No Pink Caddy (ACE Book 1) (28 page)

Then I decide to write a heartfelt blog post about my new relationship. I’ve written about my dating woes—might as well celebrate the happiness.

Focusing on my computer, I begin . . .

Full-Circle Moment

When I began this blog I was a recent college grad who’d been dumped by her college sweetheart and was working at a job I hated where he was my boss. You were my lifeline. I survived monotonous days knowing that when I got home, I could spill my heart out to you. You’ve read the posts about him marrying the girl who lived down the hall from me in college. I’ve cried my heart out to you when I found out she was pregnant.

I’ve shared my dating woes and thrift shop finds. You’ve made my recipes and watched my restoration videos. I’ve never met most of you, yet I consider all of you my dear friends. So as friendships go, I get to share a couple of exciting things going on in my life.

First of all, I quit my job and am now focused on NoPinkCaddy full-time. That’s right! I’m the boss, CEO, assistant, and janitor. I couldn’t be more excited. Content should improve since I will not be as tired or rushed in the evenings. And I’ll be able to share more with you. I have so many great things planned: new projects, product reviews, thrift store shopping, sights of New Orleans, and recipes to try are just the tip of the iceberg. And . . . Bella’s wedding! She’s agreed to share every step of preparing for her special day with you.

And that brings me to my next bit of news. I MET A BOY! It’s true. He’s a beautiful man with a soul to match. He makes me happy and challenges me in all the best ways. The relationship is new. We’re still figuring out the next steps, but I can’t wait to introduce him to you. I’m sure you’ll fall in love with him also.

Have a great weekend, and I hope to have some fun pics to share with you on Monday.

I proof it a couple of times and make some tweaks before submitting. Exhaling, I hit refresh to ensure it’s live.

By now, it’s four o’clock. Sleeping Beauty has been out long enough. I open the door and pad across the wooden floor. Slipping under the covers, I snuggle against his back. I move the hair off of his face.

“Aaron, it’s time to wake up.” I lean down and kiss his temple.

He grumbles and rolls over so he’s facing me. His features are relaxed, and he looks peaceful. “You’re supposed to be naked,” he says as he grabs me around my middle and nuzzles my breast through my baggy sweatshirt.

“I’m not that type of working girl,” I quip.

“That’s right. You only work for me.” A sweet smile spreads his lips.

I brush the hair out of his eyes. “Your sister is at your house.”

He rolls on top. “She can wait.” Aaron sits back on my thighs and shows me how happy he is to see me by grabbing his package. “I need attention, woman.”

Rolling my eyes, “you always need attention.”

“So do you,” he quips giving my nipple a tug once again through my shirt.

We spend the next hour making love, and enjoying each other’s company.

When Aaron decides we’re done, he kisses the tip of my nose. “Let’s go meet everyone,” he says, looking like a kid headed to a birthday party.

“You go shower first,” I direct as I lounge naked on top of my comforter. I wish I had gotten more accomplished today, but since I’m looking at the next two weeks as an unexpected gift, I’ll write today off as successful.

“Join me,” he says, bouncing on the bed like a monkey. His poor balls flop around, and I wonder if his testicles are like my boobs. They would ache if I jumped up and down without a bra on. Suddenly, I feel sorry for them. Should I invent a ball sling?
Shark Tank
! I could make millions.

Of course, I don’t share this bizarre train of thought with Aaron. “Shower isn’t big enough,” I whine. “Go.”

“The shower at my place is.” He flashes me a rock star smile and grabs his package in the most vulgar way possible.

“I have to tell you . . .” I pause for dramatic effect. “In the history of ball grabbing and dick shaking, not one woman has ever rolled on her back and spread her legs because she was just that turned on.”

He gets the playful glint in his eye that I recognize as trouble. “You see, MK, when you’re a rock star, you don’t even have to grab your crotch to make the panties fly off. All I have to do is . . .”

I hold my hand up. “Fine. You win. I forget I’m playing against a stacked deck. I could probably outwit you in Catholic Church trivia, vampires, and the intricacies of preparing the perfect bread pudding. I concede sex.”

Aaron cocks his head to the side. “I’m not quite sure I actually won anything.” Then a shrug. “Oh well. Get up. We’ll shower at my place.”

“Nope. I’m not meeting your family and friends with you smelling like sex.”

He gets pouty. “But it’s my favorite scent, eau de MK.”

“Gross,” I laugh, not really thinking it’s gross. The human body is fascinating—nothing icky about it. Now, sitting on the toilet and eating a bowl of cereal is another story.

Fortunately, he doesn’t push back and heads into my bathroom. I get up, throw on a robe, and walk into my living room to check the responses on my post. Mostly they are congratulations sort of messages. I scan through those, very pleased people are happy for me. Then I see a message where someone posted the pictures of Aaron and I at the restaurant. Speculation begins running wild that he’s the boy I wrote about.

I walk into the bathroom where Aaron is already in the shower. “Hey! Did you know someone posted pictures of us at lunch yesterday?”

“My publicist said they were no big deal,” he replies, and goes right back to humming a tune.

“Yeah. I saw them last night and agree. But fans of my blog are putting two and two together.” I just drop the statement and see where he’s going to take it. “I haven’t called you by name on my blog.”

The water shuts off and he pulls back the shower curtain, putting himself on full display. “You’ve got fans. I’ve got fans. It is what it is.”

It’s interesting. I’ve never thought of myself as having fans. Sure I have a healthy following, but people don’t ask for my autograph or stop me in restaurants like they do Aaron. I guess I’ve been living a public life without really realizing it. His comment yesterday at the restaurant about how easy it was for him to find me sticks in my head like rubber cement. I wonder if it’s a problem. “Okay. Then if we’re public, I want a definition of what we are.”

He pulls a turquoise towel off the rack and wraps it around his hips. His head shakes back and forth slinging water around my black and white tiled bathroom and I put up my hands, trying to keep the droplets off me. “You can have another towel,” I scold as I open the cabinet above my toilet.

That apparently translates into wipe-your-wet-hair-all-over-my-bathrobe. Once Aaron’s done acting like he’s twelve, with a broad smile he says, “Pick a title. I’m good with significant other, lover, sex god, beef cake, man with giant cock, or you can choose.”

It seems obvious we’re dating. We agreed to be exclusive yesterday. Boyfriend and girlfriend feels like high school. Significant other feels rather formal. “Fuck buddy?”

“See, there’s that dirty mouth again.” He grabs his crotch through the towel. “Love it.”

I laugh and drop my robe as I climb into the shower.

“I just show you my cock and your clothes fly off. We’re made for each other.”

He’s so full of himself after a good day’s rest. Even though he drives me a bit crazy, I have to say I love that he keeps me on my toes and laughing. His boldness and irreverence challenges me in a good way.

Stepping under the warm spray, I think about it for a bit. What is he to me? And after a few minutes, I realize he’s the person I never want to be without. “What about
person
?”

“Huh?” he asks as I hear the drawers under my sink opening and then slamming shut. “Where in the hell is your mousse? You’re a girl. Girls have mousse.”

“Bottom drawer.” I put soap on the same washcloth he used. I could ask him to get me a fresh one, but why bother? “My person was coined on
Grey’s Anatomy
. You call someone ‘my person’ when they’re your favorite person to be with in the whole wide world.”

The shower curtain is ripped back. His eyes sparkle, and the smile on his face is full of white, perfect teeth. “I fucking love it.” He drops to one knee in front of my tub while water sprays all over the bathroom. “Mary Kay Landry, would you do me the honor of being my person?”

I throw back my head and laugh, not caring that a puddle of water is forming on my floor. “Yes, Aaron Charles Emerson. I’ll be your person.”

He grabs my bottle of mousse off the counter and takes my ring finger, drawing a circle. “It’s official. We’re each other’s persons.”

“Happiest girl in the world.” I laugh. “Now, grab some towels and mop my bathroom.”

I close the shower curtain.

“Your wish is my command, person.”

Lauren Loves Johnny
@LaurenLovesJohnny

Trying to be happy for him. Trying not to stare at the picture of them holding hands. #HateNoPinkCaddy

Lauren Loves Johnny
@LaurenLovesJohnny

JohnnyKniteIsMine
Can you believe it? I just knew he would stay single or marry one of us. #HateNoPinkCaddy

My hand rests on his bouncing leg. “Why are you nervous? I thought I was supposed to be the one with butterflies in my tummy.”

He picks up my hand and gives it a kiss as he comes to a full and complete stop at the red light. “Just want everyone to get along.”

“You know, I have a reputation of being a very difficult person. No friends. No one likes me. Especially parents. They hate me,” I tease.

His response to my joke is a grunt.

I change the subject. “The restaurant I chose for us is in the Quarter. The food is great. It’s owned by one of the members of the Brennan Family. They’re like local celebrities. They own restaurants all over New Orleans.” He’s not listening to me. I’ve stopped his leg from bouncing but now he’s drumming on the steering wheel. “They make a fantastic rubber steak. Their purple green beans are amazing. And you will not be able to pass up the . . .”

My joke earns me a half-smile. “I heard you, MK.”

We turn into his driveway. He leaves the red robot car just inside the gate. Taking my hand as we walk towards the back entrance, he says, “Grace can come off as a bitch.”
No kidding.
“But she’s protective of me and what we’ve built. Just give her a chance to warm up.”

I’m so looking forward to meeting the ray of sunshine I had the pleasure of texting with and talking to today. Dropping Aaron’s hand, I smooth my winter white Herve Leger dress. I splurged on it last year and wore it to the wedding of one of my sorority sisters. I absolutely adore it. I don’t think Aaron has noticed I look sexy as hell.

He holds the door for me, and I step into the hallway by his bedroom. The house, which has been so quiet except for Aaron’s guitar, is filled with the sounds of a party. Music blares. I don’t recognize the song, but I can hear someone singing along. All the lights are on while Aaron normally keeps everything dim. It’s a bit odd. Grabbing his hand, I feel off balanced.

We walk into the kitchen and stand there a moment before we’re noticed. A really tall guy with hair as long as mine yells, “Here’s Johnny!” and then grabs Aaron, giving him a huge hug. My hand falls limply to my side. And then suddenly we’re surrounded. I don’t seem to be noticed, so I step out of the mob and lean against the wall.

Everyone is happy to see him. It makes me smile, but inside I’m so uncomfortable. I look around. Should I go sit at the dining room table and just stay out of their way? Do I catch Aaron’s eye and ask him to introduce me? None of it feels right. I’m not used to being a wallflower.

I decide to use his bathroom and check my makeup. While I’m there, I take a selfie against a bare wall. I’m careful to not show details of my location, and I post it on my Twitter account.

MK Landry
@NoPinkCaddy

Off to meet some of the boy’s friends. Y’all, this is starting to feel real. #FeelingLikeAButterfly

I’m gone for about five minutes but no one seems to notice. Instead of doing my best to keep the wall upright again, I walk around the kitchen island and sit down on a bar stool. Aaron is the center of attention. It seems his magnetism is evident to more than just me. I’m happy his bandmates adore him. That’s important. I’m no rock band expert, but I would think my favorite word
chemistry
is important.

Reality smacks me in the face. Just Aaron and I together is not the norm. This is. Probably in his everyday life, he’s surrounded by people. Can I play the role of backseat passenger in his life? Probably not. If I’m honest with myself, I’m a bit jealous. I’ve liked his spotlight shined directly on me. These feelings are foreign. I realize in this moment that I’m normally the center of attention. Not that I crave it or seek it out, but at work, the ladies all deferred to me. In my personal life, I hang out at a bar where everyone knows my name. I was president of my sorority in college, and student body vice-president in high school. This is the first time I can remember being an outsider, a nobody in a room full of people.

After a moment, a tall, leggy blonde breaks off from the pack and walks over.

Trying to appear friendly and not the least bit uncomfortable, I extend my hand. “MK Landry.”

She takes it and replies, “Sam Moore.” Sam is very attractive in that over-exercised sort of way. Guys would be envious of her arm muscles. She’s also unnaturally tanned for the fall, but she’s got a genuine smile and kind eyes.

“Nice to meet you. Are you dating one of the members of the band?” I’m hoping to find a kindred soul.

She laughs. “Johnny hasn’t talked much about us, huh?”

I smile awkwardly as my face grows pink. “Guess not.”

“We grew up together. I play bass.”

“Wonderful,” I reply, wishing like hell I had gone back and read the music section of Aaron’s Wikipedia page, looked at band pictures or really just paid the least bit of attention. “I’m sorry. I know your songs, but I have to say that I’m more of a recent fan.”