Follow Your Bliss, page 3
I tried to avert my eyes from her chest, but she kept pulling up on that tiny tank top and drawing my attention to how her nipples stood proud of the fabric. My shorts were suddenly tight.
Kind of like my pants on prom night.
My body was only on edge because I hadn’t been this close to a beautiful woman with that little clothes on in a long time. I flexed my thigh muscle really hard and held it, trying to make the blood flow somewhere else. It was a trick I learned off the internet a couple of weeks ago, and it didn’t work too bad. But even abstaining from self-pleasure was harder than it had been a few minutes ago.
Pun intended.
I flashed her a smile. “Did you wear all black just to sneak around in my yard and dig this up?”
“Yeah, I went full stealth mode for my wild Friday night,” she laughed. She casually brushed dirt off her chest and pulled the ripped hems of her short shorts down, as if wishing they were longer. I sure as hell didn’t.
“Also, most of my clothes are still in transit from New York.”
I glanced at her again just as a mosquito landed on the pale, soft swell of her breast. I reached out on instinct but froze before I touched her. “You have a mosquito on your…” I pointed.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, slapping at it. “They’re eating me alive.”
“You must be delicious.” My cheeks heated even more than the August night called for. Why did I say that? I was thinking it, but why say it out loud? I bit my lip and started on the sixth bolt.
She laughed nervously. “I guess so.”
What did I know about her these days, besides that she was making my sister’s wedding dress and standing in the wedding? “New York. Fashion internship, right? Becca mentioned you were moving back home.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
I nodded, starting on the last bolt. Another memory of her popped into my head, from my eighth-grade end-of year party. Pretty Rose, sitting wide-eyed across from me in a circle of classmates, where the bottle I’d spun pointed unmistakably at her. Crawling toward each other at the center with friends whooping all around us, her long curls hanging down, lips parted, eyes determined.
I dropped my wrench to the workbench, the cylinder unbolted.
“Thank you so much,” she murmured. I carefully emptied the contents of the capsule on the plywood as she rifled through it. A few stuffed animals, a bracelet, lots of folded up pieces of loose leaf, a rolled-up newspaper…
“There!” She grabbed a pink enamel and gold half-a-heart necklace. “It’s a little dirty, but I bet my mom has jewelry cleaner.”
I dropped a few items back into the capsule, but a Polaroid of a dozen campers caught my eye. There in the center was middle school Rose. “Oh wow, look at you!” Just as I remembered her—wide-eyed with her long curls everywhere.
She leaned in toward me, the heat magnifying her rosy scent. I smirked. Of course Rose would smell like roses.
She grabbed the photo from me, groaning. “Oh wow, look at those bangs. Let’s put that back in the time capsule, shall we?”
I shifted through the papers. What did people think was important enough to put in? “A poem for the future, a prayer, and oh, what do we have here?” An index card with Rose’s name on it. I’d hit gold. “‘Rose Guidry’s Bucket List’?”
“Oh my Lord, let me see.” Her hand snaked out for the card, but this was too good to hand over without reading it first.
I held it up over my head, laughing. “No, I wanna read it.”
“Give it!” She swiped for it but was too short to grab it.
I started to read it.
“It’s mine, Jason. Give it!” She jumped for it, chest-bumping me and knocking a sharp pain into my chin with her head.
“Ow!” She ducked her head with her hand over it. “I’m going to die the minute after I kill my sister,” she growled.
What was I, a little kid with a crush? “I’m sorry. I’m such an ass. Are you okay?”
With a triumphant cackle she made a sneak attack for the card, but I whipped it above my head again. “Ahh, you almost got me! Waltz with a cute guy, go to Paris…how many of these have you done already?”
“I don’t know,” she shot back, “because you won’t let me see it!”
I peered into her narrowed, angry eyes. “Okay, I’ll let you see it if you don’t take it and run. Deal?”
My heart stumbled as she glared back at me, her full, rosy lips turned up at one end. Her dark blue eyes were almost purple in the porchlight. Stunning. She’d always been cute, but now she was fucking gorgeous.
“I did help you dig up my property in the middle of the night.”
“Girl. It’s not even one.” For a moment, she only stared back. “Fine. Okay. Deal.”
A corner of my mouth quirked up. Did she call me girl? “And I’m gonna hold it while you read it so you can’t run off with it.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. Can I see it now? What mortifying things did twelve-year-old me write?”
I brought the list down to her level and leaned in with it.
She slipped her hand around my forearm and gripped it, probably so I didn’t take the list away again. Thank God it was dark out here, or she’d see exactly what that simple touch was doing to me.
“Okay, I grew out my bangs.” She ran a finger with chipped purple nail polish down the list, as if trying to find all the worst ones before I could. “I’ve lived in New York City.”
But I found it first. “Number five: ‘Make J.S. fall in love with me.’ Who’s ‘J.S.’?” My heart rate went up with my eyebrows as I met her wide eyes.
Her face, already bright pink from the heat, turned a vibrant shade of red as she removed her hand. Her breath hitched.
It was totally me.
I couldn’t stop my slow smile. Didn’t somebody tell me she had a crush on me when we were in school together? This and her deer-in-headlights stare just might be confirmation.
That was kinda…cool. I felt my smile spread wider.
“It wasn’t you,” she blurted. “That was, oh, what was his name?” She scrunched her eyes shut and pressed her fingertips to her brow. “Jonathan Santos. Yeah. Huge crush on him in middle school.” She crossed her arms and fixed her eyes on me.
“Oh yeah, Jonathan Santos.” Sure it was. “The first openly gay boy in our class.”
She shrugged, her stare daring me to challenge her. “The heart wants what it wants.”
The church’s clock chimed one o’clock. She broke her gaze and started shoveling everything back inside the capsule. “I’ve kept you up long enough. Thank you so much, really. Is it okay if I come back tomorrow to bury it again?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll seal it up and bury it for you.”
“Are you sure? I’ve already put you out enough.”
“Yeah. I don’t mind.” I stuck her bucket list back into the capsule and experimentally laid the silicone seal back over the mouth of the cylinder. “I probably ought to clean this first and let it dry so it seals back right.”
Kasey had sanded me down a little each day so I wouldn’t snag under her thumb, but the last few minutes with Rose had me feeling like a fresh-hewn cut of wood, full of splinters and promise. And I didn’t want it to end.
“Do you want to come in and cool off before you go?” I asked. “Let me get you some more water.”
“No,” she said forcefully. “Absolutely not.”
She didn’t have to turn me down with such vehemence, but okay. I crossed my arms and nodded as if I agreed that was best.
She downed the rest of her water and tossed it into a nearby trash can, then edged toward the steps looking positively miserable. “You already took me to my prom because your sister made you, and you helped me dig up your yard. I’ve imposed on you enough for one lifetime.”
I laughed. “My girlfriend at the time was pretty mad when she found out.”
She covered half her face with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“No worries. She was kind of mean anyway.”
“Oh good! I mean, not good. But. Yeah. Um. I have some third quarter moon manifestations to do anyway. Goodnight. Thank you again!”
Ooh, that’s right. She was a “godless Guidry girl,” as Mom called her and her sister. Even if she hadn’t shot me down so hard it stung, Mom would never approve of me dating her.
She took three steps off my porch.
“Rose! Your gloves!”
She turned around and met me at the edge of the porch, took them without meeting my eyes, and then headed straight across the yard toward her car.
I leaned against a porch column, trying not to notice the sway of her ass in those short shorts. “Shovel!” I shouted.
She pointed her index finger up in the air, sharply changing her trajectory to pass by the statue.
“See you tomorrow night, Rose.”
She waved without looking back, got into her car, and was gone.
Chapter 3
Salty Virgins’ Club
Rose
“So you understand now why you owe me your first born?” I clasped that damn BFF necklace around Lily’s neck while she cackled at my story. She was late as usual, and I’d been standing around the outside of the venue like a creeper. I smoothed the netting on my dress’s skirt down, one of my own design.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I had no idea Jason bought the church. Here. Hold this.”
Not even a thank you as she passed me two heavy bags with her photography equipment. “Why was the stupid thing in the capsule in the first place?”
Lily laughed harder as she shut her trunk. “She told Finn LeBlanc I liked him, and I was pissed. I put it in with this snotty letter telling future Becca how I bet she regrets her actions. Oh—did you bring the letter too? I’d love to read it.”
“No! I was too busy trying not to get arrested for trespassing and vandalizing. Is that a T and V? Or maybe it’s a T and D—trespassing and digging.”
“Pssh Jason wouldn’t have done that. He’s so sweet! And you’re standing in his sister’s wedding.” Her pale green eyes got big. “Did you swear him to secrecy about the necklace?”
I exhaled a sharp, audible scoff from the back of my throat. “Yes, while I was in the middle of my T and V I remembered to beg him for secrecy. No, I didn’t think about it.”
“But that’s such a great story, oh my God. I wish I could tell Becca. She’d think it’s so funny.” She lifted a tripod from the sidewalk, and we walked in together. “We always wanted you to marry one of her brothers so she could be our sister.”
That forced a short laugh from my chest. “Where were y’all on that when I had a crush on him in middle school?” But also, no way would that’ve worked. He was a popular jock, and I was a shy nerd. I spoke maybe five words to him the whole time his locker was under mine, eighth grade year. We barely made conversation at prom. Thank God I could avoid him for most of tonight while I checked final measurements on bridesmaids.
Our heels clicked on the polished marble floor on our way into the cozy ballroom Becca’s mom rented for the night.
“Well, you’re both all grown up now.” Lily nodded toward where Jason stood using a selfie stick to take photos of himself with an elderly couple.
Okay, damn, he looked fine in that suit—impeccable fit—and it was pretty dang adorable how he was pressing a kiss to the top of the older woman’s head.
“Maybe now’s your chance,” Lily said softly. “He’s pretty cute, right?”
“I’m seeing someone. Besides. I’m not interested in anybody who uses a selfie stick, thank you very much.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge. Selfie sticks are just a tool.”
“You’re just a tool,” I muttered under my breath as Lily squealed at Becca’s approach and I set one of her photography bags onto an empty table.
“Guidry girls!” Becca danced up and hugged Lily, then me. “Rose, your dress is gorgeous. Did you make it?”
“Thank you, I did.” I put the second bag down, and when I turned back around, Becca’s fiancé, Brad, and Becca’s mom were greeting Lily. I liked to pretend Becca was my friend too, but I barely knew these people. I was only in the wedding because she had to replace a bridesmaid who would be too pregnant to fly to New Orleans next month.
Brad hugged me. “Great to finally meet you in person!”
“Mom,” Becca said, “you remember Lily’s little sister Rose, right?”
“Yes, of course. The dressmaker.” Becca and Jason’s mom adjusted her glasses higher up her nose to assess me. Her dark eyes, the same shape and color as Jason’s, glanced at the tattoo on my bare arm, my crystal pendant. Her smile faltered and became Polite, but she still came in for a slight hug. “Thank you for stepping in. Becca couldn’t bear for someone in the bridal party to walk unpaired down the aisle.”
“Hi Mrs. Betty.” Great. Let me add another mom who didn’t like me to my collection. Why were so many of them like this? I was a delightful mess.
“How long have you been making dresses, Rose?”
Translation: Are you sure you’re good enough to make my Becca’s wedding dress?
“Oh gosh, I’ve been sewing and sketching dresses since I was able to hold a needle and pencil. And I just finished up an internship at Lovelace Bridal in New York City.” Boom. Big name-drop.
Her eyebrows went up in grudging respect. “Well, if the dress itself is anything like the sketches Becca showed me, it will be just beautiful. I was just asking Becca the other day…”
Jason’s presence moved into the edges of the group like warm sunshine, greeting Lily with his brother, Alex. I tried to catch pieces of what he said while answering Mrs. Betty’s questions about sourcing fine fabrics.
“Hey, Rose.” Jason came around Lily, smiling, our shared time capsule secret dancing in his big brown eyes. “It’s been such a long time!” His dimples deepened as he came in for a hug.
His arms came low, so mine went high around his neck, my breasts pressing against all those muscles. My cheek brushed his beard as I murmured into his ear, “Thank you again and please don’t tell Becca.” He winked at me as he left the hug, and heat shot up my face. Curse my pink skin. I had to be red as a lobster. Again. And now I’d smell like his panty-dropping cologne all night.
“Hey Rose.” Alex gave me a half-hearted, bored sort of hug. Closer to my height, the youngest Soniat was the one I knew the least about, save for their parents. And I think there was an older brother off somewhere else?
“Rose, how do you like being back home?” Becca asked.
“Girl, I’m not gonna lie. It’s been rough. I’m three days into apartment hunting, and I can’t find anything in my price range. So, I’m stuck living with my mom and her boyfriend. And let me tell you, the walls in that little house are so thin—”
Mrs. Betty literally clutched her pearls as Lily laughed and Jason snorted. I bit my lip. I had to stop being so blunt when so many people were squeamish about sex.
“Oh, Steve, um, Steve snores like a freight train. Yeah. So, I’m desperate for a new place. I’d live in my car, if I had one.” I laughed awkwardly. Way to sell yourself to the crowd, Rose.
Becca turned to Jason. “Wait, this is perfect timing! Aren’t you ready to rent your apartment at the church?”
Nooo. No no no. My pulse was a tiny tribe of cannibals pounding on my ear drums, and I was on the menu. Jason nodded, smiling but not meeting my eyes. Yeah, he clearly wanted nothing to do with that.
“Oh, that’s okay,” I blurted, to save him. “I’m sure I’ll find something soon. I have headphones to drown out my—Steve’s snoring.” My face had to be a darker pink than my dress, and Jason’s eyes were sparkling with held-back laughter.
Did I have to add Becca to my shit list?
Jason
At Becca’s suggestion, Rose’s already-red face had gone wide-eyed and still, still, she wasn’t fooling me that Steve’s “snoring” was anything but code for loud sex. I could listen to her put her feet in her mouth all night.
“It’s just the old rectory.” I was damn proud of that “just the old rectory,” but I was downplaying it now, both to bail Rose out from something she obviously wasn’t interested in and to head Mom’s disapproval off at the pass. “And I’m not exactly ready to rent. We’d have to share the bathroom and the kitchen until I get those built in the church, so...”
Mom bristled beside me. Her next phone call was already playing in my head: you can’t let that Guidry girl move into the rectory and share your bathroom. Lightning might strike her when she walks into the church! And what will Misty think?
Although, a seamstress would be a quiet neighbor, and at least I knew she wasn’t a serial killer or anything. “If you’re interested, you should come by tomorrow to see it.”
Rose’s eyebrows went way up. “So, we’d be, like…roommates?”
“Don’t worry about all that tonight, dear.” Mom put her arm around Rose’s shoulder and started walking, physically removing her from the conversation. “What I want to know is, what did Becca pick for the flower girl’s dress? She still hasn’t shown me…”
Mom’s voice faded as Rose’s big eyes glanced back at her sister, who walked along with them and Becca.
Alex chuckled beside me. “Mom’s gonna give you so much frickin’ grief if you let a woman move in with you, especially one as hot as Rose, especially one of those ‘godless Guidry girls.’”
I shook my head, but my eyes followed Rose across the room. She pulled her iPad out of her bag and fumbled it, nearly dropping it. Adorable. “She says that shit around you too? I thought it was just me.”
“Mark my words. If Mom comes over one day and finds some pagan altar in your house, she’ll freak the hell out.”
I heard Alex, I really did, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Rose. She’d been beautiful, all sweaty and mud-streaked last night, but tonight she was luminous in that petal-pink dress, long dark curls falling around her creamy shoulders and arms. That sexy tattoo of roses rambling down from her shoulder.
