Decker's Wood (12 page)

“Assholism, I’ve heard of that, it can be very debilitating.” Even though her hand was so much smaller than mine, it fit. “Hi, I’m Andi Jennings, the girl who was too shy to give you the attention you so obviously craved as a teenager. I grew up though, I’m not so shy anymore
, and I attend Geeks Anonymous in an attempt to haul my head out of books long enough to develop real relationships rather than fictional ones. It appears I also have a small problem with being a self-righteous bitch, so I’m going to work hard on fixing that.” She let my hand go and it took everything I had not to reach for her again.

“The word bitch does not exist beside your name, Country. Everything you said that morning was pretty much one hundred percent right. And for the record,” I pulled the car
onto the street, leaving the peeping tom neighbors behind, “you didn’t say anything that I haven’t already heard from a therapist.”

“You see a therapist?” she balked.

“I did for a short time. So, what have you been up to for the last three days? Did you miss me?” I gave her a smile which I knew dropped panties faster than a cheetah on crack. She blushed and shook her head.

“Don’t think I didn’t miss the convenient change in subject.” She laughed. “And yes, I missed you. Last night I spent the entire evening locked in my bathroom because I thought I saw a rat, and I had no one to call to come rescue me.”

I arched a brow in disbelief. “You spent the whole night in there? Why didn’t you call Casey or Lionel?”

“Because they couldn’t get in even if I did call them, and there was no way I was stepping outside the door of my safe zone. Anyway, I had the essentials to keep me alive: toilet, water, curling iron.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“In the bathtub,” she answered. “It was a little chilly and I considered filling it with warm water, but then I was frightened I might drown or something.”

Way to make a guy feel like douche of the year. Andi had avoided me to the point of sleeping in a bathtub and having unrequited phone sex with some dude who had a foot fetish.

“You can call me anytime you need, Country. I don’t care if we’ve had an argument, you need help, even saving from a rat,
you call me.” I gave her a pointed look to let her know I wasn’t saying this simply to humor her. If she needed rescuing from her table top, then I would be there, nothing could stop me.

“You might take that back when I’m calling you at three in the morning to come catch a spider,” she murmured.

I groaned. “You’re scared of spiders, too?”

“What’s not to be scared of? They have eight legs! Who the hell needs eight legs? That’s not right, it’s abnormal.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Hell, I had missed her. It had only been three days since I had last seen her, but that three days had felt like a lifetime. As unexperienced in relationships as I was, I had no idea if that was normal or not. The thought of being with Andi felt much easier than not being with her. I had no idea how I was going to get this girl out of my system.

*

My father loved Andi. He hadn’t said as much, but he didn’t need to; I could see it in the way he couldn’t stop smiling at her and the way he kept giving me a nod of approval. I could almost hear the cogs turning in his brain. I just knew that Mom would be calling tonight, inviting the two of us to dinner. We would be as good as married in a week.

“Wow, they’re beautiful,” Andi murmured as she took in the framed photos of some of the Manhattan buildings we had restored. A professional photographer had taken them, highlighting the delicate and subtle touches that made our restorations sit apart from the rest. When Steele Structures took on a building to restore it to its former glory, we tried to keep as true to the building’s original origins as possible, respecting the
building’s history and unique appearance. We always added our own flare and finishing touches to incorporate the strength and brilliance that the New York skyline had to offer, but each and every project was treated as its own, separate from the rest, to give the building its own distinctive appearance.

“We missed your building though,” said Dad as he leaned against his desk. “I’m surprised Decker overlooked that opportunity. We’ll have to look into the street and see if there is anything else for sale.”

Andi’s gaze darted to mine. “You work with your dad?” she asked, shocked.

Before I could answer, Dad laughed loudly. “That’s Decker for you, far too humble. He owns half this business. We’re equal partners. If it wasn’t for him, Steele Structures wouldn’t have been born; he fronted the money to get it off the ground.”

Andi’s face was full of understandable confusion.

“Okay, well, thanks for the tour, Dad
. We gotta get going.” I all but dragged Andi back to the car. With a final wave, we drove out of the parking lot and headed back to the city.

“I guess you
must really enjoy it,” Andi said after a short silence. “I mean, you obviously have a good thing going with your dad, but you still do the adult film stuff, so, you must really have a passion for it. That’s really admirable, Decker. If everyone could have a job that they liked that much, I think people, in general, would be much happier.”

I went to say yes, I did enjoy it and it was a passion, but I hesitated. Saying such a thing felt automatic, like an ingrained response that came from my head and not my heart. At one time, I did love my work, but something had changed long before Andi came along. The doctors had assured me it was a psychological change that hampered my performance, and the therapists confirmed their prognosis, assuring me that so long spent in an industry that required such a massive ignorance of my emotions was damaging me from the inside out. The more I really thought about it, the clearer it became. I didn’t enjoy my work anymore. Yes, I found comfort in something that was familiar, and I enjoyed the physical connection with the women. It was safe. No heavy emotional attachments but I still received the sexual stimulation and friendship I needed. I liked the reputation I had earned in the industry. I liked the celebrity status. Until now, now it all seemed insignificant and I wanted something more. I wanted to feel my heart beat for a woman; I wanted the powerful draw to someone; I wanted to feel what my parents felt, that unconditional love and acceptance of one person. I had been living a dream
, where I thought I was the man every man wanted to be, when in fact, I was alone and unfulfilled. I had some time up my sleeve to explore this…thing with Andi. Four weeks to open my heart and see where things led. Four weeks before filming on The Bishop’s set began. Four weeks to shove twelve years of avoidance and emotional detachment aside. Just thinking about it felt therapeutic.

“I want to experience the real New York.” Andi’s voice pulled me from my epiphany. “I haven’t seen the city yet. I want to get out and do something fun, see something only real New Yorkers know about.”

My eyes did an involuntary perusal of her dress and boots. Not too dressy, but good enough. I gave her a wink when she arched a brow my way.

“One true New York experience coming up.”

*

Gallow Green was usually booked weeks in advance, but a little sweet talking, and a lot of cash had Andi and I standing in the elevator that would take us to the rooftop bar. Andi shuffled nervously as the creepy elevator attendant stared down at her with a deadpan expression. He was a constant fixture in this elevator and did a great job at making everyone feel uncomfortable. Andi’s body instinctively
leaned towards mine, and I threw my arm across her shoulders to pull her close, sending the attendant a discreet wink to thank him for his eerie persona that had sent the girl into my arms. His lip twitched as he repressed a smile and continued to stare at Andi. When we stepped onto the rooftop, I felt a satisfied sense of accomplishment at her not so subtle gasp. It was like walking into an overgrown, rustic garden, situated on the rooftop of an unassuming Manhattan building. Green leafy vines grew across archways, and plants and lanterns lined the pathways around tables and chairs. Tonight, a band played gentle swinging tunes from the fifties as the usual murmur of a busy New York evening filled the air. I pulled Andi along as she tried to take everything in, her mouth perpetually agape. I ordered us each a beer and found an empty bench that overlooked the Manhattan west side to sit. A tin bucket of daisies sat at Andi’s feet, and she delicately brushed her fingers over the flowers.

“I love it,” she murmured.

I knew she would. It was her thing, earthy and idyllic, perfect for a country girl in the city. She had pulled her hair loose from its ponytail, and I found myself wanting to play with the long strands that fell over her shoulders and back. Not so subtly, I stretched my arm behind her and took the liberty of twisting one gentle falling curl around my finger. Andi gave me a ‘what the’ look but didn’t say anything. And she didn’t pull away either. I could barely contain my satisfied smile. On the car ride here, I had explored the life changing realization that had hit me and then had made a decision. Get the girl. Once I was focused on a task, nothing would deter me. I felt strangely at peace with my decision to explore a relationship with Andi. I should have cared that this could mess up our friendship; I should have cared that she might not reciprocate my feelings; I should have cared that I could easily hurt her. My experience with relationships was non-existent; I could, and possibly would, screw this up. I should have cared that in a month I would be screwing another woman on film. I didn’t though. I just felt...tranquil…and horny.

Andi leaned back into my arm and let her gaze settle on the vines that grew over our heads. My eyes dropped to her leg where her dress had slipped up, giving me a tantalizing tease of her upper thigh. I could see my hands on her skin, a contrast of colors and textures. Where Andi was soft and milky white, I was hard and olive. She was so small, I was so big. Stark disparities that I knew would complement each other perfectly.

“I never thought being here in New York would feel right. I mean, I knew it’s what I wanted, it was my dream, but I honestly thought I wouldn’t fit in.”

I somehow dragged my eyes from her legs, leaned back, and took in the view of the Manhattan skyline. “People can fit in just about anywhere, depending on their attitude. You have a good attitude, you’re determined and passionate, and I guess it helps that you’re a little crazy and happy to talk to strangers.” She hit my chest and I laughed.

“Bradley made a bet that I won’t last more than three months,” she murmured unhappily.

I snorted. “Bradley’s an asshole. He should be supporting you, not placing bets on when
you’ll fail. I’m going to kick his ass for you next time I see him.”

“I can kick his ass, and he is supporting me; he’s the one who convinced me move here. He said I needed to travel and explore the world to be sure I found my place in it. Then he said he thought I belonged in a pokey little town miles from everywhere, with a gentle husband and a hoard of children under my roof.” Andi shook her head. “I hate being miles from everywhere. I grew up miles from everywhere and I always felt alone and secluded. I have no intention of breeding a football team, and although I don’t like to be handcuffed, I’m not particularly interested in a gentle man.” It was a challenge not to cough up my mouthful of beer. “What about you?” she asked, and I gave her a sideways glance.

“I’m not into men, period.” She slapped me on the chest again and this time I caught her hand beneath mine and held it there. I could feel her confusion, and offering her a reprieve from the awkward moment, I let her go.

“Jackass. I mean, where is your place in this world? Is this it? Do you think you will get married one day? Do you want kids?”

Wow, talk about buzz kill, I’d only just realized I might want to embark on my first real relationship less than an hour ago, and now she wanted to talk marriage and kids?

“I’m not big on thinking about the future. I guess I’m one of those guys who’s happy to tackle life one day at a time.” Even though she didn’t say anything, I could see the disappointment in her eyes, and for some reason, I really didn’t want to disappoint her. I thought about it, my life,
my future. I’m not sure I could see myself married with kids, but I knew I couldn’t see myself with the life I had thus far created. “I’m not sure if this is my place.” I shrugged. “I love New York, I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, but I like the idea of traveling. I wouldn’t mind dropping by England to beat some sense into Bradley. I’ve always wanted to see Europe.”

She was grinning with approval now which helped re-stir the tightness in my groin. “I’d love to see Greece and Spain and Italy,” Andi exclaimed. A comfortable silence descended on us. “I’m sorry about the other day. I shouldn’t have suggested you don’t respect women and all that crap. I really overstepped my boundaries making those assumptions about you,” she whispered.

“You didn’t overstep any boundaries, Country. Let’s just put that morning behind us and move forward.”

“I’m all for leaving the past in the past.” She settled her empty drink down on the old wooden coffee table before us and leaned back into my arm. Her leg brushed mine
, and I enjoyed the feeling of warmth that sparked between us. She lolled her head to one side and glanced up at me. “Maybe once I’ve finished kicking New York’s ass, we could travel together. I promise I wouldn’t cramp your style; I’ll be the perfect wing-woman and I’ll even help you beat the blazes out of Bradley.”