June in August (5 page)

Read June in August Online

Authors: Samantha Sommersby

Tags: #Erotic Romance, Historical Romance, New Adult Romance

BOOK: June in August
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I could hear Wiley and Jared visiting in the back yard. The brick patio that contained the grill was right below the bathroom window. I could hear their voices, but not what they were saying.

I stepped into the bath, sank down deep into the water, and closed my eyes. As soon as the tub was sufficiently filled I leaned forward and turned off the taps.

Silence.

“Uh, Wiley?”

“Yeah?”

“The water in the bathroom just shut off.”

I began to feel as if I were about to hyperventilate again.

“I imagine that means that the bath is full.”

“You have company?”

“More like a dinner date.”

“With a woman? There’s a woman in there? You have a woman in your bathroom?”

“I find that men just don’t do it for me. Sorry, Jared.”

“Does she know what a sarcastic asshole you are?”

“I suspect so,” replied Wiley.

“Wow. Gotta give it to you, Wiley. You work fast. How long is she going to be in town for? Am I gonna get to meet her?”

“She lives here, Jared.”

“You’re living with someone? What did your momma say? Jesus you’re brave, Wiley!”

“Not that brave. I meant that she lives here in town. Although, I must admit, the thought of keeping her here is appealing. Want another beer? I’m gonna take a quick shower…”

I’d heard enough to know that my life was now utterly and completely doomed. I slid under the water intent for the moment on drowning myself. I counted to 60. When my lungs were burning I emerged with a gasp.

“You decide to get your hair wet after all?” Wiley asked, calm as could be. “Scoot forward.”

“What?”

“Scoot forward. I want to rinse off. And, since your hair’s wet I can wash it. I’ve always wanted to wash your hair.”

“You need to get dressed! You’re too…distracting like that. Plus, I’m mad at you!”

“Me? June, why are you mad at me?”

“Shh! Don’t say my name! He’ll hear!”

“So?”

“Oh, Wiley!” I half sobbed as I let my face fall into the palms of my hands.

The day had been too much. It was all becoming more than I could bear. I couldn’t help it. Despite the fear of being overheard, I started to cry.

“Shh!” soothed Wiley as he stepped into the tub behind me. “Please don’t cry, baby. Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry. I… Have you forgotten what it’s like? Wiley, this doesn’t look good. We’re in the midst of a bonafide crisis here! And you don’t seem to understand that—”

Wiley placed his hand gently over my mouth to silence me. “I’m gonna tell you something and I want you to listen. Okay?”

I nodded slowly and Wiley removed his hand.

“War changes a man, June. The things that used to scare me, cause me nightmares, they’ve changed. I’m not worried about people talking behind my back. I’ve been too busy trying to stay alive.”

“What if it matters to me?” I asked, quietly.

Wiley picked up a bottle of shampoo from the edge of the tub, squirted some into his hand, and started to work it through my hair.

He didn’t say a word. He just continued to work the lather through my hair in silence, his strong fingers massaging my scalp.

When he was done he leaned down and kissed my shoulder. “Scoot forward and lean back. It’s time to rinse.”

I moved all the way forward in the tub. My knees were pulled up to my chest. Then I looked back over my shoulder at Wiley.

“Trust me. Lean back.”

And I did. I did trust him. It was all those other people I didn’t trust. All those other people whose opinions I feared. I leaned back. Wiley’s hands reached underneath my head, cradling it, holding it just above the surface of the water. I felt my hair fan out and float around my shoulders.

I looked up at Wiley. He began to concentrate on the task of rinsing the soap from the ends of my hair, running his fingers through it. He lifted my neck up and the top of my head lowered a bit more. He continued to rinse, cupping clean water in the palm of his hand and pouring it over my head.

“You know,” he said, “before I left for Vietnam, I saw you one night, out at the lake.”

Wiley paused for a moment, then continued. “You didn’t seem to even know I was there. It was pitch dark and I was sitting on the edge of the dock. You and Tracy Garland had come for a late night swim. The night was hot. We were having a heat wave. You were wearing that pink two-piece suit. You floated right past me on your back. You’re hair was spread out around you just like this. You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

Wiley lifted my head up out of the water and I sat up. He wrapped his arms around my waist and slid me closer to him. My back was right up against his chest and I could feel his arousal against me, hard and firm. He picked up the bar of soap from the side of the tub, dipped it into the water, and then began to rub it across my breasts and over my stomach.

“I knew that very night, June,” he said, releasing the soap.

He began to massage my breasts. Allowing the weight of them to rest fully in the palms of his hands. He squeezed them gently and then brushed his fingertips across my nipples.

I found myself relaxing against him. It was strange. On the one hand I felt complete languor and on the other I felt as if I was as tight as a bow. Wiley rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on them.

“I knew it would just be a matter of time,” he whispered, huskily, before sliding his hand down between my legs and separating my folds.

“Time before what?” I managed to gasp, my voice hitching as the pad of his thumb began to circle my swollen nubbin.

Wiley kissed my shoulder again. “Before I’d make you mine.”

“Wiley? The coals seem hot enough. Do you want me to put the potatoes on?” yelled Jared from outside the window.

Hearing his voice right then was just like having someone splash ice-cold water in my face. Apparently, it was that way a bit for Wiley too. He sighed and released me. Then he used his toes to pull down the lever on the stopper.

“You’re hair’s already wet,” he pointed out. “Get on up. I’ll start the shower so we can rinse off.”

I did as he asked. I stood up and turned to face him. He smiled at me, then leaned down and kissed me on the tip of my nose.

“I’ve waited a long while for you June. I suppose I can wait a bit more.” Then he shouted so that Jared could hear, “Go ahead. We’ll be out in a minute.”

“I can’t go out there!” I whispered as we switched places.

Wiley didn’t say a word. He just started the shower and went about washing. It was almost as if he’d forgotten I was there. I watched him as he leaned back under the spray of the water. The taut muscles of his abdomen were stretched and they flexed pleasantly as he lifted his arms to rinse the last of the shampoo from his hair.

“I’m going to shave,” he said. “Are you through?”

I hadn’t really finished washing. So I shook my head. Wiley nodded. Then he stepped out of the shower, leaving me alone. He was just on the other side of the curtain, but he might as well have been on the other side of the world I felt so alone. I soaped up my body and quickly rinsed. My stomach was in knots as I turned off the taps.

The curtain flew open and I must have jumped a mile. Wiley was standing there, freshly shaven with a towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hand.

“Towel?”

“Thanks,” I replied, accepting it. I wrapped it around my body and then took a moment to squeeze the excess water from my hair before stepping out of the tub.

Wiley walked up behind me, a wide-toothed comb in his hand. “Your dress is still wet,” he said, running the comb through my hair, taking care with the tangles. “I guess you’re stuck wearing my shirt. Not that I’m disappointed.”

He set the comb down and then he opened the door. Wiley picked the shirt up off the floor of the hallway and then held it out for me, holding it open so that I could slip my arms into the sleeves. When I didn’t step out of the bathroom, he came to me. I reached for the shirt and made short order of putting it on, buttoning it up to the very top and rolling up the long sleeves.

“I—I’ll just wait in the bedroom until it’s dry.”

“Nonsense, that’ll take all night,” he said, bending over. Wiley grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

I squealed and began to squirm in an effort to get him to release me.

“Have you gone round the bend? Put me down!”

“Keep moving like that and you’re likely to give Jared a free show,” he said, opening the door and walking down the hallway, through the kitchen and out to the back yard.

“Jared, you remember June,” said Wiley as he set me down. You’d have thought we were standing outside of the Piggly Wiggly, that’s how normal he sounded. You never would have guessed that he was standing there in nothing but a towel and me in only a shirt. I was mortified, totally and completely mortified. And Jared? Well he was just gaping at the two of us like a big ol’ fish. His mouth was wide open with surprise.

“Close your mouth, Jared. And stop staring,” said Wiley, walking over to test the temperature of the coals. “It’s not polite. You’re going to make June uncomfortable.”

I looked away. I wasn’t focusing on anything in particular. I just couldn’t look at Jared.

“Always a pleasure to see you, June. How’s the family.”

I looked over at Jared. He seemed determined to act as if everything was ordinary. Well, then so was I.

“Fine,” I replied. “Just fine.”

“That’s good.”

“Except Sam’s number got called yesterday, they’ve gone down to Houston so that one of the Army doctors can check him out. They should be home tomorrow though.”

Jared nodded and took a long pull on his beer. He lowered the bottle slowly. “Um, Wiley?”

“Yeah? Want another beer? It’ll be a minute or two before I can put the steaks on.”

“I think that old Mrs. Mason’s about to faint. Maybe you and June should go put some clothes on.”

I looked over and there she was. My third grade teacher was standing in the middle of her vegetable garden, a basket of tomatoes tucked under one arm, staring at me and Wiley. Oh, God. What she must have been thinking.

“Dear Lord!” I gasped, my hand flying up to cover my mouth.

Wiley waved to Mrs. Mason and then strolled over towards me, leaned down, and kissed me square on the mouth. “You’ve sullied my reputation now, June,” he said solemnly when he broke off the kiss. “I hope that you’re prepared to do the honorable thing and marry me.” Then he walked into the house, leaving me standing out in the back yard with Jared.

A few seconds ticked by.

“So,” said Jared, breaking the silence. “You’re folks are in Houston, huh?”

“I know this doesn’t look good—”

“Actually, you look quite fetching.”

“Wiley and I…”

“It’s none of my business, June. Wiley’s my best friend. It’s obvious he’s crazy about you. He’s a bit fragile, June. Just…just don’t toy with him. If you and Peter had some sort of fight, or you’re just looking for a way to sow some wild oats before getting married I just—”

“I am
not
seeing Peter Johnson!” I practically shouted. “Why on earth does everyone assume that I’m going to marry Peter Johnson? Good Lord!”

“Well, you and Peter went out all through high school.”

“Peter’s a homosexual!” I finally yelled out in frustration.

Mrs. Mason gasped.

Jared looked horrified.

The screen door banged shut. Wiley walked past me, dressed in a fresh white t-shirt and clean blue jeans. He was carrying a plate with two big rib eyes on it.

“I always knew there was something funny about that boy,” he said.

“Please don’t say anything!” I begged Jared.

“About?”

I smiled. “Thank you, Jared”

“No sweat, Junebug. I’d best be going. Can I at least spread gossip about the two of you?”

“No!” Wiley and I said in unison.

Wiley looked at me and asked that I show Jared to the door. Then he put the steaks on the grill and began to walk over to the Mason’s. I said a quick goodbye to Jared. When I came back out, Wiley was walking back towards me and Mrs. Mason was dabbing at the corners of her eyes with the edge of her apron.

“Maybe I should go,” I said quietly.

Wiley picked up the spatula off the grill, flipped the steaks, and casually asked, “Why?”

“There’ll be gossip, Wiley.”

“Jared won’t say anything. Neither will Mrs. Mason. She’s a good woman. We’ve come to an understanding.”

“What does she understand, exactly?”

Wiley looked up at me and smiled.

“How do you feel about me, June?”

“How do I—”

“Wait! No, that’s not right. You’ve told me how you feel in your letters, haven’t you?”

Wiley walked over to me and ran his hand over my still damp hair.

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