I thought nothing could be better than last night, but today is just as good, in a different way.
I’m starting to wonder if I’m dreaming. The car ride is one of the best two hours of my life as we drive to the edge of nowhere, Golden Oldies on the radio in the background of a conversation that never stops.
“What are we looking for today?” I ask as we pull into the first stop, a huge brown barn that has more rusty machinery and old gas station signs outside than grass.
“What I call object d’junk. Not really junk, but little cute things, unusual things.
Things I can buy for five and sell for ten.
Picture frames, mirrors, crystals, little statues, vases, and bowls.
.. A lot of that sells to college kids looking to dress up their dorm rooms with something unique.
And then vintage dishes, vases, cookie jars, milk jugs, sugar bowls—those things sell well in Pine Ridge.
I blame Gloria White-Creighton for that.
Her parties at White Pines always combine that Roaring Twenties atmosphere and elegance with modern conveniences.
I mean, she was decorating the house in the latest style back then—”
“Who was?”
“Gloria.”
“The lady at White Pines?”
“Yes. Anyway, so many of the local events are held at White Pines, and I think everyone wants a little of that Great Gatsby elegance, you know?”
“Wait, Gloria lives there now? Or was she the lady decorating it in the 1920s?”
“Both! Oh, she’s a ghost.”
I’m so glad I just parked the car. “Oh, really?” It sounds like I just ate helium.
“Sorry, did I freak you out?”
“Just a little. And she hosts parties?”
“Not everyone knows she’s there. Or some people see her and don’t realize she’s a ghost. It’s complicated.”
“I bet it is.” I open the door and pause as I get out. “Wait, White Pines. That’s near the campus on the north side of town.”
“That’s right.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s where a lot of my friends have gotten married.” She gives me a long, sweet smile and wanders away, and I follow after her like a lovesick puppy.
“Where do you want to get married?” I ask. Nothing is off-limits with her, at least not so far. We stroll into the barn-slash-antique dealer’s holding hands, our sides pressed together.
“I’m not sure. Not in Ireland, oddly enough. My mother will want that, but I don’t. I don’t feel like my life is there as much as it once was. And your family? Are they local?”
“Scattered all over the East Coast from Connecticut to Virginia.”
“And your friends from college? That research team you mentioned? I’m sure they’d appreciate not having to travel too far. I—”
“I don’t know if I’d invite most of them. There are a handful I would invite, but not the jerks who pranked me out of my vacation.”
I feel Chloe’s grip tighten, and pressure shoots through my arm. Her hair lifts in the drafty barn, but there’s no breeze.
“They did what?”
So, I tell her about what happened. That maybe it was a joke, but maybe it wasn’t.
Maybe it was an accidental miscommunication, but maybe it wasn’t.
I’m about to tell her that a lot of professors and researchers can be like that when my phone rings.
“Speak of the devil.” My phone buzzes, and when I check it, it’s none other than Dr. Hull.
“Who is it?”
“Dr. Hull, of the Not-So-Mighty-Trio of Hudson, Hull, and Camwiddie, douchebags at large,” I grumble. “They’re on vacation, and so am I. I’m not answering. I’m with my girl.”
Chloe beams up at me. “You know how to treat a lady.”
“You make me want to treat you the best I can.” I ignore the call, but the phone buzzes again.
“Why?” I hiss and hit the decline button on my screen, but the pushover part of my brain is squirming.
It could be something important, a little nagging voice tells me.
Something important that they discovered in Mexico.
Some file they’ve sent you. Or an apology after the email you sent two nights ago. ..
“Take it,” Chloe urges when the buzzing starts for the third time. “I hope it’s a nice, groveling apology.” She squeezes my hands and smiles.
“An apology, maybe, but no groveling. Guys like this don’t always treat their assistants like equals.
Or it could be because I’m new. Or they see me as a loser.
” When I think about it, maybe all of those things are true.
I’m the new guy, divorced, no kids, plays games, collects old vinyl and action figures. ..
“Whatever you’re thinking, you should stop,” Chloe hisses, and I feel a shudder run through me.
When I look at her, her eyes are wide and dark, and the green of her skin is deeper. The glow is so bright around her head and torso that I wonder why no one else is staring.
No one else is in here. In the distance, I can hear what sounds like an auction going on for one of the old rusty pieces out front.
“Answer,” Chloe intones, and I feel the word like a shove on my arm.
“Hello?” I pick up and already feel my stress level soaring. Hull’s such a snot. I walk a few steps away and count to ten as I do so.
“Lochenko, Dean Whitacker has been up my ass because you can’t take a joke! He’s threatening to come out here to see what kind of research we’re doing—turns out he’s not too far away, in Cozumel.”
“Huh. How about that?” My voice is even. “Well, I’m just out doing a little shopping. I’ll discuss any findings you’d like me to look over when I—”
“Baby, pleeease come back to bed.”
I about drop my phone in the sawdust covered floor, whipping my head around to find Chloe sauntering up to me, the most seductive tone in her voice, her hips gliding like a swan across a still lake, and her hands—her hands connect with my chest and move down, desperately tugging on me like she intends to have me right here in this barn.
“Chloe!” I hiss.
“Well. That’s a shocker. Hey! Hudson, Lochenko’s got a girl.”
“Shame. If she’s not careful, she’ll get crushed.”
Oh. Fuck.
The phone is whipped out of my hand, and Chloe hisses into it. “Don’t talk that way about my man!” Her words end with the faintest screech.
There’s a thud on the other end of the line, and then running footsteps. “Hull! Hull?”
“Oh, God,” I mouth. Chloe doesn’t seem too bothered. She’s seething, nostrils flared as she hands me back the phone.
“Lochenko? We’ll call you back. Hull fainted.”
“Oh no! Hope he’s okay.”
Chloe interjects, “He’ll be okay. But people should keep a civil tongue in their heads, hmmm?”
A second thud.
“What are you doing?” I ask, hanging up and sliding the phone into my pocket.
“Just a little reminder to behave. They’ll wake up in about twenty minutes—but the headache might last for days.
” Her smirk is impish, and for a second, I see the bewitching elf princess from the fairytales my grandmother used to read me.
“That’ll keep them off the beaches for a day or two, the selfish, lying windbags. ”
“Chloe, you just... You zapped those guys?”
She looks a little guilty now. “I wanted them to know they were interrupting your vacation and that they shouldn’t be walking all over you. That’s not so bad, is it?”
“No. No, not at all.”
“I shouldn’t use my powers like that, but... I don’t know. I was going to keep quiet until I heard him say that—that awful thing he said.”
I shrug. “I am a lot bigger than you.”
“I’m a lot stronger than an average human, but even if I wasn’t.
..” Chloe licks her lips, “When I feel you pressing into me, covering all of me at once, I just go mad. It feels like I’m safe.
Whole. Lost in you, with you.” Her hands dig into my arms again.
“There’s a back room behind the old horse stalls,” she whispers.
“Chloe!”
“I’m already close, just thinking about you sliding into me from behind.
” She looks over her shoulder and then back at me.
She turns and pulls up the long denim skirt, showing me the pale lilac underwear she has on.
With a panting breath, she pulls it to the side and lets me see her slick, swollen lips.
Well, shit. I’m already close now, too. “I still didn’t get protection. I should have. I can’t just pull out here, in some guy’s business.”
Chloe turns back around, seizing my hand to pull me along, down into the dark shadows of the barn that smells like old, warm hay and rusty metal. “Just put every drop inside of me, then.”
“Does using your powers make you horny?” I have to ask it. I regret it the second I say it, but it’s too late now.
“No, but imagining their faces when they realize that you’re twice the man they’ll ever be and that you don’t have to wine and dine me in the tropics to make me crazy about you lights my fire.”
In seconds, we’re in an old stall, hidden away behind tons of boxes, and I’m holding Chloe’s hips. Before I can even rub her, she thrusts her hips backwards, and I’m sinking into her, trying not to moan at the silken paradise now gripping my cock.
“When we’re done, want me to call Jerk Number Three?” she laughs as she rocks against me.
“God, I love you... and in case you were wondering, believe me, I know not to piss a banshee off.”
And after she calls Camwiddie, I’m turning off my phone for the rest of the best second date ever.