Grit And Grind (Dirty South Book 1) Page 9

  “Don’t go breaking her heart, Chris. If you got a career to chase, you’d better let her know. She seems really nice. Don’t love her and leave her like all the other girls in all the other cities.”

  “Well, that’s not fair. I never really cared this much about any of them. Besides, they were different. They weren’t … ” Chris stammered. “They weren’t Klara. There’s something about her. I just feel like she’s special. I don’t want to mess it up. I’m trying to make it work. That means, slow down on my scheduling, please. I’ll be needing as many stops in Memphis as I can make.”

  Marcy was happy for Chris. She’d wondered if he would ever actually put in any effort into dating a woman instead of just frolicking around with them on his trips. Maybe he is scared? Maybe he is just too busy with his career? Whatever it was, he wasn’t a spring chicken anymore, and she worried about his future and how much longer he could be alone.

  “Of course she’s special. She probably has more brains in her pinkie than those other women had in their heads. Put together! She’s also quite the character. She had me laughing until I almost wet myself, telling me about how y’all met and you playing Mr. Hero. Really, I wouldn’t expect less from you. You’re special, too, you know. You deserve to be happy, Chris. And loved.”

  “I didn’t say I was in love. No one said anything about love! I just met her. It’s just limerence.”

  “Limer-what? What’s that mean?” Marcy was baffled. She’d never heard the word before, but a feeling of dread had come over her as soon as he said it.

  “It’s like love but without the love part. That might complicate things,” Chris explained.

  “Oh, honey. Really? Does she know you feel this way?”

  “Told her yesterday when we decided to keep this going,” Chris answered happily. Proud of himself for stating his feelings.

  “Do me a favor. If you ever mention an L-word again, to any woman, you’d better mean it, and it’d better not be this limerence hullabaloo.”

  “Why is that a bad thing?” The blood drained from Chris’s face as he started to second-guess himself.

  “You think a woman wants to be told, I limerence you, or that you basically aren’t comfortable enough with her, or yourself, to let yourself love her. Like there’s something wrong with either or both of you?”

  Marcy was losing patience. Is Chris really this dense in love? She needed to have a long talk with him.

  “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t have told her? Because it’s the truth; it’s how I feel.”

  “Have you been in love before, Chris?”

  “No. Never.”

  “Then, how do you know that’s not how you feel? Maybe what you’re trying to label as limerence is really love.”

  Chris thought about what she’d said. How would I even know what love is like? I wouldn’t.

  “I don’t want to complicate things. You know, in case it doesn’t work out long-distance. Besides, we still don’t even know each other much. She could be a felon or a secret society witch. Who knows?”

  “You know, I believe you know exactly how you feel. And, when you love someone, you make it work. No matter what. So, if that happens, if you do quit the limerence horseshit and come to your senses and let yourself feel something … more … then you’d better be sure before you commit. Because I see the look in her eyes when she talks about you. That’s not limerence.”

  “You do? What kind of look?” Chris had a lump in his throat.

  “She’s coming back out. I’ve gotta go! I’m assuming you’re coming back, so I’ll see you soon.”

  Marcy hung up before he got to ask more questions. He wondered if he’d hurt Klara’s feelings yesterday.

  Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her how I felt. I just thought she felt the same, and maybe it would help her internal struggle, too. But does she even have an internal struggle? Am I projecting? He needed to stop reading Psychology Today, or maybe he should read it more. It helped with his novels’ characters, but he guessed it could benefit him, too.

  By the time he pulled into his driveway and made his way out back, Klara and Marcy had already set him up a beach chair.

  “Look who decided to step away from the office!” Marcy said as she passed him a beer.

  “Yeah, well, we can’t all live the glamorous life of spending our days on the beach, day-drinking.”

  “Says who?” Klara teased.

  Her hair was pulled back in her infamous sexy bun. Wisps of curls danced in the wind, framing her face. Chris noticed how happy she was here. He could watch her smile like this all day long.

  “Hear, hear!” Marcy held up her beer in response to Klara.

  “I see you’ve met Marcy. Marcy, Klara. Klara, Marcy,” Chris said, making the proper introductions lest Klara think he was some type of rude jerk.

  “We know; we know. We’ve been best friends for, oh, about six hours now. Come sit.” Marcy motioned to the empty beach chair.

  He could tell the two ladies were well on their way to Drunk Town. Klara, who he had seen only tipsy at the hotel, was flushed, as if she had just stepped off his ride. Her cheeks blushing, her lips parted. Marcy, on the other hand, was sweating like a hog roasting over a firepit. Her head rolled back, and her feet dug into the sand. She was already in Drunk Town. She was the mayor of Drunk Town.

  What have I gotten myself into now?

  “Did you know that Marcy here told me about your gator?” Klara asked, eyeing Chris and suppressing her giggles.

  “My what?”

  “Your gator, Chris! You know, Tom?”

  “Oh, sheesh, Marcy. Yes, I had a stuffed gator named Tom, growing up. Still have him actually.”

  “In your nightstand,” Klara finished.

  “To be fair, Marcy put him in there. But he does warm up my lonely nights.”

  “Ha!” Marcy chimed in. “Lonely? Chris could wink and have any woman within a fifty-mile radius here.”

  Okay, now, she was really drunk. Chris prepared himself to do damage control.

  “But he doesn’t,” she continued, winking at him. “Chris is a gentleman. And, if going back to school has taught me anything at my old age, it’s that there isn’t a lot of them left. I’d say you found yourself a good one.”

  “Hear, hear!” Klara echoed, grinning from ear to ear. “But I think he found me.”

  “Touché,” Marcy toasted. Her beer held in the air, arm swaying like it weighed ten pounds.

  “So glad I did. And I’m so glad I saved you from that farming life with Farmer John. You know how hard farming is on the body?” Chris said, throwing back his beer and letting himself join in on the party.

  Klara and Chris bantered back and forth on how the story went, not noticing that Marcy had nodded off until they heard what sounded like a constipated dinosaur. The noise jarred them both as they looked over at Marcy’s head, lying back, her mouth open, eyes closed. Her snores were startling and downright terrifying.

  “Is she … is she okay?” Klara worried about the older lady. She had never heard such noises before. There was snoring, and then there was this, whatever it was that Marcy was doing. Summoning a mythical creature from the dead? Regurgitating a human hair ball? Was she in pain? Did she need help? An exorcism?

  Chris couldn’t help but laugh. “Nope, this is just Marcy. She could wake the dead, I know!”

  He got up and gently nudged her, helping her to her feet. “Wakey-wakey! Let’s go get you down for a nap, Granny!”

  “Granny!” Marcy muttered. “I’ll show you a gran—” But then she decided to just stop right there. She was way too old and way too drunk to keep going. She took Chris’s arm as he led her back inside.

  “Back for a swim in just a minute!” Chris nodded at Klara.

  It wasn’t the first time he had helped Marcy, but then again, she had done it for him plenty of times, too.

  “Can I help?” Klara offered, her expression still worried.


  Chris shook his head and continued on into the house. He led Marcy to the guest room and set her up on the bed. Plumping her pillow, getting her a glass of water, and making sure she was comfortable before he left. She had already fallen asleep before he turned to go.

  Chris grinned mischievously. Now, he had Klara all to himself.

  The sand was scorching hot on his feet as he ran frantically down the beach, passing Klara, and he jumped right into the waves. Hollering like he had just won the lottery because, in a way, he had. Klara laughed at his antics as he motioned for her to join. She stood up, untied her robe, and dramatically let it fall to the ground. Chris stood as still as a statue. His eyes lingering, his mouth watering. Klara knew she was teasing him. She’d brought her most erotic bikini just for this moment. Something she’d bought in one of her rabbit-hole late-night internet adventures but not yet dared to wear anywhere.

  The black string bikini barely covered any of her. It was about as good as putting on two pasties over her nipples and a Band-Aid over her slit. But it did the trick, obviously, because Chris looked about two seconds from drowning if he didn’t snap out of it and watch the waves that were getting rougher and rougher. She slowly sauntered over to him, looking up and down the beach to make sure no one was around. Klara unhooked her top and cast it aside. She giggled as she heard Chris gasp over the sound of the ocean.

  “You’d better be coming over here to put those lips on me! I need those lips on me. Let me taste the salt on your neck,” he called to her as she entered the warm water and made her way to him.

  He slipped his hands under her bottom and held her tight as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. They both bobbed up and down with each wave. His cock stiff against her. Their tongues exploring each other’s mouths.

  He pulled back to look at her. “You’re so damn beautiful, Klara. Do you know that? You aren’t even of this world. You’re so fucking gorgeous, and I’m so fucking lucky,” he said as he roughly kissed her.

  Klara’s nipples hardened against his chest as the bobbing waves rubbed his cock against her clit. She sighed into his mouth as she rolled her hips back and forth, rubbing herself against his swollen cock.

  “You’re so damn good. So damn good,” she muttered, her breaths starting to stutter.

  He sensed she was getting close to orgasm, and he hadn’t even done anything. The fact that she was getting off from just grinding against him made him even more turned on. He grabbed her by the hips and moved her quickly up and down the length of his cock, making her gasp. He could feel her legs twitching as they wrapped tightly around his back.

  “Fuck. Oh, fuck yes. Chris, I’m … I’m … ”

  He pulled her in harder, faster. Both of them were breathing heavily, still bobbing and splashing in the waves.

  “Kiss me when you do. I want your lips on mine the second you come.”

  Klara nodded her head, barely able to think enough to even lift her head. She could feel her pulse running through her feet, and that was when she knew she was about to lose all control.

  “Ahh—” she cried out.

  As soon as he could, he put his mouth on hers, muffling her gasps, while he still rocked her back and forth against him. Her hands twitched. Her feet twitched. Her legs twitched. Her hips were pulled in tight against him as she hung on to him like he was a lifesaver.

  Klara slowly kissed him, her eyes still closed in a state of ecstasy.

  “Come on. Let’s go inside and get you taken care of,” she whispered into his mouth. She would do anything for Chris right now. She was putty in his hands.

  “Get me taken care of? I have all the time in the world for that! My pleasure is your pleasure. I think I want to stay here a little longer, holding you. I’m putting this one in my memory bank.”

  Klara was putting their rendezvous in her memory bank, too. She had never done anything like that before. In the middle of the ocean, in public—again. Thankfully, the beach was secluded. She guessed not many people walked down to the far end where his house sat, which was a good thing because she could get used to hot, public-beach sex with Chris.

  Damn it, Chris. Why do you have to be so damn perfect? Except for that whole emotionally-unavailable thing with the limerence and all.

  She wondered if his caution had anything to do with the way his parents hadn’t been around much. Marcy had alluded to the fact, but she never confirmed anything.

  Poor Chris, she thought. He deserves all the love. Fuck this limerence bullshit.

  Klara shivered.

  “You cold?”

  “Just a little,” Klara lied.

  She wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him that she was a big dumb-dumb and believed in love at first sight. At least, she did now that she was looking at him. But, instead, she let it go. She didn’t want to be that crazy woman and scare away a good thing. His rejection was the last thing she needed.

  “Come on; let’s go inside, take a hot bath, order some pizza, and get some writing done before bed. Plane leaves around two tomorrow, so we won’t need to be up too early. I’ll make you breakfast.” He smiled.

  I mean, come on. Can this man get any more perfect? Klara mused.

  “Well, damn, you sure do know the way to my heart. That sounds perfect.” And she said it. She said the word heart, and she put it out there. She wanted to cover it with flowers and big flashing signs, throw some glitter on that shit, and make it sing. Maybe then he would understand how she felt.

  Chris wondered if she’d meant that. He got the impression that the way to her heart was through her perfectly organized calendar, whispering dirty and filthy things into her ears, six-pack abs, and cocktails. Can she really be as easy as pizza and a night in? He was deep in his thoughts when he realized what she’d really said was that he knew her heart. That international symbol of love.

  Is she hinting at her feelings? Or does she really just want to crash and be lazy tonight? Or maybe she wants to go party but doesn't want to make me feel bad for my lame suggestion of staying in?

  Nah, that wasn’t her. He knew. He had seen it in her eyes when he came home from work today. The way she looked up at him, even as he was disheveled in his button-down and trousers. Sweating like he had in the humid heat back in Memphis. She was deep in the limerence feels, too. It couldn’t be love. She was way too smart for that. Klara was going places, and he didn’t want to mess that up for her.

  But …

  He shook the thoughts from his head. Love. He wasn’t sure he had ever loved. He never stayed still long enough to let that happen. He’d had deep feelings for some of his flings, but they never lasted. He never let them. Sure, he wrote about love plenty. But that all came from the books he’d read. Not from experience. The sex, well, yeah, that was totally from experience. He had no trouble with that. But the icky, sticky, gooey, gushy stuff? No clue about it.

  He ran the bath for them both, drowning out Marcy’s snores all the way from the other side of the house. He didn’t know how she did it. She must have four lungs. The poor lady. He wondered how her husband had slept with her when he was alive. He’d died ages ago, when Chris was very young. He didn’t remember much about the man, except that he always had a piece of candy in his pocket. It was those almost-metal-like hard candies that old people liked, but it was still candy, so Chris never turned it down. Besides, it would last him all day.

  “Does she stay here often?” Klara said as Chris helped her into the warm bath.

  “Who? Marcy? Not too often. Usually only when I’m gone on the weekends. I just forgot to tell her I was coming this weekend. Last minute and all.”

  “She seems lonely.”

  “Really? Why would you say that? Did she tell you she was?”

  Klara picked up on the worry in Chris’s voice.

  “No, not exactly. She talked about her kids being all grown up and having their own lives these days. She said she still sees them at school, but she thinks they avoid her, being the old lady on
campus and all. She also talked about her late husband for a while. She really loved him. What they had sounded … special.”

  “I don’t remember him much. She’s never even mentioned him much to me. I always thought it made her too sad to talk about him, so I didn’t push on questions. I’m surprised she opened up to you,” Chris said, grabbing Klara’s foot and massaging it.

  Klara groaned and sank deeper into the warm water. Chris had magic hands. Anytime he touched her, she melted.

  “I don’t think she is sad about it. I think she wanted to talk about it. He seemed like he was her soul mate. Like a twin flame, she said. Have you heard of that? The book she is working on is about twin flames.”

  “Yeah, I know what a twin flame is. Do you believe in all that? Soul mates? Twin flames? True love? Love at first sight?”

  “The princess in me would say, hell yes. I can belt out every Disney song like any other fangirl. Someday, my prince will come and blah, blah. But my head says … or said … no. So, I guess I don’t know.”

  Chris caught the past tense. He noticed her eyes staring into the water. She wouldn’t look up at him as she kept talking. His thoughts were lost in her voice.

  “What about you? Ever been in love?”

  Chris suddenly grew even hotter. This was a conversation he wasn’t sure how to get out of. If he told her the truth, that he had never loved, she would surely think something was wrong with him. At his age and never been in love? He might as well tell her he had a hidden collection of Ronald McDonald paraphernalia or a fetish for dirty socks. That would send her away just as fast as having commitment issues.

  “I—”

  She waited in an awkward silence. Prompting him to continue. She had him trapped in the bathtub.