Page 15

Amelia---Joy

There is a knocking on my door, and it unsettles me. I roll over, the soft bed linens slipping down my body, to check my phone. No missed calls. No missed texts. Okay, then. I flop back and throw my arm over my face. Maybe if I ignore them, they’ll go away and stop knocking.

Knock, knock.

My bed is so comfy.

Knock, knock, knock.

The person slams their fist against my door louder, and more incessantly. Fuck them. I throw the covers off, slipping a sweater from the dirty clothes hamper over my shoulders, not bothering to do anything with my hair. I storm past Lennon, a noise coming from him as I disrupt his slumber. Welcome to the club, dude.

Tugging the sides of the sweater across the front of my thin tank top, I reach my front door. The person on the other side is still knocking and at this point, I’d love to knock their head into the doorframe. I grab a small knife from the entryway table, palming it quickly, before wrenching the door open.

“What do you want?! Gods forbid, I get any sort of fucking sleep around here.”

I find a pair of worn Bludstones on the stoop, and my chest seizes. My eyes travel up the faded blue jeans stretched across those firm thighs, up the tapered waist, up black fabric draped across a toned torso, before reaching broad shoulders. One hand is behind his back, holding something and the other clutches my tupperware he’d taken home the week before. I finally meet blue eyes, twinkling with mischief. His lips are pulled to one side in a knowing smirk that I want to slap off his face.

“Good morning, kochanie . Did I wake you?”

Asshole .

“What does it look like, Rhodes?” I yank my container from his hand. I rest one hand on my hip, keeping the blade hidden in my palm. I know the shorts I sleep in are riding up my thighs. “What are you doing here?” He brings his hand from behind him, revealing a small bunch of flowers. A sheepish grin blooms on his face and he ruffles his hair.

“I thought that maybe we could have an adventure today. Plus, I wanted you to have these. I don’t know which flowers are your favorite, but these remind me of you.” He pushes the flowers toward me and I gently take them. I step back into my house and he follows through the door. I use my heel to close the door behind him before making my way to find a jar for the blossoms.

“I made sure that they were safe for Lennon. I’d hate for the poor guy to get sick from them.”

Of course he made sure Lennon wouldn’t get hurt from them. I look down, noticing the pink zinnias tucked among the greenery. He had given me my favorite flowers and didn’t even know. He shifts on his feet and I look back up at him.

“So what do you say? Would you like to go on an adventure?” The sound in his voice is so hopeful and I don’t want to dim the happiness this would bring him. I use my knife to trim the stems before placing them in the vase now atop the counter.

“Where?”

“How do you feel about farmer’s markets and picnics?”

I spin, a smile toying at my lips.

“I enjoy them.” A dark chuckle comes from him and I want to bottle it, so I’ll never lose the sound.

“You aren’t making it easy, are you, Amelia?”

I pivot on my toes, reaching for a brightly colored mug from the wall. “Nope. You are the one who decided to bang on my door this early on the weekend. This is what you get as a result.”

I hear him move behind me, and while he is close, he is respectful of my space.

A growl comes from him and his voice is rough. “I’ll take this version of you every day of the week. It’s adorable and my view right now is a fucking dream.”

I focus on making the coffee and not what he’s just said. I know what he sees. I know the mess my hair is, my nipples are protruding through the thin satin of my tank top. Bras are not meant for sleeping. I know the way my sleep shorts are rumpled, and how my sweater makes it look as if I have nothing underneath because of how long it is.

“So a picnic, you said?” My voice is a whisper against the sound of the coffee machine percolating.

“Yup. We’ll go to the farmer’s market and grab a few things before heading to the park for a picnic. If we leave now, we could beat the thunderstorms being forecasted later today.”

I add a little sugar to the now brewed coffee before ducking into the fridge, grabbing my favorite creamer. Once the color is perfect, I turn and rest against the counter, crossing my feet and bringing the cup to my lips. I smile, both at the smell of the grounds but also at the way Rhodes has made himself at home. In my home.

“Okay.” One sip, then another. “I’ll go get dressed and we can leave.”

I walk toward him, coffee in hand, and his eyes track me. I feel the way his gaze heats as I near, see the way his hand reaches for me, and I feel his fingers along my shoulder. I stop, turning slightly to meet him. His hand dances up toward my neck, firmly gripping my chin as he leans in for a kiss. It is slow, intentional, and full of promises I can’t put my faith in.

He pulls back, running his tongue on his lips. “Don’t take too long, baby. Throw on whatever makes you comfortable, okay?”

I step back, nodding. I leave him in my kitchen and head to my bedroom. I quickly change, opting for a pair of blue jeans and a simple green striped sweater. I throw a pair of canvas shoes on my feet before fixing my hair into a quick ponytail. I make my way back to him, seeing Lennon on the counter, staring Rhodes down. I wait, curious to what will happen. Lennon stretches, kneading the countertop with his fluffy paws. Rhodes clicks his tongue and Lennon chirps back before curling into his arms, completely on his back like the absolute baby he is.

I see you, Lennon.

I clear my throat and Rhodes spins, cradling Lennon against his chest and rubbing his head.

“Ready?”

“Let’s go.” Lennon leaps from his hold as Rhodes stands and reaches for my hand.

/////////////

The farmer’s market was much more enjoyable with Rhodes leading us from stall to stall. It’s nestled in the midst of high-rises and concrete, a contrast to the usual bustle of the city. While I am a regular at this market, I tend to be focused and don't take the time to slowly enjoy the various vendors. The market with Rhodes? Each stall meant a pause, a conversation, a consideration of the goods being sold. While my awareness is heightened, he seems at ease in this environment. Despite the fact I’ve nestled a few of my men within the market, and I have a knife on me, I wouldn’t put it past Medina to ruin this good thing.

We each bought a few things for our picnic, Rhodes insisting on grabbing a bottle of kombucha from a local vendor, before making our way to the small park nearby. There are clouds overhead, and the air is electric with the impending rain. Rhodes has our purchases in one hand and the other is holding mine. Our fingers are interlocked and it makes me feel secure. I’m carrying a large patchwork quilt he’d found in the back of his truck. It is weathered in a way that only time can do.

“What do you think about going down there?” Rhodes points to a spot at the bottom of a small hill, secluded from the walking path, and it gives us some privacy. It is perfect.

“Looks good to me.”

He pulls me gently, the squeeze of his fingers a silent grounding of my senses. The hill isn’t terribly steep and the spot is honestly perfect. I take my hand from his, fluffing the quilt out before letting it fall to the ground. Sitting down, my legs crossed, I stare up at him. Gods, Rhodes is the perfect example of a masterpiece. He places the bags down and plops down beside me, his body brushing mine.

I reach in the bag, immediately going for the bread baked with gouda and spinach. I also grab the plum jam Rhodes had found, planning on eating the two together. I hear the pop of the kombucha bottle and turn to face Rhodes.

He’s holding two plastic cups before me, his eyes sparkling. I don’t feel like Amelia Conte, head of the Mafia. I don’t feel like The Fox. I simply feel like a woman being thoughtfully chased by a man. I shouldn’t like it as much as I do. I can’t like it the way I do, but it is what it is. Rhodes makes me feel like a normal person and I am going to bask in his gaze.

I tear a piece off the loaf, dipping it in the jam before I hold it up to him.

“Want some?” I wait, holding my breath.

He sets the cups down, making sure they won’t tip, before leaning up onto his knees and those blue eyes bore into mine. I want to shrink under the weight of his gaze, but something tells me that wouldn’t go over well.

He takes the bite, his lips ghosting over my fingers. His lips are warm and I feel my core tighten, a shiver running down my spine, as his tongue flicks against the pad of my thumb. Rhodes pulls back, a satisfied look is etched on his face. I see that the lines at the corner of his eyes are emphasized by joy. He sits back down, steepling those large hands, his eyes never leaving my face.

“Good?” I drop my eyes, focused on making my bite.

“Yes, you are.”

My eyes snap back up at him, shock lacing my face. Surely I misheard him, but the smug look on his face tells me that in fact, I did hear him correctly. I don’t know what to do with his statement, and he chuckles before grabbing a bundle of cherry tomatoes from the bag, popping one in his mouth.

We sit in silence, interspersed with tidbits of conversation. The sky has darkened a bit, the looming storm clouds lingering above us. I lay down, face up to the sky, and I feel the blanket move as Rhodes pulls his knees up to his body, resting his arms on them. A crack of lightning sparks across the sky with an immediate follow of thunder booming in the air. I turn my head to meet Rhodes’ stare and no sooner does my mouth open, rain pelts from the sky.

Raindrops splash on my skin and I wish I could stay in this moment forever.

“We should probably head back to the truck,” Rhodes says as he starts gathering our things. I stand, the both of us now soaked to the bone. I can’t take my eyes off the way his black t-shirt is clinging to him, the way his torso is a series of hard ridges tapering to his hips. I lick my lips, the taste of rain lingering on them. I wish it was the salt of him instead.

Rhodes reaches back for me, his hand flexing in question. I grab it and we start to make our way back to the truck. The grass is slick and the ground is muddy. I feel myself start to slip. One last step and I go down, my bottom landing in the mud and I burst out laughing as Rhodes follows me down. Raindrops plant on my face and the only thing I can do is laugh. I feel it bubble from the depths of my soul, building until I explode. I am fully laughing. It is a belly laugh and one I haven’t experienced in a while.

I hear a deep rumble beside me and it wraps itself around my body like a hug. I look between us and we are nothing but mud and rain. Rhodes pulls himself up, reaching down for me and pulling me to standing. My body fits into the contours of his, the wet material between us doing nothing to calm this fire his touch has ignited within me. Rhodes’ face is filled with sheer happiness and my walls start to crumble a bit more.

We carefully make our way to his truck and a wild idea takes root in my mind. “Do you want to come back to my place? Maybe clean up? I can cook us something, if you want.” I bounce my leg against the fabric seat, fully aware that it is now soaked like I am.

“Are you sure? I keep a spare bag in the backseat of clothes. I can just change if that makes you more comfortable.”

I take a deep breath. I can do this. I can do this. I face him, forcing my fingers to not move toward my cuticles.

“Rhodes, please?” His eyes leave the road for a moment as he considers me. I don’t back down from his glare, staying firm in my request.

“If you’re sure, Amelia. I’ll bring my bag in with us and then yes, I’d love for you to cook something.” His throat bobs. “I’ll let you shower first and I’ll hang out until you’re done.”

I exhale harshly before I turn to peer out the window. Don’t freak out. It will be fine. This is fine.

We reach my house and as we walk through the door, Lennon chirps at Rhodes from his perch. I stop, giving him a pat on the head and a belly rub before starting down the hall. Rhodes calls out, extending his bag to me. It is a silent ask for me to take the canvas bag with me, and I don’t mind. Taking the bag from his hand, I spin on my heel and make my way to the bathroom. Pausing to peer over my shoulder, I spot Rhodes give Lennon some affection.

Cute.

Reaching the bathroom, I strip, not looking in the mirror at my naked body and crank the shower as hot as it’ll go. I step in, the scent of vanilla embracing me and I start to work the loofah over my body.

I need the water hotter. I still feel them on me and I just want to feel like myself again. It doesn’t fucking work. I still feel their touches, the way they leered at my body.

I run the loofah along my abdomen, washing the rain, mud, and memories down the drain. I wash my hair quickly, deciding to throw a leave-in conditioner in my waves before stepping out to dry myself off. I could walk into my closet, and grab a change of clothes, but Rhodes’ bag is too tempting. The way he smells is a hug I cannot get enough of, so I unzip the bag and rummage through, finding a soft orange t-shirt and slipping it over my head.

Mine now.