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  “Dad, you just moved here. How can you know her well enough to let her come in here and help herself as she pleases?”

  “Emma, I am the dad here. You forget sometimes.” My tone is playfully stern. “But if you have to know, there is something about this woman. It may sound cliché but I would like to see where this can go.” I don’t owe her an explanation, but she may act better with one. At least, I can hope.

  “I walked in and she’s having a shot of your expensive whisky and it’s not even noon.”

  “Well, good, I’m glad. She had a bad dream, so awful I had to wake her up. She apparently needs to calm her nerves.”

  “She slept here?” Her eyes bug out, as though they are about to pop from her sockets.

  “Look outside, my dear. Do you think she can sleep over there? Tyler, am I going to get any help from you, son?”

  “Well, babe, she’s an attractive lady. Your dad has needs.”

  Clearing my throat, I laugh. “Son, that is not really what I was talking about.” I can’t fault Ty. He obviously has great taste in women, he married my daughter after all, but Tyler adds humor to all situations. Looking at Emma, her hands are now firmly placed on her hips, trying to show authority in this relationship. “Listen, Ems, you have always been a grade-A bitch to every woman I have dated. I ask you to cut this woman some slack. I can tell she’s different, and if I'm being honest, I think she might give you a run for your money in the bitch department.” Most may fault me for referring to my daughter as a bitch but it is more a fact than a put down.

  “Is that possible?” Tyler asks.

  Emma looks from side to side as if she’s at a tennis match. Finally throwing in the towel to this argument, she looks at us. “You both are assholes, but I’m stuck with you,” she grumbles, turning to Tyler. “Let’s go.” Being the strong-minded girl I am so proud of, she stomps away without another word to me.

  As they walk out, Tyler looks back at me, gives me two thumbs up, and shouts enthusiastically, “Way to go, Nick!”

  After my daughter’s rude departure, I call to Justine, “All clear out here, Justine, but you probably know this already.” Knocking on the door, I yell louder and say, “Justine, I know you heard us. Can I come in?”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about and no, give me just a couple of minutes,” she says.

  A half an hour later, she has a little smile on her face, passing through the doorway into the living room. I am still wrapped in the towel, sitting where Emma left me, looking at my phone.

  “Did your daughter calm down finally?” she asks.

  My clipped tone has to convey my thoughts more than my words but I continue to explain. “Oh, you got a quick lesson in the world of my daughter. She is a handful, let’s just put it that way. I know you weren’t in the shower, by the way.”

  “I have to say, I’m glad to know your son-in-law finds me attractive; it will make family dinners more entertaining.” She leans in close to me and her smell is intoxicating. It is hard to believe this is the same woman I had to coax to join me for dinner last night.

  “Well, he’s human and has eyes,” I say, leaning in to touch her hand. “However, it takes a special guy to tame my Emma, and I knew he was the man for the job. Tyler is loyal to a fault.”

  “You think I can be a bigger bitch than her?” she asks, placing her hand on my chest.

  “Well, I don’t mean anything derogatory by that statement.” I tilt my head toward her, having a great view of her face and also the V of her top.

  “I didn’t take it in a bad way,” she assures me.

  Leaning closer into her, I realize something important as I laugh. “I really need to go change or this towel is going to come off of me very quickly. You being this close while I’m almost naked is not boding well for me. Well, actually it is. . .”

  “All right, go get gussied up,” she says, giving me a peck on the cheek.

  “I don’t want to,” I say, taking one last look at her cleavage as the towel takes on a different form. Her features only add to the attraction which is obvious between us. She leans down, having to notice as I sneak away quickly, only turning around with a wink toward her. Boy, this woman is certainly turning me on.

  I study myself nervously in the mirror. Over the years, I have dated a lot, trying to find the right woman to settle down with. None have been right for me, so I’ve always assumed I’m meant to be alone. I sense the right woman is now in the other room and I am afraid I will mess it up.

  In Justine, I see a glimmer of hope. My conversation with Emma certainly weighs on my mind. Justine and Emma are alike in many ways. I am a bit worried my daughter might run this lady off. Justine doesn’t seem to be phased by anyone or anything. It is refreshing. Not every woman can handle my Emma.

  I realize I am being ridiculous, but it doesn’t calm my nerves. I steady myself and join her again, reaching for her hand as I guide her out of the house.

  When we leave, Justine informs me, “I am about to blow your mind.”

  Amused by her choice of words, I raise one eyebrow. “Should we return home then?” I ask. I can’t help but endlessly flirt with her. I have so much more I can say, but I don’t.

  Ignoring me, she gives me directions. We seem to end up in what appears to be a fast food restaurant. She can’t know I despise fast food. I arch my brow, verbally questioning her choice. “What is this place?” I ask.

  “Normally I don’t eat like this, but this is a tried and true favorite. Here, I’ll order for you—you have got to get the Papa Joe.” She has not convinced me but is determined as she continues, “Hey, I slept at a stranger’s house this morning and trusted you, so you can trust me on this. And I will introduce you to the best tartar sauce you will ever have,” she insists.

  “I don't understand the name for it—Zits?” I tease.

  “It’s Zip’s!” She is very animated and I love seeing her smile. It lights up her whole face.

  Placing my arm around her as we approach the person behind the cash register, I say, “Oh, all right, that makes more sense.”

  When we sit down, we joke and talk while I stuff my face. Every so often, I feel her leg brush up against mine under the table. I take this opportunity to feel the closeness of her against me. After lunch, I admit, “This wasn’t half bad, Justine.” When we had pulled up to this place with the funny name, I thought it would take a miracle to pull off, but it seems like everything about Justine is a miracle.

  “See, I will open your eyes to broader horizons,” she teases.

  Before I can joke about the hard and broadened horizons I could show her, I am startled by someone’s voice. “Justine!” I look up to see an attractive woman with a heavier build and dark short hair staring at both of us.

  “Lore, hey there.” Justine stands to embrace the woman.

  This person in front of Justine is someone important to her by the way she stands up instantly and embraces her, smiling to see her. I am happy to see a little bit more of the woman who is quickly capturing my heart.

  6

  Justine

  I look up into my dear friend’s face and see the girl I have spent most of my life building memories with. In all honesty, she is the only one who knows how to handle me when I am mad, sad, or just fucking pissed off. It has been a month since I have seen her or loved on her sweet children. I miss the hell out of her but for right now, we skirt over this issue in front of Nick, but I won’t let it go long without addressing how fucking much I have missed her. “Let me introduce you to Nick. He’s just moved in next door to me.”

  “Hi, Nick. Glad to see those jackasses finally sold their house,” she says, seriously.

  “Lorelei didn’t like my old neighbors either,” I joke. “You want to have a seat?”

  “I can’t. I just came in to get a burger for Ryan. He has Matthew and Marcus at soccer. Madeline’s with Hils. These Saturdays are killing me.” Lorelei is the perfect mom. Soccer, football, music, karate. Just th
e list of her kids’ activities tires me. “Well, I just wanted to say hi. Nice meeting you, Nick.” She imparts a small smile my way.

  “Nick, I’ll be right back,” I promise, following Lorelei to her car.

  As I run after her, I think of when she became a vital part of my family and it is the worst memory I have to date.

  I went to pick up Lore when I had just got my license. Doug, Lorelei’s father, was home and I knocked on her front door several times. I was about to leave when I heard sounds of distress coming from inside and when I tried the door, it was unlocked. Planning to dash to the phone quickly to call 911, my plans were changed when I heard Lore was in trouble. Finding a large knife, I ran to her room, thinking I would stab a stranger, saving her from some random burglar and her dad would be dead, the only reason someone would be hurting Lore. What I found was worse. I walked into the room and I could never fully describe what was in front of me. Sickness fell all over my body when I was witness to a crime, one involving Lore’s dad hurting her in the worst way possible. Lore was still, laying on her bed looking at me, with tears running down her face. Keeping the knife in one hand, I grabbed a lamp and struck Doug Oliver in the head, collecting Lore. After getting Lore to safety back at my home, the shit hit the fan.

  Lore never returned to that house and lived with us the rest of her time in high school. My parents took on the role of caregivers and guardians to avoid her going to foster care. They loved her as much as they loved my brother and me. She was forever from that point a staple in our family.

  Still trying to catch her as she walks to the parking lot, I find myself loudly attempting to get her attention over the sound of the cars whipping down Division Avenue. “Lore, do you have a second?” I ask, leaning against the Mother Mobile, my nickname for her mini-van.

  “Oh, sure, Tine, what’s up?” This has always been my nickname, and it makes me feel better connected to my estranged friend when this one small personal detail from our past comes out of Lorelei’s mouth.

  “I miss you, I hope you know.”

  “Lord, Tine, I effing miss you, too.” I internally laugh because it’s just like my quirky friend to use a slang word for fuck.

  Taking my fingers and twirling them in my hair, I ask, “Are you going to tell me why you stopped communicating with me?” I ask with one eyebrow raised. It is more than Lorelei’s busy schedule.

  “I can’t go into it right now,” Lorelei diverts, looking at her watch.

  I don’t have to guess. Her asshole husband and I mix as well as water and oil.

  “Okay, just know I’m here for you. Call me. Maybe you can come over for wine one night.” I say.

  “I will try.” She gives me a hug. As I turn away, she asks, “So what’s up with your neighbor?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I guess you’ll have to call me and find out.” I glance over my shoulder. “Lore, I love you! I hope you know that.”

  “Same here, Tine,” Lore replies.

  Her husband is controlling and manipulative, which creates a rage which drives me to insanity. The final straw for me is how Ryan belittles Lorelei over the extra thirty pounds she gained while pregnant with Madeline. I want to protect her like I always have, ever since the day I walked in on her father molesting her. After moving her into my home, our relationship evolved from best friends to sisters. To be without her would be as if I lost a limb.

  Walking back in, Nick’s eyes sparkle when he sees me. “Everything okay?” Nick asks when I sit down at the table.

  “Her jackass of a husband doesn’t like me. I’m pretty sure he’s forced her to steer clear of our relationship. It’s none of my business. Her marriage is hers, but it just makes me sad.”

  “You take care of your friends; it is a good quality to have,” Nick says, popping the last French fry into his mouth.

  “Thanks, but I sure do miss her. I hope her sons stay sweet and don’t turn out to be jerks like Ryan Dean.” I finish the last bite of my burger. “But enough of this topic now. I am going to introduce you to one of my favorite landmarks in all of Spokane: Riverfront Park.”

  It is a chilly day when we get to our destination, but we huddle up in a blanket I brought along as we talk for a while. The chemistry between us becomes stronger than a bright star on a clear night. While we continue to share parts of each other’s lives, his hand is never off of me. He seems to need to be touching some part of my body, normally my knee or upper thigh. As his hand snakes up a little bit higher each couple of minutes, my breath stills as all I can do is concentrate on where I really want him to be touching me. Every once in a while, he reaches over and takes my head, drawing it closer to his. When he does, I love the connection we make, almost always with our mouths, but also emotionally.

  He speaks at length of Emma’s mother. They had attended veterinary school together in order to keep Emma close to them. Every choice they made was for Emma. Even when Annette got remarried, she made sure Nick would be willing to move to Sacramento for their daughter. It is obvious his daughter is his whole world, especially when he said she would be his only child and he wanted to experience everything with her.

  When I ask him about his life, he says, “My parents died when I was sixteen. After their deaths, I was hopeless. I would have been placed in the foster care system if not for the generosity of Annette’s parents, who accepted me as their own. Shortly after, she became pregnant. Annette’s parents took the pregnancy in stride and understood that Annie’s and my mistake resulted in something truly wonderful. They sat down with Annette and myself, insisting both of us finish school. Their offer to help was received with my gratitude and I, still to this day, consider Lois and Lyle Winters my other set of parents.” I imagine these words are hard to speak, as they would be for me if I had experienced a loss so early in life. In the few paragraphs he uses to describe the hell he has undergone, he reveals a tender side of himself which fills me with a desire to know him better.

  Nick brings up my divorce, a pain that still aches because I don’t like failing at anything. Though, socially, Rafe and I run the same circles, it is hard at times. The only thing I decide to share is one thing I have sought never to know. “I suspect Rafe was stepping out on me with Hils. I chose not to pursue the truth, because it would have undone me.”

  The only thing he says as he places my hair behind my cheek is, “If he was, he is the stupidest mother fucker alive.” He is serious and I love what he says to me, but at the same time I can’t help but giggle because he is now speaking my love language.

  In the car on our way home, Nick reaches for my hand in his. “I had a good time with you today, Justine.”

  “I did, too.”

  “I am going to tell you now, it will be hard to let you out of my sight tonight. I don’t think this is a fling at all. I can barely keep my hands off you,” he says, keeping one hand on the wheel while exploring the leg closest to him with the other hand.

  I want to feel him inside of me tonight, yet I am scared as hell. Every relationship is in the shitter, and I can’t take one more person abandoning me.

  When I don’t answer him, he asks, “Maybe I am misreading the signals?”

  “No, Nick. That’s not it. I can imagine you and me together sexually, but I suck at relationships. I’m great at sex. My focus is probably too much on sex and not enough on the stuff that makes a relationship jive.”

  “I don’t think I have ever heard another woman say this before, but somehow, knowing you at this point, I can see this.”

  “I don’t want you to think I’m this woman who’s going to be able to go deep with you, though I want to, but every important relationship I have is just shit right now.”

  “I think you are too tough on yourself, Justine.” He tenderly caresses my cheek as his eyes meet mine.

  “You don’t know me well enough,” I try to clarify.

  He pulls over in a parking lot, turning down his radio and focuses on me as my heart stammers, reading into what is coming. H
e leans in and whispers, “Let me get to know you then.”

  When I try to kiss him deeply, my fucking seat belt stops me. Unbuckling it, I quickly lean over to kiss him, deeply and passionately. I work my tongue in and out of the grooves of his mouth with such fervor, my body’s reflexes take over. I suddenly feel a sensation along with complete wetness at my core. These are parts of my body throughout the years I feared had become dormant yet—hello—Nick has re-awakened them. There is something in particular about this man I want—no, need.

  “I said we could go slow,” he whispers.

  “I know. I think we should go straight home, though.” My need to feel him, in every part of my body, is met with a feral and rapid demand, and I am willing to throw caution to the wind.

  We both adjust in our seats as our hands attack the other. My heart rate is quickened, and I can’t seem to get close enough to him with this fucking console blocking us; this makes my body feel needy with desire.

  He pulls back and gives me a sheepish smile as he rakes his hand through my hair. “You may think I am the most stupid man for what I am about to say,” he starts, “but I don’t want to rush into sex. I don’t want to mess this up with you, and you are just too special to treat like a roll in the hay. I think I could have some serious feelings, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

  Sitting here for a second, I try to formulate my response and need a little bit longer to find the correct words. I fucking need to feel him inside of me, though there is something respectable about what he has said to me.

  “Are you upset?” he asks.

  “No, I can respect that.” Taking in a deep breath, I try to redirect my thoughts, though it takes a lot of pressure off me. “All right, so we’re having steaks for dinner then,” I quip casually. “There’s a supermarket there.”