My hand’s reaching for my phone before the idea’s fully formed, and I dial the number from memory.
“Dr. Hancock’s office. Jocelyn speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hey Jocelyn, it’s Eloise.”
“Hi honey. It’s been a while. How’ve you been doing?”
“Good actually. Until recently, anyway. That’s why I’m calling. I was hoping I could get an appointment with doc, sooner rather than later.”
“Sure. Let’s have a quick look-see.” I can hear the tap-tap-tap of a keyboard and can feel my body clench in anticipation of her answer. “I’ve got a few here, but they’re still a little ways away. Shall we get something on the calendar, and I’ll add you to the cancellation list, move you up if anything earlier comes up?”
“Yes, please. That would be great.” We spend a minute or two working out the logistics of my appointment, and when the call is done, an appointment secured, my body sags in relief. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I psych myself up to get my day started.
After a slow start to my day, the rest of it seems to fly by. Between shopping and cleaning the apartment, it seems like six o’clock arrives way before I’m ready for it. And now I’m regretting my life choices.
When I invited Bear to dinner at my parents’, it seemed like a brilliant idea. In the cold light of day – well, dusk at any rate – not so much. We’re building a friendship here, and I’ve always invited my friends home to meet my folks. So why am I second-guessing myself now? Could it be the giant butterflies crashing around in my stomach?
Or could it be catching myself going to extra pains to look nice for this evening, rather than my usual casual look I wear to my parents’ place?
Either way, it’s too late to go back as my buzzer rings. Game time. Grabbing up my purse and sweater, I open the door, game face firmly in place, and promptly forget how to breathe. A sensory overload, Bear stands tall and delicious framed by the opening. Freshly showered, smelling like heaven, the man is simply sin on legs.
“Hi.” A grin slowly spreads across his face, short-circuiting my brain. Words become an abstract concept, one I’m unable to process or action.
“Hi,” I finally manage to croak. His smile turns puzzled, an eyebrow quirking but, to his credit, he doesn’t ask any awkward questions I have no way of answering.
“You ready to go?”
This one Icananswer. “Yeah.” Making sure I have my key, I close my front door behind me. I about jump out of my skin as I feel Bear’s dinner-plate-sized hand settle in the small of my back as we head for the elevator.
My body goes on high alert – those same hands have given me so much pleasure, and it’s as if my body recognizes his touch. If I’m being brutally honest with myself, my heart recognizes his touch too, and that thought scares the bejesus out of me. Did I mention I’m regretting my life choices right now?
18
BEAR
Eloise is unusually quiet during the elevator ride. In fact, she’s been subdued since she opened her front door. Wrestling with my own demons right this second, I’m pretty untalkative myself. When I agreed to dinner at her parents’ place, it seemed like a great idea to get to know more about her in a familiar-to-her setting.
Now I worry that it’ll send out the wrong message. I didn’t stop to think that maybe this was a subtle “taking him home to the parents” kind of thing. She wouldn’t do that though, would she? We’ve been upfront about this being a friends-with-benefits thing only.
Eloise doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman to play games, saying one thing while entertaining an entirely different agenda behind the scenes. I’m giving myself a headache with the constant back and forth whether this was a good idea. Too late to back out now though so, as Agatha would say, suck it up, buttercup.
The drive over is filled with awkward silence and even more awkward attempts at conversation. By the time we arrive, I’m ready to make my excuses and make a run for it. Looking over at Eloise’s pale face, I feel like an ass for my thoughts. Maybe she’s as uncomfortable as I am. And weirdly, that thought settles me.
Parking in the driveway, I hop out to open her door and help her out of the truck. Almost of its own volition, my hand finds its way into the curve of the small of Eloise’s back, the feeling as natural as breathing. Should that worry me? Probably.
I shake the thought off as she knocks before letting us in with her own key.
“Mama?”
“Back here, Lola-bug.” Three simple words. Yet a wealth of love is clearly conveyed in the way they’re spoken. Jealousy, swift and unexpected, has my heart squeezing painfully.
For years after my mama died, moments like this filled me with rage that my father robbed me of her, her unconditional love. It took me a lot of time and effort to move past those feelings – for my own peace of mind, but also others’ safety. In the grip of anger, I would lash out at the nearest target. Being a mountain of a man, even at an early age, it was only a matter of time before I got myself into serious trouble because of it.
Eloise greeting her mother draws me from my dark thoughts in time to witness their embrace. Another twinge of that old monster, jealousy, tightens my spine.
Eyes so much like Eloise’s turn to me, and before I can process what’s happening, the tiny woman wraps me up in a perfumed hug the likes of which I’ve not had in decades. Warmth, welcome, acceptance – a myriad of unspoken feelings and emotions are conveyed through her embrace.
Unequipped to deal with what I’m experiencing makes me uncomfortable. Doing my best to suppress an urge to squirm, I’m grateful when Eloise’s mama steps back. Cupping my cheek, she gifts me with the most beautiful smile. One that reminds me so much of her daughter. It’s clear to see where Eloise got her inner and outer beauty.
