Page 21 of Three Not-So-Little Words (The Lawson’s #3)

twenty-one

Brendon Fraser is a National Treasure

Drew

“ G uru,” Ronnie says while putting her lettered tiles down on the board.

I tally up her score. “That’s thirty-two with the double word score. Not bad, but I’m still winning.”

She sighs. “Whose idea was it to play scrabble?”

“Yours,” I remind her.

“Oh, right. Well, we’ve been fucking since last night, and I figured we could take a break. I didn’t think you’d be a Scrabble savant.”

“I’m not,” I tell her.

“Whatever. You’re wiping the floor with me. How did you get so good at this?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I really like crossword puzzles.”

“Seriously?” She questions. “I never would have guessed.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover,” I joke.

With a wink, she asks, “How else are you supposed to judge it?”

When I take my next turn, I score 80 points.

“Motherfucker,” she whispers. “Are there any other secrets I should know about? I mean, nothing life changing but small things like a love for crossword puzzles.”

“Hmm,” I think. “I am much more of a dog person than a cat person. I also enjoy pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.”

She laughs. “Who doesn’t?”

She plays her next word.

“Linkitude?” I read it out loud. “That’s not a word.”

“Umm, yes it is.”

“What does it mean?”

“The aptitude of linked things,” she stammers.

I laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

She pulls her t-shirt over her head, exposing her bra and panties underneath.

Her black lacy bra and panties.

She innocently grabs the straps and drags them down her shoulders until the very tops of her nipples are peeking out.

“Are you sure it’s not a word?” She asks.

At least I think that’s what she just asked. I’m so focused on seeing the rest of her tits to fully comprehend what she’s talking about.

“You know? I think you’re right. It’s totally a word,” I agree.

She grins. “So, how many points is that?”

At this point, I don’t give a shit about the game.

“One million,” I say. “What do you know? You win.”

I knock the board off the table and lean over it to kiss her.

When I pull back, I see that she’s smiling. “Man, that was easier than I thought it would be.”

“What can I say? You have really great tits.”

Her shoulders shrug. “Well, when you’re right, you’re right.”

The doorbell rings, interrupting what I’m hoping will happen.

We look at each other before Ronnie says, “Right. I forgot we ordered Chinese food.”

“Oh, yeah.”

She glances at her half-naked body. “Think you could get the door?”

“Oh, yeah. Shit. Sorry.”

I rush to open the door. I’m guessing this isn’t the first time that Ronnie has ordered from this place. Based on the look the delivery driver wears, he’s disappointed that she wasn’t the one who answered the door.

When I close the door, we each take a seat at her small table and dig into our food. Ronnie uses her chopsticks like a pro while I awkwardly paw at mine.

“How the hell are you supposed to use these things?” I ask.

Finally, she gives up, walks over to the kitchen, and brings me back a fork.

“Thanks, beautiful.” I dig in, this time actually being able to get some into my mouth. “How’d you get so good with chopsticks?”

“I learned from all my time in China. A wise old Chinese monk taught me.”

“Whoa. Really?”

Her eyes flick up at me. “No.” She laughs. “I just really like Chinese food and eat it all the time.”

“Man, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Maybe just a little.”

As we are eating, I say, “Ronnie, I have to ask you something.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“The other night when I asked you out to dinner, you seemed a little hesitant.”

She gives me a sly smile. “Is there a question in there?”

“I guess my question is why?”

“I don’t really date. Relationships aren’t something I usually do. Casual is easier for everyone. When you suggested dinner, I didn’t want it to be misconstrued.”

“I get it,” I tell her. “And I’m happy you decided to come.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Maybe you can get me to come again later.”

“Oh, that’s a guarantee. You know, Ronnie, you are unlike any woman I’ve ever been with.”

“Is that good or bad?” She asks.

“It’s very, very good. You seem to live your life in a very unique way.”

“I don't know that I would call it unique. It’s just that I think life is too short not to be having fun.”

“I think that’s a hell of a way to think of things.”

I really do. With a kid, I can’t always choose to focus on only the fun things in life. But on the weekends, I get my fair share of fun with Ronnie. In my book, that’s as good as it gets.

She asks, “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Sure. A movie sounds great.”

“What do you want to watch?” She asks.

“Anything you want. You pick.”

“That’s easy,” she says. “The Mummy.”

I laugh. “Interesting choice. Not sure that I’ve ever seen it.”

Her eyes go wide. “What? Oh, buckle up, buttercup. You’re in for a wild ride. Brendon Fraser is a national treasure.”

She keeps talking as she starts the movie. As I listen to her, I realize how happy being around her makes me.

It’s the happiest I’ve been in a long time—even if it’s all casual. Ronnie is so different and fun.

There’s this little voice in my head, though, that wonders how long it is before she’s moving onto the next fun thing.