Page 100 of Just (Fake) Married
I only ever took oneand a half days off a week. Sunday, the store was closed, and Wednesday morning my mom came in and worked a shift behind the register.
Usually, those were days I got other shit done, but since I’d moved out of the old house and into the Swinging D, I’d felt like I was removed from my life. My laundry was done. My meals were cooked. The house was cleaned.
With nothing really to do, and desperately needing to get away from my over active libido which flared up anytime Ethan crossed my mind, I decided I’d tackle the rooms above the store.
We’d been using the four rooms up here, the galley kitchen, living room, bathroom and good-sized bedroom as an extra attic for years.
There was so much stuff up here, it was overwhelming.
Worse. It was apparent the three gigantic garbage bags I’d brought were woefully inadequate.
“Hey,” a voice said. Jenny jumped up and so did Bruce.
Had I conjured him? And if I had, how did I make him go away?
I told myself every night I didn’t go to his room how strong willed I was. How badass I was that I could have a little fun, then walk away. Like I could take it or leave it.
But every night, as I lay in bed, I had to admit Ireallywanted to take it.
Again and again and again.
“Over here,” I said, hoping my voice sounded casual.
“I brought you a refill,” he said, walking into the galley kitchen. He carried a travel mug of coffee and a water bottle.
“I try not to drink any after noon,” I said. “But thank you.”
“Okay,” he said, and took a sip of the coffee. Somehow, that was even too intimate. Him drinking the coffee he’d made for me. “Water, then.” He set the water bottle on the kitchen counter. Jenny and Bruce made their way over to him and the asshole pulled a liver treat for Jenny from his jeans pocket.
She, of course, went bonkers, tail wagging. Nose sniffing. Facing him like she could see him. Bruce, for her part, was pecking at the knee of his jeans again, her little sign of affection.
Great. Even my animals were feeling the intimacy.
“What are you doing here?” I said, proud of myself for sounding casual.
The box I’d opened was full of to-go coffee cupss from the café. Cups I would bet one million dollars my sister had forgotten were here. I closed the box and carried it over to an empty space by the kitchen door. That would be Amity’s stack.
He shrugged. “Just stopped in to say hey and your mom said you were here. I thought I could help you clean out some of this stuff.”
“You don’t have to,” I said quickly. Spending even more time with Ethan McGraw was not a solution to my problem. Especially when he was being nice.
I opened another box and it was full of cocktail napkins stamped with The Last Stand. Perfect. I put the box next to the other one.
Bliss’s pile.
He grabbed my elbow and my momentum turned me towards him. I bumped into his body before stepping back.
“Hey I don’t want us to be awkward,” he said. “Around each other. I’m thinking maybe we should have talked more…after.”
“After what?” I asked, being intentionally obtuse.
“You know.” And then to my horror, he re-enacted the finger gun moment I’d left him with that night.
Immediately, I reached for his hands to make him stop doing that motion.
He chuckled and I glared at him.
“I’m not the smoothest when it comes to…” my voice trailed off.
