We both glance over at Belle to find her nervously tapping the end of her pencil against the counter.
“Did you know female kangaroos have three vaginas? And the Romans used to clean and whiten their teeth with urine? Also, the Facebook Like button was originally planned to be named the Awesome button,” she rambles without looking up from the day planner.
“Belle, what’s wrong?” I immediately ask, concern lacing my voice as she resumes scribbling things on the calendar, still avoiding eye contact.
“Nothing is wrong. Why would you think anything is wrong? I’m fine. Everything is fine,” she replies with a tight smile.
I feel like the worst friend in the world. All this time I’ve been complaining about my own money troubles when Ariel and Belle are struggling just as much as I am, and until now, they haven’t said one word. Ariel doesn’t really talk about the antique business she used to own, and we always seem to congregate at my house, so I’ve never seen her things, but I know how hard it is to sell the items around you just to keep your head above water. I can only imagine how devastating it must be to her, knowing that these things were important to her. Things she spent years searching for and collecting. And don’t even get me started on Belle and how at twenty-five, she still lets her father run her life. She’s definitely not fine. Sure, she’s still spouting random facts off the top of her head, but for the first time, they have absolutely nothing to do with what we’re discussing, which is a huge red flag. She’s distracted and nervous and keeping something from us, but I don’t want to push her if she’s not ready to talk about it.
“The good news is, we have business coming in now and everything’s going to be fine for all of us really soon. We’re going to make a shit ton of money, and then we can go and buy all of your things back,” I say, gesturing toward Ariel before turning my attention to Belle. “And find you a wonderful place to live while also saving the town library. And it will be perfect.”
“You’re so chipper and happy now that you’re getting laid on the regular that it’s making me nauseous. I literally feel like I’m going to throw up in my mouth if you don’t get out of here. Don’t you have a date or something?” Ariel asks.
Just then, the doorbell rings, and a flutter of nerves overwhelms me.
“It’s not a date. He’s taking me to meet his mom,” I remind her, hopping down off the stool and smoothing my hands down the front of my dress.
It’s another wrap dress like the peach one PJ liked so much, but this one is light blue and doesn’t have as low a neckline. Showing off a whole lot of cleavage didn’t feel right for meeting PJ’s mother. Plus, ever since I danced in that lacy light-blue bra and thong, PJ has told me it’s his new favorite color on me.
“Damn, taking you to meet Mommy. So, you two are officially going steady now? Did he give you his class ring? Ask to carry your books to class? When’s the wedding?” Ariel jokes.
“We’re not going steady and there’s no wedding. We’re just . . . taking things slow. Honestly, I don’t even know what we are. I don’t know what I’m doing, so I’m letting him take the lead. I don’t want to just assume this is serious just because we’re having sex.”
“Honey, he’s taking you home to meet his mom. It’s serious. He got one taste of your sweet, sweet vagina and now he’s in love,” she laughs.
“Shut up, he’s not in love. No one is in love. There is no love going on so get that out of your head,” I tell her in annoyance, not even sure I believe the words coming out of my mouth.
At first, I was as shallow as every other woman out there: I was attracted to PJ because he’s hot. But with each moment I spend with him, the feeling is quickly growing into something more. Now it’s not just his looks I’m attracted to, although those are definitely a wonderful perk. I’m attracted to his confidence in me. I’m attracted to the way he challenges me and pushes me to be the person I want to be. I’m attracted to the way he takes care of me without making me feel like it’s something I can’t do on my own, but rather, something he wants to do. From the first day we met, even though I was in the process of passing out at the time and didn’t get to appreciate it fully, his natural instinct was to leap over a damn shrub to get to me before I could get hurt. Everyone in my life before him stood idly by and let me fall, but with PJ, something just tells me he’ll always be there to catch me if I need him.
“Do I look okay?” I ask as the doorbell rings again.
“You look lovely,” Belle tells me.
Her nervous expression from moments ago has been replaced with a dreamy smile as she stares at me, and it makes me feel a little less guilty.
“You look good. I’d do you,” Ariel adds with a shrug. “Don’t make an ass of yourself. And if you see any signs that he’s a momma’s boy, I don’t care how good he gives you the D, run. Run for the hills.”
“And what exactly would be the signs that he’s a momma’s boy?” I ask as I start walking backward to the doorway.
“I don’t know. If he sits on her lap and she still breastfeeds him. Those are probably big red flags.”
“Jesus, you need to stop going on Tinder dates,” I mutter as I turn and head into the hallway.
“NO MATTER WHAT HE SAYS, DO NOT BELIVE HIM WHEN HE TELLS YOU IT’S NORMAL AND EVERYONE DOES IT!” she shouts after me as I take a deep breath and open the front door.
I will never get used to the sight of this man staring at me like he can’t get enough of me. He looks me over from head to toe and then grabs my hand, yanking me roughly against his body and wrapping his arms around me.
“You had to wear this color, didn’t you? I don’t think my mom will appreciate me having a hard-on all through lunch, or dragging you into her bathroom to fuck you on the counter,” he tells me before dipping his head and kissing me.
“Oh my God, you guys are so gross,” Anastasia says as she comes down the stairs. We break apart, but PJ still keeps one of his arms wrapped securely around my waist.
“You sure you don’t want to come with us, sweetheart?” PJ asks her. “My mom makes a mean apple pie.”
My body literally melts against his and I want to pinch myself, wondering if this is all a dream. Even though PJ and I have spent a lot of time together naked in the last week, he’s also made it a point to include my daughter in things. You know, when we’re not naked. Because, eew. The three of us went to a movie, miniature golfing, and last night, all three of us curled up on the couch to watch a movie.
I found out later that night, after PJ had gone home and I went to say goodnight to Anastasia, that at some point during the evening, when I’d excused myself to go to the bathroom, he’d had a heart-to-heart with her, making sure she was okay with him spending so much time here with her and with me. He reassured her that he would do everything he could to never hurt me or her, and that if she ever needed anything, she shouldn’t hesitate to come talk to him.
Anastasia tried to play it down, telling me he was such a dork and that she couldn’t believe I liked someone so weird, but she couldn’t hide the happiness on her face when she talked about him. It made me so damn angry that all of this is something her father should be doing. Something he should have been doing her entire life—paying attention to her and making sure she felt safe and loved and included. But he never did. And it’s his loss. And I’m so thankful PJ understands how important she is to me.
“I’ve got a science project due tomorrow. Can I go next time?” Anastasia asks with a hopeful look on her face.
“Absolutely. I’ll check with my mom and see if she’s free next weekend, does that sound good?” PJ asks her as I grab my purse from the side table by the front door.
“That’s good for me, but you two better not make out the entire time or I will open up the car door and jump out into oncoming traffic,” Anastasia mutters, jumping off the bottom step and walking across the hall into the kitchen.
“I think she likes me,” PJ says with a smile as we walk outside and head toward his t
ruck parked in the driveway.
“Awww, you’re so cute. Just remember that next weekend, when it’s PMS city up in this house and she threatens to cut off your balls,” I say, laughing as he opens my car door with a horrified look on his face.
“Would it be appropriate to just buy ten cases of chocolate, open up her bedroom door, throw them at her, and then run away screaming? You wouldn’t think any less of me, would you?” he asks as I get myself situated in the passenger seat.
“That’s probably your best option.”
“Excellent. We’ll stop at a store on the way home.”
He leans into the open door and gives me a quick peck on the cheek before closing it, and I watch him through the windshield as he rounds the car and to his side.
There’s no way I’m in love with him or he’s in love with me. It’s too soon. It’s insane to even consider that idea. But when I think about how he is with Anastasia and how he is with me, I know it’s a hell of a lot more than lust. A man who believes in you and pushes you to follow your dreams, who supports every decision you make and lets you be who you want to be is a man you should never let go of.
After PJ gets into the truck and starts it up, he immediately reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together on top of his thigh as he backs out of the driveway.
I give his hand a squeeze as I stare at his profile, hoping I can hold onto him tight enough.
Chapter 26: Speaking of Sex . . .
Lunch with PJ’s mom was amazing.
As soon as we got to her house and she opened the door, I knew I had absolutely no reason to feel nervous. Considering she pulled me right in for a hug and the first words out of her mouth were to tell me she could feel that I had nice, perky boobs, clearly I had no reason to worry I might say or do anything to make an ass out of myself.
Poor PJ just kept trying to tone her down the entire time we ate the most delicious homemade lasagna I’ve ever had, followed by warm apple pie that was out of this world. But she wasn’t having any of that, telling him over and over again to stop telling her what to do.
Yep, I’m already halfway in love with Luanne Charming.
“So, at that point, I felt like I had nothing left to lose. I got up on that stage, shook my ta-tas and made more money than I’d ever seen in my life,” Luanne says with a laugh, finishing up her story of how she got pregnant with PJ her senior year of high school and what she did after her parents kicked her out, while PJ moves around the table clearing away our dishes.
“Well, even though I know it couldn’t have been easy, you did a wonderful job raising your son.” I smile at her as PJ pauses by my chair, leans down, and places a kiss on top of my head.
“And you’ve done a wonderful job with this new business of yours. PJ told me all about it, and I checked out your website last night. I’m telling you, if I was still in my prime, I’d be coming to you for a job. I worked in some awful places, but lord have mercy, was it a rush to take my clothes off and dance for people,” PJ’s mother says with a sigh.
“And I would hire you in a minute. I have to say, you look amazing, Ms. Charming.”
From the moment she opened the door I wanted to ask her what her secret was. Doing the math in my head, I knew she was fifty-three, but she honestly didn’t look a day over forty. Her skin was flawless, her jet black hair the same color as PJ’s was cut into a reverse bob with not even a hint of a gray hair in it, and her figure was something I only wish I could have at her age. She had a tiny waist, curves that I would kill for, and legs that went on for days.
“Oh, stop it with the Ms. Charming nonsense,” she says with a wave of her hand. “It’s Luanne. Or, I don’t know, Mom is fine. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
She gives PJ a pointed look and he chuckles.
“Mother,” he warns softly, his smile lightening the way he says it.
“He’s never brought a woman home to meet me,” Luanne informs me as PJ sets the pile of dirty dishes at one end of the table before coming back to take his seat next to me, resting his arm on the back of my chair. “Never had anyone serious, too busy saving the world one single-mom stripper at a time.”
I glance over at PJ for confirmation, finding it pretty hard to believe that at thirty-five years old, he’s never been in a serious relationship or introduced anyone to his mother.
He shrugs, dropping his hand to my back to rub it slowly up and down my spine.
“She speaks the truth. Never met anyone worth bringing home to her. Also never met anyone who would be strong enough to deal with her and her mouth.”
While Luanne picks up an oven mitt from the table and chucks it at him, I do everything I can to remain calm and not break down crying at the table.
He thinks I’m worth it.
“I think you two would have the most beautiful babies,” Luanne says with a sigh, my head whipping away from PJ to stare at her in astonishment. “I hope you’re having lots of sex. You’re young. You’re attractive. You shouldn’t even be here right now, to tell you the truth. You should be at home, screwing like rabbits.”
“Jesus, Mom,” PJ mutters, covering his eyes with his hands. “Now you see why I’ve never brought anyone home.”
“Speaking of sex—”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” PJ says, cutting her off with a groan. But Luanne continues like she didn’t even hear him.
“When did it become this crazy, vagina-bedazzling, handcuffs, whips-and-chains, hot-candle-wax sporting event? What ever happened to good old fashioned banging?” she asks.
“I don’t even want to know how you know what vagina bedazzling is,” PJ mutters under his breath.
“I met these lovely ladies, Bev and Bobbie, at drag-queen bingo the other night, and they taught me a thing or two. It’s fascinating the things people do in the bedroom now. Have you ever heard of a sex swing?” Luanne asks.
“Okay, I believe that’s our cue to leave,” PJ suddenly says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up from the chair.
“You’re such a sex buzz kill,” Luanne tells him as she walks us to the door.
She gives each of us a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and as we step outside onto her front porch, I pause and turn back to look at her.
“Luanne, what does PJ stand for?”
She opens her mouth to reply, but PJ shoulders past me, grabs the door handle from her hand.
“LoveyouMomgottagobye,” he says in a rush before pulling the door closed, then turning and giving me a cheeky smile.
“That was very rude. She was just about to tell me what your name is.”
Lacing his fingers through mine, he pulls me down the stairs.
“My name is PJ.”
“You’re so annoying,” I grumble as we get into the car.
The ride back to my house is silent as I stare out the window, replaying everything that happened at lunch.
“Are you okay? My mom didn’t freak you out too much, did she?” PJ asks.
I shake my head no.
“I envy you,” I whisper a few minutes later, staring out of the window at the passing landscape. “I never had that growing up.”
“Never had what, baby?” he asks, reaching over resting his hand on my thigh, giving me a reassuring squeeze.
The way he calls me baby, his voice so soft and sweet and full of concern for me, is something I don’t know how to handle. No one has ever worried about me before. Not like this. Not like he honestly cares and is not just saying it because he has to. It’s making me emotional, and it’s making me think about things I haven’t thought about in a very long time.
“Someone who loved me unconditionally like that. Someone who would do whatever it took to make sure I was happy and taken care of, even if that meant stripping at some seedy club night after night,” I tell him quietly, finally turning away from the window to stare at him as he drives, glancing over at me every few seconds to check on me as I talk. “My mom died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. I’ve seen pictures o
f her, and my dad always talked about her, but she was just an idea. Just an image in a photograph who I looked like, but I had no clue what her voice sounded like or what her laugh sounded like. He got remarried when I was ten and I thought, finally! A mom. Someone who will teach me how to cook, take me shopping, show me how to put on makeup and do girly things that my dad stayed far, far away from. She even had two daughters who were a few years older than me, and I thought I hit the jackpot. A mom and siblings.”
I pause, trying to collect my thoughts, wondering why in the hell I’m blurting all of this out to him. Watching him with his mom today just made me sad. It made me wish I’d had what he did. And it made me want him to know everything about me, the good and the bad. Even though I really do want to tell him all of this, I don’t want to see the look on his face when I do, so I turn my head and look back out the window.
“They were amazing for the first few months. We all got along great and it was like something right out of a fairy tale. Then my dad passed away suddenly from a massive heart-attack, and everything went to shit. I became their whipping girl and their slave while they spent every last penny of my father’s savings and his life insurance on themselves. We had to sell our home. It wasn’t a huge mansion or anything, but it was all I’d ever known. All my memories with my dad were wrapped up in that house, and one day, it was just gone. All of our knickknacks, all of my toys, all of the photographs of my dad and my mom, gone, and the four of us were crammed together in a two-bedroom trailer in a trailer park in the worst part of town.”
PJ rubs his palm soothingly against my thigh, and I close my eyes and lean my head back against the headrest.