Rosemary Beach: When I'm Gone Part 16

Reese.

I took the spoon Jimmy handed me and dove into the caramel swirl ice cream with a vengeance. I needed depression food. I'd been in the dumps since Mase had left that morning. I could have gone with him. He'd asked me to.

If I had said yes, I would have lost him much sooner. He hadn't been with me long enough to really know me. He'd only gotten small doses of me. What about when the memories leaked through and I stood under the hot water of the shower screaming and scrubbing myself? He hadn't seen that. He would think I was crazy. Because I was sure I was.

Sometimes the past broke through, and when it did, I went a little crazy.

I kept all that from him. He knew what was on the surface, and not even all of that. He knew just enough. My past had marked me.

It had ruined my ability to be close to anyone.

Except Mase. I was letting him in. Today proved just how much.

"You wanna talk about it? Or just eat it out?" Jimmy asked with a pinched frown.

"Don't want to talk about it," I replied, and stuffed my mouth full of ice cream.

"The man came from Texas on a Tuesday night to get your money back from the wicked witch and make sure you were OK before heading back home the next day to work. Seems to me like you should be all smiles and giggles. Not p.i.s.sy and trying to eat your way through this whole pint of ice cream."

I wasn't telling Jimmy. If I did, I'd have to tell him more, and I wasn't letting my past in. Not tonight. "I just hate it when he leaves," I said instead.

"Mmm-hmm, girl, so does the rest of the world. He's something to look at," Jimmy agreed.

That got a laugh out of me that died almost instantly. The girls in Fort Worth didn't have to see him leave. He was there. With them. They could see him and talk to him. He didn't have to fly over state borders to fix their problems.

"Wherever your head just went, bring it back, please," Jimmy said, pointing his spoon at me. "The man flew his a.s.s over here for you last night. He ain't giving anyone else nothing. h.e.l.l, I doubt he even smiles in Texas. He's smiling too much for you. He's gotta rest his s.e.xy mouth sometime."

I laughed. Loudly.

Jimmy sat back and smirked. He was pleased with himself.

The sound of my phone ringing had him standing up and saluting me. "That's your piece of hot Texas a.s.s now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

I glanced down at the phone, expecting to see cowboy boots, but it was an unknown caller. I didn't let Jimmy know.

"'Bye, Jimmy. And thanks," I called out.

He blew me a kiss and closed the door behind him.

I waited a moment until he was away from the door before answering.

"h.e.l.lo."

"You think you have him, but you don't. He was f.u.c.king me before you, and he'll be f.u.c.king me after you."

I held the phone in my hand long after the woman had ended the call.

An hour later, Mase called to tell me he was home safe but he was exhausted. He'd call me tomorrow.

The next morning, I refused to think about the strange phone call. It could have been a wrong number. She never said Mase's name. I shoved it aside and finally called Blaire Finlay to set up a meeting with her for the next week about cleaning her house. Then I went to the store and paid my bills for the week.

I came back to the apartment and cleaned it from top to bottom. By the time I had to meet with Dr. Munroe, I was better. I had gotten myself together, and I knew that when I called Mase that night, all would be well.

I was just missing him.

That was all this was.

Mase.

I undressed and lay back on the bed while listening to Reese read me her newest book. She seemed off tonight or nervous. I wasn't sure which. I had to help her several times. Once she reached the end of chapter two, I was going to let her stop. This book was more difficult, and she seemed tired.

"Do you want me to keep going?" she asked.

"That's good. You're doing so much better, baby. I'm so proud of you." And I was. She was reading on a fourth-grade level already. Dr. Munroe said it was because she had tried hard to learn in school, and she had learned. She just hadn't been shown how to deal with her disability. Now that she was working with it, she was picking up quickly and utilizing things she'd already been taught.

"My writing isn't the best, but I wrote a letter today. It wasn't a real one. I was supposed to write a fake one to someone thanking them for a gift. I only messed up two words. Dr. Munroe was pleased." The pride in her voice made my chest tighten. I loved knowing that she was proud of her accomplishments. She should be.

"I'm waiting for you to write me a letter," I told her. I could keep it tucked in my pocket all day and pull it out when I needed my Reese fix.

She laughed softly. "Not ready for that yet. Let me get better at it. I don't want Dr. Munroe correcting a letter I wrote to you. So it will have to come to you unedited."

Nothing she gave me could be less than perfect. Because it would be her. What she wrote. If she mixed up every letter and every word, then that was the way they were f.u.c.king meant to be. Because she would have written them for me.

"Don't care how many mistakes are in it, Reese. It would be from you. That's all that matters," I told her.

She made a soft little sigh. "You say the sweetest things."

I could say even sweeter things if she'd let me. I was tempted to try. Swear to G.o.d, I could still smell her on my hand. I'd put those fingers up to my nose and inhaled all d.a.m.n day.

"What are you wearing, Reese?" I asked.

"Your T-s.h.i.+rt, just like I'm supposed to," she replied. I could hear the amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice.

"Go lie down on your bed for me." I was testing her. I'd stop if she balked even once.

"OK," she breathed. "I'm on my bed."

f.u.c.k. Yes. She was playing along.

"You lying down?" I wanted her on her back with her legs open for me.

"Yes." Her response was quick and anxious-sounding. She knew what I was wanting.

"Will you let those pretty legs fall open for me, baby?" I waited, not knowing if she'd go this far.

After only a few seconds, she replied. "Yes."

I pulled my hardening c.o.c.k out of my briefs and wrapped my hand around it. The image of Reese lying back on her bed in my s.h.i.+rt with her legs open for me had me ready to get back on the d.a.m.n plane.

"You know what I want you to do, don't you?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Will you? Can I hear you pleasure yourself?"

She was breathing heavily. "Will you?"

"Will I what, baby?"

"Will you do it, too?"

Grinning, I stroked my length. "Already doing it. The fact that you're on your bed with those legs open wearing my s.h.i.+rt has me so d.a.m.n turned-on I'm aching."

"Oh," she said, then let out a soft moan.

f.u.c.k . . . me . . . she was doing it. "Where're your fingers?"

"On my . . . down there," she replied.

Oh, yeah. I closed my eyes and let her voice and the image of what she was doing take over my thoughts. "Are you wet for me?"

"Yeaaah," she said, with a hitch in her breathing.

"Play with it easy for me. Make my sweet p.u.s.s.y feel good. I'm not there to take care of it. I need you to, and let me hear you. I wanna hear those sounds you make."

"Ahhh!" she cried out. She loved my words.

"Rub that hard, swollen c.l.i.t. I want to kiss it. So bad . . . Run my tongue along the tender spots and then suck that hot b.u.t.ton into my mouth until you pull my hair and scream my name."

"Ohhhh, G.o.d," she moaned.

"That's it. Think about my head between those legs. All open for me. I can lick and lap up all that sweetness. Just me. Right there with you. Just us, baby. Your hands fisted in my hair and my hands . . . my hands on your creamy smooth thighs, holding you open. Breathing you in."

"Mase! Oh . . . aaaaah!"

Her release gave me my own. I listened as she rode it out and wished to G.o.d I was there to see it.

Reese.

Over the next week, I didn't just read to Mase at night. We ended our evenings doing other things . . .

Smiling at my secret, I spent extra time brus.h.i.+ng my hair. I had cleaned Harlow's house twice and met with Blaire Finlay. She was going to need someone three days a week. I had to talk to Harlow about working in her two days and Blaire's three days to meet everyone's needs. Blaire's current house-cleaner hadn't retired yet, so there was time to figure it out. She had two more weeks.

Jimmy had found out earlier in the week that today was my birthday. He'd decided he was taking me out. I hadn't done anything more than celebrate all alone most of my life. I remembered having a cake once when I was seven. My mother had made one and invited the neighborhood children over. I'd thought she had done it for me, and for a little while, I had felt so special.

Then, later that day, I had found her in the bathroom on her knees in front of one of the dads at the party. He had been saying things I didn't want to remember while she gripped his thighs and gave him a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b. That man lived across the street with his wife and two kids.

I had realized that not only was something wrong with what my mother was doing, but she had thrown this party to get close to that man. Not to me. It was my first and last birthday cake.

Tonight I would make a new memory. Jimmy wanted us to go dancing and eat cake. So we were going to do just that. I would celebrate turning twenty-three with someone who cared about me.

Stepping back and looking into the mirror, I felt like I was pretty. The dress I had on was a soft orange and reminded me of a sunset. It was strapless and belted at my waist with a brown woven belt that fell to mid-thigh. I had slipped on the cowboy boots I'd bought to please Mase. He hadn't seen them yet, but I used some of my savings to buy them. They were on sale for half-price, so I had only spent a little too much on them instead of a lot.

The knock on the door was followed by an "Open up, birthday girl!"

I smiled and went to let Jimmy inside.

He let out a low whistle and twirled his finger in the air for me to spin around. "I'm gonna have to act straight tonight to keep the men off you. d.a.m.n, woman, you clean up fine."

Laughing, I grabbed the small clutch I'd bought last year at a thrift store but never had a chance to use. It was metallic gold but simple, with a wristlet strap. "Let's go dance," I told him, as he took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

"I got moves, girl. You just wait."

I had no doubt he did.

We headed into town instead of out of it, but I knew there was nowhere to dance in Rosemary Beach. Frowning, I glanced over at Jimmy, who was singing "Born in the U.S.A." and tapping his steering wheel like it was drums.

"Where are we dancing?" I asked.

"Ah, some place called FloraBama," he replied, flas.h.i.+ng me a smile that was too big. Something was off.

"But we aren't headed out of town," I pointed out.

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Gotta drop something off first at the club."

Well, that made sense. I sat back and watched the small town pa.s.s by as we turned into the back entrance of the club where the workers parked. Jimmy drove down toward a sh.e.l.l road that seemed to lead out to the water.

Was he dropping something off at the beach?

"Here we are," he said, smiling at me as he swung open the door. We had driven down as far as we could go.

"If you'll just walk down this wooden walkway toward that light up ahead," Jimmy said, pointing me toward what looked like the top of a small tent from here. There were palm trees in the way.