Day Drinking
Keelie
“That doesn’t surprise me. Asa Hollingsworth is a giver,” Addy Vega notes as she reclines in her cushioned patio chair with her feet propped on an ottoman. She takes a sip of her water. “Don’t get me wrong—Crew is, too. And Grady. They all have their gifts, but Asa just sees things other men don’t. He’s sort of the silent type that sits back and watches, then when you least expect it—boom. He provides and lavishes—and not just with stuff. His time, too. It’s who he is.”
“He’s not that way with everyone.” Maya shakes her head, peeking under the blanket where little Chloe is nursing and adjusts her shirt before bringing the sleepy five-month-old up to her shoulder. She leans back and pats her baby’s back without missing a beat. “I thought Grady had a small circle, but the more I’ve gotten to know Asa over the years, he takes the cake. It’s basically his kids, Crew, Grady, and now, by default, our families. As much as he and Grady go head-to-head about work stuff, they’d do anything for one another.”
“This is true,” Addy notes.
“I’ve never thought about it before, but I see it now,” Bev agrees.
“Asa’s the hottest older guy I’ve ever seen. Even more so than any famous person,” Mary points out, leaning forward and gestures to my glass.
I sigh and hold it out for her. I hardly ever day drink and will pay for this later.
Addy laughs. “Asa isn’t old—you’re just twenty-five. Anyone over thirty is old to you.”
Mary smirks unapologetically and fills glasses.
Bev is a friend of Addy’s. Her husband works at Whitetail and they live here on Addy’s vineyard. It seems Mary is everyone’s hairdresser and is married to Evan, the manager of Whitetail. They followed us to Addy’s house after my wine tasting. Addy is newly pregnant and Maya is nursing. Between the two of them, it’s baby central around here, but thanks to Bev and Mary, I might as well be a dog sleeping in the sun—loose, relaxed, and sprawled in my chair. They haven’t allowed me to see the bottom of my wine glass all day.
It took an act of congress, but Asa managed to get all six of us out of the house. Emma was still barely speaking and I’m worried about her, but Asa insisted we needed to keep on about our day. Levi, who has always been an agreeable kid up until now, finally put up a stink about Asa’s plans. He wanted to spend the day with his girlfriend. Asa wasn’t about to allow anyone out of his sight the day after his house was shot to hell and put his foot down, insisting that everyone stay with him.
Knox and Saylor, on the other hand, were all too excited to go and they didn’t even know where we were going.
We all loaded up in my loaner and I made another mental note to call my insurance company right when we got home. I tried to ignore the luxury surrounding me, but it was hard. There are so many this-and-that’s, it had me wanting to mess with everything. Asa drove us a hop, skip, and a jump in the smoothest driving machine I’ve ever experienced, and pulled into Whitetail Farms.
I’ve driven by Whitetail a million and a half times and always dreamt about having the time to stop in, relax, and throw back a couple bottles—but my hectic life never allowed the extravagance.
But today it did. Today, I got the VIP-backstage-pass-royal-treatment. I’m not sure if it’s because there’s a barrel of wine aging with my name on it, or if it’s because I’m here with Asa, but the winemaker, Van, showed me around, taught me about the fermentation process, and introduced me to my barrel. We had a lunch that rivaled any other establishment in the area, and now I’m pissed I never made time to come sooner.
Crew insisted his newly-pregnant wife take a load off, so we all made our way back to Crew and Addy’s old farmhouse. It’s about the same size as mine, but I don’t have an Ordinary. At first, I was drooling over the quaint centuries-old portion of her home until Mary started telling me stories of ghost sightings from previous owners. If there’s one thing I do not have the time and energy to worry about, it’s ghosts.
So happy I don’t have an Ordinary.
My kids are hanging out with Addy’s cows and feeding them so much molasses, they’re sure to get a bovine-sized stomach ache. Levi and Emma must come here often enough because they threw themselves in front of the TV and continued to brood. Last I saw, Levi was busy communicating with his girlfriend on his phone.
The wine has turned me into a talker. I’ve talked a lot—about how I met Asa, all the shit going on at school, his kids, my kids, getting shot at and actually getting shot, Asa holding me in the ambulance while I got stitches, and finally, him sleeping with me last night.
I talked and talked and talked.
“I’ll take her.” I jump at the deep voice and look up to see Grady reach over the top of his wife and pluck the sleeping baby out of Maya’s arms.
Maya hands her husband the blanket and sighs. Grady returns to where the men have segregated themselves on the other side of the patio and I watch him scoot down in his chair low enough to settle his sleeping daughter on his wide chest.
“It’s no wonder Chloe can’t sleep on her own. Grady will pick her up from a nap just to hold her while she’s sleeping.” Maya shakes her head. “He’s going to spoil her rotten.”
“Vivi always wants Crew over me.” Addy looks over with a sweet smile on her face toward her husband who’s swinging their daughter around. But all of a sudden, her eyes jump to me and her face falls. “Oh, Keelie. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—” her eyes dart to Maya and then back, “—we weren’t thinking. Asa told us about your late husband.”
“I’m sorry, Keelie.” Maya’s voice becomes soft and apologetic.
Well, dammit. I just met them, but I know how this is going to go. Now comes the awkward part, where they feel bad and will forevermore tip-toe around me.
I take another sip of my wine. It’s been almost two years and David was no model husband. He kept secrets from me, he lied to me, and he left me with a mountain of debt he racked up gambling. But he was a decent enough dad and our kids have no knowledge of their father’s sins. They lost him, and even though conversations like this were a knife to my gut in the beginning, it’s become a part of my life I’ve gotten used to. “It’s fine, really. I’d never want you to be sorry for being happy. You should shout that from the mountain tops.”
“Life happens.” Bev motions around our circle with her wine glass. “I’m older than all of you and have been around the pasture a time or three. You live your life, Keelie, and don’t feel bad about it. When you get to my age, you’ll look back and thank your younger self.” Her voice is chipper and light as a fluffy, fucking pancake, and I’m grateful. It’s a relief when I find people who don’t treat me like a china doll. “Just so you know, Asa is a wonderful father on top of being a looker. I do believe I’d keep him if I were you.”
I can’t hold it in. I’m so grateful to her for breaking the tension, I laugh and try not to slosh my wine. “Oh, he’s a looker, alright.”
Addy, Maya, and Mary are smirking and Bev tips her glass before taking another long drink of her red and argues her case for Asa further. “See? You and your babies will be just fine, Keelie. That man sitting over there is smitten—I’ve seen it play out on this land too many times to be mistaken. We do specialize in weddings, don’t we girls?”
The women grin at Bev and Addy reaches over to squeeze her friend’s hand. “That we do, Bev.”
I’m not sure about a wedding, but I’m eternally indebted to Bev for breaking the ice.
“We’re on a vineyard and it’s a beautiful day,” Mary points out the obvious. “And we have to make up for these baby makers who aren’t drinking. Sit back and enjoy the wine, Keelie.”
I sink farther into my patio chair and roll my head to find Asa looking straight at me. He’s not relaxed like I am. His eyes are intense and heavy, and that gaze creates an instant warmth I’m starting to get used to when it comes to him. I was too tired last night to think about it. Instead, I let myself cling to him and found comfort in his touch.
I liked him in my bed and I haven’t thought about wanting anyone there since I kicked David out of it.
Asa leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees and lifts his beer to his lips to take a swig, never taking his eyes off me.
My mouth goes dry but my panties are plenty damp.
“Yeesh, the eye-fucking out here on the patio is making it humid.”
My eyes dart to Mary and she’s grinning. Maya and Addy laugh, but Bev gives her a little frown.
I look over at Asa one more time and he rubs his clipped beard before directing his attention back to the men.
Humid—warm and wet is a good description for the climate right now.
*****
Asa
I look away from Keelie and have to beg my dick to relax. Especially after last night.
I’m forty-three and way past fucking around. I’m particular about where I put my cock and it hasn’t been anywhere but my hand for a while. The idea of Keelie interested me the minute she put her small hand in mine to introduce herself when I changed that guy’s tire on the side of the road. Every bit of contact I’ve had with her since has built on that exponentially, and now my craving for her is off the charts. To be in her bed last night just about did me in.
On top of all that, I’ve got Emma to worry about, whoever shot up my house, and I still don’t know why someone set up Levi. My ex-wife is freaking the fuck out about what happened to Emma and wants the kids to come to California. And there’s no way I’m leaving Keelie and her small children alone. No fucking way.
To say the past twenty-four hours have been intense is an understatement, yet every time I see Keelie’s tongue wet her lips, I imagine it tasting my cock right before I fist her long hair and slide myself inside her sweet mouth.
“Right. I’ll let him know.” Grady’s voice is low since Chloe’s sleeping on his chest. He sets his phone down on the table next to him and settles his hand on Chloe’s back. These men and their babies—never imagined them this way after working with them all these years. “That was Jarvis. He’s been looking around.”
“And?” I lean back in my chair. Vivi and Cayden are playing just beyond the patio in a sandbox and the three of us are sitting around the unlit fire pit.
“He couldn’t find Raymond Wallace. He’s scoured all the places I sent him and where we knew he trolled. No one’s seen him for days, either. I don’t know if we scared the shit out of him or what, but he can’t be that hard to find, especially for Jarvis.”
Grady and Jarvis are close, but they would be. Grady and I went head-to-head over him in the beginning years ago. I prefer recruits who can at least control their fucking tempers. Jarvis has somehow toed that line, yet still jumped off the deep end so many times, I don’t know how he hasn’t gotten burned. But if I can benefit from it now, I will.
Grady’s eyes move to me. “Terry Mosher was easy to find.”
“He should be. He still lives at home and is suspended until the district decides whether or not to expel.” Mosher is a shithead kid who thinks he’s bigger than he is. He definitely thought he was untouchable until last week.
“He followed him until he stopped at a gas station and was able to get him alone. At first Mosher acted like he didn’t know about the shooting, but finally fessed up. Not only had he heard about it, but once Jarvis pushed, he finally gave up a couple names who drive blue sedans. This was a couple hours ago. He’s still poking.”
“Did he say if they’re related to any group?” Crew asks.
“Not yet, but that should be easy to figure out,” Grady says as he rubs Chloe’s back when she starts to fidget.
“I want those names,” I demand. “I’ll have Carson run them. He could have something back in a couple hours.”
Crew picks up his phone and raises a brow. “I’ll let Jarvis know, but it’s not like he’s on the payroll for this. This shit’s like a game to him, the crazy fuck.”
I hear a burst of laughter from the women and look over to find Keelie loose and happy. This is good. She needs this after yesterday. But then I look toward the house and think about Levi, and especially Emma, and all the shit that’s gone on recently. I’m past thinking that this could be happenstance or a run of bad luck. Someone’s targeting my family and now Keelie’s been dragged into it. This shit needs to stop so I can get my daughter better, let my son enjoy the end of his senior year, and move things forward with Keelie and her kids. And no way are Levi and Emma going to California, I just got them.
I want it all and that means I need to fix this.
I set my beer bottle down on the patio and stand, glaring down at Crew and Grady. “You tell him to send me those names and do it now. I’m tired of people fucking with my family—I’m ready to put an end to it. That crazy fucker can come along for the ride, but I’ll be the one to end it. I’m gonna go check on my kids. Tell him I’d better have those names in the next ten minutes. I’m sick of this shit. I’m ready to move on.”
I don’t give them a chance to respond and head for the back door.
*****
Keelie
If day drinking were an Olympic sport, I’d be a gold medalist. Asa Hollingsworth could travel from afar to watch me compete with the world’s best—but I’d conquer all.
However, day drinking is also exhausting.
I don’t know how much wine I had since I never saw the bottom of my glass, but the hours flew. Eventually, hunger engulfed my children and they became miniature spawns of Satan. After all the day drinking and being so relaxed I didn’t have a care in the universe, I’m over being embarrassed by my children’s childish tendencies. I mean, every kid gets grumpy when they’re hungry, and most don’t love to do their homework, and I’m pretty sure all siblings bicker and fight. If Saylor hasn’t scared Asa off by now, I wasn’t worried when she acted like the world was going to come to an end if she didn’t have fish crackers yesterday.
Asa rounded us up quick-like, I said goodbye to my new wino friends, and we were off. I didn’t know where we were off to and I didn’t care. I was sitting in the most comfortable seat in automotive history, so I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. The last thing I heard was Saylor and Asa discussing lo mein.
The next thing I know, car doors are slamming and when I feel a touch on my chin, Chinese food mixed with new car smell engulf me. My eyes flutter open and all I see is Asa. “You’re home, baby. Go on in.”
“Where are the kids?” I ask.
“In the house, probably ransacking your kitchen.”
The thought of standing exhausts me further, so I state the obvious. “I drank too much.”
He smirks. “It’s okay.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. I can’t day drink. It makes me tired and my kids are too little—they need me.”
“I’m here,” he says. “It’s not like they’re on their own. Give yourself a break. You had a bad day yesterday.”
I close my eyes and let my head fall back to keep it from spinning. “I did get shot.”
Asa lowers his voice. “Don’t joke about that.”
I roll my head on the cushiest headrest ever and barely open my eyes. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Come inside and eat.” He gets out of my loaner, but I don’t move.
When he opens my door, I shake my head. “I’ll just sit here. This is more comfortable than my bed.”
He takes my hand and pulls me out. “I know for a fact that’s not true.”
When I’m standing toe-to-toe with him, I lean into his chest and tip my head back. “You liked my bed?”
He dips his hand in my hair and leans down to kiss me. “I did.”
“It’s new.” For some reason, I feel the need to fill him in on this and the wine is making me talkish. “You should know that. Because I’m me, and even though the CIA blabbered everything about my life, I’m not sure if they know the age of my bed. You should know when I got rid of David’s stuff, I got rid of that, too. I couldn’t stand to sleep on it. It was during my angry stage—my therapist concurred.”
Since I’m pressed against him, I feel him sigh when he shakes his head. He brings his hand up to cup my face. “The CIA doesn’t know the age of your bed.”
“Well, with all my other baggage,” I mumble, continuing, “you don’t have to worry about that. It’s new.”
He kisses me again. “I’m not worried about your baggage, baby.”
“Really?” I ask, wondering if he’s telling the truth. I mean, I’m a widow with two kids, a donkey, goats, mutts, barn cats, and a broken-down house. I’m not exactly a piñata party.
He gives me a squeeze. “Really. You give it all over to me—I can handle it.”
I shake my head, pushing away from him and let my words trail off, “You say that now…”
I somehow make my way through the garage and to the kitchen where all the kids are eating out of Chinese to-go containers. I need leggings and to not be wearing a bra. I leave the bra part out and announce, “I’m going to change.”
I end up in my room with every intention of taking off my bra and returning to eat all the Chinese food I can, but instead, I look at my new-ish bed that is still unmade from last night. If there’s one thing in life I don’t have time for, it’s making beds. Asa’s pillow is lying there where I left it this morning, so I sit and pull it to my face to see if it still smells like him.
It does.
I fall to my side, promising I’ll just smell it for a few seconds.
That’s when the day drinking takes over. I fall asleep smelling nothing but Asa.