No Attachments

Page 5

It took the entire walk back to the hotel for everything she instigated in my body to return to normal. Once my mind was able to focus on something other than what it would feel like sliding into her, I made a decision: Forget my rules this time and make her mine. We would do the deed once and the hunger would be abated. The magnetic pull she had over me would disappear, and I would complete the job I was hired for. I just needed to work her out of my system, then I'd turn her over and she would cease to be my concern after that. I felt more in control once I had the plan worked out in my head, despite the small voice that told me I was full of shit.
Chapter 5: Freefall
Ashton
"Gettin' pretty friendly with the customers there," Fran teased after Nathan finally strolled out of the store, seemingly unaffected by the fact that I was practically in a liquid state from his actions.
"I met him last night," I admitted, sure that it wouldn't take her long to connect the dots.
"I see. Well, honey darling, I'm thinking you two missed the page on one-night stands," she said with laughing eyes as she settled on the stool behind the counter.
"We didn't even make it to the 'one-night stand' status. I passed out before we could even do the deed, which means that item is still on my list," I complained, placing my elbows on the counter so I could rest my chin on my hands. "I was an idiot to add that to my list."
"You're not an idiot. You're just someone trying to forget a tough past. I don't condone jumping in bed with a stranger, but I also know that every woman deserves the right to have at least one night where a man loves her right. You deserve that toe-curling experience, honey darling, and judging by the looks of it, Mr. Sexy Voice would be very accommodating in that category."
"But it's too late for that. I can't have a one-night stand with someone I could bump into the next day. That defeats the whole purpose. Hot sex with no attachments, remember?"
"Honey, with a man like that, one night wouldn't do you anyway. I saw the way he was looking at you."
"It's a moot point," I sighed. "I'm not looking for a relationship."
"I know you're not, sugar, but there's no reason you can't allow yourself to live a little," she said, nudging me toward the stool she had been using. I smiled grimly at her observation. She'd come to know me well in a short period of time and was able to tell I was exhausted without me saying a word.
"I'm pretty sure someone your age should be telling me I should wait until marriage or something like that," I said dryly as I sank down on the stool.
She snorted loudly. "Sugar, I've never given the traditional advice. It's probably my words of wisdom that sent my poor Earl to an early grave. That poor dear never knew what was going to come out of my mouth. I drove that boy to insanity with my naughty mouth when he was courting me. His parents nearly stroked out the first time he brought me home. I'm pretty sure his prissy mom told him to drop me immediately before I tainted their family blood. Earl wouldn't hear of it. I had him snagged hook, line and sinker. He proposed three months after our first date and we were married two months after that. He later admitted he couldn't have waited another moment to have me. Turns out, my naughty talking had him in a sexual tizzy the entire time we were dating," she said, chuckling at the memory. "His momma wore black to the wedding."
"You minx," I teased. She joked about it, but it was obvious she missed her husband greatly even though he'd been gone for fifteen years. I envied their love story, knowing something like that wasn't in my cards.
"You're no different than me young lady. I saw how that tall drink of handsomeness was looking at you. He looks at you like my Earl used to look at me. You mark my words: He wants you like a condemned man yearns for freedom."
"Are you giving me permission to have an affair?" I joked, using the duster that was stowed under the counter to dust around where I was sitting, so I was at least being a little productive.
"I'm telling you, you deserve to live a little," she said, giving me a one-armed hug before heading back to her office in the stockroom.
Contemplating her words, I pulled out my purse from beneath the cabinet. I rifled through it until I found the sheet of paper I was looking for. I smoothed it out on the counter and read over the long list. There were twenty-seven things listed on the paper, and only fifteen of them were crossed out. I realized I wouldn't be able to finish everything on the list before time ran out. My days in Woodfalls were numbered. Soon I would have to face the music and return to my old life. Maybe Fran was right. The list wasn't written in stone. One item could easily be switched out for another. I gnawed indecisively on my thumb nail for a moment before I finally grabbed a pen out of the cup by the register. With shaking fingers, I crossed out "*One-Night Stand with a Stranger" and wrote in "*Have an Affair with Sexy-Voice Nathan." This was insane. How did I go from "one night" to "affair?" When did I become this bold person? I knew exactly when I became that kind of person, it was the day I learned that life was short and you needed to seize the opportunity to live.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as Fran and I continued to stock the shelves. A steady stream of customers came in, mostly to buy items they'd forgotten in their weekly or monthly grocery shopping trip at the large store by the highway. Each of them would spend a few minutes looking for their items, and then another ten chatting with Fran and me if I was around. It was the way it worked around here. Most of the conversation was gossip, and as fate would have it, I was the main topic. It seemed word had gotten out that I had drunk enough to float a battleship with a complete stranger. Thanks to Joe's big mouth, everyone knew about my disastrous evening. At first, I was mortified that all three thousand residents probably knew that I'd been out flirting with some guy I didn't even know, but by the fourth customer, I reminded myself that this was the reason I moved here. I wanted that small-town feel, the good and the bad. Fran was a godsend throughout the afternoon. When the ribbing got too personal, she'd remind the patrons of any past deeds they weren't too proud of. It seemed like she had dirt on everyone. It was a benefit of being that old and living here as long as she had. She'd seen a lot of people grow from child to adult in this town, and witnessed many things people would now like to forget.
I was still chuckling after she reminded busybody Chrissy Dean about the time she got caught with Michael Ridge's hand up her skirt during the homecoming dance back in ninety-nine. Chrissy scurried off, mumbling about people having the memory of an elephant.
"Fran, how do you know all this crap?" I asked, locking the door and flipping the "closed" sign over.
"Darling, I realized years ago that in a town this size you need to keep track of things. When a scandal arises, everyone suddenly forgets their own past sins. After seeing a couple of the newer residents run off by gossip years ago, I decided to make it my job to remind everyone that no one is perfect. Could you imagine how boring it would be if we were?" she asked, shuddering as she flipped off the light switch, plunging the store into semi-darkness.
"At your age, shouldn't you be walking the straight and narrow?" I asked, heading out the back door with her. The question was meant to tease, but there was a layer of curiosity beneath it. What happened to us after we died was a nagging question in my head. Even though I knew some would say my curiosity was morbid.
"Honey, it's too late for me. I figure, either god will give me a free pass for my charming personality, or he'll give me the boot. It's too late to be fixin' things now."
"Heaven would be lucky to have you," I said loyally, walking down the cobblestone path with her.
"You know, honey, you don't need to walk me home," she reminded me, the same way she did every night. "My house is less than two hundred yards from the store, not two miles," she added.
"I like walking you home, so there," I told her, not mentioning the fact that it made me feel better to keep an eye on her while she navigated the uneven path in the dark. I knew it would piss her off if I admitted I was afraid she'd trip or something. I knew how much her independence meant to her.
"Do you want to stay for dinner?" she asked, opening her front door that was never locked.
"Not tonight. I think I'm going to hit the sack early."
"Any big plans tomorrow?"
"Well, since it's Sunday, and we're closed, I'm going to cross another item off my list. I need to kick it into high gear if I'm going to finish all the items," I said with a slight edge of panic in my voice.
"You'll do it. Which one are you doing?" she asked, although I could tell she already knew.
"The fear one," I answered, making busywork of searching for my car keys in my purse.
She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. It was the one item on my list she didn't approve of. She could handle the one-night stand or her suggestion of an affair, but conquering my fear of heights was a different story.
"You know I need to do it," I reminded her.
"There's plenty of ways to conquer that fear without jumping off some damn bridge. I'm sure your twins are all in," she retorted, referring to Tressa and Brittni.
"Brittni is. Tressa is deathly afraid of heights and claims she has no desire to ever conquer her fear."
"She's a smart girl."
"You didn't think that when she pranked your least favorite customer last week," I threw out, finally finding my keys.
"Well, that's because sometimes that Tressa acts like she's still in high school. Besides, anyone with a brain knows it's not the best idea to wrap a store toilet bowl with Saran Wrap. Most people who use our bathroom really got to go, and having their pee puddled in their shoes is not good. I could not for the life of me figure out why there were wet footprints trailing from the bathroom door."
"It was gross," I laughed. "But you have to admit it was pretty funny how the minister's wife, Shelly, scurried out of the store thinking she had missed the toilet."
"That was the only highlight of the whole incident," Fran replied, chuckling along with me. "She's always judging others whenever they look anything less than perfect."
"Exactly, which is why Tressa hatched the idea."
"So, you're telling me Shelly was the target all along?" she asked, quirking her eyebrow at me.
"Um, yeah," I stammered, knowing I'd just given away my part in the prank.
"And how did dear Tressa know that Shelly would be the one to use the toilet?"
"I might have told her. Come on, you have to admit, her catty remarks every time she uses the bathroom get old.
"How did you know it would be her who got pranked?"
"Because she comes in every week after her ladies' tea..." My voice trailed off as I backed away from the door before I could implicate myself further. "I'll see you on Monday," I called over my shoulder, hurrying down the path.
"I knew you were involved," she called after me before closing her front door.
I laughed at her words as I approached my car. I threw my purse over on the passenger seat and climbed in behind the steering wheel. I was backing up my car when some kind of movement off to my right startled me. Whipping my head around, I saw a lone runner making his way down Main Street. Woodfalls had its share of walkers, but there really weren't any runners, and definitely not any like the one who was currently crossing the street in front of me. Ordinarily, I would have scoffed at a man running without a shirt on, wondering what he was trying to prove. Nathan, though, was a different story with his glistening pecks and rock-hard abs. It would have been sinful to deprive the female population the opportunity to gawk. I sat motionless in my seat, watching as he ran by my car window. My heart thundered in my chest as I watched a trickle of sweat track its way down the deep contours of his well-muscled back, disappearing inside his shorts. He was long gone by the time I shook myself out of my fawning comatose state enough to drive home. I felt feverish. Glancing in the mirror, I saw that my face was flushed.
"God, you're a mess. What are you going to do if you ever see him naked? Spontaneously combust?" I asked my reflection.
***
The ringing of my cellphone woke me the next morning. I fumbled around my nightstand trying to find it while still keeping my eyes shut.
"Yeah," I croaked into the phone, my voice still heavy with sleep.
"Are you sick too?" Brittni's voice croaked back at me, although she sounded much worse.
"No, I was just sleeping. You're sick?" I asked the obvious. She was either sick, or she'd swallowed a very old frog.
"Yeah, my mom made Dr. Baker come out and check me. He said it looked like strep to him. I bet I got it from my damn students," she complained. Brittni subbed at the elementary school while she worked on getting her teaching degree. I found it ironic that she insisted she wanted to be a schoolteacher, but didn't seem to like kids all that much. Tressa told me the dislike thing was actually an act. "She may be gruff, but she has mad skills when it comes to teaching," she had stated.
"Well, crap. I'm sorry you feel crummy," I offered, trying to hide my disappointment that I wouldn't be able to cross an item off my list.
"I'm sorry I'm bailing on you."
"It's no biggie. Just get better," I reassured her.
"Okay. We'll go when I get back from that stinking training thing next week," she promised before hanging up the phone.
I sat up, contemplating my list in my head to see if I could tackle one of the other items. Coming from hot-as-hell Florida, most of the items on my list centered around winter-related activities, with the obvious exception of the activity that possibly involved Nathan. A mental picture of a shirtless Nathan flashed through my head, making me jump out of bed abruptly. There was no way I was going to mope around all day. It was bad enough that thoughts of him had kept me up tossing and turning half the night.
I made my bed hastily, and threw on a pair of cutoff shorts and t-shirt with a hooded sweatshirt over it. Ten minutes after hanging up the phone with Brittni, I was headed for Mason Bridge over on the county line. The air had a nip to it, making it clear that summer was over and fall was right around the corner. It felt glorious knowing it was September and already cooling off. In Florida, it would be several months before they saw similar temperatures. After a lifetime of missing real seasons, I was greedy for them to begin. I wanted to see the barren trees once they shed all their current multicolored leaves. I wanted to make a snow angel and build a snowman. All three were items on my bucket list that would take little effort as long as I was still here. I just needed enough time.