Chapter Seven
Eric
I felt refreshed, sitting up from my six-hour nap. It was just after six o’clock. After my shift, I ran some errands, went home, and passed out after taking a shower. Now that I was up, I figured I’d hit the gym for a strength training workout. Although I was going to Angela’s spin class every Tuesday and Thursday I had off for the last few weeks, that wasn’t nearly enough of a workout to keep me in the condition I needed to be in to do my job. I figured I could grab something for dinner after the gym, but I somehow found myself at Charlie’s once I finished my workout. I haven’t seen Angela in two days, and although we’ve spoken over the phone and via texts, it wasn’t enough interaction for me.
It was a Thursday night, and the music was blaring as soon as I walked into the bar. There were even a few people dancing in between the tables. My eyes scanned the room, first to see if anyone from Rescue Four was there. I tossed my head in a nod, acknowledging two Rescue Four guys who were talking with some firefighters from a different squad. One of them gestured for me to join them, but I gave them an “in a minute” signal before I turned my attention toward the bar. The edges of my lips curled upwards when I saw what was taking place behind the bar. That moment I realized Ed Sheeran's “Shape of You” was playing out of the jukebox, and my girl was behind the bar giving a show.
I moved in closer but still kept my distance so she couldn’t see me over the crowd standing around the bar. Angela wore a sleeveless, floral, flowy top and a pair of skinny blue jeans. Her hair was styled in its usual cut, short strands falling over her forehead on one side. She was holding up a steel shaker, shaking it over her shoulders to the beat of the music. Effortlessly, she moved her hips in time to the beat and then did a spin before pouring the shaker mix into two margarita glasses and passing them over the counter to two female patrons. Tossing the shaker somewhere under the counter, she and the blonde bartender turned to one another and did a shimmying shoulder move, moving in and out from one another. The crowd of patrons clapped and whistled at the show.
“Who’s next?” Angela called, still dancing.
A customer called out a drink order, and Angela danced her way over to the glasses and used a tap on her side of the bar to fill the glass with one of the specialty beers she served, then placed a paper coaster on the bar and the glass on top.
“I’m in love with the shape of you!” she sang along with the music. She, along with the other bartender, kept the show up for the remainder of the song, raising their hands to clap over their heads.
“Thank you, thank you!” They both clasped each other’s hands and bowed to the applauding patrons.
“Don’t forget to tip your bartenders!” she joked.
I moved in closer to the bar as more patrons moved away, making their way back to their tables, drinks in hand.
“Nice show.”
I heard a slight gasp as Angela spun around, her lips parting into a wide smile when her eyes landed on me.
“When can I get one of those in private?” Preferably with you wearing nothing but my scent. I left that last part out when I bent over the bar and whispered the question in her ear. I leaned back to see her dip her head, a shy smile forming on her lips and a slight blush in her cheeks.
“I thought you were resting?”
I grinned at her ignoring my question. “I did. Then went to the gym and was going to pick up something to eat but ended up here instead.”
“Can’t stay away, huh?”
“Not for too long,” I admitted, finally pulling her in for a kiss. My entire body relaxed on a sigh at the feel of my lips on hers. Any concern I had that day drifted away.
“Been way too long since I felt that,” I murmured against her mouth before pulling back.
“Are you hungry? We do offer some food.”
I hadn’t even thought about food once I stopped inside the bar. I was so anxious to see her and then mesmerized by the show she was putting on that my hunger had fallen by the wayside, but now that it was mentioned my stomach began growling.
“That sounds like a yes to me,” she laughed. “What’re you having?”
“Turkey club.” I held up my hand before she could hand me the menu, not needing it.
“Coming up.” She wrote down my order and then dipped from behind the bar to hand it off to the part where the small kitchen was. I watched her hips sway, and her ass move from side to side in the jeans.
“I’d sure like to get a private show of that,” a guy sitting two stools down from me commented.
I peered at him, and he held up his beer to me, grinning. My top lip curled upwards into a snarl.
“She’s taken,” I responded, voice tight with underlying possessiveness.
The guy’s eyes widened briefly before he nodded. “Hey, no harm, bro.”
“I’m not your fucking bro.” I was rarely this short with people, but he pissed me off.
“Hey, your sandwich should be ready in about five minutes. I told ’em to put a rush on it.” Angela appeared in my line of sight, breathless as if she rushed back.
When I turned my gaze back to her, the anger that I was just feeling ebbed and all that remained was the damn tingling in my chest again.
“How was your night? You had a long shift yesterday.” There was a worry in her voice, although she tried to hide it.
I eyed her, noting the slight crease in her forehead, and could tell she was holding something back.
“You heard about the big apartment fire,” I stated.
Her shoulders slumped as she blew out a harsh breath. “I saw it on the news. They’re saying a woman and her two children died.”
I sighed, having heard the same news before the media got ahold of that piece of information. The woman and her children were on the fourth floor of the building, right next to the apartment where fire investigators believe the fire started. They’d likely been sleeping when it started, and either had no way of getting out once it spread or had passed out and possibly died from smoke inhalation. I hoped like hell it was the smoke inhalation that got them first because burning to death is quite possibly the worst way to die. I did my best to push thoughts of the small children out of my mind.
“Yeah, Rescue Four was there,” I answered honestly.
“One turkey club sandwich.” A man brought a plate out from the kitchen area, setting it down in front of me on the bar.
“Come sit with me while I eat.” I knew it was kind of busy at this hour but I felt selfish. I wanted her full attention.
When Angela nodded, I blew out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.
“Hey, Jimmy, can you help Steph behind the bar for a few?” she asked the man who just came out.
“Sure thing. Take your time.”
“Thanks, Jim.”
With my plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other, I followed Angela to one of the empty booths. I waited for her to sit, admiring the way her jeans hugged the curve of her hips and lean legs.
“I missed you in spin class today. And Tuesday.”
I nodded, wiping my mouth from the bite of sandwich I took. “This is good,” I said, looking at the sandwich.
“Thank you. I have my cook make them with my special mayonnaise recipe instead of the regular stuff.”
“It’s delicious. But yeah, I missed it, too. I’m getting used to spin class,” I teased. It was more so her I was getting used to. “What are your plans for this Sunday?”
Her eyes moved upward toward the ceiling. “I’m doing a little housecleaning and then having lunch with my brother and nephew at home, but I’m free in the evening.”
“Nephew?”
Her smile grew, and her eyes lit up. “Yeah, Sean has a six-year-old son. Light of my life.”
“I didn’t know that.” For some reason, the idea of Angela swollen with our child came to mind.
“Yeah. Jeremiah,” she said, interrupting my thoughts.
“If you’re not too tired afterward, I’d like to take you out. There’s a movie playing in the park. I’ll even spring for the popcorn.” I wiggled my eyebrows, causing her to laugh.
“That sounds like a good deal. Won't you be too tired after work though? Don’t you have an overnight shift on Saturday night?”
“I do, but I’m never too tired to take you out.” I finished the last bite of my sandwich, savoring it.
“You are a charmer.”
“My mom used to say the same thing.”
“I bet she did,” she giggled.
We talked for a few more minutes, catching up on one another’s day. I opted not to go into too much detail about the apartment fire. I didn’t like the fear I saw in her eyes when she initially asked about the fire. It was the same look I sometimes saw my mother, and even my father, give when they asked about my work—which wasn’t often. We talked more about our common appreciation of old-school R&B music and the jazz festival we went to instead. Before I was ready for her to leave, Angela had to get back to work. That was my cue to take my ass home. I needed the rest before I had to get up for another twenty-four-hour shift the following day.
“All right then. Thanks, f―”
Whatever she was about to say was cut off by my lips on hers. I didn’t care that we were in a very public place. We hadn’t gone public with our relationship, but the combination of my growing need for her, and what the schmuck from earlier said about wanting a private show, made me possessive. I wanted to leave my mark on her, in front of others, so they knew to keep their distance. So, that’s what I did.
I pulled her into me with one arm, her hips pressed against mine. I took my time, feeling the plushness of her mouth, exploring the feeling of our tongues coming together. She tasted sweet, sweeter than any dessert I’ve ever had. I did my best to commit her flavor to memory. When she moaned into my mouth, I decided it was time to end the show there. I might’ve wanted to brand her with my taste for others to see, but I wasn’t about to give a fucking peep show.
“I’ll pick you up at five on Sunday.” My voice was thick, full of pent-up emotion and need.
“I’ll be ready.”
My cock jumped in my pants at the promise behind those words. I don’t even think she knew what she was promising, but my body did and responded in kind.
“It’s going to be a long two days,” I commented, pressing my forehead against hers.
Even her giggle made my body react. At that point, I released her. Suddenly, remembering I hadn’t paid for my food, I pulled out my wallet from my back pants pocket. A soft hand covered mine.
“It’s on the house.” Her voice was just above a whisper.
“You sure?”
“Positive.” She moved in, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I have to get back.” She turned and walked away. My eyes trailed her from behind as she pivoted and tossed a wink at me over her shoulder before ducking back behind the bar.
Reluctantly, I headed out the door to my car. Most nights, the only place I wanted to go was home after getting off work. Even when I’d gone out with a woman or went to hang out with the guys after work, I always looked forward to going home alone. I found comfort in my solace most nights, but at that moment, I knew things were changing when I wished that she was coming with me.
****
Angela
My head popped up from the homemade tomato sauce I was mixing over the stove when I heard the sound of my doorknob turning and then the door pushed open.
“Angela, you home?” a deep baritone voice rang out.
I sighed in relief, grabbing the edges of the apron I wore and pulling it over my head to toss it on the counter. Quickly rinsing my hands off, I patted them dry with a dish towel and made a beeline for the living room.
“Aunt Angela!” my nephew, Jeremiah, called out.
“Hey, sport!” I greeted, giving my little guy a warm hug. When I released him, I held him by the shoulders, examining him. I looked over the cinnamon brown color of his skin, which mirrored his father’s, and the honey-colored eyes he inherited from his mother. Although Jeremiah was only six, his height was in the age range of an eight year old, revealing that he’d likely be tall like both his father and grandfather.
“Hmmm, I think you’ve grown at least three inches since I last saw you,” I joked.
He giggled, displaying his missing front tooth. “You saw me just last weekend.”
I stood, pressing my hand to my chin and giving him the suspicious eye. “Are you sure? It felt like longer than a week.”
“I’m sure! Dad brought me, remember?”
I laughed at the way he looked at me as if I was the one who was the child.
“That’s right, sport. It’s coming back to me now. You made me promise to make your favorite spaghetti and meatballs when you came back, right?”
His little face lit up with pleasure. “Right!”
“You’re in luck, kid. It just so happens I was making my famous spaghetti and meatballs when you showed up.”
“Yes!” he cheered. “Hey, Dad, Aunt Angela made me ’pisghetti!”
“Oh yeah? How about you go wash your hands before you eat your ’pisghetti.” Sean and I both laughed at his joking of his son’s pronunciation. Jeremiah ran down the hallway toward the bathroom.
“What’s up, big brother?” I asked, swatting him with the dish towel I still held in my hand.
“It’s about time you acknowledged me. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes, just being ignored while you butter up my son.”
“Oh shut up.” I pulled him in for a hug. “You’re lucky I acknowledged you at all. How many times do I need to tell you to knock before you come in?”
“Why do I need to knock? You ain’t doing anything in here.”
I turned, hands on my hips. “How do you know?”
“Because I do. Anyway, you knew we were coming over. I figured you’d be in here cooking.”
“Only because I love my nephew. And I know my poor baby probably hasn’t had a home-cooked meal since he was last with his mama.”
Sean waved his hand, dismissing my comment. “Get outta here with all that. I’m working on my cooking skills. I made us some scrambled eggs this morning.”
I frowned.
“The hell is that look about?”
“Poor baby probably has a scratched up throat from all the cracked shells you left in those eggs.”
“Don’t play me, Angela.” He pointed a finger at me, trying to appear stern.
Laughing, I proceeded to the kitchen.
“Smells good in here though. Thanks for hooking my lil’ man up,” Sean stated as he moved farther into the kitchen behind me, toward the refrigerator.
“What are you doing?” I turned from my tomato sauce to see my brother leaned over at the waist, head in the fridge.
“Why did you make so many sandwiches? Jeremiah doesn’t like sandwiches,” he stated, ignoring my question. “And why’d you cut up all this fruit?”
“Will you get out of my damn refrigerator with your big head!” I pushed him at the shoulder, forcing him to stand, and shut the door.
He frowned down at me, arms folded.
“All clean!” A smiling Jeremiah entered the kitchen holding up his hands in the air as proof he washed them.
“Thanks, sport. Can you do me a favor and set the table like I taught you?” I asked, handing him a couple of Solo cups.
“Yeah!” He nodded his head before dashing out of the kitchen with the cups.
Ignoring Sean, whose eyes I felt on me, I took down three plates for our lunch.
“Who’re the sandwiches for?”
“None of your business.” I placed spaghetti noodles on each of the plates.
“For Eric?”
I stopped myself from turning toward my brother. “You heard, huh?”
“Who didn’t hear with the display you two, apparently, put on at the bar the other night.”
I sucked my teeth. “It wasn’t a display.” I figured news of Eric and I would’ve made it back to my brother by now. I knew there were a few firefighters in the bar that night, as there usually are. And one thing I’ve realized is that nobody gossips like firefighters.
Sean tutted. “That’s not what I heard. You two were practically dry humping by one of the booths.”
I turned sharply, facing Sean, pointing the wooden spoon I held at him. “Stop being ridiculous. You know me better than that.”
“I’m just saying, Angie, out of all the firefighters, you go and date a guy from Rescue Four. The competition.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep from laughing. “How are they your competition? Last I checked, you both work for the Williamsport Fire Department. Heck, for all you know, you could be transferred to Rescue Four and work with those guys someday. You might wanna be careful who you piss off,” I warned. Sean had recently put in a transfer, seeking a new station. Although he loved his current house, he’d also passed the lieutenant's exam the previous year, and since his fire station already had three lieutenants, to progress in his career, he needed to move somewhere else.
“I―”
“Cups are done. What’s next?” Jeremiah interrupted Sean’s retort.
“Here, buddy. But be careful. Take one plate at a time to the table.” I watched, smirking as Jeremiah carefully held onto the paper plate I’d just given him, slowly creeping toward the dining area with it.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Sean finally stated, once his attention was back on me.
I shrugged. “If you say so.”
“I do say so, and I also say I don’t like hearing news about my sister and who she’s dating from anyone besides her. Especially when it concerns her dating a firefighter.”
The way he spit out the word firefighter, caused me to rear back, frowning.
“Why did you say it like that?”
“I’m just sayin’, I know how we are. We meaning firemen,” he added when I scrunched my face up at the word “we.”
“We’re loud, brash, and sometimes we’re players.”
I gave him a look.
“Okay, more than sometimes.”
“Eric’s not like that.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Wrong.” He pointed at me. “Eric’s exactly like that. Don’t think just because he’s quieter than the rest of us that he’s Prince Charming. That man lets the bevy of women he leaves behind do his talking for him.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You sound as if you admire him.”
“Fuck you, Angie.”
“Ohhh! Daddy said a bad word,” Jeremiah shrieked.
“Dammit,” Sean mumbled under his breath, but it was too loud.
“Another one! That’s two dollars for the swear jar.”
I covered my mouth, laughing. Sean’s been trying to do a better job of not cursing when he wasn’t at work. Having a son who looked up to him and copied just about everything he did, he wanted to set a good example. The swear jar was something Sean came up with to hold himself accountable.
“I’m gonna go broke messing around with you two. Let’s go eat.”
“Wait, why me? I didn’t do anything.”
“You got me in here cursing around my son.”
I shook my head at my older brother. We sat down to eat, and Sean cut up the garlic bread and handed the bread basket to Jeremiah for him to dig in. Within minutes the only thing that could be heard around the small room was the smacking of both Jeremiah and Sean’s lips as they ate. I ate much slower, savoring the flavors of the Italian seasoning, garlic, and tomatoes in the sauce, along with the delicious bread I’d picked up from the farmer’s market the previous day.
“Can I have more, please?”
“Dang, boy, can you swallow what you have in your mouth before speaking?” Sean scolded.
I felt lighthearted watching my precocious nephew gobble down my food. I loved moments like this―serving others either at the bar or home, and watching them delight in what I’d made for them.
“I’ll tell you what, sport, how about I give you and your dad the leftovers so you can take them home. That is unless you don’t want the lemon pound cake I made for dessert?”
I almost fell over at how wide Jeremiah’s eyes grew when he heard what I made for dessert.
“You’re gonna have to roll the both of us outta here,” Sean groaned.
“Don’t act like you don’t want any cake either. It’s on the counter by the sink, covered in the tin foil. Bring out just two plates, though. I don’t want any,” I told him as he headed to the kitchen.
“You sure? You know me and this boy can finish a whole cake in one sitting.”
My lips turned downward at the sound of that. “I hope you aren’t letting my nephew eat all that sugar in one sitting.”
“Nah, I said we could finish a whole cake in one sitting, not that we would. We’ll leave some for you.”
“No, you all can take that home with you, too. I had some of it earlier.”
Sean shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Minutes later, Jeremiah and Sean ate their cake while I got up to retrieve some more of the fresh squeezed lemonade I made for lunch.
“Are you excited for school to start next month?” I asked Jeremiah.
He nodded, thankfully swallowing his cake before answering. “I’ll be in first grade.”
“That’s right. My boy’s in the gifted and talented program, too!” Sean cheered, holding up his hand. Jeremiah slapped it, and the two broke out into the personalized handshake they created for just the two of them. I adored the relationship between them. It reminded me of Sean and my father. Sean had emulated just about everything my father had done, right down to his career choice.
“You two remind me so much of you and dad,” I stated a later on, as we sat out on the porch, watching Jeremiah tossing a football with another little boy from the neighborhood.
Sean let out a chuckle. “Dad always said, I wouldn’t understand pure love until I had a kid of my own. I get it now.”
“I bet,” I sighed. Talk of my father made my heart heavy. I missed both my parents so much sometimes it felt like they just died.
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Fine.” I stood from the step I was sitting on. “What are you two doing the rest of the day?”
“Probably head over to the pool. Jeremiah’s been loving his swim lessons this summer. He’s less afraid of the water. It’s so dope watching him get excited about swimming underwater and all his new tricks.”
“Aww, my little sport. I can’t believe how big he’s getting.”
“They grow up fast,” Sean sighed. “A’ight, we’re about to get outta here before it gets too late. Thanks for lunch, lil sis.” Sean pulled me in for a hug and kiss on the cheek.
“Anytime. Can’t have my sport starving.”
Sean frowned at me, his eyebrows nearly meeting as his forehead creased. “That’s cold. I feed my son.”
“I’m just messing with you.” I slapped him on the arm.
“Jeremiah, come give your aunt a hug and say thank you for making us lunch.”
“We’re leaving, Daddy?”
“Yes.”
“Going to the pool?” His brown eyes sparkled with hope. I was reminded of the community center our parents used to take Sean and I to during the summers for swim lessons.
“I told you we were.”
“Yesss! Aunt Angie, you wanna come?”
“Thanks, sport, but I can’t hang out today. Maybe next time, okay?”
He came over and wrapped his arms around my hips, pressing his head against my belly. “’Kay. Thank you for the ’pisghetti and cake!”
I lowered my head, pressing a kiss to the top of his low cut hair. “Anytime.”
I waited, watching as Jeremiah told his little friend good-bye, and for my brother to load him and the food they took into the car before I waved and stepped back inside. For some reason, my mood soured after talking about my parents. I had wonderful friends, but I didn’t feel like unloading on any of them to express how empty I felt without my parents. My whole life my parents were my world. Hell, even Sean had commented on how close I was a few times, telling my mom and dad that they needed to cut the chord. But I wasn’t babied by my parents. We just were close. I moved back in with them right after college, and never felt the need to live on my own. They left me the house in their will since, at that time, Sean had purchased his own home for his then-fiancee and Jeremiah’s mother.
I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to shake off my mood, not wanting to carry it with me throughout the rest of the day. I was looking forward to spending time with Eric that evening, and I did my best to remember that. No one wants a pouting, sad date. I didn’t have much to clean up after lunch since Sean insisted he and Jeremiah do the cleaning since I cooked. I put away the now dry pots and pans and then proceeded to pack up the sandwiches, fruit, and chips I bought to surprise Eric on our date. I liked the movie in the park idea and thought instead of going out for dinner afterward, we could just eat it while we enjoyed the show. That was yet another thing I loved about my city. There was always something to do, especially during the summer months. I would have to fix my sour mood before six o’clock when Eric showed up.