THREE

~Dixon~

“GO FISH.”

“I can’t believe it. I’m losing at Go Fish.” I took a swig of my beer and grabbed the top card. “How can I be losing at a kid’s game?”

“Maybe you’re just a kid...who sucks at Go Fish.” Cora giggled. “Do you have an eight?”

That giggle kicked me in the gut. I looked over the cards in my hand and met her stare. How could she be so serious about the game but still be tipsy and giggly? And how did someone get tipsy on one beer?

“You know I do. Damn it. I really suck at this game.” I handed over the card, trying my best to avoid touching her hand. There’d be more sparks, and I wasn’t sure I could trust myself to not turn a casual touch to a stroke, and then to a full caress, and then the possibilities seemed endless. Or, actually, they seemed like they’d end in bed. Which, I knew, would be a beautiful mistake. But still, a mistake. She was the kind of woman who deserved more than a one-night stand, and that’s all I’d ever done...all I was willing to do.

“Do you have a...” Cora seemed to be lost in thought. “A queen?”

I licked my lips. “Ah...no. Alas, I have no queen in my life, or in my hand.”

A pink blush covered her face as she reached for the deck. “That’s not what I was axing...I mean, asking.” Another giggle escaped before she took a sip from the longneck.

All I could do was watch as she tipped her head back, put her luscious pale-pink lips on the bottle, and swallowed the liquid. Her skin practically shimmered as she sighed.

“Yummy. I forgot how much I like beer.” She whispered the words, as though it were some kind of personal confession. Then she broke out into a wide smile. “Can I have another?”

“Sure, I guess. You sure you can handle it?” From the looks of things—the way she held her cards loosely, the way she seemed to drift off, the way she was mixing up her words, the way she giggled at the slightest thing—she was definitely a lightweight.

She peered up at me. “I can handle it.” A delicate belch punctuated her assertion.

I stood to get another beer for each of us. “How’s that ankle? It’s been about an hour since you had that aspirin.”

“What ankle?” Cora giggled. “You mean this ankle?” She lifted her leg off the coffee table and rotated her left ankle. “Shit! Ouch! Damn!”

“I’ll take that as it only hurts when you move it. Here, put it back down and rest it some more. I’m sure kicking my butt at Go Fish will improve your disposition.” I put the beer bottle next to her cards and moved to get her leg back on the pillow on the coffee table. I was jonesing for my next fix of touching Cora, and I wasn’t about to miss out on my chance to feel that silky soft skin under my fingers.

“So, Dixon...if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Cora watched me holding her leg, making sure it settled softly on the pillow.

Her calf muscle was firm, probably from those high heels. God, I’d love to see her in them...and nothing else. Thoughts of her body, wet and ready for me, filled my head. Shit, she was waiting for an answer...what was the question?

“Where would I go? I dunno. I like it here, right here with you. Something like this would be fine with me.”

“Seriously? Right here? In a bachelor pad, over your brother’s bar, in a room so beige it could put you to sleep, where you can practically be in every room in two steps...that’s your dream travel destination?” She cocked her head, her mouth pursed.

“What can I say? I’ve got lofty goals.” I picked at the label on the beer bottle. I could sense her stare, demanding to know the truth. “Well, I suppose, if you made me choose, the place I’d like to go isn’t really what you’d call a travel destination. It’d just be a place, a place of my own, out in the country a bit. Nothing big or extravagant. Simple. Easy. Out of the hustle and bustle. Somewhere I could see the moon and stars, hear the crickets, catch fireflies.”

I looked up and was blown over by the smile on her face. All dreamy, like she was right there in my little travel fantasy.

“Fireflies? I loved catching fireflies when I was a kid. At my grandmother’s cottage...” She swallowed and grew quiet for a few seconds. She reached for the bottle at her side and took a long drink. “Got any sexes in your hand? Sixes. Sixes, that’s what I mean.” Cora looked at the cards in her hands, a soft pink blush covering her cheeks at her slip.

I grinned. Damn straight I had some sex. And later, I’d be having the kind of sex a guy like me, hung up on a dream woman, had...the self-serving kind, jerking off in the shower and imagining it was Cora with me, not my hand.

“No sixes in my hand.” I thought about offering some of that sex she drunkenly said she was after, and my mind wandered right back into the gutter. But again, some inner voice reminded me she deserved more than a one-night stand. God, this was going to be a long night. “Go fish.”

Her hand trembled as she reached for the deck to pick up her card.

“So what about you, Cora? What would be your dream travel spot? The Greek isles? Australia? Iceland?” I took a quick swig of my beer and tried to focus on the game or the conversation, not the way she held the cards in her small hand or the way she bit her lip in concentration. “Do you have a five?”

“Hmmm... I’ve been to so many places already that sometimes it seems like there’s nowhere new to go. One of the perks—” She jerked her head back.

Why, I had no idea.

She grabbed the longneck and took a sip, as if to cover for her sudden stop in conversation. “Nope, no five.”

“Darn. I was sure you had some secret stash of fives in that hand of yours.” I tried to joke to lighten her mood. Whatever she didn’t want to talk about was fine with me as long as she was still right here in front of me. “But that’s okay. Everyone’s entitled to their secrets.”

“I think I should head out soon. I’ve taken enough of your night.” Cora moved as if she were going to get up again.

Even though it shouldn’t bother me, her continued efforts to leave had my heart sinking. I put my hand on her leg. Those damn tingles started up again, but I couldn’t let myself get distracted. Between her ankle and the two beers—and her apparent lightweight status—I wasn’t sure driving home was a good idea, and I told her so. “I dunno. You might want to rethink that. I’m not trying to be bossy here, but you’re probably in no condition to drive home. If you were down in Jake’s, he’d call you a cab or something. But you’re up here, all comfy on the couch. Your leg is up and icing. Maybe you should stay here tonight.”

She stared at me. Or rather, at my mouth. I held my breath as I waited for her to respond. God knew I wanted her to stay. I mean, really wanted her to stay. I promised myself I’d be a gentleman—against my instincts that demanded I show her the benefits of not being a gentleman—but I figured she needed to hear that I wasn’t trying to get her into my bed. Even if that was my usual game.

“Honest. No hanky-panky. Just a safe place for you to crash. No need to drive impaired or try to deal with your ankle. I’ll take the couch and you can have the bed. Scout’s honor.”

“Scout’s honor?” Her laugh exploded. “You mean, the kicked-out-of-the-Cub-Scouts-honor?” She hiccupped and tried to catch her breath. She lifted her leg off the coffee table and placed it on the floor. After putting a little pressure on it, she eased back into the couch. “Maybe you’re right. It’s not giving me a ton of problems, but it’s still sore. Some more ice and keeping it up sounds good to me. And yeah, I’d be happy to not deal with driving or taking a cab.” She grinned and held her bottle up. “And I can indulge in one more of these.”

“You sure? You look like you might have hit your limit there.”

“If I’m not driving, and I’m not going to walk down any stairs tonight, I can handle one more beer. Honest.” She dangled the empty in front of me again. “Come on. One more.” She smiled, and my heart stuttered. “I promise I won’t get too wild on you.”

I wasn’t worried about her getting wild; I was worried about me getting wild. Definitely time for me to switch to water. I could hold my liquor, but I wanted to make sure she’d be all right for the rest of the night, which might be more difficult if I kept drinking.

“All right...one more beer coming up. Then it’s off to bed with you, little miss.” I couldn’t miss the widening of her eyes and the breath she gulped at the mention of bed. “By yourself, I promise.” I couldn’t help the words that barely qualified as a whisper: “This time, at least.”

After grabbing one more beer for her and my bottle of water, I headed back to the couch and sat next to her. “So, how often do you hang out at Jake’s? It seemed like you knew my brother a bit there, at least enough that he wanted to make sure you got to your car okay.”

“Jake? Yeah, we’ve—that’s me and Wendy—have been coming to Jake’s for a while now. She found it first, and then decided we should make it our regular spot. Jake’s been a great guy—always keeping his eye out for any morons, like the guy tonight. It doesn’t happen often, but he’s been known to throw some people out before they even get a foot in the door. He worked hard to change the atmosphere at the bar. It used to be a real bloodbath kind of place until he took over.”

“And you know this how? Hanging out at all the biker bars now, huh?” I’d known Jake had turned the former pit of a bar into something decent, where anyone could cool off with a drink and good food, but to hear it from someone else was nice.

“Hey, bikers are people, too, you know.” Her bluster was accompanied by a big smile, so I was pretty sure she was teasing me. “But no, I’m not exactly a fixture at biker bars. Hell, I’m not sure I’ve ever been to a biker bar. But Jake’s is a nice place. Despite what some people think.” Her smile turned into a frown.

“What’s that mean? Who doesn’t like Jake’s?”

She seemed lost in her thoughts. “Hhmm? Well, let’s see...my father, for one.” Her voice lowered. “‘Young lady, that is not an appropriate place for you to be spending time. You are more than welcome to have a drink at the club with me and Mark.’” She cleared her throat. “My father’s a bit...opinionated. And stubborn. And looking to run my life.” Cora grabbed the bottle and took a long pull. “As if I’m five still, and only he knows what’s best for me,” she muttered.

It was difficult to not hear the bitter hurt in her voice. But there was the other thing that caught my ear, too—Mark. Who the fuck was Mark? Did she have a brother? Please, dear God, let it be a brother or something and not a boyfriend. I took a quick look at her hands, just to double-check. Please, not a husband or a fiancé. Mark had to be a family member. It’d be the only way I’d stay sane. To meet Cora and fall under her spell...and then have to keep away because she was already taken? Fate, for all its cruel ways, surely wouldn’t do that to me on top of everything else.

“And Mark. He’s just as bad. ‘Cora, join us for a nightcap.’ He just wants me to sit there, like a porcelain doll—looking pretty and without a thought or ambition of my own. Don’t speak unless spoken to—and nobody speaks to me. They want a bobblehead, someone to agree with every witty, smart, genius thing that comes out of their mouths.” Her mumbling took on a life of its own, growing from a faint murmur to a pissed-off, ready to rumble, damnation oration.

And I sensed there was more where that came from. I was about to ask more about Mark, but she took another gulp from the bottle—God, that really was going to be a favorite image in my head from now on—and then she kept on going.

“Those ass-clowns wouldn’t know an intelligent idea if it grabbed them by the balls and squeezed them until they were blue in the face. If they’d only listen to me, they’d see I have more to offer than just a pretty face or a family name to carry on. But nooo....” Her volume drifted off and mumblings took over.

I couldn’t make out what she was talking about, but it was something that got her going. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that frustration—whether she was drunk or sober. Time to take the bottle away. I reached out to grab it out of her hand. Not too surprisingly, it was empty.

“All right. Let’s get you settled for bed. Need to use the restroom first? I might have an extra toothbrush somewhere in there, too.” I reached for her hand, ready to pull her up and get her back in my arms. It’d been too long since I’d been able to sneak a feel of her, and I was itching to touch that flawless skin again, even if it was for the four steps to the bathroom.

Cora stood, keeping her weight off her left leg. She looked around awkwardly. “I can hop my way over there.” As she lifted her foot completely off the floor, she wobbled.

I quickly got my arms around her waist. “Yeah, I don’t think so. You’re getting the royal treatment, my lady...an escort until your ankle is better and you can stand on your own two feet without falling over.” I was close enough to breathe in the scent of her. It reminded me of spring...fresh-cut grass, flowers ready to bloom, and sunshine warming the laundry on the line. Full of promise.

After offering my arm to act as her crutch as she balanced, we made a hop-skip-jump shuffle to the bathroom. It was a tiny space, with a toilet, a small pedestal sink, and a narrow shower. I rifled through the medicine cabinet again, this time looking for a spare toothbrush and the toothpaste, and grabbed the clean washcloth and hand towel off the wall rack. “Here. Brush your teeth and wash your face before you hit the hay.”

“Ummm...I need some privacy.” She had a funny look on her face.

“To brush your teeth? Seriously, I’ve seen teeth before. You can trust I’ll be quite the gentlem—” I stopped when her gaze darted around. “Oh, right. Not to brush...those three beers are catching up with you. Well, be careful on that ankle.” Trying not to laugh or embarrass her further, I stepped out of the bathroom, closed the door, and made my way to the kitchenette sink to rinse out the bottles...and give her a curtain of noise to cover up any of her activities.

After a minute, the toilet flushed and then the faucet turned on. It didn’t take long for her to wash up and open the door.

“Dixon, I’m not feeling good. I think I’m ready for that bed now.” She stood—well, slumped would be a better description—in the doorframe of the bathroom, looking a bit out of sorts.

“Well, let’s get you taken care of.” God knew I wanted to take care of all her needs, but it looked like all that was on tap for her tonight was a bottle of water and more aspirin—for both her ankle and the headache she was sure to have in the morning—and a cold shower for me.

I put my arm around her back to guide her and took the few steps to the bedroom. “The light switch is right there.” I nodded in the right direction and she reached out to flick the light on. It wasn’t much, but the full-size bed had clean sheets and a comforter. A lamp on the nightstand acted as more of a nightlight than an actual light source.

I set her gently on the bed, fluffed up the pillow, and pulled down the covers for her. Kneeling, I reached down to take off her shoes, first the right and then the left. On the left, I brushed over the ankle to check the swelling. Okay, and to feel that soft skin one more time. I lifted her legs up and tucked them under the covers. “Well, it seems to be improving. You hardly flinched this time when I touched it. I bet a night of rest will have you right as rain.” I’m not sure how I did it, but I controlled my urge to run my hands up her legs, up into the promised land under that dress.

“Make sure you take another sip or two of the water before you fall asleep. And if you wake up in the middle of the night, take the extra aspirins. It’ll help. Trust me.”

“Sir, yes sir,” she mumbled, settling into the covers. A slow smile spread over her face. “So what Cub Scout badge do you earn for putting damsels in distress to bed?”

“Well, Cub Scouts don’t earn badges like Boy Scouts, but their motto is—” A light snore stopped me. I whispered the rest: “Do Your Best!”

I couldn’t seem to stop looking at her, sleeping in my bed. That pull from earlier, when I first saw her in the bar, kept getting stronger. I couldn’t get enough of Cora, and whatever she was willing to give me. I started to wonder what my best would look like—what life with Cora in it would be like.