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“That's fine.” I can't keep the smile off my face. “Leave early if you need to.”
Renee smiles back at me with a tempting look and leans forward to whisper, “Look at me. Already getting perks from fake dating my boss.”
The low, sweet tone of her voice makes my cock so fucking hard so fast that I'm short of breath and lightheaded from all the blood moving to my dick so damn fast.
She smirks at me and then bites down onto her lower lip. Oh she knows exactly what she’s doing. It takes everything in me to stand perfectly still and keep my hands gripping the edge of the bar top.
I can feel the rest of the bar behind us with people chatting at their tables and the music playing at the perfect volume for the afternoon. A guy at one of the tables laughs, but Renee doesn't look away from me. She’s caught in my stare and waiting for a reaction.
“Yeah,” I say. “I guess you are my little tease.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, and then she walks toward the back, glancing back at me like she wants me to follow. She makes it past the swinging door and I’m barely though when she lifts up on tiptoe and nudges her nose against mine. Renee brushes a kiss to my lips, and it takes all my concentration not to put my hands on her waist and pull her in close so I can feel her.
She gives me another soft kiss, and I kiss her back, deepening it. I let a rough groan leave my chest, more than aware that if someone came through that door we’d be caught in the act. I let myself taste her one more time and then straighten up.
She doesn’t say anything, only stares up at me like she has something to say but doesn’t. The blush settles into her cheeks and looks damn good. Fuck, I wish we weren’t working right now ‘cause I know just what she needs. She takes a second to adjust her uniform, then steps around me to head back.
“Hey, Renee?” somebody at one of her tables says the moment she walks out in front of me. “I'm on my way,” she calls.
I have to pretend to ring some stuff up at the register so I can collect myself before I face the bar. There's not much to do, but I can't think of anything but Renee and her soft lips and the way she tastes.
Renee
My aunt lives a town over, in the same town where my mom and her family grew up. Her house is a lot like the house they lived in back then…it hasn’t been updated much at all. In this town, most of the houses were built around the same time, by the same company. My aunt's is a one-story with a front porch and a brick walkway and is on a street with ten other houses that look the same. The only difference between the houses is some people chose concrete walkways, and some people chose different shutters for the front window. Some in blue and others in gray.
There are so many memories I have of this place. Back when I was small and my grandpop was alive there were happy times, but then he died and everything changed.
I park by the curb after the drive and take a few deep breaths. It’s only when I go to turn the ignition off that I realize I never even turned on the radio. I stare at the windows covered by blinds and prepare myself for what’s to come. My aunt's house may be old, but she's kept it up well over the years. It’s just her, and she says she doesn’t need much. She loves the house and the memories it holds. I love her so darn much and I wish I got to see her more. I wish I got to see her on other occasions.
The snow from last night is already starting to melt in patches in the front yard. She has a corner lot with a tree in the front and the side of the house. In the summertime she’ll have plenty of shade and in the fall plenty of leaves to rake up, and the house will look like it's out of a movie about small towns.
With a steadying breath I get out of the car, letting the door shut with a loud thud, and go up to the door and knock softly. My car keys jingle as I toss them in my purse and then brush my hair back from my face. I don't have to wait for anybody to answer. I open the door and step inside; they know I’m coming. It smells clean and cozy like the vanilla candles she likes to burn while she has her morning coffee. For a small moment, I’m hit with nostalgia, the good kind. But the moment doesn’t last long at all.
“Hi, I'm here,” I call into the house.
“We're just in here, Renee,” my aunt answers. Her voice comes from the living room that's through a doorway to the left of the entryway. I take off my boots, hang up my coat on the iron hook that looks like a branch with a bird sitting on top, and pad into the living room. The hardwood floors creak under my weight.
“Hey, Mom.” She's on the couch with my aunt, with my aunt's arms around her, and she has a black eye. Emotions choke me for a moment as my mom looks back at me. Her eyes are filled with a look I’ve seen before. Defeat, betrayal, sadness, but most of all like she’s sorry I have to see it.
As tears prick my eyes like I knew they would, I lean down to give both of them a hug. My aunt pretends not to see how emotional I get and tells me she’s happy to see me. My mom wraps her arm around my waist and hugs me back while my aunt does the same.
After a long hug, I pat them both on the back and straighten up. “Should I get us some coffee? Tea?”
My aunt wants coffee and my mom wants tea, so I head into the kitchen. I know my way around just fine. It isn’t the first time and I’d be naive to think it’ll be the last. The kitchen is small and a little dated, but it's squeaky clean and well-organized. I find tea bags above the stove and put water on to boil. A pot of coffee that seems pretty fresh is waiting on the burner of my aunt's coffee machine.
Over the clacking of mugs in the cupboard, I can hear their voices talking quietly while I wait for the water to boil and pour it over the tea bag. I try not to eavesdrop, even though I know my mother will tell me if I ask. She doesn’t keep it from me anymore. She hasn’t for years. As I try to count how many times we’ve been in this very situation over the last twelve years, I steep the tea and add a little milk and sugar. Just how she likes it. Then I pour my aunt's coffee, also with a splash of milk. Just how she likes it.
I can't decide between coffee and tea and finally settle on tea. While it steeps, I bring my mom and aunt their drinks. They're still sitting close together on the couch, and my mom is wiping at her eyes.
My throat gets tight with frustration, and I go to get my own tea. By the time I get back to the living room and settle into the chair across from them, my mom's eyes are dry again. I can tell it's not the end of her tears, though. She has a dimple in her chin and the corner of her mouth keeps wavering up and down.
I hate him. I hate my father more than he’ll ever know. More than I could ever express. I hate even more that she loves him. Love is for fools.
My mom alternates between deep breaths and sips of her tea.
“I'm really doing it this time.” She tries to sound confident but her voice hitches in the middle of her sentence. “I am,” she says, and nods like she wants me to nod along with her. I’ve heard it so many times before though and I used to believe it. Now I just prepare for the next time because there’s no hope left.
My aunt rubs at my mom's shoulder, careful not to jostle either of their drinks. “You can stay here as long as you want. You know that, right? You and Renee both know that?”
