Page 33 of Until Landon
“Kiss me again and I’ll tell you for sure.”
As lips touch and the current of passion spreads, a solid cheese fart sounds in the direction of Ronnie Podesta. Like a prelude to a song, it goes on longer than expected. Eventually it stirs the man.
“Who said that?” he mutters, still inside a dream.
Tears of laughter fall from her eyes and mine. Death by gas just as I was about to touch her. This isn’t the right time, but it will be soon. I am going to make sure it happens.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Kim
I love how he looks at me. There is longing and a quiet anticipation of what he is hoping happens. I know it because I feel the same way. Each day here atCasa Hope It’s Grandeconsists mostly of Landon and I checking each other out. Scanning the smallest details. Whenever he is here, in between the cooking and conversations, the medications and the dog details, we search for each other’s face. Bodies ache to be touched. Well, mine aches. And that’s enough for the both of us.
Sex with him is all I think about, which could be a problem. There is a chance I am building it up too much and the poor man will never be able to live up to the fantasies. A little piece of me finds the possibility ridiculous. You can’t be that sexy and not know how to use it. I am happy to be long past the virgin in headlights stage. I much prefer the man who understands a woman’s body like I remember knowing a man’s. I am betting he does.
Tonight will be the first overnighter in the guest room. It has been all days so far. Good thing Landon had a few nights off from the bar, to prepare my room and for Ronnie to become accustomed to the new routine. It gave me time to line up my ducks too.
Frank stepped up his game and held down the fort. But he warned nobody should get used to it. Wes and friends helped too. They have interviewed two possible new hires already. Finding the right person is proving more difficult than expected. Tonight Landon has to be there for his pick’s trial run. Fingers crossed. It is a young girl, so maybe she can be molded to his liking. According to Landon and his father who never met them, the other bartenders had their own wrong ideas. Ronnie is resistant to change. Period.
My two week job is brand new, but the fit is good. I feel needed and valued for what I have to contribute to the healing. Ronnie likes having me here, I can tell. Maybe it is the estrogen presence among all the testosterone. Or because his physical therapist is a raging jerk. It is not just my opinion. The patient hates him more than I do.
We have bonded over our mutual distaste for a man with little social graces or bedside manner. There is no kindness in the application of his art. The patient’s pain isn’t really a big consideration. I guess technically he is on target, but there is so much more to taking an injured person from couch or wheelchair to an upright position. To walking unaided. They must believe it will happen and trust you’re not going to hurt them. It requires a little magic. PT Shane has no tricks up his sleeve.
Today will be better because I’m here to watch the entire session. Entering the living room, I greet my roommates.
“Morning, happy campers! Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakee.”
Only Ronnie is smiling. Landon wears a pissed expression as he puts on his shoes.
“It is a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ronnie takes a big bite of an apple fritter.
“He fired Shane. So we are back to square one basically.”
My head turns to my charge and I give him a half smile. Not expected by either man.
“See! I told you she would think it’s a good idea. The guy was an asshole to me and you shouldn’t want that for your father. Mornin’ darlin’.”
Oh shit. Father and son pissing contest has already started. Let’s get ready to rumble.
Landon stands. “What I want is for you to have the best outcome. And that was a fucked up thing to say to me.”
What do I do? I cannot take either side. Ronnie did the right thing in my opinion. But said it wrong. I know how to show Landon I am on his side as well. I walk up to Ronnie and put out my hand.
“What the hell are you doing eating that? Give it here.”
For a second his face looks like a kid’s. It is a spit your gum out in my hand kind of thing. I am taking a chance, but it is the only play. I need to distract them both. He reluctantly drops the fritter in my hand.
“Make up your mind. Fruit is good you said.”
“Not surrounded in fried dough and sugar. Who’re you kidding?”
For the first time since I walked in, Landon is smiling.
“Pretty sure I said the exact same thing five minutes ago.”
Ronnie answers with a stink eye focused on his son.
“I’m going to make you a good breakfast,” I say to the bear.
