A Year of You (13 page)

Jones, the skinny young lawyer that didn’t really look like the ‘legal shark’ Ruth Ellen proclaimed him to be, cleared his throat and shuffled through his briefcase for the right paperwork. “Um, you have to be married a full year. You have to reside full-time with this legal husband for three months. During the three-month-period, an allowance drawn from the fund will be paid to you. At the conclusion of the three-month-period, the funds created by your maternal grandparents will be awarded to you. At the end of the year, two separate funds created Ruth Ellen Carruther and the late Edward Martin Carruther will be awarded to you.”

Ruth Ellen gave him a proud little nod and turned her gaze on Mattie. “Do you understand that fully?”

“I do. What about the DNA tests, though? McKendrick told me the other night it will only be a couple of weeks.”

“It has already been taken care of. Your tests are lost in transit at the moment. I’m giving you the three months to find Elaine. You shouldn’t need nearly that long.”

“Won’t McKendrick just order more tests?”

“It’ll be dealt with. So when’s the wedding?”


“Two weeks.”


Ruth Ellen laughed again. “A little soon, isn’t it?”


“McKendrick is about to evict him from his land. He gave West until December to pay him back. The end of the three months will be the end of November if we get married now, so I’ll be able to pay off the debt.”

“Playing the heroine, hmm?”


“No! I want to help him. He’s a nice guy.”


“How is Emeline taking the news?”


“I don’t really know. I don’t really care that much.”
Ruth Ellen nodded thoughtfully. “Just be careful, Evelyn. Justine can be a viper. She’s devious and scheming, especially now that my son-in-law is facing—” She cut herself short.


“Facing?” Mattie prodded.


With an exasperated sigh, Ruth Ellen shook her head. “It’s none of your business. I’m warning you, the fam—”


“’—Family has secrets that need to be kept’. I get that. I hear it quite often.”


“Yes, I’m sure you do. But you, my dear, are the one who is going to bring them to light.”          

“Yay,” Mattie replied in an unenthusiastic monotone.

***

Mattie descended the wide curving staircase, feeling like Kate Winslet in
Titanic
, except that nobody was watching her or gasping at her resplendent beauty. It was a good thing, though, because on the second to last stair her foot, clad in super-skinny heels, dipped sideways and she nearly did a face plant into the million-dollar carpeting.

“I ought to call you ‘Grace.’”


“Shut up, West.”
He smirked at her and waited for her to readjust her cocktail-length black dress before he extended his hand.

“You look nice.”


“Thanks. You too.”


“Thanks. Want a drink?”


“Not right now. So what am I supposed to do? Just wander around?”


West chuckled. “Just for a little while. This party is more for Justine and Mr. McKendrick than us. Emeline’s got something going at her condo in our honor.”
Mattie sidestepped a waiter and rearranged a stray strand of hair that wouldn’t stay in place.

“In our honor? So she’s over her tantrum?”


“No, but she’ll grab any excuse to have a party.”
West guided her through the well-dressed crowd, stopping only when someone stopped him. “Seriously, we only have to stay a few more minutes, then we can go see how the shindig at Em’s is.”

“Good. I can wear jeans, can’t I?”


“Yeah. I got mine out in the truck.”


An hour later, after she’d been greeted coolly and ignored, West nodded at her questioning gaze, and she escaped to the relative sanctuary of her room to change clothes. West waited just inside the door.

Just wanting to screw with his head, she made sure the bathroom door stayed halfway open as she changed, showing him flashes her body as she slipped into a pair of worn, comfy jeans and a tank top. She watched him through the mirror, satisfied with the way he stared intensely, hands in his pocket. Even the bulge of his hands couldn’t hide the other bulge in the front of his pants.

God, it felt good, knowing she was affecting him like that. For so long K had her convinced she was fat and ugly, utterly unattractive to anybody but him. Whether he was just horny or if he really thought something of her, West made her feel good. He liked being her friend. He never asked her for anything that he knew she would mind giving. She swept her hair up into a messy ponytail. Dressed and ready, she followed him out the door and to his truck.

***

For a party that was supposed to be in her honor, Mattie thought Emeline had done a good job of taking over. She didn’t care—none of Emeline’s friends interested her. They were all in their early twenties, wealthy, and had no aspirations other than getting drunk and getting laid.

And the music! R&B and rap poured from the speakers set up all around the expansive penthouse condo’s balcony overlooking the beach. Nearly forty men and women gyrated and ground against each other. The booze flowed freely from the bar.

Sick of it after barely an hour, Mattie slipped away from the party. Getting drunk alone was boring. West was nowhere to be found, but she hadn’t really expected him to hang around.

It would have been nice, even though their conversations had turned more to vaguely uncomfortable silences. Since the Friday he’d accepted her proposal, he hadn’t really spoken to her more than he had to. He had lots of thinking to do, she figured.

Nobody had seen him lately, although someone saw him in the elevator when they were coming up to the penthouse. Mattie decided to check the parking garage. He was her ride back to the McKendrick house. Even if they didn’t get any talking done, she didn’t want to be stranded at Emeline’s. She’d rather sleep on the street.

The elevator coasted down smoothly, dinging at the garage level. She stepped out into the dimly lit space, looking for his beat-up old truck. It wasn’t on any of the upper levels, but she found him on the ground level, parked by the wall that was open to the ocean air.

“Hey,” she said, knocking on the door of the passenger side.
He glanced over at her and nodded, acknowledging her presence.
“Can I get in?”
He shrugged.
Mattie climbed in and slammed the door. It didn’t catch and bounced open again. She pulled it in and held it shut with one hand. “I was thinking we should talk.”
Instead of saying anything, he passed her a bottle of dark amber liquid.

“That shit up there’s depressing,” he muttered.


“Yeah. You’re already drunk. It’s been an hour!” Steeling herself, she took a swig of whatever it was in the bottle. It seared her throat like liquid lightning. Coughing, she tried to suck in enough air to cool the burn.


“Wimp,” West said, pushing a bottle of lukewarm soda into her hand. She gulped it down, soothing the burn in her belly. “What’re we supposed to be talking about?”


It was Mattie’s turn to shrug. “Just stuff. I don’t want you to hate me.”


West turned sideways and gazed at her, frowning slightly. “I don’t hate you, Mattie.”

Mattie didn’t know what to say, so she took another gulp of the horrible stuff in the bottle and chased it with the Pepsi. The burn wasn’t so bad that time. It hit her stomach like a rock, though. “You’re going to get drunk,” West commented.


“Nah.”


“That stuff’s a lot stronger than you’re used to, darlin’.”

“I can deal. What is it?”


“Called a Cluster Fuck.”


“Lovely name.”


“It’s pretty indicative of what you’ll feel like tomorrow.”
After the third gulp, she felt the tendrils of alcohol tickling her brain. West reclaimed the bottle. He was right. That stuff hit hard and fast.

The wind blew in off the ocean, strong and salty. It whipped into the cab of the truck, sending a handful of receipts stuck between the visor and the ceiling flying.

“We’re still friends, aren’t we?” Mattie asked around the haze that was slowly enveloping her mind. “You’re a good friend, West. I don’t want to lose that.”

His hand crawled across the bench seat and held hers. “We’re friends, Mattie. You like my singing.”

“I love it. I could listen to you all day. Your voice does
thin
gs
to me.
” Laughing at herself, Mattie rolled her eyes. The haze thickened a bit more, masking a bit more of her inhibitions. She leaned towards him, grinning. She whispered, “In my
pants.
” It struck her as hilarious and she laughed until her stomach hurt.

West smiled, a lopsided, bleary-eyed look. “So the truth comes out. I guess maybe I do like you.”


“I’m not so bad. Really.”


“It’s all an act, huh?”
After he took a generous pull from the bottle, she took one. She barely felt the burn. A minute or so later, she noticed her cheeks and nose were going numb. The alcohol hammered at her brain.


“We don’t have to do the big wedding thing, do we?” she asked, distracted by the way her mouth felt forming the words. It took a bit of effort to get the words out right. “I don’t like a lot of fuss.”

“Me neither. I’m all for a Justice of the Peace wedding.”


“Cool. Let’s do that then. White makes me look fat, anyway.”


“You’re not fat. You’re hot.”

“Really?” Mattie shifted in the seat, turning sideways to face him. She leaned back on the door. She didn’t even know she’d fallen out until she hit the oily concrete and found herself staring up at the ceiling of the garage.

West’s laugh preceded him out of the truck. He leaned out, reaching for her. It took her a couple of tries to get her hand in his. He hauled her up, then crawled out of the truck, bottle in hand.

“It’s ille-lee-leegal,” he said. “But let’s go to the beach.”

His slurred speech struck Mattie as the funniest thing she’d ever heard. She laughed so hard she nearly fell over once again.

He gripped her elbow. “Come on now, you’ve only had four swallows of this. You can’t be that drunk yet. This is my second bottle!”

“I told you- th’other night! I can’t hold my booze. And it’s been like six big gulps.” Mattie stumbled against his side. The sky was spinning above her, and the ground below her threatened to toss her aside. The path to the beach wasn’t much, just a beaten track in the weeds behind the garage. Just as they reached the shining white sand, Mattie tripped over her own feet. West’s own coordination wasn’t up to par, so he ended up on top of her.

Instinctually, she wiggled around so he was between her legs. She felt his body’s response, and it sent a hot wave of desire through her.

West gazed down at her, brows narrowed slightly. “Wh-when I was five, I said I was gonna marry you. You remember? You were my brest-best fend-friend.”

Mattie shook her head. “Wish I did, Wes.”

He frowned at her then settled his body more comfortably against hers. “You feel good right here.” His elbows framed her head. His weight was comforting, like a cozy blanket.

“You really think I’m hot?” She reached up and brushed his hair out of his face. He closed his eyes and turned toward her caress. He rolled away from her and sat up.

“Hell yeah. You got boobs…” he pantomimed with cupped hands. “And that ass and those lips and that mouth. Mmm!”

Mattie grabbed the bottle and swigged from it. This time the whiskey scorched a path down her throat. “I think you’re pretty hot yourself.”

He nodded and laughed. “Me too.” He took the bottle and gulped. He held it up to the moon and squinted at the last little bit in the bottom.

After draining the last half-shot, he spun the bottle in the sand. It pointed out to the rolling ocean. Mattie spun the bottle. It ended up pointing at the wall behind them. “Darn.”


“What’re we playing?” he asked.


“Game. You have to tell me a shecret-secret—now.”

He scowled at her. “What kinda game is that?”


“This kind. Now tell me a secret.”


He thought about it hard. “I can’t dance.” With his next spin, the bottle ended up pointing off toward the ocean again. “Your turn.”


All of Mattie’s thoughts suddenly seemed important, screaming in her head to be shared. She grabbed at one. “I sort of actually like Shakira.”

“Who?”

“That blonde Latin singer with the hips?” Mattie launched into an off-key rendition of “Whenever, Wherever” that sent West into gut-crunching guffaws.
A wave of disorientation washed over her, and she wobbled sideways. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep. Her body threatened to do just that, with or without her consent. Nausea bubbled up in her belly.

“You all right?”

She forced her eyes open and nodded at him. Her vision felt cloudy and limited. “You got me drunk.”

“You got yourself drunk. Spin.”

Mattie missed the bottle with her first few grabs. Laughing at her, West put her hand on it and helped her spin it. His chest pressed against her back. She pretended not to notice when he sniffed her throat.
Woohoo, glad I wore fancy perfume!

The bottle ended up pointing directly at him.
They both stared at it. Mattie’s mind remained blank. “What now?” she asked.
“It’s your game.”


“Ummm.”
For a long time the bottle glittering in the moonlight mystified them.


“I got an idea.” West scooted closer and pulled her close. Without any more warning, his lips claimed hers.
Mattie melted in his arms. Even though he was wasted, she tasted passion and tenderness in his kiss. Even when his grip around her shoulders tightened and his kiss grew more urgent, she found herself clutching him tighter, threading her fingers through his hair. He pulled her on to his lap and ran his hands up her back, beneath her shirt. Coming up for air, he kissed her neck, biting, nibbling. The cool sea air blew over her skin. The damp spots sang with sensation. She shivered when he found the sweet spot at the back of her neck. West’s sandy hands found her breasts inside the not-so- supportive built-in bra of her tank top.

She arched her chest into his touch, gasping when he pinched her nipples. Sand dug into her skin, emphasizing the pressure with little stings of pain.

“West—”

Abruptly, he dumped her off his lap and crawled away. He made it a few feet before he vomited violently into the sand. After a moment he crawled back, swiping at his mouth with the shoulder of his T-shirt.