“It Will Rain” Bruno Mars
If AJ had a flavor, it would be pine, smoke, sage and something else absolutely indescribable. Tasting him, reveling in the tang of him, is better than smelling fresh cut grass, or rain spattering on the ground. It’s one of the few magical things left in this world.
I can’t stop.
After he damn near devoured me on the coffee table this morning, all I want is more. More kisses, more caresses, more of him, of how he rolls his hips against mine… And more time. Forever doesn’t even seem like long enough.
“What?” He’s caught me looking at him again. Well, not so much looking at him, as much as I’m looking at the future I could build wooden slat by wooden slat with him.
“What do you mean what?” I look away with a tiny smile, instead watching the lights along the highway pass by.
“You were staring.” He squeezes my thigh. “Again.”
“Was not.” I bite my lip.
“You were. And you have been.” The smile is evident in his voice.
“What can I say? You’re nice to look at.”
The truck swerves as AJ pulls dramatically to the side of the road. “Nice?” He wiggles his eyebrows as he drags out the word.
“Yeah, nice,” I say shyly, unable to take his teasing as easily as his expert sexing.
“Well, you look pretty nice yourself. You look nice in the front seat of my truck.” He leans over and kisses my neck, a furious blush rising in my cheeks. “You look nice in my house.” He moves up and presses his lips right below my ear. My breathing catches. “You looked very nice on my coffee table.” His lips brush along my cheek. “And you look really fucking nice in my life, Camilla.”
I gasp just before his lips lock on mine. His strong, callused hands wrap behind my neck and hold my face to his as he kisses me. All I can think about is how he can read me like a book, how he’s picturing a future too, and he still kisses me as if it might be the last one he ever gets.
“Why were you staring?” His words dance on my lips, he’s barely pulled back.
“You look really nice in my life too,” I whisper the confession then press my lips back to his and take as much as he’ll give me.
“Champagne, AJ?” my mom offers him a glass.
“Thanks, Mrs. Collins, but I can’t, I’m on call.” He grabs me instead.
“Sarah?” She hands one to AJ’s mom and Sarah accepts and smiles weakly.
At first, I’m worried that I should grab her a beer rather than bubbles, but then I notice her look of disapproval is aimed at us. She’s studying how our bodies fold into one another, how our hands don’t leave the other. Each of AJ’s caresses makes her face pinch further.
I can’t quite swallow the lump that forms in my throat.
My mom starts talking about town gossip and asking about the ranch, but Sarah is still staring at me. Well, at Jay’s arm around me. I automatically shrink back into him. The way he rubs my arm says he’s noticed. He nuzzles against me like he’s going to whisper something encouraging, but he’s cut short.
“Are we really all going to pretend this isn’t happening?” Sarah asks, her voice even, if not a little frigid.
“Mom,” AJ warns.
“Don’t Mom me.” She shoots a glare over my shoulder to where AJ is pulling my back closer to his front. “She wrecked you. This town barely rebuilt you. And we’re all signing up for round two.” She adds a flippant gesture toward us.
“That’s not fair,” AJ spits out as he steps out from behind me.
“Not at all,” my mom adds as the rest of my family goes quiet. “And if we want to talk wrecked, just look at what your son did to my daughter. To my family. I haven’t had her home for thirteen years.”
I want to stand up for AJ, for Sarah too, but the words won’t come out.
“Not coming home is simply selfish.” Sarah sets down her champagne and steps closer to my mom, AJ angles himself in between.
“And blaming Camilla for this is petty. I know what AJ said. What he did. We never held it against him.” I’ve never seen my Mom with this much venom before.
“My words got twisted up. Everything got twisted up.” AJ’s booming voice adds to the cacophony.
“I don’t blame Cam for then. I’m grateful to her. AJ stayed here, he grew into a good man, dedicated to his community and the lives of others.” Sarah steps closer to my mom.
“Are you insinuating that Camilla isn’t?”
The whole conversation is speeding up, drawing everyone in, chewing us up, and I’m not sure we can handle being spit out. Shrill tones are obliterating the Christmas music in the background and the warmth that had been wrapped around my heart all day.
I try and burrow down into my shirt but I’m wearing a scoop neck T-shirt and have nowhere to go.
“She makes booze,” Sarah scoffs.
“Mom!” AJ shouts as he looks panicked over to me.
“And seeing you two today… after all that heartache,” Sarah narrows her gaze at her son, “you’d give up everything, give up on everyone that matters, to go get drunk with her.”
Pain flashes across AJ’s face, and as frozen and mute as I’ve been, I can’t stay rooted anymore. I take the two steps to him and dive into his chest, winding my arms around him. He clasps around me, cradling my head and the curve of my back tightly to his body. His hold is so tight, I know he’s trying to not only protect me, but he’s desperate to give me a place to hide.
“Casper would be so disappointed to hear you say that.” My Mom bringing up AJ’s dad finally breaks through the hurt balling up inside me.
“Stop it!” I finally yell, AJ’s chest barely muffles it. “Stop fighting, stop screaming. Whatever happened all those years ago, we’re family.” AJ squeezes me tighter. “That’s what Casper would remind us.” A tender kiss presses to my forehead where it’s tucked beneath AJ’s chin.
For a moment, the room is silent and I will myself to focus on the heartbeats beneath my ear. But then the whole room is shattered by the grating blare of AJ’s walkie-talkie. A crackly dispatcher starts rattling codes and locations. I don’t really catch what they are but I feel the way AJ tenses in my arms.
When his radio goes quiet the void it leaves is deafening and the weight of the room is crushing.
“Be careful.” Sarah’s voice has completely changed, it’s soft and scared as she pats AJ’s arm and turns to walk out of the house. I get the sense she’s not just talking about the dispatch call.
He kisses the top of my head again, then nods, and follows her, leaving me standing in the middle of my family. My heart shudders, aching worse than it did for the past thirteen years as I watch him go. For the first time in a really long time, I feel alone. Even in the crowded room.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” my mom murmurs from behind me.
I swallow roughly, trying to find my footing after what just happened. I can’t. I can’t at all. So I whisper back.
“Too late.”