounded by the familiar he has never felt so desperately alone. Each breath burns as it hits his lungs, threatening to drive him to his knees. This can’t be happening. They are a team; forever and always.

A brief strike of anger overcomes him, and like a rabid dog he cannot sit still. He is too aggravated to be touched, yet hands continue to find their way onto his skin.

“Logan honey, there you are. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

“Ashley, what are you doing here?”

“I managed to reach your brother and he told me where you were.”

“Please remind me to thank him later,” he mumbles.

She laughs in that whiny way that she seems to have perfected.

“You look tired honey, lets get you home.”

“I’ll meet you there later. I want to wait until I can see her.”

“That could be hours Logan. She doesn’t need you here. There is nothing that you can do for her now.”

“She is my best friend, and I need to be here for her. It’s not like I’ll be able to rest anyway.”

Clasping his hands, she pouts as she pleads with him.

“Stop it Ashley. Go home. I will call you later.”

“Logan, her mother and father are right over there; I think she can do without you for the night. I, however, need you now.”

“Ashley!”

“What Logan? I am so sick of this.”

Pulling her to him, he growls into her ear, “Keep your voice down. This is not the place.”

She hisses, “I am sick of you putting her before me. How long do you expect me to continue being number two in your life?”

“We have been friends since we were ten. She has always been there for me and now she needs me, and there is nowhere else that I would rather be.”

“You need to decide Logan, me or her. Which one of us do you love the most? Which one of us can you not live without?”

His gut tightens as realization hits. Pressing his lips to hers he kisses her as gratitude washes over him.

She lights up at the passion in his eyes.

“Thank you Ashley.” Lifting her hands, he places a light kiss on each of her palms. “You just showed me my future, and I am in love with what I saw, with what could be. I’m in love with her.”

Startled, Ashley looks at him as if he has just slapped her. Embarrassment heats up her cheeks, but fury drives her hand and she lands a heavy palm against his cheek.

“How dare you,” she stutters. “You bastard!”

“Ashley?”

“Don’t say another word to me. Don’t you even look at me, and when your precious Natalya breaks you don’t look for me to repair the damage.”

To her back, he calls out, “I am sorry Ashley; I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Throwing up the back of her hand she disappears around the corner. Sighing and filled with new found wonder he turns, and nearly collides with the doctor.

“She is awake sir, and she is asking for you. Would you like to see her?”

“Is she going to be alright doc?”

“She’ll recover, but I am going to have to report this incident.”

“Take me to her. I need to see her.”

“I understand sir, just follow me.”

Walking him to the door, the doctor gestures for him to enter and his nerves cause him to break out into a sweat. Breathless he steps into the room and stares into the eyes of his destiny.

Ashamed, she turns away.

“Don’t do that. Natalya, baby, what were you thinking?”

“It was stupid, I know.”

“How would I live without you?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” she declares. Caressing his knuckles she sighs in defeat. “I was being completely selfish.”

“No, no; don’t beat yourself up. That is not what this is about. We are going to get through this together.”

“Like we always do?”

“Like we always do.”

“I love you Logan.”

“And I love you too. Unfortunately it took almost losing you for me to know just how much.”

Closing her eyes, they flutter wide when he blows softly against them, and in their depths there lies a clear question.

“No more hiding, for either of us. I promise to see you through this, but I need a promise from you too. I need you to promise me that you won’t ever try to leave me again.”

“This was an impulsive mistake; I won’t make it again.”

“We all make mistakes sweetheart.” Running his fingers through her locks, he reaches for her bag as he settles behind her.

“What about Ashley?”

As he pulls the hair brush through her tangled curls, he shakes his head from left to right. “She doesn’t matter, she never did. She’s gone.”

“So it’s just you and me?”

“Yep, just like it should be. Like it’s always been.”

Wife Deal
(The Love Brother Trilogy)

“What do you mean, ‘you like me’?” Cassie Martindale challenged, backing away toward her office door, her six-inch stiletto heels lightly tapping the Italian-marbled floor.

“I didn’t say ‘like.’ I said ‘love,’ Cassie. There’s a difference.”

Cassie gulped, then reached for the highly-polished, brass lever of her office door. But could she really leave? After all, she needed this job more than…Winston (Wink) Love in her life, didn’t she?

Winston (Wink) Love, stuffed-shirt esquire of The Love Law Firm, stood dismayed. He wasn’t accustomed to such personal challenge by a fleeing assistant. His Firm -— where his unique last name of “Love” always got potential clients in the door and his expertise protected the Firm from ever losing a case —- was now in jeopardy of losing something more precious to himself than his undefeated corporate trial record, and her name was Cassie Martindale.

Cassie was a gal with an hour-glass figure, hot, cooking mouth, and long, solid-blonde hair —- just what The Firm boss needs to secure a wife in his future. Without her, The Firm would go belly up, because his name would be mud.

Wink tossed the file in his hands to the desk’s top. Then inched toward Cassie with a calm coolness in his steps and a broad grin on his chiseled face.

She sidestepped him and rushed to her solid oak desk. Pulling open the drawers in rapid succession, she finger-raked through their contents and said, “I need a cigarette!”

“But you don’t smoke,” he said, turning, stupefied, watching Cassie making a mess of every drawer she ransacked. “Didn’t you tell me that, the day you interviewed for me?”

She stopped suddenly to gape up at him from her bent position.

“What’s the matter, break a nail?”

“Yess!” she cried, picking up the fractured piece, stepping away from the desk.

“Well,” he said, moving hastily to the drawers, closing them. “I never liked those things.”

“What, cigarettes?” she said, looking at him, her rich, full lips cracking a smile.

Wink arched back as he sunk his hands deep into the trouser pockets of his custom-made Italian suit, assessing the situation. Then, with words smooth as silk, he said, “Are you toying with me?”

Cassie’s large, moss-green eyes shied away. Then she turned back in Wink’s direction, tossing her broken nail piece into the garbage pale beside her desk, as she plopped her ass down into her chair. “I don’t care what you never liked. You know how long it took me to put these on?” she asked, holding her spread fingers up for him to see.

“No time at all,” he quipped, moving to her oversized office window, pointing through it. “You had them done at the Nails Plus Salon up the street.” He turned back to her. “The second day you worked here.”

Piqued with curiosity she asked, “You had me followed?”

“Not a bad idea —- but no, of course not,” he said through a wince of facial humor. “You had asked me for an extended lunch, so that you could go.”

“Oh, yeah,” she smiled, in spite of herself, leaning back in her chair, putting her legs, ankles crossed, up onto her desk. “I forgot. Ha-ha! The jokes on me.”

Wink stared at her long, fit legs. He’d surely welcome them wrapping around him at the neck, with his face nestled in her most intimate area, working it out with his tongue. Eyeing her stilettos, he thought about removing them, so that when she stood again he’d be more on par with her height, when he moved to kissed her lips. “See,” he said, pointing at her with charisma. “I’m growing on you already.”

Cassie’s tender face crunched. She pulled her feet off the desk and dropped them down onto the floor. “Ow,” she griped, feeling the shockwave of her stiletto heels contacting the floor radiate up through her shins. How could she have forgotten that wearing spikes like these came with repercussions? she wondered, as she bent forward to massage her toned calves.

“Those shoes. I don’t like them. They make you too tall,” Wink said, craning his neck, watching her massage her calves.

“They wouldn’t, if you weren’t such a shrimp!”

At five feet eight inches tall, Wink wasn’t that small. But Cassie’s barefoot five-foot ten-inch height in six-inch stiletto heels dwarfed him. Since his youth, he’d always been self-conscious about his height —-especially early on when he barely grew. But Cassie had never teased him about his shortness in the school yard, like the other kids had. He wondered what her doing so now meant.

“Oh, touché, Mademoiselle,” he said, moving closer to her.

She looked up at him, still massaging her calves and said, “Would you stop talking foreign, please? You know I don’t understand it.”

“What foreign?” he asked outstretching his arms, pleading his case. “It’s just a couple of French words. You know that’s my extent of languages.”

“Damn it!”

“What now? A run in your stocking from your broken nail snagging it?”

“Yess!” she blurted, standing in frustration.

With an examining expression, he remarked, “Guess you should’ve gone bare legged today.”

She glared at him, and with a deliberateness in her words asked, “Then if you don’t like the nails, why’d you let me go?”

“Exactly!”

Something in Wink’s response said that Cassie was supposed to have understood what “exactly” meant. But did she? Or, was it just that she didn’t want to understand what he meant, because of what it might mean to her? To them?

“Don’t you see, Cassie? Everything about me is love. Even my last name.”

“That’s not something you chose,” she said, investigating the tear in her stocking.

“Then don’t you think I know what’s in my heart? I love you. We lived on the same block growing up -—”

“Same neighborhood, not block —-”

“We always played together -—”

“You were six, I was four -—”

“We went to dances together in high school -—”

“Never as a couple, always as friends -—”

“We now work together -—”

“Yeah,” she said standing erect. “You’re the boss, I’m the employee. We hadn’t seen each other for five years, until I came in here three days ago, asking for a job. T…there’s something backward about what you’re telling me now.”

“The only thing backward is your thinking, Cassie. So what if we’ve just reconnected and I’m your boss.”

“S…so what?” she stammered. “Isn’t that…can’t that be considered sexual harassment?”

“As a paralegal, Cassie,” he said, sitting in her chair, finger-locking his hands behind his thick-black hair. “You of all people should know that what I said isn’t sexual harassment.”

“And why’s that…‘Counselor’?” she challenged.

“Because it’s the truth.”

“About the sexual harassment thing?” she asked sweetly, inching toward him.

“You know what I mean, Ms. Cutesie Pants.”

“Now ‘that’s’ sexual harassment,” she grinned as she tapped his chest once, then shied away.

“Look, Cassie, you know that my parents got married after only knowing each other for seven days.”

“Married,” she said, losing herself in a dreamlike thought of what something like that must feel like.

“Yeah. For life. But that was a different time. Old world. I’m not asking you to marry me after only a week. That’s why I told you now that I love you.”

She turned to him in a huff. “Would you stop saying that!”

He stood, his eyes locked on hers. “Why?” he asked, dancing his brow at her. “Because you love me, too?”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” she spat, crossing her arms, moving clickitty, click to the other side of the room.

“Then, you’re saying that you ‘don’t’ love me?”

She huffed a beaten breath. “I’m saying that you’re confusing me.”

Well, get unconfused, I’m a busy man.”

“Then in that case, ‘Mr. Busy’—”

“Yes?”

“…I love you, too.”

“Great!” he said, closing the distance between them and taking her in his arms. “We’ll get married in the morning.”

“Tomorrow!?” she asked, leaning back in his hold.

“Yes. Why? Something wrong?”

“With no gown? No guests? No reception? Of course there’s something wrong! I mean…getting married. That’s all I ever dreamt about…I think.”

“You think?” he asked as she broke from his hold.

“What would I tell my best friend -— she’d be my Maid-of-Honor? And, oh my God, my parents! I’m their only daughter!”

“Then you’re saying ‘no’?”

“Not ‘no,’ ‘can’t.’ Not like this.” She picked up a tension squeeze ball from her desk and added, “Too many people would be disappointed, if they were left out.”

“And what about your happiness, Cassie?”

She shrugged. “Never mattered much. You of all people should know that.”

Yes, Wink knew all about the reasons for Cassie’s uncertainties, reservations, and fears. Had he been foolish to believe that she’d have grown to accept them more as she matured?…

“That was a long time ago, Cassie,” he said with feeling, as he encouraged the tension ball from her hand.

“It never leaves me alone, Wink.” No one ever gave me anything.”

“‘Gave you anything’?” he asked, tossing the ball back to the desk. “What about your parents?”

“Okay, Mr. Exact Words, I misspoke. I meant, no one ever gave me a chance. Like this Firm of yours. You went to fancy-schmansie schools—- you were given an opportunity to make something of yourself. Me? I’m another story.”

“That’s not fair, Cassie, to either yourself or to me.”

“I didn’t know that we had a session today, ‘doctor.’”

“But you said that you love me, too.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, deadpan. “I was mistaken.”

“Okay. If that’s the way you want it.”

“That’s the way it is, Wink.”

“Then, okay…we’ll switch roles.”

“What?”

He reached up and tapped her left shoulder, then moved his hand past her face and tapped her right shoulder as he said, “I knight thee, boss of The Love Law Firm.”

She giggled, looking dwn at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Afraid not, ‘Counselor.’ Your wish is my command. Now’s your chance, hot shot. Here’s someone giving you something. Run with it.”

Her mouth fell open as he stepped by her.

“I’ll be in your office, Cassie, if you need me.”

Before today, Jax’s love and admiration for her had been nothing but a budding childhood friendship. As he watched Casey meander down the crowded hallway of the airport terminal, Jax’s heart lurched and ached in his chest. She was leaving to start college. Going to college was something she had dreamed of for so long, and he felt that it was up to him to see that she accomplished it.

His first thought, every day since they met, was of her. He taught her how to ride a bike. He bought her, her first rootbeer float. He walked with her in the pouring rain, holding an umbrella just over her head so she wouldn’t get sick. He asked her to Prom just so she could have the experience. He invited her to help him fix up his old car, so her summer wouldn’t be so long and monotonous. And now, he had brought her all the way to Atlanta to see her off to school. It was a three hour trip full of their last laughs, their last secrets, and their last smiles. The next morning, Jax would be leaving for boot camp and then for overseas.

At the end of the seemingly endless hallway, before turning left toward her boarding gate, Casey paused. Jax’s heart raced and beat loudly in his ears. Hope burned like a blazing fire through every vein in his body. She turned to face him, but couldn’t bare to see his face. Seeing him would make me go back, she thought, I would never leave his arms. She turned left and continued down the corridor. As fast as hope came to Jax, it left him.
Feeling emotionally exhausted, Jax shuffled toward the escalator, stepped on, and rode it to the ground level. It’s just as well, he decided, trying to make excuses for the despair he felt deep inside. Not like she could come with me. She needs to go to school. It’s what’s best. My life has already been made complete because of her very existence.
He struggled to choke back tears, as he weaved between travelers and family members bidding a loving farewell to each other. His throat tightened. He clenched his eyes tightly together, to keep tears from streaming down his face. Breathless, and angry with himself for not confessing to her how he felt, Jax leaned on a planter near a bench and tried to catch his breath. He wanted to scream and yell. He wanted to go back and ask her to stay at last one more night. He wished like hell he hadn’t enlisted when he did. He wished he had realized what she meant to him, and had the nerve to tell her.

Gaining control of his emotions, at least enough to get himself to the car and let it all out, Jax moved away from the bench, past the ticket counters, and out into the sunlight. He stopped, looked high into the sky, and breathed deeply through his nose. She will never know, he thought helplessly.

Jax stepped lifelessly across the street to the parking garage. As he walked, Jax pulled his keys from his pocket, and glanced down at them. To anyone else it was just a set of keys, but to him they held two specific memories.

The first memory was the day he and Casey had finished fixing up his 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air Hardtop Coupe. The day was exceptionally cold for late Spring, he recalled. He had just tightened the last of the bolts on the engine, and was eager to start the car. Turning to Casey, he chuckled heartily at the smudged of grease across her smooth cheek.

“What?” she questioned, pushing a long strand of her flaxen colored hair out of her eyes, and smiling.

He shook his head and grinned. “Nothing? Wanna go for a ride?”

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “We haven’t been working on this just to look at it.”

They climbed in and rode along the shoreline of their small coastal Georgia town. Windows down, music blaring, speed steadily increasing. They had stopped to walk the beach, watch the sunset dip beyond the blue-silver waters, and grab ice cream at ‘The Shack’. They talked vividly about their impending graduation and the future. That night, she told him about her plans to attend college. It had crushed him to think of losing his best-friend.

Jax stepped up onto the sidewalk, at the airport, and turned the large, old key over and over in his hand. Approaching the elevator, Jax quickly decided against the urine stench he previously encountered in it, and began to climb the stairs to the third floor.

The second memory Jax´s keys held was the morning he and Casey had, had an argument about him joining the Army, the evening before, without thinking about what it would entail or how his family would handle him possibly never returning from war. Casey had yelled and cried. She had begged him to go back, to change his mind. He was firm in his decision.

“Hey,” Casey said, as she approached the garage where Jax was diligently washing his Coupe.

“Hey,” he replied, not making eye contact with her.

“I…I wanted to tell you that I was sorry. I shouldn´t have yelled at you like that. I just…” she said, stumbling over her words and biting her lip.

“I know you´re sorry. So am I. After you left, I realized that I needed to talk to my folks, and to you about my choice to enlist,” he smiled.

Her emerald green eyes met his deep brown-golden eyes. Casey´s heart skipped a beat and she moved closer to him. Before today, she hadn´t seen him as anyone other than the awkward boy she met when she moved here at eight years old. She hadn´t seen him as anything other than the shy teenager who asked her to Prom. And she hadn´t seen him as anyone other than her secret-keeper, the one person who could cheer her up in any situation, her partner-in-crime…Her best-friend.

“I brought you this,” she said, handing him a royal-blue rabbit´s foot. “For luck.”

“I´ll carry it with me everyday, Case.”

“You better,” she answered, offering him a halfhearted smirk. A tear rolled down her cheek and she hoped deep in her heart that he´d return, if not for her, then for his family. Jax wiped the tear away and wrapped her in his comforting and loving embrace.

Reaching the top of the steps, on the third floor, Jax felt the soft rabbit´s fur. It was silky like Casey´s golden hair. He wished again that he had told her.

“I can´t go,” her voice spoke softly.

Sitting on the trunk, of his Coupe, was his beloved Casey. “Why didn´t you get on the plane? Classes start on Monday!” He stepped in front of her.

“Because I had to tell you…that I love you.” Casey wrapped her arms around Jax´s neck, and pressed her full, pink lips against his.