Cherry on Top, page 11
And then she was flashing back. This was how things had gone for her since Cherry fell asleep. She’d think about how different-slash-incredible-slash-inexplicably wonderful the night had been, and then her brain would toss her images of the previous hours and she’d relive them. And round and round and round.
The eye contact, though.
Yeah, the eye contact was a thing. A major thing for her. Ellis wasn’t great at eye contact. It made her squirmy. Uncomfortable. She could do it, sure. She’d had job interviews and dates and such. She knew how important it was to look a person in the eye. But with Cherry? And in the midst of sex? It was easy. Natural. And kind of awesome. There was something so incredibly intimate about looking in another person’s eyes while touching them in such an intimate way, and she realized that she’d never done that before. She hadn’t had a ton of sexual partners in her life—a good-sized handful, maybe—but she’d never felt so connected to the other person. Not like she had with Cherry. Not like she still did with Cherry, and she pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
She must have drifted off at some point because the next thing she was aware of was the sliver of sun peeking over the horizon, viewable out her bedroom window. She was on her side now, and Cherry was snuggled tightly up against her back. Nugget purred loudly somewhere nearby, but she couldn’t see him. She straightened her leg slightly—he was near the foot of the bed, and she nuzzled her toes up against him.
Comfortable was an understatement here.
Warmth. Safety. Comfort. She was experiencing all of it and didn’t want to move. Like, ever. At the same time, she felt Nugget get up and pick his steps carefully until he was standing near her chest and touched his nose to hers.
“Oh, hey,” she whispered to him, and he bumped her chin with his head. He meowed once to let her know it was time for breakfast, and she didn’t want him to wake Cherry up, so she carefully slipped out from under her arm and then from under the sheets and stood, surprised and proud of herself for having managed such a feat.
Still naked, she grabbed a pair of joggers and an Old Navy T-shirt, dressed quickly, grabbed her phone, and herded Nugget out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them.
Spring in Upstate New York could be hit or miss, especially in the beginning. But it was already shaping up to be a beautiful day. The morning sky was a bright blue, white wisps the only signs of clouds. Out the living room window, she could see where Mrs. Carver, the woman who lived below her, had recently filled up her bird feeder. Chickadees sang happily as they ate, and a gang of sparrows were on the ground, cleaning up the leftovers, along with a pair of hefty gray squirrels. She lifted the window and watched for a moment, enjoying their cheer, and wondered if Nugget would want to sit on the windowsill later to stare at them. Or would that just be mean?
With a shrug, she headed into the kitchen to get him his food.
She set his bowl on the floor, filled the Keurig with water, and gave her phone a quick check, scanning the overnight report Hearts and Hands texted each morning. As usual, Michaela’s night had been uneventful. Even though that had been the case every morning since settling her sister in, Ellis always had a brief moment of worry when she clicked open the text. It was a little silly, but it was regular.
“Morning,” came a very sleepy voice from the bedroom doorway. Cherry stood there in a pair of Ellis’s gym shorts and a white Nike T-shirt that was worn so thin, it left zero to the imagination, Cherry’s nipples clearly visible. And giving her their own good morning greeting.
“Well, hello there. Coffee?” She tried unsuccessfully to keep her eyes off Cherry’s breasts and got caught.
“Are you ogling me, ma’am?”
“I’m afraid I am, yes.” Ellis grinned as she pulled two mugs from the cabinet.
“Maybe if you had shirts that were made of something more than tissue paper…”
“Maybe I very strategically placed that shirt where I knew you’d grab it. You don’t know.”
Cherry laughed and crossed the room—which only took a few steps, honestly—and came up behind Ellis as she popped a K-Cup in and hit the button. Wrapping her arms around Ellis’s body, she pressed a kiss into her neck and squeezed her gently. “Good morning again.”
Something about being hugged from behind, something about feeling Cherry’s entire body up against hers, it did things to her. Sexy things. She turned in Cherry’s arms and kissed her soundly on the mouth, which, of course, called up many, many happy details from the night before, and in less than a second or two, they were kissing deeply, Ellis pushing Cherry up against the counter and bracing her hands on either side of her.
The coffee maker beeped its conclusion, and they pulled apart slowly, staying close enough that the tips of their noses brushed. “Last night was amazing,” Cherry whispered.
“I wholeheartedly agree with that,” Ellis said back and kissed her once more before reaching to switch out the coffee cups. She handed the full one to Cherry. “You have some time today? What should we do? Brunch?”
“Oh my God, I love brunch. Yes, please. Except…” Cherry looked down at herself. “I’ll have to go home and change. Can we meet there?”
“Where?”
“Wherever brunch is?”
They took their coffee to the couch, and Ellis tried not to think about how completely normal, how utterly natural it felt to spend the morning drinking coffee and listening to the birds with Cherry. It was like they did it all the time. Like they’d already done it a hundred mornings.
Nugget sat on the windowsill chittering at the birds down below. “He doesn’t seem agitated,” Cherry said, tipping her head and watching the cat. “It’s more like he’s just…talking to them.”
“Right? I was wondering if he’d, I don’t know, claw the screen or shriek at them or something.”
“Shriek at them? You haven’t had many cats, have you?” Cherry’s grin was teasing.
“Just the one,” Ellis said, smiling back.
Cherry’s phone pinged, and she picked it up from the coffee table and read the text. Her eyebrows knit into a V above her nose. She typed back quickly, then set the phone down.
“Everything okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” Cherry nodded once. “Just Shea.”
“Ah.” She was lying. Ellis knew it. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she did. She gave it five seconds to bug her, then decided she’d let it go. Cherry didn’t owe her explanations for anything.
“How about we go to Carlson’s for brunch?” Cherry’s face lit up as she spoke. “They have bottomless mimosas.”
“Listen, anything bottomless? I am in.”
Chapter Twelve
Carlson’s was never not busy.
“I’ve probably been here for brunch or lunch or dinner upward of twenty times,” Cherry said to Ellis as they stood in a small crowd by the door near the greeter’s podium. “It’s like this every time. Packed. No matter what time. And I always feel like I somehow get the last table left.” Owned by the Carlson family, duh, the restaurant had been a fixture in downtown Northwood for nearly fifty years. It was an area of the city that started out a bit sketchy when the restaurant first opened, then improved as the years went on, and was now part of Jefferson Square, one of the trendier Northwood neighborhoods. Carlson’s definitely had staying power.
As usual, when she and Ellis arrived, the place was overflowing with people, and it looked like they’d have to wait. But the greeter waved them her way, grabbed two laminated menus, and ordered them to follow her to a small table for two in the corner by the window.
“See?” Cherry said in awe. “Again. Last table left. Every time.”
“It’s clearly a tradition you need to uphold,” Ellis said as they sat.
“I mean, I can try.” She caught Ellis’s eye and it held. That sizzle ran between them, leftover from both last night and this morning when they’d gone into the bedroom to gather Cherry’s things and had ended up back in bed. Cherry shifted in her chair, felt a subtle soreness in the muscles of her inner thighs, and she liked it. A lot. She could feel a slight heat in her neck, her cheeks.
“Flashing back, are you?” Ellis asked quietly, eyes on her menu, but a smirk on her beautiful face.
“Maybe,” Cherry said, drawing the word out.
“Glad to hear I’m not alone.” Ellis flipped her menu over. “What’s good here?”
“Honestly, a better question would be what’s not good here. And the answer to that would be nothing. I’ve never had something here that I haven’t enjoyed. Ever.”
“Well, that narrows it right down. Thank you for your help.”
“Always happy to be of assistance.”
The waitress came by, looking slightly haggard but smiling anyway, and took their orders for food and mimosas. The drinks arrived only a couple minutes later, and Ellis said, “I wonder if they have a pitcher of them made up back there.”
“Can you make a pitcher of mimosas?” Cherry asked. “I guess I don’t see why you couldn’t. I just never thought about it before.” She arranged their glasses so they were next to each other, but one was slightly in front. Then she moved the little bud vase on the table so it was behind the glasses, its single daffodil giving the photo a pop of color and accentuating the color of the orange juice. She angled her camera so the sunshine from the window next to Ellis created a ray shooting through, then bouncing off the glasses. “Gorgeous,” she said quietly as she snapped the photo. She could feel Ellis’s eyes on her. She liked that.
“Always after that perfect photo, huh?” The voice came from behind Cherry and startled her enough to make her whole body flinch. When she turned her head, Andi was standing next to her, her hand grasped in Julianne’s. “Hey there.”
Cherry felt her heart jump in her chest. Like, literally felt it bang into her ribs at the sight of Andi, who was now looking from her to Ellis and back. “Hey,” she managed to croak out.
Andi stuck her hand out toward Ellis. “Hi. Andi Harding. This is my wife, Julianne.”
Ellis’s smile was warm and friendly. Of course it was. Why wouldn’t it be? She shook Andi’s hand, then nodded toward Julianne. “Ellis Conrad. Nice to meet you both.”
The waitress showed up then—thank freaking God—with two plates of food, and there was a bit of a traffic jam, given the people coming and going, and Andi gave her a sympathetic look.
“Sorry! We’ll get out of your way,” she said, then ducked under the plate the waitress held up and gave a quick wave. “We’ll talk another time.”
And then Andi and Julianne were gone, and food was on the table, and Cherry felt a relief like she’d never known. And she hated herself for it.
“Oh my God, this looks so good,” Ellis said, looking down at her Belgian waffle topped with strawberries and whipped cream. As she picked up her fork, she asked, “How do you know those guys?” She used her chin to point in the direction Andi had gone.
“Through work,” Cherry said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “You’re gonna let me have some of that whipped cream, right?” Yes, it was a massive change of subject, but Ellis didn’t seem to mind.
“Maybe they’d let us just take it home and then we can do other things with it.” Ellis winked at her.
“Maybe they will. Or maybe we can make our own.”
“Or buy a can ourselves.” At Cherry’s puzzled look, Ellis added, “Easier to spray than to spread, if you get my drift.”
And that was all it took for Cherry’s mind to run away with her, imagining being in bed with Ellis, spraying whipped cream on her naked body, then licking it off…
“You did catch my drift, judging by that dreamy face you’re making.” Ellis forked a bite of waffle into her mouth and looked very, very pleased with herself.
She cleared her throat and knew she was blushing but didn’t care. “Your drift was not hard to catch, trust me.” She busied herself by cutting into her spinach and cheddar omelet and then took a bite. Even with her brain as preoccupied as it was, she had no choice but to stop and savor the food. “Oh my God, so good.” She pointed her fork at her plate and raised her eyebrows in question. They traded bites. “I just want to say again how happy I am that you’re not against sharing food.”
“You’ve experienced the opposite, sounds like.” Ellis popped a bite into her mouth and waited for her to elaborate.
“I went on two dates with somebody once who was very much against sharing their food. Not even a taste. Two dates was enough for me.”
“I mean, part of the joy of going out to eat with somebody is that you get to taste their food, too, right?”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly.” Ellis pointed her fork at her to punctuate the statement. Then they ate quietly for a moment before she added quietly, “It’s really easy with you. You know?”
Cherry looked up and into those eyes and yes, she knew exactly what she meant because she felt it, too. The ease. The comfort. The lack of worry. Well, the lack of most worry… “I do know,” is what she said.
They ate the rest of their meals and had a second round of mimosas, and it was simple and casual and one of the best times Cherry could remember having over brunch. When the bill came, she snapped it up, ignoring all Ellis’s protests.
“Nope. You cooked for me last night, and it was amazing. The least I can do is buy brunch.”
With a sigh of defeat, Ellis said, “I get it the next time.”
“Oh, there’s going to be a next time, is there?” she asked, injecting a playful lilt into her tone.
Ellis leaned her forearms on the table and reached for Cherry’s hand. Her voice held no such lilt. “I hope there are going to be many more next times.”
So fast. God, so fast. The words shot through her head again, but somehow, the speed didn’t scare her. Just like last night. She knew they’d moved way faster than she’d ever think was okay if Shea or Adam told her they thought they were falling hard for someone in less than a month. Somehow, though, she didn’t care. Because it felt so perfect, even though she couldn’t explain how or why or whether she should be running the other way as fast as she could. It just felt right. She squeezed Ellis’s hand. “I hope so, too.”
They stood up and gathered their things. Once out on the sidewalk, Cherry was reminded what a gorgeous day it was turning out to be. Bright sun, blue skies, low seventies. They fell in step, side by side on the way to the parking lot where’d they’d parked in adjacent spots.
“You got big plans for your day?” Ellis asked.
“That sounds like you’re leaving me for today,” Cherry said and hoped she didn’t sound as clingy as she suddenly felt.
“I’m sorry,” Ellis said with a frown. “I need to go spend some time with my sister.”
“Of course,” she said and gave her head a shake. “I’m sorry. Of course. Go be with your sister.”
Ellis stopped her with a hand on her arm and turned her so they were face-to-face. She seemed to wait to speak until Cherry looked her in the eye, and then she said softly, “I had an amazing time with you. Last night. This morning.” She gave her head a shake and looked off into the distance. “I don’t know where you came from, but I’m really glad you’re here.”
And those words were everything, weren’t they? Cherry felt herself warm from the inside, and she touched Ellis’s face with her fingertips. “I’m glad I am, too.”
* * *
For the first time, Ellis understood what people meant when they said they were walking on clouds. She felt like she was floating along, her feet not touching the ground as she moved through her day. No control over the smile on her face that wouldn’t leave, and when was the last time that happened? She drifted into the Hearts and Hands parking lot like her car was also floating, a vehicle from a cartoon future.
Inside, she waved to various staff and residents and residents’ family members, all the while smiling and not looking like a weirdo. She hoped.
“Hello, dear little sister of mine,” she said happily as she breezed into Michaela’s room. Her sister was sitting in a chair today, which happened from time to time. She faced the window, her blue eyes open and unseeing.
Ellis went around to that side of the bed and pulled up a second chair so she sat in her sister’s line of sight. As she did every time, she wondered if Michaela could see her. And if not, what did she see? Anything? Her own world? Ellis’s joy slipped just a bit as she scooted her chair a little closer and brushed some hair behind Michaela’s ear. “You look pretty today. Want me to do your hair?”
Michaela always had the most beautiful hair. Long and thick and a deep chestnut brown. She was always envious of Ellis’s blond hair, but Ellis always loved Michaela’s. She arranged her chair so she was behind her sister, then grabbed the brush from the dresser and began with long, gentle strokes. Michaela’s hair had just the slightest body to it to keep it from being pin-straight, unlike Ellis’s waves. People laughed that they hardly looked like siblings at all. Different hair color, different builds, differently shaped faces—until you got to their eyes. They both had the exact same blue eyes. Same shape. Same shade of azure blue. From their mother.
Ellis could tell Michaela had had a shower that day. She smelled like soap and the cherry-almond lotion Ellis kept her supplied with. Her hair was fresh and soft and brushing it lulled Ellis into an easy, relaxed state, which let her mind drift. And of course, it drifted right toward the girl with sunset hair.
She continued brushing Michaela’s hair for a while, continued to replay memories of Cherry, and the room was quiet. Finally, she set the brush down and told Michaela she was going to go get something to drink. “Be right back,” she said and kissed the top of her sister’s head.
In the community kitchen of the house, she was making herself a cup of coffee when she glanced out the window above the sink and noticed Kendra. Just sitting and watching the yard. Thinking she’d only been scheduled for the morning, she wondered if Kendra was decompressing before heading home. With a smile, Ellis made a second cup and carried both out to the back patio.
