On the Rocks (Pub Fiction Book 2) (20 page)

Braunwyn

T
oday is Brock
University’s annual “Bowling for the Health of It” campaign.

I’m excited to be a part of such an amazing event, which supports a cause that is near and dear to my heart: all of the money raised goes to the Kids Help Phone, an organization which offers advice to young callers who need someone talk to or simply to listen. I think with the increase in teen and adolescent suicide rates, options like Kids Help Phone need to be both supported and promoted. I often wonder if I should have tried to call the hotline back when I knew Shawn was suffering with his depression. Maybe I could have been given some advice or signs to watch out for, or found out where to go for more help?

One of my goals this year was to join a few more social groups on campus. With working, my course load, and Emmerson (and now Levi, also), the only one I had time to participate in was the Philanthropy Club. This club is perfect for me because it involves volunteering at a bunch of charitable events throughout the year. There are about forty of us and the jobs range from distributing posters and being active on social media to actually working the events. Luckily, it was the club I was most interested in out of all the choices.

I hold the door open for a way-too-excited Emmerson as we enter the bowling alley.

“Slow down, Little Miss. We need shoes, and then we’ll find Levi, but I need you to stay with Mommy. No running off, there are way too many people here. I know you’re excited; Mommy is too,” I assure her. Sounds of falling pins and kids screaming in delight flood my ears as we move toward the rental counter. The Perfect Strike is packed, and Juan, our club’s chair, told me while welcoming us at the door that we have more sponsors and participants today than in previous years.

For me, of course, the best part is Levi. It turns out that the main sponsor over the last three years has been Pub Fiction. I had to laugh last week when Emmerson asked him to sponsor her for her “Bowl-a-fawn”. Her face lit up like a Minion eating a banana when he gave her a hundred bucks and then shared with me how Pub Fiction and Juan teamed up three years ago and have been running this event with increasing success ever since.

“Hi, there, my sweet Scooby,” he calls before scooping her up into his arms. Holy moly, is he looking all sexy in his dark-wash jeans and that blue button-down which pulls just tightly enough across his chest that I can see all the dips and grooves of his muscles. He looks so delicious, hell, I just wanna dip a scone in him and drink him all up like a pumpkin-spice latte.
What the hell is happening to me?
I’m like a raging hormone around this man.

“Hi, Scrappy,” he says, leaning in for a kiss and whispering into my ear. “I’ve missed you two, glad you’re finally here.” It feels good being with Levi like this, out in the open as a couple, acting like boyfriends and girlfriends do.

“Me too.” I nestle myself close to him as we walk—his left arm around my waist and Emmerson held tight in his right—to our lane, where we will be bowling with Ryker and Kat.

She spots us first, and I have to admit that as Kat approaches I’m a bit nervous. I’ve yet to meet Ryker or Kat (except to wave politely at one another across the lobby of the movie theatre that day), but Levi has told me all about them, including their crazy courtship, how great they are, as well as how much he loves them both. You’d think I would feel comfortable, knowing so much about them already, but I really want their approval in regard to me and Emmerson.

My nerves evaporate immediately as the smiling brunette with friendly emerald eyes comes over and gives me a warm hug.

“Hi!” she waves, “you must be Braunwyn. I’m Kat, and this here is Ryker,” she points to the handsome man now glued to her back. “We’ve heard so much about you, it’s so good to finally meet you. I’m looking forward to spending the day all together,” Kat beams, causing any tension I had been feeling to dissipate.

“And this here,” Levi comes closer, bringing Emme with him, still in his arms, “is my pal Scooby, but you can call her Emmerson.”

“Hi, Emmerson. I’m Kat and this is Ryker. Are you excited to bowl? We’re gonna beat the pants off these boys, aren’t we?”

“Yes, I so wanna beat the boys. I wove bowlin’,” she smiles and all the adults laugh.

“Hey, Scooby, no fair. I thought you were on my side? I thought we were Mystery Inc.?”

“Oh, sorry, Shaggy. I gotta be wif the girls. We are the winners, you know.”

*

The afternoon progresses
with ease; we’re all having so much fun. Levi is a natural with Emmerson; he will make such an amazing father one day to some lucky little girl or boy. For a split second, that notion makes my eyes sting as I sit picturing Levi being a father, married to another woman. One who isn’t me. The vision causes a short sharp stab in my stomach, one that is surprisingly painful.

I worry that my little girl will never experience that bond, that unrelenting love that comes so unconditionally from a father. My heart hurts at these thoughts but then I shake them off as best I can, thinking instead of all the good my sweet baby girl has in her life:
Grams, London, me, and for now, Levi
. I mean, how many little girls have three strong women who would do absolutely anything for them, or a crazy bond with an incredible friend like Levi? Just as I’m wiping away an errant tear, Levi is standing in front of me, having appeared out of nowhere as if he knew I was thinking of him, wanting him.
His comfort. His words. Him.

“It’s your turn, Scrappy. You ready?”

I see mirth radiating from his eyes, their colouring crystal clear, reflecting his happiness and the realization hits me that he’s chosen us. He wants to be in our lives, as much as we want him there. A wave of contentment washes over me. I inwardly smile at a realization hitting me, that other than Emmerson, Grams and London, Levi Eddison is quickly becoming my favourite person.

“Um, what are you doing crossing enemy lines, Mr. Eddison? No boys allowed over here,” I tease, shaking off my sulky mood.

“Seeing as Ryker and Kat took Scooby to go buy drinks and hot dogs for everyone, I figured I’d give you some bowling pointers, ’cause honestly, baby, you’re kind of letting your team down.” He comes up close behind me, grabs my hand in his, and mimes throwing a bowling ball.

“Huh. I see. I hadn’t realized I was bringing ‘Team Pink Girls’ (as Emme named us) down.” I rub my chin like I’m deep in thought. “I’m pretty sure the score implies otherwise, Mister,” I add, nodding to the overhead monitor.

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands in mock surrender, “maybe I just needed some close-time with my girl.” He spins me around and kisses me on the lips.

“Hi,” I say softly, looking up at him as the kiss ends way too soon for my liking.

“Hi, baby. You better, now? You looked so serious there a couple minutes ago. I thought you might have needed to get out of that head of yours.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I was just thinking about…things,” I sigh. “I think I’m getting ready to have that big talk with you that I’ve been putting off. I think it’s time I open up to you. Maybe tonight I can get Grams to keep an eye on Emme after bed and I’ll come over?”

“Mmmm, I’d like that, Scrappy,” he quickly nuzzles my neck and there’s an immediate zing right to my clit. “You always smell so fuckin’ good. Now, let me teach you how to bowl like a champ. Back to the regular scheduled program of fun. We can play serious later. As long as we’re good, it can all wait,” he muses walking us over to the ball dispenser.

“We’re more than good,” I say, reaching for a hot pink ten-pound ball, which in turn causes him to laugh, “Of course you pick the pink one, you’re such a girl, Daniels. You two and your damned pink.” Taking the ball from my hand he stands behind me, my ass to his groin, not perfectly aligned because of our height difference but I can certainly feel his proximity.

“Now we’re going to try with the ball in your hands, but first I have to show you how to hold it properly. As much as your form is sexy as fuck, it just won’t do for knocking down pins,” he laughs, as he grabs both of my arms, moving them out in front of us.

His touch is intimate as he positions my fingers over the holes all the while giving me soft words of encouragement and rubbing his stubble along my neckline.
I swear I’m going to drop the damn ball if he keeps it up.

“That’s it, baby, you’re looking good. Just keep that arm straight while you bring it back and let her go.” I do as he says and wouldn’t you flippin’ know it but I get a bloody strike. “YES!” Levi instantly picks me up off my feet and spins us around in the lane. He kisses me tenderly on the mouth, but not before pulling me in so his mouth is at my ear again, whispering:
“I swear to Christ, Braun, you’re fucking killing me, baby, the way you pushed that ass out as you let the ball go. The things I wanna do to you are so not appropriate for family bowling day.”
At his use of “family,” my breath hitches. It sounds so inclusive, and I like the idea of being close with these amazing Eddison men and Kat.
“But fuck if I can’t stop thinking of all kinds of dirty things I’d like to be doing right now.”
My knees bend in weakness at his words while a soft strangled whimper escapes my throat.

“Soon baby, soon,” he says. “I know we need to talk first. Anticipation makes it better and all that bullshit, right?” He winks at me.

“Mommy! I saw you got a strike! You’re awesome!” I pull back from Levi as I hear Emmerson pattering across the hardwood toward me, her arms open wide and a mustard stain on her pink tunic, the one London just brought her for Christmas. She squeezes my legs tight. “Shaggy, show me the strike. I want one.”

“You got it, Scooby. Let’s go chase that strike. Better yet, let’s go hunt down the coveted turkey!” He takes her hand and leads her to the top of the lane.

“Turkey? There aren’t turkeys here, Shaggy, it’s not a farm!” Emmerson scolds.

“Oh, I promise you, little buddy, there are turkeys here. They’re special strike turkeys, very hush hush and hard to get. You wanna see them?”

“Ohh, a mystery! Yes, wet’s go.”

And, of course, after the cutest bowling lesson and getting to check out Levi’s fine ass and form as he teaches Emmerson how to “granny toss” the ball, she indeed unleashes the coveted turkey after successfully getting three strikes in a row. “Mommy, Mommy! Wook, wook! I did it. I made the turkey dance.” She’s jumping up and down. On the screen above the lane, a cartoon turkey is strutting around the screen, while fireworks explode in the background. I reach for my phone and catch a few pictures as she stands there mesmerized by the screen.

Yeah, Levi Eddison’s middle name should be Knight. And with that, I hear the push of the bulldozer as the last piece of my once iron-clad wall falls.
Damn this man.

The rest of the afternoon goes perfectly. Levi, Kat, and Ryker keep Emmerson entertained as I do a short shift at the raffle table. We also make plans with Kat and Ryker to go out on a double-date someday soon, as Kat and I hit it off. She and I spent some time chatting, and I think the best part was getting the low-down on how the Eddison men are a couple of mama’s boys.

By the end of the day, I’m excited to learn from Juan that the “Bowling for the Health of It” campaign raised over seven thousand dollars this year for Kids Help Phone, and I couldn’t be more proud. My only regret is that this is only my first time attending. I wish I hadn’t spent the last four years living in a puddle of murky water where the tears always managed to overshadow the laughter. But I’ve come a long way in the last five months.

Now to get past the biggest hurdle: telling Levi about Shawn.

Levi

A
fter I drop
Braun and Scooby off, I head to Pub Fiction to check in on things. A big smile creeps up on me as I think about Emmerson’s little happy dance when we finally managed to get her the three strikes in a row needed for the turkey to appear. I thought I was gonna have to pay the guy behind the counter to do me a solid, but it would have been worth it.

It was the same little dance she did a couple of weeks ago on Christmas Day when I gave her the dollhouse Braun told me Santa wanted to get for her but couldn’t afford, seeing as she plays Santa pretty much alone each year.

Obviously, I got in all kinds of shit with Braun for buying it, but I just explained that Scooby—like her—is my friend and that friends are allowed to buy friends gifts, especially at Christmas. That’s also how I justified the new pink iPod I had bought Braun. In the end, all she could do was smile and shake her head at me.
Damn these girls and the things I’ll do for smiles.

“What are you grinning like an idiot about?” Luke bellows as I make my way into the office where he’s working on payroll, a job I’ve recently let him take over.

“Nothing, man. Just had a great day, is all. The bowl-a-thon was an even bigger success this year.”

“Okay, boss, if that’s what’s making you happy, I’ll believe it.
Pfft.
Not,” he laughs. “You’re so full of shit. You know it and I know it. Hell, we all know it.”