Mixed Connection (Cypress Lake Reunion #1)

14. Chapter 14

14

Lo

I am so ready to get on the course!

Our carriage awaits. Posthaste!

On another regency romance kick, huh?

I wake slowly, enjoying the warm comfort of my plush blankets. Stretching my legs and wiggling my toes, I feel the wonderful soreness between my thighs from the night before. Bringing my arms up above my head, I stretch them in an attempt to fully wake my body up. The heat is becoming almost too much, to the point that I’m beginning to sweat. Did I forget to turn the air conditioner down last night? I always sleep better when I notch the air conditioner down. I’d much rather bundle up than to be a sweaty mess… like I am, right now.

Maybe I was too caught up with Jameson, the memory of him feasting on me comes to the forefront of my mind; if I wasn’t so warm I’d be snuggling deeper into this oven I call a bed. I’m toasty, way warmer than I normally would be.

Throwing the covers back, I attempt to roll out of bed, but corded muscles flex around my abdomen as they pull me tighter. A different type of warmth constricts me. Flashes of the night before flicker through my head, reminding me of Jameson stretching me in ways I had only imagined during hot showers, and then he stayed with me after I shared about my parents, holding me for the rest of the night. The memories make my eyes misty. When did I become such a sap? Jameson’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around me, my shirt is bunched up around my waist and his hand rests low on the softer and thicker area of my belly. His other wraps around the front of my shoulders in a possessive hold that causes butterflies to swarm within my stomach. If I could wake up this way every morning, I most definitely would.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is deep and raspy from sleep. Hearing his morning voice short circuits my brain and I consider never leaving this spot.

“Just going to the bathroom. I need to cool down a bit.” Why am I blushing in my own damn bed?

He smirks at me then. “Hurry back, I’m sure your day is just as busy as mine and I want to hold you for as long as I can.” Fuck that’s sexy, and I quicken my pace to do just that.

Since he is going to wait for me, I may as well stick to my normal morning routine—we can leave my place together. I turn on the faucet to heat the water so I can wash my face. It’s the only way I’m able to fully wake up before splashing cold water on my skin to cool it down. The cold water is a shock to my system but it is also incredibly refreshing. I finally take a moment to look at my reflection and realize just how puffy my face is from crying all night.

I never share about my parents, the only people I’ve ever talked about them with are Paloma and Janelle. I was not planning on sharing so much with Jameson last night. My parents just weren’t around, and though I love them and think they were trying their best, they weren’t there for me. Their work was always their first choice. I know they loved me, deep down, I know they did, but I needed more than that. I needed their physical presence in my life more than their money. I don’t fail to recognize how well their financial prowess helped me out in the end, but the fact remains, they weren’t there.

Walking in the door to my grandmother’s house feels wrong today, but I can’t continue to stare at the door like a fool. I need to cross the threshold and just go inside. Rooted to the front steps, I eye the police cruisers parked in the driveway. I hope she’s okay and whatever this is is some kind of misunderstanding. I take a deep inhale, allowing the exhale to relieve some of the tension I built up in my body from simply standing at the door. Finally putting my key in the lock, I turn the knob to see my grandmother in one piece and I feel relieved that all seems well. Maybe all the worry was just in my head.

“Gran, you’re okay. I was worried something happened when I saw the cruisers out front.” Setting my backpack down, I squat to untie my shoes before toeing them off at the shoe rack. “What’s that all about?”

When I take a moment to look into her eyes, I can tell she’s been crying. “Oh honey, we need to talk. Will you come sit down?” She pats the couch before standing, my gaze following her movements as she turns her head towards the kitchen, her hand outstretched to me.

“Thank you ma’am for the water.” The officers come out of the kitchen and notice me. “You’ve arrived.”

“What is going on?” It’s the only question I can get out before my grandmother embraces me in a side hug.

“There’s been an accident. Your parents…they didn’t make it.” The female officer approaches me, her voice sounds like she’s speaking to a wounded animal, unsure of how I will respond.

The officers’ voices begin to sound muffled and muted as I fold into my mind, searching for someplace safe to hide from the terrible news. Taking in the information, I realize I’m upset and the burning knot in my throat urges me to scream or cry, anything really, but I just stand there.

My parents have been ghosts to me for a long time and I’m not sure how to say goodbye to people I was never given the opportunity to truly know. I feel my grandmother walk me towards the couch, sitting me down before thanking the officers and escorting them to the door.

“It’s pretty much a closed case ma’am. Once we have a trial date, we will be in contact,” the deep voice of the male officer says, as he stretches his hand to shake my grandmother’s, before they both leave. I hear the door closing and the lock turning but that’s all I can focus on.

“Baby, I’m going to make you something to eat and some ginger tea, okay?” I shake my head in response to her before getting up to go change. By the time I come back in my oversized, gray sweats and tank, the tea is waiting for me and so is my gran. She tells me what happened and that the person driving will most likely go to prison, but all I can focus on is the fact that my parents are gone.

“I thought I had more time, Gran. I-I thought…I thought I would have time to get them to love me more than they loved their work.” My voice is a croak as she pats my head.

“It’s not your job to get them to love you, honey, it’s not your job to get anyone to love you.”

I swipe a lone tear from my cheek taking another long look at myself in the mirror. After so many years of receiving less than the bare minimum from my parents, I learned I was also accepting the same from relationships. So I closed myself off—from relationships and also from life.

When I made the pact with my therapist and Paloma, it was because I didn’t want to just coast through life, I wanted to experience all it had for me. I didn’t want to just accept the bare minimum anymore, and expecting more began with saying yes to myself. Therapy allowed me to build myself up and to dream of what I want in a partner. I want to be first thing on their mind. To be loved after spending so many years feeling unlovable—I want to be loved for being me.

I close my eyes for just a moment, take a breath, and pull my hair up into a high ponytail. I’ll wash it, but it’s not happening today.

Before I open the door I hear a bit of commotion from the bedroom and then hear Jameson curse. Wanting to make sure he is okay, but not wanting to intrude on possible bad news, I slowly open the bathroom door. He hasn’t noticed me just yet as he checks his phone.

His posture is still relaxed as he sits at the edge of the bed, the duvet is wrapped around his waist leaving his chest on full display. He is all hard muscle and my eyes track down to his trim waist and the V cutting so deeply, it may as well be an arrow pointing to exactly where I want to be.

I blow out a quick breath as I shudder, then walk out and ask him, “Are you good in here? I thought I was coming out to more snuggles.” I place my hands on my hips, playfully upset as I quirk my eyebrows at him.

“I would do just about anything to stay in this bed with you, as promised, but Anders just called me. He’s running late to the house.” He unties his locs as he stands, his hair drops to the middle of his back and I hold in my sigh. “Which means I need to get to the house before the designer gets there.”

He looks up at me then and his smile builds slowly. I’m standing in the doorway of the bathroom, still in my tiny shorts and oversized t-shirt from last night. His eyes start from my bare feet, moving slowly up my body before he’s on his feet and moving, eating up the small distance between the two of us. Coming to stand in front of me he grips the top of the door frame and leans into me, and I tip my head back to look up at him. With lazy fingers, he twirls a loose curl around one of his fingers. “I promise you, Babygirl, that if it wasn’t for an emergency, I would be cussing him out. But he’s at the vet with my niece.”

“Your niece—wait. You said the vet?” The confusion at those two words war within me a bit, my eyebrows furrow and my confusion is clear to him as well.

His laugh brings a smile to my face before he answers me, “Yeah, um, my dog-niece. I keep telling him to stop treating her like a child, but she’s his baby.” He pulls out his phone from his pocket and shows me a picture of the mammoth man himself, holding a long-haired dachshund. She’s spattered with blonde, brown, and caramel hair, sporting light-blue eyes. A smile stretches my face so much that my cheeks hurt. His niece.

“She is absolutely the cutest thing.” And she is but I can’t hold back the giggle at the clear size difference. “I would have expected something… bigger .”

His head falls back with laughter. “Yeah, when he told me what he wanted I laughed too, but he’s a teddy bear really…Well, for her he is anyway. I thought he would cry when I surprised him with her almost three years ago.”

“You bought her?” It’s endearing, hearing him talk about his best friend and buying him such a thoughtful gift.

“Sure did,” He puffs his chest out a bit. “I’m her emergency contact at doggy daycare.”

“Stop it right now!” It’s my turn to throw my head back in laughter, holding my stomach. I can’t help the howl that escapes me.

When I catch my breath, I see him watching me with a dimpled smile on his face before he pulls me to him. “You are so beautiful.”

I rest my palm on his chest, running my fingers over his shoulder and into his hair, rubbing his scalp with my nails. He relaxes his body, dropping his head further into my waiting hands as he leans down to kiss me gently, pulling me flush against him, one hand resting on the small of my back. This kiss is slow and deep, he takes his time exploring my mouth with his tongue. He pulls away slowly, but not before giving me one more soft kiss on the lips and takes a small step back, before letting me go.

He walks into the bathroom and splashes some water on his face, using a spare towel to dry off. Tugging on his t-shirt, he pulls his locs to lay on his back and fuck, if that doesn’t send heat right to my core. Walking over, he leans in and gives me a small kiss. “I promise I’ll call you later, to check in.” The only thing I can do is nod my head like a damn fool before walking him to the door.

After locking up when Jameson leaves, I jump into the shower, making quick work of the hot water that soothes the lovely soreness of the night before. Not only did he make me feel incredible, he stayed to watch Fire Zone with me. Picking up my shampoo, I lather my scalp before rinsing and repeating the process with my conditioner. My thoughts about our time together warm my skin. I turn off the shower and wrap a towel around me and brush through my curls quickly.

I put on a fitted white blouse and wrap the skirt on next, tying a bow at my hip. Swiping on some red lipstick, I rub my lips together and smooth down my hair that is now braided at the nape of my neck.

Lifting my eyes to the clock, I release a breath of relief—I am not running late, for once. I still have plenty of time to get to the golf course to meet Lo. Today we are officially buying our cart for the charity tournament.

I take a peek at the vendor pin board Paloma made and see the cart she added. I’ve got a good feeling about today, I smile to myself. “Let’s buy a golf cart.”

Paloma and I have been at the course for a while now, double-checking we have all the documentation we need to ensure our part as a vendor runs smoothly. She was on a roll, every now and then I would see her space out a bit, almost as if she had seen a ghost, but she shrugged it off quickly.

“This place is huge!” I exclaim, taking in the ranch-style clubhouse. My eyes focus on the large screens near the bar area first. Anytime there’s a bar, I immediately size it up. They all mostly look the same, but occasionally one will surprise me with something new. The walls are painted in a cream color while warm wooden beams stretch along the ceiling. Twin off-white pillars line the walkway of the ritzy golf club, making it feel more extravagant than needed.

“How did you line this up so perfectly?” I ask Lo, fully believing that if she put her mind to it, she could move mountains. “The clubhouse is hosting a gold fest this weekend, so they have all their best carts out to choose from. The salesman assured me they would have multiple selections so we can get the best bang for our buck,” she answers.

I am still learning all the ins and outs of golf life—let’s say I much prefer my books and cocktails to being on a hot and humid golf course. It is beautiful though, I’ll give them that. The course is miles of hills and valleys covered in lush green grass that looks soft enough to roll or tan in for hours.

“Come this way,” Lo ushers me around the clubhouse as though this is a second home to her, guiding us near tables where patrons are enjoying lunch.

Walking down the sage green carpet, we finally make it to the other side of the country club where a set of see-through double doors frame a picturesque view. Even inside I find myself squinting from the sun reflecting off a man-made body of water, small waves ripple along the surface from the breeze, like something out of a magazine. I understand exactly why the club has the doors situated in this spot.

A heated gust of wind presses against the door as Paloma makes an attempt to open it; I give it a firm press of my palm to stop it from pushing her over. I take in a deep inhale, enjoying the smell of fresh-cut grass, still dewy from what I assume would be the sprinkler system. A

A hum of voices from the golf cart sales staff and potential customers have me turning my attention to men in polos and joggers. My eyes widen and I snap my neck back in horror at the amount of colors and patterns covering the salesmen’s bodies. This cannot be real, I think to myself as I shift my gaze to Lo, sending her a message with my eyes only. One that says, Girl, why the hell are these men dressed like a pack of Skittles… that exploded?

She rolls her eyes at me, sending a message back that says, Don’t start! She nods her head for me to follow. I sidle up next to her and give her a small nudge.

“Did I miss the memo,” I whisper, “Why does that man have on neon green flamingo-printed pants with an equally disturbing shirt?”

I watch her cheek hollow out, denting in from her biting back a laugh. She has to know I am not mature enough for this, a giggle slips out before she pinches me. “This is what golf clothes look like. I mean, some options are more neutral but—” She chuckles, noticing my wide eyes along with my eyebrows that are sure to be melding with my hairline. “Some golfers are more flamboyant in their appearance. It’s a good time all in all. Come on!” She squeals with excitement, tugging my arm like she’s back in her element. She drags me straight to the greens, where several golf carts are parked for purchase. Peacocks—I mean, the salesmen—walk buyers around, some with serious expressions, while others joke and laugh with those they’re hoping to make a commission on.

“We need to be sure to find one with a bar that’s attached to the back of it, we can always get it painted—” I begin to say, but Lo interrupts me.

“Purple? Yeah, babe.” She chuckles. “I know, you love purple. Besides, it will pop against the fringe.”

“Be honest, Lo, do you think this is too much? To buy a cart for this tournament?” I ask, knowing she’s been spearheading this idea but also has some reservations about expanding.

“I think it’s a great idea! This tournament is going to bring in a lot of business. Besides, this course is one of the busiest around and has exclusive memberships.” Her voice is animated as she responds.

That’s when I see it.

I never thought I would fall in love with a golf cart, but it’s perfect! The two-seater cart is deep purple with a white and purple striped canopy top to shade us from the sun while we drive from hole to hole. The beverage area on the back is expansive and has multiple areas to store all the ingredients to a great cocktail along with a cooler at the bottom for ice.

When my eyes land on the price tag, my mouth drops slightly open as my feet stop moving. Paloma is chatting away until she realizes I am no longer standing next to her. “I know, babe, but we have it saved. This is an investment that will pay for itself. I promise.”

We’ve been saving and technically, I don’t need to worry about money. I’ve invested my inheritance and have been equally as smart throughout the year. Still.

“It’s a lot to spend on a cart. Is this what they go for?” I pause, listening to myself worry. “You know what, ignore me. I know you got this. You’ve never led me astray, babe.”

Lo lightly bumps her shoulder into mine before nudging us both to keep moving. “And never will. Come on, let’s go take a look. Besides, we get a discount.”

This piques my interest further. We speak to the salesman and decide to make the purchase, we get a steep discount since this is the course we will primarily be vendors at, and because it’s the first day of the Golf Fest. I feel a bit better about the final price, the salesman made sure to let us know they would drive our new cart to the detailer to get our logo and the last few adjustments made.

By the time we are done and sitting in the clubhouse restaurant, I’m excited all over again. Watching my best friend closely as she finishes her BLT sandwich, I notice her eyes widen and she seems to hold her breath. Her leg shakes underneath the table and it reminds me how on edge she’s been lately. “I don’t know if I can do this.” Her words are just slightly above a whisper but I hear them nonetheless. After the afternoon we just had, I’m surprised by her sudden change of heart.

“Hey, are you okay?” I ask her, waiting a moment but her gaze is still on the screen of her phone. “Paloma?” Her lashes flick up towards my face as she realizes she zoned out. “Listen babe, if you don’t want to be the one to manage the cart then I will see if Brianna wants to take over. It’s fine. But are you okay?” I couldn’t care less about her bowing out, that’s not the problem—B and I got this. But Lo’s nervousness and secrecy are starting to get to me; I’m concerned and I don’t know how to help her if she won’t let me in.

“No, I’ll do it,” she states firmly.

“Then what is going on? You don’t ever flip flop like this and it’s really starting to worry me.”

Releasing a deep sigh, she starts, “Honestly, I have a few things on my mind. I’m working through them. Would you be upset with me if I said I wasn’t ready to talk about it?”

“Of course not!” I reach across the table, clasping her hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “You’re my best friend Lo, I just want you to know I am here when, or if, you need me.”

“I promise, the moment I feel like I’m in too deep.” She chuckles. “I promise I will talk to you.” We clean up the table, stacking the plates, before we get up to leave when both of our phones chime.

J-babe

Hey babes!

Lo

I miss you so damn much! When are you coming home again?

How are you?

I watch as Janelle’s bubbles populate but disappear several times before she finally replies.

J-babe

I’m doing okay. I miss you guys too

We finally bought the golf cart!

Tapping on the camera button, I go into my photos and send Janelle a picture of Paloma and me standing in front of our new wheels. I wish she was here with us—this will have to be the next best thing.

Lo

I’m gonna name her Penelope…

J-babe

PENELOPE! She’s a babe!

Oh, I gotta get back but I love you both.

Lo

Love you more.

Love youuuu.

J-babe

Oh! Can you guys send me something spicy to read? Do your worst.

Lo’s phone chimes once more but it’s not from our group text thread, and I can tell her attention is split with whomever it is texting her. I know she is aware I’m here for her, but it doesn’t stop my concern. I have to trust in knowing that if she needs me, she will tell me. When she’s ready. As soon as she pops her head back up, we finish our drinks, chatting about our new cart, Penelope, and how we can’t wait for the charity tournament. It may be seven months away, but we are officially ready.