Page 78 of Wish Lists and Road Trips

“No way.” I hefted her into my arms, pinning her against the door with my chest and she wrapped her legs around me, eyes wide. “This okay?”

She nodded, and I slid one hand behind her head, the other between us, hooking her panties to the side.

One hard thrust and I was panting against her neck. “God, Brit. You feel so good. I want to do this forever.”

She moved against me, whispering my name. I got a hold of myself, thrusting again, and she cried out so loud it bounced around the dark room.

She slapped a hand over her mouth, and I laughed, pulling her fingers away and pressing them to my lips. I was glad we weren’t in that train car anymore because I wanted her to keep doing that all night long. “Make all the noise you want, baby.”

There was no one around to hear us. It was just Brit and me.

We finished the last of the Rummy Bears and half-watched a movie before going again in a much slower, quieter session. After that, Brit passed out, her face plastered to my chest, and that was where she stayed.

I slept like a rock after her back-walk in the park, but tonight I was wired. I surfed the shitty cable package until I found a rebroadcast of a Nats game from a year ago, lowering the volume so I wouldn’t wake her. I played with a lock of her hair while I let my mind drift to the last twenty-four hours—they’d maybe been the best of my life. Screw the cruise and all of the beautiful places Alex’s list had taken me to. This, being holed up with Brit, laughing and eating candy, her naked body draped over me while she slept off her orgasm, this was paradise.

And she was the one snoring, for the record. It was so adorable, I wasn’t even going to tease her for it.

Around the second inning, my eyes started to go blurry with exhaustion. I reached over to turn off the lamp, and a blinking light from my phone caught my eye. A voicemail. This time I couldn’t even blame missing it on no service. I’d willfully ignored the thing all day.

Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I lifted Brit’s cheek and slid out from under her. I found my boxers on the floor and stepped into them as I walked to the bathroom. I knew who would call me this late. I knew exactly what it was, and I didn’t want Brit to wake up and hear this conversation.

The voicemail was time-stamped one in the morning. I pressed play and my mother’s familiar slurred greeting played back. I could tell she’d been crying.

I’d expected this, a relapse after Alex died. You usually had to quit something in order to call it a relapse, but there’d been a few years after Alex and Willow got married that she’d seemed like she’d turned a corner. Now she’d been like this since the funeral, always differing degrees of self-medication.

I closed the bathroom door and dialed her number. I’d only missed it by twenty minutes. Maybe I could talk to her now and she’d go back to bed.

But my dad’s rough and worn voice answered instead. “Hey, Nicky.”

“Dad.” My brain shifted roles on a dime. “Why are you up so late?”

He laughed, trying to play it off, but all of his laughs were sad now. “I should ask you the same.”

I had a beautiful naked woman in my bed. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. My father didn’t know much about my personal life, what little there was of it, but I think we both liked it that way. The company was what we had in common. “I woke up and saw Mom’s call.”

His heavy exhale crackled over the line. “Your mother’s having a rough night.”

“Is she in bed?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You know you shouldn’t let her have it in the house—”

“Nick, we need to talk about work.”

My pulse tripped at the way he switched gears without warning. I’d hoped maybe I could enjoy a full twenty-four hours of being done with Alex’s list but I could already feel that tightness in my chest returning, reminding me that the commitments never ended. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch,” I said. “I’ll be home soon—”

“I have to tell you something.” I heard him release a shaky breath. It was the most emotion I’d ever gotten from him. Even at Alex’s funeral, with my mother breaking down between us, he sat stoic. This made me feel off-balance and unprepared and I wanted to make up an excuse to hang up, crawl back into bed with Brit and forget about this for a little while longer, but that wasn’t happening. “The job in Clayborne.”

His voice trailed off and my hair stood up. “What about it?”

“I screwed up, Nick. The bank didn’t approve the loan because I didn’t have the right permits.”

Dread settled onto my shoulders. That was my responsibility, checking the packages before they went to the bank. He was covering for me. “All right,” I said, my mind racing. “So just get the right one and schedule another meeting, Dad. I can take it when I get home.”

“Our subs were supposed to be paid upfront. They’re bailing. Without them, we won’t meet our schedule for the development and the city wants to re-bid it.”

Christ. Anger flickered behind the guilt. I knew I wasn’t there but this wasn’t his first rodeo. This was low-level admin shit forhisproject. “How could you pull the wrong permits?”

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