Chapter Three
Payton
“Who was that?” AJ asks as we take a seat beside each other at the largest table in the café.
“Who?” I ask casually.
“Seriously? Who? Ummm, the hottie with his eyes on you. Don’t pretend you didn’t notice. Grandma has twenty-eighty vision and she could even see those invisible sparks.”
“What hottie? What did I miss?” Grandma says from behind, startling me in my chair.
“Some guy was checking Payton out,” AJ tells her in a sing-song voice.
“Ahhh, Payters. Do you want me to go get his number for you?” Grandma asks, taking a seat at the end of the table beside Grandpa. Of course, she says it loud enough to catch the attention of everyone at the table. I can feel the heat creep up my neck and land squarely in my cheeks.
“No, Grandma, I don’t need his number,” I reply while reaching for the glass of ice water in front of me.
“Back in our day, we didn’t have those phones. When we liked someone, we had to ask their parents if we could court their daughter,” Grandpa adds.
“Psssh! The only courting you did was in the backseat of that old station wagon,” Grandma hollers over the noise in the café. Pretty much all commotion and activity inside the restaurant stops instantly. Cue that blush again.
“I loved that ol’ car,” Grandpa says with a chuckle.
“Anyway, if you’re too shy, Payters, I’ll go flag down the hottie and get his phone number for you.” All eyes turn towards me.
“No, thank you, Grandma. I’m good.”
“There’s no substitute for the real thing, Pay. No amount of toys can satisfy a woman the way a man can.”
“Jesus, we haven’t even taken our seats yet and we’re already talking about penises?” Ryan says, holding out an empty seat across from me for my sister Jaime.
“Or lack thereof,” AJ says. “Grandma was getting ready to school Payton on the differences between a vibrator and the real deal. Apparently, Grandma’s an expert.”
“I am an expert. I’ve been playing with one since I was old enough to drive a car. I’ve seen my fair share of meat sausages, girls. Big ones, little ones that curved to the side. Once, I even saw a black one that was bigger than my forearm.”
And cue the choking on my water. AJ tries to pound on my back, but she’s too busy laughing to really help in the matter. Ryan is trying to hide his laughter behind his menu and poor Abby looks like she’d rather melt into the floor and disappear. Everyone else is fighting their own battle with laughter. The only person not surprised by Grandma’s blunt comment is Grandpa. In fact, he seems completely unfazed at all the penis talk–especially since a good chunk of it wasn’t pertaining to his.
“Can we talk about something other than penises in a family-friendly café?” I beg.
“Like that man who was making moon-eyes at you?”
“You didn’t even see him. How do you know he was making any kinda eyes at me?”
“I know these things, Payter Potater. I’m Grandma.”
She says it like that’s supposed to be a good enough reason, and because I don’t have the energy or the desire to fight her on it, I let it go. Of course, she thinks she’s right and that’s why I’m not fighting back. The fact is, I don’t want to draw more attention to the man who makes my pulse quicken and my panties melt. I’ve spent four amazing nights with him in the last six months, but no more.
I can’t.
We practically work together in a sense, and it’s a line I can’t cross. My business means everything to me, therefore you don’t diddle where you eat. Or in my case, you don’t diddle where you work–again. That one time was a mistake. An amazing, fantastic, orgasmic mistake. One I won’t make again. I still have a hard time looking at that stainless steel workstation without recalling the feel of that cold metal against my bare chest while he made me scream his name not once, but twice.
And let’s not forget the fact that my front windows are all open to the street. Thank God he had enough sense to turn off the lights in the front of the flower shop before sliding his dick inside me from behind.
I shudder at the memory.
I swore that would be our last time. Hell, I said that after the first night. And the time after that. Next thing I knew, we’d spent four different nights together. Besides that one night at my business, one that spilled over to my place later, we’d always met up at my house. Hell, I don’t even know where he lives. All I know is that we’re linked professionally, and therefore, shouldn’t have engaged in sex. Not once, and definitely not four times.
“You feeling okay? You’re all flushed?” Jaime asks from across the table.
“Fine,” I reply, sipping more water.
“Don’t let her bother you. She only wants to help.”
“I know. I just wish she’d lay off me finding a man, you know? Not everyone is cut out for coupledom.”
She stares at me hard. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I’m the poster child for wanting to stay single forever, Pay. And look at me now,” she says as she glances over at her boyfriend. They both smile before Ryan places a kiss on her lips. They’re always kissing and feeling each other up. I guess if I had that new, crazy love feeling, I’d be all lovey dovey, touchy feely too.
But I’m not.
Thank God.
“Hey, Jaime, how did it go with Ryan’s family at Christmas?” Meghan asks.
“Fine,” she replies quickly. Too quickly.
Lexi must pick up on it too because her eyes narrow into little slits as she zeros in on her target. “There’s a story. I can tell.”
“No, no story. How are the wedding plans coming, Meg?” she asks, going for the redirect.
“No you don’t! What happened?” Lexi insists. When she sinks her teeth into something, she’s not about to ease up.
Jaime’s eyes close before she glances over at Ryan. He’s smiling like the cat that ate the canary, which basically just confirms that there’s a story there.
“Fine,” she mumbles, conceding. “Everything was great at first. I loved helping his mother cook and his sister was friendly and easy to talk to. We hit it off quickly. On Christmas Eve, I ran upstairs to shower, and well, Ryan ended up needing a shower at the same time.”
Ryan snorts beside her. “Babe, I didn’t need a shower.”
“Anyway,” she interrupts, drawing out that one word. “We were, you know, together in the shower, when his mom came into our room to bring an extra blanket for the bed since it gets cold at night in New York. She heard my scream in the shower and thought I hurt myself. She can running in and…”
“And Mom caught me in the upswing during some of my best moves. I’ve never killed a hard-on so quick in my life.”
“That’s saying something considering you two have been busted getting freaky more times than all of us combined,” I retort with a laugh.
“My boobs were pressed against the Plexiglas shower door, Payton. It doesn’t get any more humiliating than that.”
“What about the time you were busted by Barney the cop while having sex in that field entrance?” Lexi asks.
“Or what about the time you had a screaming competition with your neighbors at the Bed and Breakfast, only to find out it was Grandma and Grandpa?” Meghan asks through her own laughter.
“Oh God, those were so humiliating too.”
“Are you and ‘Oh God’ fooling around under the table over there?” Grandma yells towards Jaime, loud enough to catch the attention of those around us. Her face burns with mortification.
“No!”
“One of these days, I’d love for you to say, ‘Yes. Yes, I am stroking him under the table.’”
“Oh God, Payton! I could never do that,” she replies, shock mixed with her laughter.
“No, I bet you wouldn’t, but Lexi would. Too bad she’s stuck with Chris the Dud.” I gape at my sister, shocked that those words actually came out of my mouth. I’ve thought Chris was all wrong for my sister, basically as long as I’ve known him, but I’ve never actually said it out loud.
“It’s okay,” Jaime whispers, glancing over at Lexi. “She didn’t hear you.”
I sigh in relief. Even if I’m not a Chris fan, he’s still my sister’s husband. He tries really hard to provide for her financially, but not on a personal level the way you’d expect a spouse to. Case in point, the one thing she wants in this world is a baby. She went last month for testing at a big hospital and her results came back clear. There seems to be no problems with her ovulation or her parts. Chris, on the other hand, won’t go get tested. He keeps putting her off, saying it’ll happen naturally if it’s meant to be.
Shouldn’t a husband want to go get tested to find out if there’s something that can be done to help the process along? Especially because that’s what she wants most in this world?
Something nags at the back of my head. Why wouldn’t he get checked out? Does he not want a child as desperately as his wife? Maybe he’s embarrassed. I’ve read articles where the man feels inadequate when found to have a problem with his sperm count. I mean, aren’t all men supposed to be able to produce an heir? Therefore when unable to get the job done, they feel less manly. Or some shit like that.
Whatever.
All I know is that my sister wants a baby, but for some reason, he’s either not ready or willing to make that happen.
And that really pisses me off.
I glance over at Lex, not surprised to see the seat beside her occupied by someone other than her husband. In fact, Chris is absent more than he is in attendance when it comes to family functions. It doesn’t matter if it’s a night or weekend, either. He’s always working, wining and dining prospective clients or his existing clients, trying to get more business from them. As a young financial advisor at Edward Jones, he’s always looking for ways to get his foot in the door before those of the two senior advisors in the office.
“You okay, sweetie?” I’m startled from my own thoughts by my dad, Brian, who bends down and places a kiss on my cheek.
“I’m good, Dad. How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” he answers and takes the final open seat next to Josh. They immediately begin talking.
My dad seems to be smiling a little more than in the past. Losing my mom to ovarian cancer when I was seventeen left a big hole in our family, including my dad. He devoted his entire life to raising his six girls, but even then, it was tough. He had to work full-time to be able to support us, and thankfully, my grandparents were around to help out. Otherwise, I’m sure it would have fallen heavily on my shoulders.
In the fifteen years since Mom passed, I’ve never seen him so much as look at another woman, let alone take one out to dinner. I’m sure he’s lonely; hell, how could he not be? But he never lets on that his life is anything less than full. At least on the outside. But deep down, I see his sadness. I couldn’t imagine losing the love of my life at such a young age. The thought alone leaves me sweaty in the pit area.
“Payters, I think you should sign up for online dating,” Grandma says after our orders are taken. Everyone stops and stares at me. Again.
“What is this, pick on Payton day?”
“Never. I think it would be a great way to meet men your own age.”
Fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat, I say, “I don’t need to meet men. I meet plenty of men all the time.”
“I’m not talking about the ones coming in to buy flowers. I’m talking about the available ones that are looking to play hide the salami with my gorgeous granddaughter.”
“Could you not talk about the salami and my daughter in the same sentence, Emma?” Dad chastises before chugging his tea.
“Fine. Payton, what you need is a good ol’ fashioned round of bumping uglies,” Grandma rephrases happily.
The entire table groans.
When the silence descends on the table, Abby speaks up quietly. “I’ve thought about online dating.”
Her confession catches me, along with the rest of my sisters off guard. “Really?” I ask, trying to mask my surprise.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s hard for me to get out and meet people when you’re trapped in front of your computer screen fourteen hours a day with work. I thought I’d see what it was all about, you know?” She wrings her hands together and worries her bottom lip with her teeth.
“I don’t really like the idea,” Dad says. “There are all kinds of weirdos out there, Abby.”
“It’s just something I’ve been considering lately. I don’t know why I said it out loud. It’s not like I’ve decided anything,” she adds, turning her attention to a cracker packet from the basket on the table. The way she stares at it you’d think it was the most fascinating cracker packet in the entire world.
“Well, if that’s what you want, we support you,” Meghan chimes in. “Just promise us you’ll be careful.”
The rest of lunch progresses with minimal talk of online dating, fertility pillows, and sex. Even though they’re completely inappropriate most of the time, I can’t help but adore the way Grandpa rubs the top of Grandma’s hand. They’re totally touchy feely, often bordering on that fine line between loving and PDA. Oh, who am I kidding? They usually jump straight over that line and dive headfirst into groping.
What would it be like to love someone so completely that you’d risk public indecency on a regular basis because you just can’t help yourself? To find that one person who makes you laugh and causes your body to sing at the same time? Someone who’ll never make you cry?
Long ago, I thought maybe I had found that someone. Not all frogs transform into a prince. Some are just frogs through and through. And not every love is a great romance.
My mind instantly bypasses Cole and jumps straight to the man who triggers many dirty thoughts. He might have left his shirt behind after our first night together, but he took something when he left. In just a few encounters, he bulldozed through the reinforced walls I built surrounding my heart to protect it from getting hurt by those who claim to love you. He unknowingly broke through my tough exterior and started to make me like him.
Bastard.