Page 40 of Spike

“Borderingnothing,” she said. “For a lot of people in my dad’s church, they’d want bothmeand himrun out on a rail if they ever heard me talk like that.”

“Seriously?”

“You reallyhaven’t been around religious people, have you?”

“Only atLakewood,” I admitted. “There were a couple of younger guys that would comearound and talk to us. Guys that were like us when they were younger but had‘found’ Jesus and were looking to pass on whatever it was they found. I don’tknow, it was always kind of vague and confusing to me.”

“How so?”

“They’d talk to usabout turning our lives over to Jesus, which never made any kind of sense tome.”

“What are the twoof you whispering about over there?” Trixie’s mother demanded.

“We’re talkingabout what it means to give your heart to Jesus, mother,” Trixie retorted.

“I don’t know whyevery question I ask has to be answered with a smart alec remark,” she hissed.“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

“I can’t win,”Trixie whispered in exasperation.

Her fatherreturned, handing me a can of Fresca. “You know, scripture tells us in Ephesianschapter five, verse eighteen: ‘Do not get drunk on wine, which leads todebauchery.’ It’s why we have a sober house.”

Trixie spun awayfrom her father, fighting back a laugh.

I held my can upto him in a toast. “To the sisterhood of the temperance movement.”

Her dad lookedbewildered as he said, “Praise the Lord,” before making his way into thekitchen.

I took a sip ofthe soda and grimaced. “I think offering anyone a Fresca should be a sin.”

Trixie grinned.“It is… in the lesser-known book of Libations, chapter one, verse six.”

I raised aneyebrow. “The book of Libations?”

She nodded. “Italso warns those who thirst of the evils of Monster energy drink and WhiteClaw.”

I grinned, slidingmy hand to her lower back, wanting to kiss her so badly, I debated taking herinto the powder room and fucking her on the floor. I didn’t even care if herparents caught us. Maybe they could learn a few things. I doubted they’d fuckedsince the Bush administration, if they ever did more than the three times toget their kids.

“Stop looking atme like that, Wonka,” Trixie hiss-pered. “My parents will notice.”

“So?”

“They’ll ban mefrom seeing you if you keep looking like you want to eat me.”

I leaned forwardand whispered, “Idowant to eat you.”

She blushed anddropped her head. “Well, you need to control yourself or we’ll both be introuble.”

I laughed. “Nopromises.”

“Dinner’s ready,”Sherri announced, and I followed Trixie to the dining room table.

** *

Trixie

We moved into thedining room and took our seats. My parents, per usual, sat at the opposite endsof the long table, and Spike and I sat next to each other.

“You have abeautiful home, Mrs. Mitchell,” Spike said.

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