- Home
- Tess Oliver
Wingman: Just a Guy and His Dog Page 11
Wingman: Just a Guy and His Dog Read online
Page 11
"You're welcome." I pulled her around to face me. "I've got a big blanket in the back of the van. We could drag it out and huddle on the sand . . . and stuff."
"Stuff eh? Well, since my entire body is covered with gooseflesh because of this brittle wind, a big blanket and a huddle next to your warmth sounds very inviting."
The three of us trudged through the deep sand toward the van. Boone climbed in back and curled up in his bed, letting us know his beach adventure was over. I pulled the blanket off the mattress I'd shoved into the van for my road trip. It blew in the wind like a giant sail. Ella laughed as she grabbed for one of the loose ends. We were able to tame it into a ball before carrying it back down to the sand.
We sat down just a few feet off the parking lot. Ella had to turn her face to avoid getting sand blasted as I tried to pull the blanket around us like a two person cape. As I moved it behind her, she reached up to grab the corner. The wind whipped it from her grasp, and the blanket took off like a big, unwieldy kite. I jumped up to chase it and Ella followed.
I snatched it just before it landed on the trash dumpster.
Ella was still fighting her hair as the strands curled up in every direction. "Ugh, this is what Medusa must feel like when all the snakes are awake. I love the beach, and I love the idea of snuggling with you on the sand, but I think we should climb in the van. It's parked on the beach, so it's technically still snuggling on the sand.”
I shoved the blanket under my arm and took hold of her hand. "I like the way you think, Starshine."
We hurried to the van and crawled into the back. I tossed the blanket over the mattress. "You'll have to excuse this place. It's not quite as luxurious as my motel room."
The wind rocked the van back and forth and a hurricane of sand sprayed the outside. I sat on the mattress and pulled Ella in front of me. "I'm thinking we get straight to the stuff. Starting with you getting naked."
Ella laughed. "I guess my mom was right when she told me boys only buy vans for one reason. Of course, she cut herself off before revealing to me what that one reason was, but I think I'm about to find out."
"You are and I think you'll approve." I pushed up her shirt, and she lifted it off her head. I took hold of her waist and brought her bare stomach closer for kisses. My fingers fumbled with the buttons on her shorts as she worked at taking off my shirt. I paused my trail of kisses long enough for her to draw my shirt off. She dropped it on the mattress.
"Take your pants off," she said in a bossy tone that she punctuated with a flirty wink.
"Yes ma'am." I slid my pants off and grabbed a condom from the pocket before tossing them aside. I held my hands out to the side. "Will that do?"
"Oh yes, that will do just fine."
I pushed her shorts and panties off, and she stepped out of them. I kissed the mound of her pussy as I wrapped my hands around her ass. She braced her hands on my shoulders as I pulled her closer.
She combed her fingers through my hair and tugged to lean my head back. She gazed down at me, and all I could think was how the hell did I end up with this angel?
Ella straddled my lap and leaned in to kiss my mouth as she slid down over me. Her warm, breathy mewls tickled my skin as her pussy absorbed every inch of me.
"Fynn," she sighed.
"Hell, Starshine, you know how much I fucking love to hear you say my name, especially when I'm inside of you. I want to stay buried in your pussy forever."
My hands cupped her ass as she lifted up and dropped back down over me, milking my cock with her pussy as she moved. She wrapped her arms around my head, cradling my face against her breasts as she rocked against me. The mound of her pussy rubbed against me.
Her head lolled back, pushing her nipples harder against my tongue as she moved over me.
"You are so fucking tight, Ella. Like fucking heaven. Your pussy was made for me and no one else." My words brought her closer to climax. She braced her hands on my shoulders and we crashed together.
Her head dropped back and her eyes drifted shut as her body vibrated with waves of pleasure. Watching her face as she came brought me to climax. I held her tightly over me as our bodies exploded together.
As our breathing slowed and the pulsing waves decreased in intensity, Ella dropped her head to my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her and held her for a long time. The wind shifted the van back and forth, and the roar of the ocean sounded like thunder.
A shiver went through Ella. I reached back and pulled the blanket around us. "See, we're still huddling, only no sand in our eyes."
She kissed my shoulder and lifted her head. "Or other important places."
"Good point. I suppose we should get back on the road." I reached up and brushed the hair off her face. "Do you think you'll be all right?" We hadn't discussed the panic attack once it had passed, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed clear that it wasn't the motion sickness but the road itself that had caused it.
Ella climbed off my lap, and I draped my arm around her. "I'll be fine. It was just a little carsickness, that's all."
"That highway," I started and then a little voice told me to drop it. That same voice had been picking at me, trying to start trouble with a double-edged question. Why did you really invite Ella to the beach? You could have spent the day with her anywhere, but why the coast?
"That was the highway where the bus went off." She finished what I'd started. "But I'm sure it was just motion sickness."
I squeezed her against me. "We'll leave the windows cracked on the way back. That should help."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ella
It was amazing how quickly I'd gotten used to seeing Fynn working at the park. Now I expected it. He had become a part of the town. And no one who had lived in Butterfield for the past ten years could ignore the incredible transformation of the town square. The fountain chortled all day with frothy mounds of water, and Richard and his volunteers had somehow managed to coax the grass to return from the dead.
I was right on time for work but decided a two minute stop in the park wouldn't hurt. And talking to Fynn, even if only for a few seconds, would help energize me for a day in the store. I parked my bike in its usual spot outside the market and walked across the street.
Fynn was perched near the top of a tall ladder that was leaned precariously against the outside of the pavilion. His arm muscles were flexed as he ground away on a chunk of rust.
I climbed the steps of the pavilion and peered up at him through the curls of iron. His face was framed by the those same curls as he looked down at me. "Hey, Starshine, just in time. Can you hand up a new square of sandpaper? This one is worn enough to be used as tissue."
I walked over to the box of sandpaper sitting on one of the interior benches and pulled out a new sheet. I climbed up on the bench that was directly beneath where he was working. The wooden benches in the pavilion had all been weathered into splintery skeletons. I wasn't confident it had the strength to hold me. I gripped the iron scrolls and hopped up on my tiptoes. I stretched my arm up as far as it would go, and Fynn reached down as far he could. He not only grabbed the edge of the sandpaper but he managed to grasp my hand as well. He hung on for a short second and then let me go. The ladder wiggled and he grabbed the iron dome to keep from being pitched off the top.
"Fynn, can't you find a better ladder or figure out a safer way to do that?"
He wobbled the ladder under his feet for a second, causing a gasp to catch in my throat.
"The ladder is as steady as they come, and I've been in much scarier positions. I used to work on construction sites where the buildings were four or five stories high."
I hopped down and stared up at him. "You never told me you worked construction."
He peered at me through an opening. "Didn't I? After I got tired of working on the farm, I headed toward the city to earn a living. Hated the boss though. And if I'm being fair, he hated me too."
"Now, who could ever hate you?" I teased.
/>
A thin rust colored dust cascaded down as he sanded the iron. "Let's just say it had to do with a girl named Amy and leave it at that. Not one of my prouder moments. And it wasn't just about a girl. We just didn't see eye to eye on anything. There's nothing worse than a cranky boss."
"Which reminds me, I should get to the store before my boss gets cranky." A wet nose hit the back of my thigh. I reached down and patted Boone on the head, and he dropped a dead lizard at my feet. I scooted away from it. "I think Boone brought you a gift."
Fynn looked down into the pavilion. "Boone, I told you not to do that. Get it out of there. Now."
Boone, slightly insulted that his present was underappreciated, walked away with the dead lizard in his teeth.
I shaded my eyes and peered up at him again. "By the way, this is my last night alone. My parents come home tomorrow. I could make some dinner if you want to come by."
"Sounds good."
Fran had walked up on the other side of the pavilion and said hello before I'd even noticed her or her wide brimmed hat. "Good news, Fynn," she chirped from the outside of the pavilion. I headed down the steps to hear what she had to say.
Fynn looked down at her, and the ladder did a little sideways dance. It made my heart skip a beat, but Fynn hardly flinched.
Fynn was high enough up that Fran had to take off her hat to look up at him. "I found money in the budget for painters. Especially if you do all the prep work with sanding off the rust and repairing bent scrolls. They'll spray it with a high quality outdoor paint. And Richard talked to his structural engineer friend, and he has agreed to come look at the rocket slide for free."
"Awesome, thanks, Fran."
A loud whistle pulled everyone's attention to the market. Patty was standing out in front of the store with her hands on her hips.
"Oops, I'm in trouble. See y'all later."
"Later, Starshine."
I hurried across the street. Patty slipped back inside and rudely let the door shut before I could reach for it. I yanked it open and walked inside.
Patty looked pointedly at the clock on the wall. "Your shift started five minutes ago. I'll have to dock your pay."
I stopped my progress toward the backroom and swung around to face her. "I'll stay five minutes extra."
"That's not the point." She pretended to busy herself with the candy display on the counter, and the more she fidgeted with it, the more she had to reorganize it. "Your shift started at eight, and you weren't here."
I glanced around at the empty store. "You don't have any customers yet."
"Again, not the point." Her tone was not even close to the Patty tone I knew so well. "There are plenty of other people who would like to have your job."
I tilted my head, almost waiting to see if she was serious. Apparently she was because no smile followed. "Seriously? Plenty of people?"
"School will be out soon enough, and kids will need a summer job."
"Great. I'm so replaceable, any high school kid could just step into my job. Wow, was not expecting that confidence boost today."
Patty had reshuffled the candy display several times. Her attempt to look busy had now resulted in her having to empty the whole display and start again just so that it would be in perfect order. I could have easily mentioned the time she wasted rearranging things that didn't need rearranging but then she was the boss and I was just a placeholder for the position that could easily be filled by some flighty, phone obsessed teenager.
I walked closer to the counter. "You're right, Patty. I need to be here on time. But I think we both know this has nothing to do with the five minutes and everything to do with Fynn. I'm sorry it turned out this way, Patty, and I'm sorry if you've been hurt by it." I turned to walk away.
"I'm not hurt by it," she said curtly. "God, it's always about Ella. The center of the world, Ella Ives."
I turned back to her.
She didn't look at me but continued, almost as if she was talking to herself. "I'm so tired of having to pretend. I'm tired of the whole charade."
"What the hell are you talking about?" I watched her line up the candy bars for a few seconds, pretending I wasn't standing in front of her. I worried that her OCD had finally pushed her over the edge of a breakdown.
Then she looked up at me with a casual shrug. "Besides, Brent called me the other day, and he said he's found some things out about Fynn that will change everyone's opinion of him."
I was confused at her jarring change in topic and silently told myself not to get drawn in to her meaningless taunt. But I was always my own worst enemy. I looked back at her. "If you mean the man who has returned color back to a town that had been drained of it for too long, then I'd say Brent is going to have to have something pretty damn alarming to change opinions. Hey, maybe he's that serial killer after all."
"Guess we'll see." She was visibly upset about the task she had made for herself with the candy display. There were so many shapes and sizes of candies, making it just right, or at least just right in her mind, might very well take her the rest of the morning.
I decided to push the whole damn conversation from my mind. It seemed, just like Fynn with the construction foreman, I had fallen heavily out of favor with the boss. I wasn't sure I could stand it for long.
There was stock to inventory, and I was thankful to have a dull, mindless task to take up the morning. Only it gave me far too much time to think. And there were so many topics dashing around in my head that it was like chopped salad. The one thing that came out crystal clear was that I had fallen hard for Fynn. Hard enough that, for the first time in my life, I could actually see myself leaving Butterfield. It was crazy to think about and stupidly premature to even consider, but the possibility had definitely started to take shape in my head. The unpleasant new change in my boss would certainly make it easier.
I'd finished unpacking boxes and checking off inventory and headed out to the store front to take over at the counter. Thankfully, the daily audience at the window had finally died down.
Sarah walked in with her signature rosy pink cheeks. She always had red cheeks, whether it was cold or hot or just right outside, the fresh air just turned her cheeks naturally pink. As the door shut behind her, the cowbell clanged and a stream of outside air wafted in.
Sarah was holding something in a napkin. Whatever it was, it smelled as wonderful as the air that had drifted in behind her.
I took a deep whiff. My mouth watered as a warm feeling of nostalgia overtook me.
Patty, who had once again cooled her heels as the day passed, took a deep breath too. "What is that smell, Sarah?"
"Yeah, it smells like happiness. And chocolate." My eyes rounded, and my gaze shot to the napkin in her hand. "It's Jilly's donuts. Jilly made chocolate donuts."
Sarah held up her hand like a pedestal and unfolded the napkin. There, sitting on her palm like a priceless jewel was one of Jilly's chocolate donuts. Or at least a half of one.
"It's still warm too," Sarah bragged. She took another bite and used her pinky to wipe at a pretend tear in the corner of her eye. "Tears of joy," she sighed.
I was still an hour from my break. "How many did she make? Are there a lot? Do I sound pathetically desperate because that's how it sounds to my ears."
Sarah laughed and nearly spit out her last bite of donut. "If you go right now, you might get one of the last ones. But you'd have to run like the devil was chasing you."
I flicked a glance toward Patty, hoping she'd have enough compassion to let me go or to at least volunteer to go pick a couple donuts up. A few weeks ago she would have been waving at me to run, just like Sarah suggested, as if the devil was at my back. But she tightened her lips into a little rose shape and flipped closed the magazine she'd been reading at the counter.
"I'll be in the office for the next hour paying invoices. Watch the counter." Her shoes sounded sharply on the tile floor as she marched, filled with self-importance, to the back.
Sarah blinked at her retrea
ting back and then at me. "Uh oh. Do I sense a chill in the air?"
"Chill is a nice word for the Arctic freeze we're experiencing."
"What happened?"
I shook my head, not wanting to get into it.
"It has to do with the town's hunky new handyman, doesn't it?"
I circled behind the counter and shrugged my answer. I looked through the window and saw that there was no line in front of Jilly's shop, which meant the donuts were gone. "Looks like I'll just have to keep dreaming about those chocolate donuts like I have for the last ten years. Was it as good as always?"
"Tasty as a rainbow on a spring day."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Sarah walked back to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of milk. She carried it over to the counter.
I rang her up. "Why do you think Jilly decided to make them?"
Sarah handed me her money. "I don't know. I think she sees some of the things that used to bring this town joy coming back to life, and she decided to jump in. And I think some of it has to do with Richard's brother." She clutched the bag with the milk to her chest and batted her eyelashes. "The crazy things we do for love, right?" She paused in front of the counter, looking at me expectantly.
"If you're waiting for me to confess that I love Fynn—"
The cowbell interrupted me. Fynn walked inside wearing his heart stopping smile. "I brought you something." He held up a napkin with a donut.
I turned back to Sarah. "Then your wait is over."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fynn
Halfway through the afternoon, dark clouds had begun to pour into the valley, and nothing about them looked friendly. A brisk wind had ridden along with the storm clouds, cutting short my time on the ladder. I took a quick tour around the entire pavilion. The sanding was nearly finished. A few of the wooden slats needed replacing. then it was ready for paint.
Ella surprised me when I circled back around. She was already sitting on the steps with Boone curled up against her for a belly rub.