Page 18 of Something to Talk About

“One.” A slim finger goes up. “There’s no way you can wear that without giving the neighbors a surprise of a lifetime, especially the ones across the street who sit under their tree day in and day out.” She has a point. “Two, I’m wearing your clothes. Tongues are going to be wagging.”

“Let ‘em talk, gorgeous. What could they have to say anyways? We’re both consenting adults, neither of us are married, and it’s not anyone’s concern. That being said, I’ll change my clothes, but you’re keeping mine on, and tonight, when you’re alone in bed, at least you’ll have me wrapped around you in some sort of way.” I watch as she mulls things over in her head. She sucks on her bottom lip, and I’m tempted to use my thumb to pull it out. Except then we’d never leave this room. We could both essentially lose our job, and we’d be shit out of luck.

“You’re right. I know you’re right. Still, the last thing I want is people talking about the new girl in town.” They’re already talking. She just hasn’t realized it yet, and I am not bringing that topic up.

“I am, and they won’t talk. Hell, the only people who areup at this time of day are probably out the door taking their kids to school,” I counter. Lennon starts smoothing her hair down, a habit I’m noticing when she’s either nervous or waging a war within herself.

“Fine, but you’re wearing a shirt. Preferably one to cover up that.” She points from my chest to my cock.

“Message received loud and clear.” I leave her in the middle of my bedroom and walk toward the dresser, riffling through the contents until I land on one, then pull it over my head. “Good?” I ask.

“Yes, thank you.” She’s staking a claim on me, whether she knows it or not.

“Never a problem, gorgeous. Never.” We walk through the house, her fingers laced with mine. I grab her keys off the counter, and she slips her feet into a pair of flip flops she wore over last night. I do the same, except mine are slides, and we head over to her place so she can start her day. Lennon doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll be staying until she leaves for work. I’ve got more than enough time, and I want to enjoy every last minute with her.

14

LENNIE

“Itold you,” Momma Catherine says. We’re on a FaceTime call along with Minnie, who is sitting down, jaw slack with a look of wonderment in her eyes. This happened after I told them about Asher, the beginning, the middle, and the end. Meaning from the time I had a small meltdown, how I basically babbled about inconsequential shit, yet he made me realize it’s not small, it’s big, and he’d be there every step of the way. I even made sure to let them know I spent the night at his house, minus the whole getting off in the pool bit. There are some things family does not need to know. Though, I’m sure my sister is filling in the blanks.

“Lennie, are you sure it’s you inside the screen?” Minnie teases me. I really hope Clay isn’t around, or the rest of the Johnson family for that matter.

“It’s me, present and accounted for.” I’m lying in bedafter working another long day at the office. The job isn’t grueling, and the people are really nice to work with. It’s me getting adjusted to all the newness while trying not to make mistake after mistake.

“I’m happy for our girl,” Momma Catherine interjects. I’d say she’d try and take the trophy for setting Asher and me up, except I think Poppa Russell would have something to say about that.

“I am, too, because let’s be honest here for a minute. The man whose name we shall not speak wasn’t a true husband, Lennie.” She’s not wrong. It’s taken me a while to sort through the pieces, and while I may have loved him with all my heart at one point, my therapist helped me realize I was chasing after a dream of the life I wished I had when I was younger, even if that meant choosing the most emotionally unavailable man there ever could be. I fell in love with Zach young, figuring we’d grow up together, live a happy life, and have a couple of children along the way. Everything was great up until that last part. We tried and tried, yet nothing happened. He blamed me. Hereallyblamed me. I allowed him to because I already felt like a failure with a lot of things, and this just added to the mix.

“You’re absolutely right,” I respond. My therapy session after work today gave me a lot of clarity. More than I expected. I also opened up more, accepted more than she’s ever said. I’m not sure the reasoning behind all of it. I’ll pick it apart later. I’m pretty certain it has something to do with a handsome firefighter who isn’t afraid to show affection any time day or night.

“Okay, Momma Catherine, this is your cue to question her. I’m at an utter loss of words.” Minnie is still sitting there, chin propped up on the palm of her hand, looking shocked.

“I’m not questioning this. Are you crazy?” she answers. They’re still on their way back home, taking the long way and stopping even more than Minnie did when she headed out to set off on her journey.

“I’m not,” I say with a smile on my face. I’m finding I’m doing that a whole lot more these days, too.

“Well, no, we better not,” Minnie agrees. A notification pops up while we’re chatting away.

“Hold on, guys, Asher is texting me.” They continue talking, Minnie mostly asking about where their next stop will be and where they should go that she absolutely loved. I’m pretty sure they’ve taken completely different routes, but I know that won’t stop the Johnsons from detouring.

While I slide out of the group call, the screen goes dark on their side, and they can’t see the goofy grin I’m sure is spread across my face as I click on the notification.

Asher: Back at the station. Thinking it’s going to be a long night with the calls we’ve been getting today.

He’s texted me here and there throughout the day, asking how my day was going, making sure I made it home from work. In between we’d ask each other questions. The basics, like favorite meals, hobbies, and the likes. Asher is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, preferring grilled ribeye, baked potatoes, and can go for a wedge salad, too. His hobby ismore or less either working at the fire station or with Jagged Edge Builders, and he unwinds with his friends. All nine of them together. My eyes about popped out of their sockets when I read that text on my break. I’m the complete opposite, preferring the solitude of a few friends, a habit from my past. I didn’t have time for friendships, was too busy working and raising my sister, and when I was married, I worked, came home, and spent time with Zach, or tried to, at least. Somewhere along the way, I lost bits and pieces of myself. I told him my favorite meal as well, preferring soup, like baked potato, broccoli cheddar, chicken noodle, any and all with a thick grilled cheese sandwich on the side. My hobby being reading, but I really want to start doing something else as well. Maybe knitting or embroidery. That was the end of our discussion seeing as I got a one-word response:call.

Me: Is it always this busy?

Asher: Yeah, we’ve been helping the other stations further out. It’s been a bitch. You make it home alright?

Me: Yeah, currently in bed, talking to Minnie and Catherine.

He doesn’t answer right away, probably settling in for some downtime, so I go back to the video call.

“About time. Geesh.” Minnie laughs.

“Leave the poor girl alone. I’m pretty sure you had uninterrupted time in your new relationship.” Catherine winks. I don’t think snow will help our case here in Florida. It’s goingto be up to us to figure things out between his schedule and mine.

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