Four

“IS THAT HER—” Treasure cut herself off. “You promised me you’d invite me over for the next show, but wowza, I didn’t think it’d be this dirty. Now he’s using his tongue to—”

Melanie interrupted Treasure from saying it aloud. “I can’t watch anymore.” Melanie shut her eyes and turned from the window.

Her best friend, Treasure Vogle, hooted—or maybe it was more of a snorting guffaw—with laughter at Melanie’s neighbor and his girlfriend getting naked and obscene on the back deck of the house next door.

“Shh… They’re going to hear you,” Melanie said.

Treasure snorted for real this time. “Not hardly. I think they’re a bit distracted at the moment.”

With a one-eyed drunken squint, Melanie peered at Treasure. Embarrassment burned her already flush cheeks. Unblinking fascination held Treasure’s gaze steady on the window and the scene playing out behind Braden’s house. A silly smile tickled the corner of Treasure’s lips and hilarity twinkled in her eyes. Treasure had fewer reserves about spying on the neighbors than Melanie. She couldn’t believe she witnessed the spectacle happening next door the first time she accidentally saw the x-rated show. When Melanie had called Treasure to let her know it was happening again, she almost couldn’t say the words aloud. Treasure arrived on her doorstep five minutes later, a bottle of liquor in one hand and Coke in the other. Treasure wanted to celebrate the sale of one of her motorcycles with Melanie—and take in a show.

“And I thought I liked to get freaky,” Treasure said, her eyes widening. “I never thought nipple rings could be used as a cock tease.” The expression on Treasure’s face darkened to mild repulsion mixed with fascination.

Melanie shuddered at the thought of Alana’s body piercings, and what Braden may or may not be doing with them. “Don’t tell me,” she said. “I’ve probably already seen that move.” The Jim Beam and Coke she drank with Treasure a half hour earlier still burned in the back of her throat and threatened to rise up her gullet.

“Whoo—” Treasure whistled low under her breath and brushed her hair away from her face. “That’s a picture I won't forget.” She turned to the side table and poured another shot of bourbon into her glass. “Want another drink?” Treasure waved the tumbler in the air at Melanie.

“No—and no. How about no?” Melanie’s head felt full of fuzz. Her stomach wasn’t sure what to make of the alcohol or the Coke. She never drank soda, especially with high fructose corn syrup in it. But Treasure brought both the liquor and the soda over and she thought if she were going to drink with her friend, she may as well go for it full force. Now that force roiled inside her stomach and the consequences remained to be seen. Explosive wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“Lightweight,” Treasure accused and flashed a grin.

“I haven’t had hard liquor in…” Melanie paused to think it over. “In five years? Six? The last time was Dylan and my anniversary. Afterward, we had sloppy quick sex.” Melanie’s eyes rolled into her head as she recalled the memory. “Why did I just say that out loud?” she asked herself more than Treasure. She really was a lightweight and her loose tongue attested to the fact. Instead of clamping her mouth shut, she continued explaining that rather unceremonious lackluster event that was supposed to be a romantic anniversary getaway. “Dylan wasn’t anything like Braden. He would pull up my nightgown, do his business, roll off me, and go to sleep. But, if he was drunk, he would linger and take his time about things and I was usually bored by the time he was finished.”

“That’s a truly sad story, Melanie Jamison. You need an orgasm like the one Alana over there is having.”

Melanie groaned. “Don’t remind me.” She edged back toward the window and tilted her head just enough to glimpse the nakedness next door. The enamored couple had moved to the chaise lounge and didn’t appear to be anywhere near finished. Alana held onto the back of the patio furniture with one leg raised. Her slender high-heeled shoe rested on the armrest of the long chair. Braden stood behind her, working up a sheen of sweat that glistened over the entire length of his hard, muscular body. Melanie adjusted her view again, to cut most of Alana out of her line of sight. This had to be the strangest thing she’d ever done. Melanie wasn’t voyeuristic—or she had never been before. Braden Keehn made her do things she wouldn’t otherwise normally do. Was it for the best that they hadn’t ended up together straight out of high school? The thought crossed her mind like a gauzy film. Barely tangible, yet solid enough to see opaque shapes. Wistful dreams and hopes long forgotten floated before her bourbon-drenched eyes. Once upon a time, Braden could talk her into doing just about anything. He didn’t even have to use coercion or bribery. He simply existed and she would do anything with him. The inexperience of youth, the lack of foresight, the inability to recognize consequences of poor decisions. She longed to have these things back—and then again—maybe not. As she watched her daughter, Sienna, reach the dreaded teen years, she wouldn’t wish hormone surges, snarky attitudes, and “knowing everything” on herself or anyone else. Were teen hormone levels to blame for the intense feelings she had toward Braden? Could out of control hormones and lust be the simple explanation?

A hand waved in front of her face. “You still with me?” Treasure asked.

Melanie jumped off her hazy thought trails. Treasure’s squinty-eyed grin beamed back at her.

“Hand over the bottle. This isn’t going to be pretty, and I no longer care.” Melanie reached for the Coke as Treasure passed the bourbon over.

“No mixed drink can make you ugly, silly. They only make you prettier, right?” Treasure downed another countless shot of the hard alcohol.

“Sienna is fine. She’s safe. I can drink once every few years and not feel guilty about it.” Melanie repeated the mommy reassurances as she mixed the cocktail.

“Sienna’s with her dad and you have the night off,” Treasure said over Melanie’s mumbling. “Has anyone ever told you, you over-think everything?”

“Only myself…like a daily mantra,” Melanie admitted.

“Good. It’s good to know yourself.”

“That’s one way of explaining self-criticism.” Melanie tipped the glass up to her lips and tried not to smell the sweet-tart scent of the alcohol and soda pop.

Treasure snorted. “It’s not criticism. If you don’t understand yourself, you can’t fix it. Not that you have anything to fix. You’re perfect in every way.”

“Ha! Not hardly, but thanks for the vote of confidence. This unmarried mother of one could use it right now. Especially since the love of my life is next door banging a Southern bombshell. I’m a shriveled twig compared to Alana.”

“Aren’t we all?” Treasure said. She glanced out the window and tilted her head to the right. “Forget about her and those giant breasts and look at his ass. That’ll brighten your outlook on life. Just because it doesn’t belong to you doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. He’s letting it all hang out for everyone to admire.”

Melanie looked. He really was a fine specimen of male perfection. She sighed and drank half of the cocktail in one swallow. Braden and Alana separated and moved away from the chaise lounge. He led her inside the house. “His chest makes my stomach flutter.”

“Are you sure that’s not the bourbon?” Treasure asked.

“Pretty sure.” Melanie eyed her glass with suspicion. “I still can’t believe he didn’t even recognize me.” She finished her drink as she walked to the kitchen counter. The glass clinked against the tile countertop as she set it down none-too-softly by the sink. She looked twice to make sure it wasn’t broken or chipped. The alcohol swimming through her blood was affecting her depth perception as well as her reflexes. She backed away from the countertop, which was suddenly three inches higher than it had been a couple hours ago.

“You said you were across the yard and wheeling the wardrobe into your shop. He probably couldn’t even see you behind that monstrous piece of furniture,” Treasure said.

“If I could see him, he could see me,” Melanie said, remembering the most recent incident of seeing Braden outside. She’d nearly lost control of the furniture dolly and tipped the two-hundred-dollar armoire she’d just scored at a moving sale. Recognizing his profile with the distinct brows and the line of his nose, the sheen of his dark hair, the taper of his long back, and even the curve of his jaw line from a distance made her heart skip a few beats—which was not helpful and slightly dangerous when trying to maneuver an armoire across the driveway into her workshop. He’d ignored her.

“Meh. I guarantee he didn’t see you,” Treasure tried again.

Melanie padded over to the living room and plopped down on the couch. She missed by a good four inches and landed on the floor. Treasure erupted into giggles.

“I meant to do that,” Melanie defended. She stayed on the floor. With peach fuzz percolating through her veins, the carpet was somehow more comfortable than the couch anyway, and the floor was more stable than the cushions. She listed to the left, stretched out, and breathed. “Can you please turn off the fan? Jezebel in heaven! Is the ceiling fan helping the planet spin?”

Melanie closed her eyes and saw Braden’s naked body in her mind’s eye. Torn between the nauseating spinning fan and the images imprinted on her eyeballs, she chose Braden and kept her eyes shut. Why did her neighbors continue to carry on like dogs in heat? A few houses on their end of the lake had an open view of their backyard. Did their privacy not matter? She never thought of herself as a prude, but intimacy with a lover was something that shouldn’t be shared publicly. Was she wrong? Treasure didn’t seem bothered by the free live porn.

“Next time you sell a motorcycle, can we celebrate with cupcakes?” she asked.

“I was thinking martinis, but cupcakes will do. As long as you don’t try to pass off zucchini and rice flour as cake,” Treasure said.

Melanie smiled remembering the look on Treasure’s face when she shared what her last batch of muffins were made out of. Her gluten-free zucchini carrot cake muffins were amazing, no matter what Treasure said. “How about Boston Crème with chocolate ganache frosting?”

“Sounds appropriately fattening and wonderful. Are you messing with me right now? I didn’t think you ate anything unhealthy.”

Melanie smiled to herself. When had she gotten so health conscious anyway? She knew exactly when and why, but she didn’t grow up that way. Her mother would bake a ham that was swimming in grease and lay out a cheesy casserole the size of Wisconsin to go with it. As if that weren’t enough fat and calories on one plate, she would cook the green beans with a pound of bacon and serve up fresh rolls made from over-processed white flour. Melanie and her sisters would have their choice of jelly or honey to eat on those sinfully delicious hot buttered rolls.

“I know how to bake the most amazing desserts. That doesn’t mean I do—very often. It’s okay for a special occasion. I only use rice flour because Sienna can’t eat gluten. It’s not because I’m a total health freak.”

“Well…sucks for your daughter,” Treasure said.

“Pretty much,” Melanie agreed. “My poor girl is allergic to everything. She has so many challenges to deal with. It’s not fair, ya know.” She didn’t even know what celiac disease was when Sienna was diagnosed with it. All she knew was that her daughter had constant stomach upset when she was little. Diagnosing the peanut allergy was easy enough. Eliminating the gluten and dairy from her diet solved nearly one hundred percent of the other issues. Her allergies, her bowel problems, her skin rashes, and energy levels all improved. The frequency of other illnesses such as colds, coughs, and flu improved dramatically after removing the foods that kept her immune system busy fighting all the time. Melanie would gladly give up all wheat and other gluten-laden foods and dairy products to never see her daughter suffer the way she did when she was a toddler. “After watching Sienna go through all those changes with her diet and learning everything I could, I can’t help but eat more consciously,” Melanie said.

“You just admitted you’re a health nut. Did you hear yourself?”

Melanie sighed and waved a hand in the air. “I do it for Sienna, but it makes life easier for us both.”

“Moms are the best people on the planet,” Treasure said. “As long as the Boston Crème cupcakes are the real deal, I’m in for another motorcycle sale party. I’ll even bring coffee to go with them.”

“You’re determined to undo all my hard work of eating healthy, aren’t you?”

“No ma’am. Only trying to keep you in touch with the rest of us lowly troglodytes. What was that awful green drink you were having instead of a latte the other day?”

“I think you’re referring to my matte latte with coconut milk.”

“Whatever. It smelled like steamed grass. I don’t know how you can live without coffee in the morning.”

“I like my green drinks. Antioxidants and probiotics—there’s nothing better. I should drink one now and start repairing the damage to my stomach and intestines, but I’m afraid to leave the floor. Spinning and puking isn’t worth the effort at the moment.”

Treasure laughed. Melanie sensed her friend moving around the room. She refused to open her eyes. The ceiling would send her over the edge and straight to the commode. Something tickled her cheek and before she could brush it away, she was attacked by something slimy and wet. Melanie jerked her head away from the assault. Yes, admittedly, she’d been fantasizing what kissing Braden would be like, but dreams and reality didn’t just crash into one another like that. Her head met the bottom of the couch. “Ow!” She pried herself up and rubbed her throbbing head. “Dang it, Tweeny. Get back!”

Treasure laughed again and plopped down onto the overstuffed chair. “Tweeny will fill in until you meet your perfect man,” she said. “Isn’t that sweet of you?” Treasure said to the dog and scratched Tweeny’s rump.

“Speaking of perfect men. What’s up with Bodie?”

Treasure leaned her head back against the cushion and closed her eyes. “He’s perfect. Which means he’s all wrong for me.”

“Now who’s the one criticizing themselves?”

“Hmmph.” Treasure made a sound somewhere between a groan and a grunt. “If there was a contest for sexiest, most attentive, orgasm-inducing lovers, Bodie would win,” she said with one sleek eyebrow arched high and a wistful smile on her lips.

Melanie’s eyes grew wide. That’s not what she wanted to know in regards to Treasure’s boyfriend, Bodie Everett. She inhaled a deep breath and felt an unexpected surge of curiosity mixed with courage. “Even compared to my Playgirl centerfold neighbor?” she asked.

“Hands down,” Treasure said.

Melanie stilled as that personal little tidbit sank in. Daylight seeped away as dusk sank over the horizon. The living room grew shade-by-shade darker much like her mood. Treasure had flipped the switch on the fan and the ceiling was no longer spinning. “That was more descriptive than I really needed. I won’t be looking Bodie in the eye ever again, thank you very much.”

“Hahaha. You’re welcome. He ruined me, too,” Treasure said. “I'm going to hook you up with Bodie and his brothers. They could use some of your furniture in their new brewery.”

“That’d be fantastic,” Melanie mumbled. She crawled onto the couch and tucked a throw pillow beneath her head. She didn’t say it aloud, but she had a feeling Braden unknowingly ruined her as well. Not in the unbelievably good sex department. No, it was much worse than that. She didn’t think she would ever love another man the way she had loved him once upon a time, so very long ago.

Drunk or not, the thought glared at her and refused to fade away until sleep took its hold and sent her into a heavenly velvet intoxicated abyss.