Carried Away

“Eh, I dunno,” my sister, the bitch, says. “Dad deserves better than that.”

“What are you talking about?! That’s exactly what Dad needs. I’ll tell you what he doesn’t need––another social climber that will ask him to make changes he’s not ready to make. Like sell the hotel and travel the world. Dad would hate that.”

My sister laughs. “Who are you, Dr, Phil now? Don’t draw up the marriage contract yet. She might be a vendor.”

“Yeah? You stroke your vendor’s hair when he makes a delivery to the office?”

“Never mind,” she says, giggling.

For years we’ve been gently trying to encourage him to date. My father has the biggest heart and so much life to live. He should share it with someone that values and worships him. He doesn’t deserve to be alone for the rest of his life because he was burned by one conniving fraudster.

“Oh, oh, Jackie I gotta go. I think he’s going to kiss her and I need to get closer!”

“Don’t hang up on me! Wait! Take pictures––” I hear Jackie hiss right before I hang up. Take pictures…the hormones are making her crazy.

Sticking my phone in the back pocket of my black skinny jeans, I move from the azalea bush to the evergreen hedge.

They’re standing even closer now, huddled together. I watch as he leans down and places a brief kiss on her lips, this mystery woman who seems to have stolen his heart right from underneath my nose. She must have because knowing my Dad, he wouldn’t be here with her if he didn’t have feelings.

It’s about bloody time.

He’s wasted too many of good years pining for Zelda. I know more than a few single women in town who have been going after him with a full court press only to be disappointed with a gentle rebuttal.

“What are you doing?” a scratchy male voice inquires.

Startled, I whip around. Jake is standing halfway between my cottage and the hedge, approximately ten feet away from me. The volume of his voice is way too high for lurking and spying so I make a face and place my index finger over my mouth. That’s when I notice his attire. Or lack thereof. He’s shirtless and sweaty, taking deep breaths from the run he just returned from.

Without a word, he marches over, his black silky shorts clinging to every muscle as he walks. Other parts too, but I do my best not to stare. I mean, I’m not a total savage. His chest, however, is fair game. Needless to say, I look my fill.

“What are you doing?” he repeats in a completely regular volume.

“Nothing. Nothing. I’m doing nothing. Shhhh.”

Popping out his ear pods, he studies me, then follows my line of sight. “That’s strange because it looks like you’re spying on your father.”

“Keep your voice down!” I whisper. “And bend your knees. Get down or he’ll see you.”

Crouching next to me, he places his hands on his knees and watches me while I watch my dad. “This is wrong.”

“Duly noted. Now can you please shhhhush.”

He’s so close his bare arm brushes up against mine and my pulse quickens. Although I have a sweater on, it doesn’t change the fact that I can feel him. It’s a narcotic to the senses––and completely distracting. There should be a warning label taped to his ass.

“Stop staring at me,” I mutter.

“Why? You don’t like it?”

My lips quiver with the need to laugh. Funny Jake might be my favorite Jake. “No. It’s distracting. You’re distracting me while I’m in the middle of some very important investigative work.”

“You’re spying on your dad.”

“Whatever,” I hiss, and bite down on my lip to school the grin. It’ll only encourage him to continue.

Meanwhile, across the way, the heat between the mystery lady and my dad turns up to medium hot. And while I watch, I’m increasingly reminded that it was only a few days ago that Jake and I were doing much of the same and worse.

He hasn’t broached the subject and neither will I. It’s not like I can just ask him what he’s thinking. For instance, if he liked it as much as I did. If he still thinks we have chemistry. For all I know, he’s had his taste and has lost interest. The latter may actually break me.

The kiss turns passionate, and a growing feeling of discomfort crawls over my skin. Jake’s right. This is wrong. Maybe spying, surveilling, whatever isn’t such a hot idea. I’m about to walk away when they pull apart, and Dad opens the back door to the family residence.

Oh my God, he’s having this woman sleep over for the night!

I’m seconds from calling Jackie and dropping this bombshell in her lap when another one explodes right in my face.

The mystery woman turns and the ground beneath my feet evaporates.

It’s Zelda.

All the blood leaves my face. I blink and blink, trying to make her disappear but it doesn’t happen. It doesn’t stop me from trying again, however. Vaguely, I can feel Jake’s strong, stoic presence next to me, but everything else is white noise at this point.