Finding Sunshine (6 page)

“Are you okay?” Aaron asks concerned, setting down his own mug carefully.

“I think I burnt my tawn−gue.”

“Let me kiss it better,” he says grinning, before quickly leaning down and nibbling my lips. When his hand caresses a heated path down my neck onto my breasts, I gasp, giving him a chance to tease my tongue with his own.

Pulling away, he looks at me with darkened blue eyes and asks, “Better?”

“Y-yes,” I somehow manage to say.

“Good. Be careful, it’s hot,” Aaron grins, handing me back my coffee.

“How long have you known Becca and Richard?” I ask, after taking a much more tentative sip of my delicious coffee.

“Dicky and I were roommates all through college.”

“Do you call him that to his face?” I laugh, having never heard anyone call Richard by that nickname.

“Only to annoy him,” Aaron says with a playful grin, sipping his coffee.

We are soon discussing normal, seemingly mundane things, getting to know one another. Laughing. Touching. Enjoying each other's company.

It's perfect.

“Do you want to dance?” I ask, draining the last of the coffee in my mug.

Aaron’s answer is to pluck the empty mug from my hand, then lift me from the barstool, before taking my hand and leading me towards the dance floor.

I guess that’s a yes!

“I don’t see Richard and Becca anywhere,” I observe, as Aaron wraps one arm around my waist and positions me so his hard thigh is between my legs, against my increasingly excited core.

“I doubt they’ll surface again tonight.” Aaron grins down at me as he sneaks his hand under his jacket, grabbing onto my waist. “Richard had quite a few plans for them downstairs.”

“I hope they’re having fun.” I reply, running my hands up his chest as the tempo of the music changes to a low, thumping bass.

“Are you?” Aaron palms my backside with his hand as I move against him in time with the music.

“What about you?”

Aaron lets go of me and rocks back on his heels, creating distance between our bodies, just enough to reach up and grab my writs. I gasp as he gently brings my hands behind my back, and with one hand, he holds me captive.

“Does this answer your question?” Aaron asks, as he pulls me in tightly against him, and with one hand behind my neck, draws me into a heated kiss. I hear myself moan softly as I melt into the man’s possession. I can feel his own excitement building against my thigh.

“You like to be dominated. Don’t you?” Aaron breathes into my ear, continuing to hold me captive as he grinds our bodies together in an erotic rhythm.

“I y-yes,” I mumble shyly, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Look at me,” he commands. Cupping my face with his hand, his thumb lightly strokes my cheek.

When I finally get the courage to look into his eyes, what was once a brilliant, sparkling blue has now darkened with desire.

“My kind of woman.” Aaron then fists my hair tightly and tilts my head. I gasp as our lips meet in a heated kiss, swallowing his groan of pleasure. At his words, my entire body flushes with anticipation. Heat rushes through me as his desire causes my stomach to flutter with excitement.

Golly! He might just be perfection, wrapped up in a dream.

Aaron releases my hands and wraps his arms loosely around my body. I run my freed hands slowly up his arms, feeling hardened muscle until they reach his broad shoulders.

“Do you want to go sit somewhere more comfortable?” Aaron asks, as we stop moving with the music still pulsing around us.

“Yes.”

Aaron’s arm crosses my back as his firm hand on my hip steers me through the crowd, leading me over toward the seating area on the far side of the room.

Plopping himself down on one of the loveseats, he takes my hand and gently pulls me down next to him, as close as humanly possible, with our thighs and hips touching. He puts his arm behind me, resting it on the top of the sofa. I can feel his fingers gently playing with the curls on the back of my head, and I find the casual gesture comforting.

Leaning down, Aaron gives me a slow, wet, and all too brief kiss before asking with a grin, “Where would you like to go out tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, for our date.” He says, pulling my body closer as he begins trailing gently nipping kisses along my neck. I’m again safely cocooned in his embrace, and I melt into his side.

When did I start feeling so safe with him? I guess knowing that my friends wouldn’t set me up with some psycho criminal helps.

“What date?”

“The one I’m taking you on,” he says exasperatedly into my neck. He’s acting like we’ve already had this conversation before. I think I’d remember if Mr. Starbucks had asked me out,
trust me!

“Goddamn,” Aaron mutters in annoyance, pulling away. After several deep breaths, he glances over at me nervously. “I want to take you out—out, like on a date.”

“Really?” I ask excitedly.

“Yeah.” Aaron says with a smile in his voice, lifting my legs over his and pulling me into his lap. He then takes my hand in his own. “I told you, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I hadn’t planned on bidding until I saw you on the stage.”

Really?

“Really?”

It’s hard for me to believe that after meeting that morning, he’d even given me a second thought. I looked horrid! My hair was a complete mess. Truthfully, it hadn’t been washed in several days. Not to mention how I must have looked like a bag lady with my camera and messenger hanging off of me.

“Yeah, Sunshine.
Really
,” he answers, seemingly sincere.

“I just thought—I don't know—you were just being nice or something.” I reply, lacing my fingers with his intimately.

“I never say something I don't mean.” Aaron moves his hands to cup my face and tilts it so I’m forced to look into his eyes. After kissing me gently, he continues, “So when I say I couldn’t stop thinking of you, I mean it. Okay?”

“
Okay
,” I whisper against his lips as he kisses me again.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he says heatedly against my now wonderfully swollen lips. “So. Will you go out with me tomorrow night?”

“Yes!” I say, fisting the front of his t-shirt.

Maybe I should’ve played it more cool?

“Good. Tomorrow night, I’ll pick you up and take you out.” He declares, pulling me in for another kiss. Moving his hand up my thigh, he leaves a path of tingling heat in his wake. I tuck my face into his neck, taking the opportunity to breathe him in and press gentle kisses onto his stubbled jaw.

It is getting late and the club has slowly been thinning out, although we still haven’t seen Richard and Becca. Soon, Aaron and I decide to call it a night. After changing back into my leggings and warm, baggy Patriots sweatshirt, I come out of the ladies room to find Aaron leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for me. I can’t help but stop and stare at him.

I don’t want this night to end.

“Ready to go?” Aaron asks brightly, moving away from the wall. With one hand he takes hold of my bags and his sports coat that I had been wearing, then with the other he pulls me gently into his side.

Before I had gone to change back into warmer clothes, it was decided that Aaron would drive me home. I’m perfectly capable of taking a cab or the train back to my apartment, but he insisted on making sure I arrived home safely.

After bundling up in my long down jacket, hat, and scarf, we exit the club. With an arm around my waist, Aaron steers me towards his awaiting truck. I don’t know the first thing about trucks. All I can tell is that it seems to be an older model, and looks well used.
They’re all the same, right?
Four tires, two doors, and a long part in the back that’s open to the air.

By the light of the street lamp, I notice it’s a really rich dark blue color. The hue instantly reminds me of Aaron’s passion-filled eyes, and my body begins to tingle with warmth.
I’m pretty sure that’s my new favorite color.

Opening the passenger side door for me, Aaron makes sure I’m belted in safely and that my bags are tucked at my feet before shutting the door. He then comes around and jumps effortlessly into the driver’s seat.

“Sorry it’s so cold in here. It takes a few minutes for the old girl to heat up,” Aaron says, patting the dashboard affectionately.

“At least I’m not wearing the dress I had on earlier." I smile, trying not to shiver as I touch the freezing leather seats with my bare hands.

“What dress?” Aaron asks. “Oh, you mean that tiny piece of fabric you were wearing?”

“Is that why you gave me your jacket to wear?” I ask, trying to figure this perplexing man out.

“No, you were cold. Dressing like that to go to a club is one thing. I’m just happy you prefer being covered up the rest of the time,” Aaron says looking at me seriously.

“I prefer to be warm, yes.” I then dig into my purse to grab my gloves and put them on.

“What did you think of the game?”

“What game?” I asked confused.
Game, what game
?

“The Super Bowl. You know, the football game.”

“What? No. I hate American football,” I laugh. “It’s great for my insomnia, though.”

“You do know you’re wearing a Patriots sweatshirt, right? That’s a football team, not some boy band,” he chuckles.

“Yes, I know who the Patriots are.” I say, turning slightly in my seat, to get a better view of his profile. “This is my dad’s sweatshirt. I stole it. He’s obsessed with them, and he did watch the Super Bowl. Mom and I were here shopping that weekend.”

In no time at all, we find ourselves pulling up in front of my apartment building.

“
One more taste
,” Aaron whispers. Leaning in, he gently cups my face in his hands. He gives me a gently sucking, nipping kiss that leaves me wanting more, and my hands gripping his arms are not wanting to let go.
Ever.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” I breathe out. “I’d invite you in, but I have a roommate.”

“Yes.” His breath is tickling the hairs around my face as he chuckles.

I smile brightly releasing him from my hold. I’m craving more of what I know this man can give me.

Gentle dominance, and honest affection.

“But not tonight,” he says, smiling and shaking his head. Then, with his thumb and forefinger, he takes my chin and admonishes, “Don’t pout.”

“But—”

“Not tonight,” he says sternly, then leaning in, he runs his nose along my neck and whispers, “there’s always tomorrow.”

I shiver.

“Okay,” I say softly, though every pulse point in my body is pounding in anticipation.

There is no way I’m going to be able to sleep tonight, without taking the edge off first. At least now I wouldn't feel
as
sketchy, like I’m violating him in some way, when I imagine Aaron as I power up Mr. Satisfaction tonight.

Thank goodness I remembered to buy batteries today!

“What time are you done with work tomorrow night?”

Work. Right, that thing you go to where you earn money. Which, I don’t exactly have.
Because I'm a loser, who has no real skills and is supported by her parents.

“I don’t have to work tomorrow,” I say, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Good, I’ll pick you up at five when my shift is over. Make sure to dress warmly. I don’t want you getting cold during your surprise,” he says, smiling brightly.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, Sunshine,” he draws me close, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple.

“Goodnight,” I say, exiting the truck. Walking towards the building, I turn to see him watching me. Waiting for me to get inside safely. Underneath that rough exterior, he really is a gentleman.

The nervousness I felt earlier seems foolish now. I never anticipated seeing Mr. Starbucks again—
Aaron
. But now, it just seems like it was meant to be. It looks like all my good karma is finally paying off. Hopefully this is a sign of amazing things to come.

Golly, I’m in trouble.

~ Aaron ~

“Sarah?” I call out, removing my jacket and hanging it on the hook by the door. Having used the key I’ve had for decades, I let Russell and myself in the backdoor, into the house that I can’t seem to fully move on from. Having grown up in this house, I know every inch, and each one holds countless memories for me.

I can’t blame a horrible childhood for what lead me to prison. These walls have always radiated happiness, and growing up here my life was filled with love and laughter. That all seemed to disappear with the death of our parents. I found myself trapped in a dark place, feeling like I had no other options.

They’d be fucking ashamed of me.

Once we enter the small, cluttered mudroom, Russell trots off making himself at home, as if he owns the place.

“Hey big brother, we’re in the kitchen.” Sarah’s voice can be heard calling out from the next room.

I walk in to find her crouched on the floor, giving Russell the love and attention he demands, and she’s all too happy to give.

“Are you a good boy?” she coos, still focused on him.

“Yes, I’ve been a model citizen lately. Haven’t even J-walked,” I reply, leaning against the door jam.

“I wasn’t talking to you. But that’s good to know,” she says, standing up and facing me. I walk over and giving her an affectionate squeeze.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Sarah?” I ask stepping back, trying to read the expression on her face. “Honestly?”

“Don’t be an ass, Aaron, I never wanted you to move into that shithole to begin with. Are you going to tell me what happened?” Sarah stands before me with her arms crossed against her chest, using a tone that reminds me of our father, and I can’t help the smile that forms on my face.

It had been too late last night after the auction to call, and after a restless night’s sleep—where all I could think of was holding Nina in my arms again—I woke up this morning and called Sarah before heading off to the shelter, leaving a message for her to call me back.

Upon arriving solo at the animal shelter—I left Russell at the apartment today—I quickly began setting up for the workshop with my two eager, almost puppy-like, volunteers. It’s a beginner’s workshop teaching people how to correctly walk with their dog, get their dog to heel, etc.

The entire time, I couldn’t shake the image of Nina cuddling a puppy, and what that would look like
.
Adorable.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

The four hours passed by fairly quickly as I moved around the room, assessing each dog and their individual level of understanding. Like people, some dogs are thicker than others. I’m no Cesar Milan from
The Dog Whisper
, but I can usually spot where the owner is going wrong fairly quickly.

That’s what most people don’t understand. The way an animal behaves most likely has nothing to do with them, and everything to do with their owner.
Unless the animal is just an asshole.
I’ve met several dogs who were born that way. Just like I don’t get along with every person, I don’t get along with every dog. Personality conflicts are bound to happen.

Dogs really need three things: exercise, discipline, and affection. They descend from wild animals, and need to be able to let off their excess energy. To run around and play—
to be a dog
. Not just be cooped up all day in a cage or a studio apartment with no outside access.

They’re also pack animals, and they need to know who their leader is, their master. If you don't step up and assume that role, they will. And the next thing you know, they’ll be the one who’s completely in charge. What most owners struggle with is the balance between being affectionate and letting the animal walk all over them. You do a dog no favors by letting them misbehave. A well-trained dog is a happy dog.

After the last volunteer left and everything had been put away, I made my way back to my apartment. Upon opening the door, Russell bolted off of his bed and came running to greet me, begging for my attention. Wanting the unconditional love of his master. He doesn’t hold my past against me. He only cares that I feed him, take him for walks, and scratch him behind his ears.

“Hey, buddy. Have you been a good boy today?” I asked, crouching down to give him a rubdown. He pressed his body into mine, nearly knocking me over as he rubbed himself against me. No doubt he was trying to erase the scent of the other dogs, which still lingered on me. “Don’t be jealous. You know you’re my main man. Would you like a treat?” At this, he backed away and started jumping around in excitement.

If only making people happy was this easy.

I walked over to the fridge and grabbed the box of dog biscuits that are kept on top.

“Sit,” I commanded, turning to see him sitting and shaking with excitement.

“Good boy,” I said, giving him the treat.

“Gentle.” I reprimanded, when he nearly took off my finger in his exuberance. He practically swallowed the thing whole and then began swinging his head back and forth, looking between me and the box of treats that now sat on the counter.

Grabbing another, I moved and placed it on his bed. He quickly pounced and devoured it. You’d think I fucking starve him or something, the way he acted. If anything, he could probably stand to lose a few pounds.

Making my way towards the closet, I searched for my suitcase. By now, Russell had made himself comfortable on the bed. As I began pulling my clothes out of the dresser and shoving them into the suitcase, his head came up and he looked at me intently. No doubt he was wondering what was going on.

“Don’t worry, you’re coming with me,” I said, rubbing his head.

Once I’d crammed as much as possible into the suitcase, I left it by the door. Russell followed, laying himself down next to it as close as he possibly could, using it as a pillow. Clearly he didn’t trust that I wouldn’t be leaving him behind.

My Dad’s old, beaten to hell Ford F150 was parked behind the building, and I decided to load it up once I’d finished packing. Luckily, the place had been furnished when I moved in, so I only have to worry about gathering my personal stuff. Which is good, since I still didn’t know where I was going to end up. I was banking on Sarah getting back to me before too long.

Next, I took several black garbage bags from under the sink and tossed the rest of my clothing into them. Then finding several empty crates in the storage room downstairs, I began filling them with the rest of my crap.

Who knew I had so much shit?

When I left prison, I only had one garbage bag full of stuff, and that was mostly the books, letters, and photos that my friends and family had sent me. In the four years since, I've accumulated a lot of crap, and not all of it’s mine.

I began collecting all of Russell’s belongings next.
How many fucking toys and collars does one dog need?
Not to mention the amount of beds—he can only sleep on one at time! I had made the decision earlier that I would wait until my shift tonight to tell
The Pint
that I had moved out. I don’t want anything to ruin my mood for my date this evening with Nina.
Our first official date.

Fuck, I wish I didn’t have to work later tonight.

I hope she likes the surprise I have planned!

Just as I’m about to wrangle Russell into his collar so we could go for a walk, Sarah returned my call.

“Hey, Sarah,” I said brightly, answering the phone on the second ring.

“What do you want?” she asked suspiciously.

“Who says I want anything?” I replied, trying to sound innocent.

“Sisterly intuition.”

“I need a place to crash for a bit,” I said hesitantly.

“What’s wrong with your apartment?” she asked cautiously.

I sighed and answered, “As of right now, I n
o
　longer live here. Russell and I are packing up now.”

"Why, what’s happened?”

“Listen, can we not get into it now? Can we stay, or not?”

“Don’t be an ass, of course you can stay. This is your house, too. You’ll have to sleep on the pullout in the basement, though.”

“That’s fine. I wouldn’t want to kick Harry out of his room.” I laugh, before adding softly, “Thanks, sweetheart. I can always count on you.”

Sarah’s one of the few people, aside from Richard, whom I know I can count on.

Fuck, I love my sister!

An hour later, I’m now standing in front of her, not sure how to explain what happened in the last twenty-four hours that has suddenly changed my life so completely. How can I explain what made me go from being completely content to just existing, to wanting to do something to change my life for the better?

How do I explain Nina—my Sunshine?

“I’ve seen the light.” I shift restlessly on my heels and cross my arms across my chest. “Listen, I’ll leave as soon as I get something more permanent figured out. I promise not to overstay my welcome.”

“You know you can stay as long as you need to.” She moves over towards the stove, where there’s a pot of what smells like soup cooking.

“What about Ben? Is he okay with me staying for a bit?” I’ve always gotten along with my brother-in-law, Bennett, and truthfully, I owe him a great deal. He was there for Sarah when I couldn’t be, and for that I’ll always be grateful. He grew up in a house nearby, though his parents have flown south now, and we all knew each other from school.

Sarah and Bennett were in the same year together at school, although they weren’t friends back then. She was on both the prom and yearbook committees, while he was the president of the computer club. It’s no wonder he went on to be some IT guru. Honestly, I have no idea what he does, only that it involves computers, and that he makes fucking bank. They met again when Bennett returned to the area after college. I was in jail awaiting trial, and he was there to support her.

“Of course he doesn’t mind. We both like the free childcare,” she says, turning to give me a bright smile.

“Where is my little dude?” I haven't seen my nephew since his first birthday several weeks ago, and I miss him. He's so sweet, innocent, and filled with joy.
How could that not draw you in?

“He should be up from his nap any minute now.” Sarah begins moving around the kitchen, pulling salad ingredients out of the fridge. “Have you had lunch?”

“Not yet,” I say, moving over to the pot on the stove to get a better look. I tear off a piece of the loaf of bread that’s sitting on the counter and dip it into the thick broth before shoving it into my mouth.
Delicious!

“What are you doing?” Sarah says exasperatedly, pushing me out of the way.

“I’m hungry.”

“Well, Ben will be home in thirty for lunch. So why don’t you go get settled in?” she says, waving her wooden spoon in my direction.

“Why’s he coming home for lunch?” I ask, reaching around her and stealing another piece of bread.

“He’s got a conference this weekend, and is catching a flight to Atlanta late this afternoon.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he’d be gone? I would’ve come and stayed with you.”

“You’re here now, so it doesn’t matter. Plus, I’m perfectly capable of staying home alone,” she says, giving me a hard look. “Now, go empty the truck and settle yourself downstairs.”

“Fine. Is it okay that Russell’s in here?”

“Of course it is, we’re old friends. Aren’t we, Russell?” she asks him, bending down to scratch him behind his ears as he trails behind her, no doubt hoping she’ll drop something delicious onto the floor for him.

“You’re such a sweet boy, aren’t you,” she continues to coo, her voice going several octaves higher than normal. Russell laps up every second of the attention. My sister has always had a soft spot for him, except for the time he chewed up some new expensive pair of boots as a puppy. They may have been the ugliest things I’d ever seen, but he sure loved the sheepskin they were lined with. I’d never seen my sister so angry, almost violent. It was actually
scary
.

I grab several bags from the truck and make my way back inside, heading towards my new home—the half-finished basement. Walking down the stairs, I smile. Even with no notice at all, I see that Sarah has already come down and made the pullout couch into a bed. She’s also laid out several towels for me at the end.

Sarah is like Martha Stewart at times, and is little Miss Homemaker. In that way, she’s just like our mother was. Smart, creative, organized, and thoughtful.
Just like my dream girl.

It’s no wonder that my sister is a successful party planner—
sorry
, Event Organizer. She’s been doing it for years, and has since started up her own company so she can work from home. Sarah didn’t want to give up working, even though she could’ve, but she still wanted to be home with Harry. So she keeps her clientele select, but still gets to do what she loves.

I wish I were that lucky.

In my ideal world, with my dream girl, I would raise and train puppies for a living. English Labradors, to be specific. We’d live in a small house with a large yard, where my dogs and children could run and play and just be—
happy
.