twenty
rutledge
The sound of hammers pounding, workers yelling, and machines filled the cool, crisp, salty air. I stood with my arms wrapped around her, not wanting to let go. But I had to leave her.
“At the Inn, in your room, door locked by eight every night, got it?” I whispered into the sweet scent of her hair.
Her arms around my neck, squeezed, her voice soft when she replied, “Eight works. The Great Martin’s last performance is at seven.”
“Peaches,” I grated out and went on, “Eight fucking o’clock, got it? I don’t give a fuck when The Great Martin gets done.”
She touched my cheek, teasing turned tender. “I’ll be in my room at eight on the dot.”
I leaned back and looked into her gorgeous pale green eyes and whispered, “Gonna miss you.”
Her eyes grew bright; her voice broke a bit when she replied, “Not as much as I’ll miss you.”
Those words ran down my body, then back up again, landing in my gut. The warmth they created, I needed to leave and now.
I lay a firm kiss to her lips, pulled back further but took her hand and kept going as she stayed planted where she was. Eyes locked to one another we stayed connected until the distance between us broke us apart. My arm fell to my side and I smiled at her before getting in my truck.
I started it, put the window down and shouted to her, “Keep that pretty little head out of chimneys, okay?”
She smiled, one so bright it was almost blinding. “We made a deal and I don’t go back on deals.”
I smiled at her. “And as many times as my mouth was between your legs this weekend, I don’t go back on mine.” I winked at her and slowly backed the truck out of the driveway. Her cheeks were red, looking around to see who heard my comment, but she was also aroused. It was a great fucking look.
My foot started to lift off the gas.
Maybe I could have Smitty sit in on the meeting. He knew the company better than…
I didn’t even finish that thought when I caught the old ratty shed out of the corner of my eye. And the warmth that sat in my gut turned to a chill that slithered through my veins. That rotting piece of shit of a building gave me the power to press harder on the gas, the power to leave her. I pulled out into the street and took off.
Normally, I’d blare music to stay out of my head, but once I got onto the freeway, my mind traveled to the last few days. Once Jessica left during the inspection, the day went by smoothly. Well, except for the few times I had to pull Peyton away from following Herb and Willy. The only way I was able to keep her next to me was when I asked her if she wanted to go sit by the cliff.
We really hadn’t talked about much when we did, her nestled between my legs, we’d both watched the water sway, clouds rolled by, content in each other’s company. Turning our friendship into something else had been effortless. The only difficulty now was trying to keep my cock out of her pussy.
It had been around three that day when Herb and Willy finished, and we all sat down and went over everything. Even though the house needed a lot of work, the foundation was solid, so most was bringing it up to code and cosmetic.
It hadn’t taken Peyton long to decide she still wanted the house, and Herb called his sister, the only lawyer in town. Since not many people in Ogg’s Point were banging down a lawyer’s office door, she jumped on the chance to do the closing for us. The very next day. Yeah, when you have a small town like Ogg’s Point, shit got done. And quickly.
So, Friday night I didn’t get to fuck Peyton in those godawful fucking boots. I’d been able to fulfill my debt as we had picked up pizza at Geno’s on the way back to the room. I had gotten the chance to show her how fucking enjoyable shower sex was though. Sadly, she had spent most of the night on the phone, making arrangements for monies to be transferred and so on.
It’d felt weird as fuck taking such a large sum of money from the woman I was fucking. It was a business deal. So I dealt with it. I also didn’t share with her that I’d planned on putting that money in an account where it wouldn’t be touched. That hadn’t been my first plan for the money. My plan had been to build myself an awesome fucking house, but now I decided to keep it in an account because I had dreams too.
When this morning rolled around, she’d wanted to grab coffees and walk through town. I knew she had seen the hesitancy in my features, and she hadn’t pressed the issue, but I felt like a fucking dick because I knew how much she had enjoyed the day we walked through Heron Creek. Although I’d tried to push through the anxiety building in my gut, telling myself I could walk through town with her, that it wasn’t going to be like it was thirteen years ago, I just couldn’t fucking do it. I pussied out and suggested we should start ordering supplies for the renovations. Even with the concern etched across her beautiful face, she agreed.
At noon we met Herb and Willy at the house for the first day of demo. Again, I spent most the day on my phone and when I wasn’t I’d been pulling Peyton out of the house and away from Herb and Willy. At one point I even found her with a damn hard hat on. Where the fuck she’d found it, I have no fucking idea. Cute as fuck though.
Before I’d said goodbye to her, I’d taken Herb, Willy and the few guys they had with them aside and threatened their lives if I found out Peyton was helping them. Or off somewhere trying to tear down the fucking chimney or something.
Jesus, that woman.
I rolled into the warehouse parking lot around nine. Parked my truck in the back, next to the steps up to the loft. Inside, I tossed my bag onto the couch and pulled my cell from my pocket as I made my way to the kitchen. I tapped the screen, placed the phone on the counter, listening to the echoing ring through the small speaker. Without a thought, I grabbed for the Jack sitting on the shelf.
“I was in my room at seven fifty-two. The Great Martin was singing The Greatest Showman. I cried.”
A huge smile formed on my lips, one to which was happening a lot around Peyton.
“I’m happy to hear you were in your room before your curfew, what I’m not happy about is you fucking crying,” I told her as I reached for a glass and went to the freezer for some ice. I viewed the sparse contents of it and glanced in the fridge, where food was growing enough mold to supply Penicillin to a small village.
Her voice grew soft. “So I won’t mention the good cry I had after you pulled away earlier.” Silence, just a deep inhale before she added, “How was the trip back?”
Throwing the two cubes in the tumbler, I asked, “Why the fuck were you crying? Herb or Willy didn’t do something—”
She cut me off. “No. I missed you. You hadn’t even pulled down the drive and it hurt.”
My temper slowed and I took a deep breath watching the amber liquid fill half the glass. I put the bottle beside it and realized it was my first Jack in days. It helped calm my nerves, silenced the demons. And when I was with her, I didn’t need that.
“Peaches,” I said softly. “Don’t cry, baby, I’ll be back before you know it.”
I moved from the kitchen to the small couch I had and sat down, just staring at the swirling liquid in the glass.
“I know. It just was hard watching you drive away after the last few days, but The Great Martin is doing the Sound of Music tomorrow, so I’ll be okay.”
I chuckled but told her, honestly, “It was just as fucking hard driving away from you.”
The golden liquid tempted me, and I gave into the temptation as I raised the glass and took a hefty swig. The all too familiar burn coated my throat and warmed my stomach.
Her voice was softer when she said, “I’m really glad I drunk purchased your house.”
“So am I baby, so am I.”
I leaned forward, put the glass on the table and looked to my boots. Black, exactly the same color my soul felt. Fuck, I wanted her. So fucking bad. But I knew I couldn’t have her the way I wanted her. Didn’t deserve her. Once she knew the unspeakable secret that I harbored inside, she wouldn’t want me. I should end it. That’s what I needed to do before things got too complicated. Fuck, they were already complicated. Who the fuck was I kidding?
For fuck’s sake, I had only known her for two weeks and every fucking time I drove away from her I felt a crack inside my damn chest. I didn’t want to leave her. And she cried when I did. I didn’t want to hurt her and I knew I eventually would.
“Speaking of which, I need to go home. I have to pack my stuff, sign the termination of my lease. With you gone, I was thinking of heading home too.”
Do it. The voice taunted. Do it, now. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, searching the dark in my mind for her beautiful face to ease the voices. I couldn’t find her. The voices grew closer, louder. You don’t deserve her, Rutledge. You don’t deserve anyone. My eyes sprung open and I looked to the old wood cabinets in the kitchen. The voice, this time it sounded just like him. I gripped my hair with my free hand, twisting the strands.
“Shut the fuck up!” I screamed.
It wasn’t anger but worry in her sweet voice. “Rut, are you okay?”
Fuck, I looked to the cell in my hand. Shit.
“I…” I started and stumbled. What in the fuck was I gonna say? I didn’t have fucking neighbors to blame my screaming on. Or even a damn pet. “I…” I paused again, sat back and ran a hand through my hair. “Everything is fine.”
Silence followed my lie, her deep breathing the only sign she was still on the line. Her voice no louder than a whisper when she said, “After my parents died, I had nightmares every night. So bad that I tried to keep myself awake. I tried everything, even pills. One night, I took too many. I couldn’t sleep but I was so damn tired that I lost count. Coda found me the next day. I almost didn’t make it. Ever since, I’ve battled sleep. I can never find it, but I won’t take pills again. The first time I slept through the night was the night you slept with me. I never thought I’d find a peace like that again. I saw your house on the internet; I fell in love with it. Then I met you. Sometimes things really do happen for a reason. Maybe we were meant to find each other. Maybe you’ll let me help you find peace too.”
A lump formed in my throat, finding it hard to swallow. The chill I had ever since I let her go faded, and the warmth only she brought to me came flooding back. A burn started in my nose, stinging came to my eyes, but I held it back.
My voice was low and hoarse when I told her, “You are my peace.”
I could hear the tears in her voice. “I wish you were here.”
I stared at the white chipped ceiling as I explained, “I can’t tell you what happened to me, and I want to, so fucking bad. But you’ll run, Peyton, it’s that fucking ugly. And even though knowing I don’t deserve you, I can’t seem to let you go.”
Her voice broke. “You’ve said that before. It hurt then too. Something happened to you, something ugly, and you think I would run if I knew? The man that walked with me through a small town solely for the purpose of showing me possibilities for the home I wanted to buy, who caught me from falling flat on my ass as I stumbled off the curb, who made me fall flat on my ass as he kiddingly scared me. The man who was prepared to take a man’s head off because he was looking at me and who put the fear of God into Herb because he was being inappropriate. The same man whose voice goes soft when talking about his grandmother and who looks at me like I’m the glaze on his donut. There’s nothing ugly about you.”
My voice was hoarse and low when I said, “Fuck, you’re making this so hard.”
“I don’t want to make it hard, so just know I’m here.”
I took a deep breath. “I’ve told people but…” I paused because the pain of realizing that the people I’d confided in either didn’t give a fuck or took my damn money. She was silent. I let it be for a few seconds. It was fucking killing me. The thickness in the air felt as though it was strangling me. Was she thinking of a way to say goodbye to me forever? Finally, I spoke.
“Peaches?” I whispered.
“They failed you.” More silence before she vowed, “I won’t fail you.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. Fuck, there was so damn much I wanted to say to her, but right now, her vowing not to fail me said it all. I couldn’t respond to that. I didn’t know how to. So I just let it sit there, hanging in the air, and did what good ole’ Rutledge Raines always did, changed the subject.
“When did you plan on getting your shit, again?”
She didn’t answer right away, the silence dragged out a bit before she said, “I need to make some arrangements so maybe in a day or two I’ll rent a car and head home.”
I rose from the couch, went to my bag and unzipped it. “Fuck, I wish I didn’t have this fucking meeting or I could have taken you.”
There was that softness in her voice again when she said, “With hope we’ll be back at the same time.”
Shoving my hand in my bag, I searched for what I was looking for. “Then do that, leave tomorrow and tell Herb and Willy if they have any questions to call me.”
She knew what I needed, despite the intensity of the conversation, she let it drop when that sassiness came into her voice. “Great idea, Rut.” Then she added, “Only eleven.”
“Eleven what?” I asked in confusion, scrunching my brows.
“You only said fuck eleven times today, well the ones I heard anyway. You’re slipping.”
I chuckled as I found what I was looking for and drew the small bottle from my bag. I held the phone with my shoulder while I unscrewed the cap, and I took a deep inhale of the shampoo I stole from her shower. It smelled like peaches.
“I’ll have to make sure to add more fucks to my vocabulary then.”
She laughed then asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know what happened to my shampoo?”
“Nope.” I smiled, holding the small bottle in my hand.
“I’ll have to visit the shop. It’s local. I’ll stock up.”
“Peaches?” I waited for her to respond so I could give her back what she was giving me.
“What, Rutledge?”
I smiled again when I said, “Great fucking idea.”