Whispering Wishes (25 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Miller

BOOK: Whispering Wishes
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He grins then takes a bit of an apple slice
. “Nope. Sexiest chicken I ever saw.”

“Shut up.”

When we finish eating, we lie on the ground and after a brief period of watching the clouds, roll to our sides so we can stare at each other.

“You’ve never told me about your parents.
What are they like? Do they live here? Are you close to them? Do you wish you had siblings? ”

“Why, are you worried I’ll bring you home for dinner?” I tease.

“Hell no. I can handle myself. Parents love me.”

“Oh well this I will have to see.
Maybe I
will
bring you home to my parents some time. “

“So they live here?”

“No, they live in California, where I’m from. I came here to go to college and never left.”

“Oh wow, do you go home to visit them often?”

“Not as much as they’d like. I get caught up in my own life and before I know it, time’s flown by. I try to get there for major holidays, and my mom has been out here a few times, but they keep pretty busy with their clubs and all that.”

“Clubs?”

“Oh yeah, they are crazy. They had me late in life, so they are already retired. They’ve become the king and queen of clubs. My mom has her knitting, book, and tennis club, and my dad has golf, gardening, and his own book club as well. It’s pretty cute.”

“Do you like being an only child?”

“Yes, and no. I was certainly spoiled, but I felt for my parents. They didn’t want to have only one child. They tried conceiving for years before they had me. I’m their ‘miracle baby’, which is a bit embarrassing, but I understand the sentiment.”

“I think that’s sweet.”

“I guess I was lonely at times and a sibling would have been great, but I don’t know any differently. It’s always just been me and them.”

“You’re close to them then?”

“Yes, definitely.” I scrunch my nose when a bug lands on it making Wes laugh and bat it away. “My parents are really great. I never felt like they didn’t have time for me. Even with how busy and overwhelmed I think they probably were at times. I was a bit of a handful as a teenager, so I kept them on their toes for sure,” I laugh at the thought.

Wes smiles at my laughter and while I’m talking
, he keeps twirling my hair in his fingers and it’s such a nice feeling this relaxing moment – so beautiful in its simplicity that I pause to take a mental picture so I can keep it forever. “How were you a handful?”

“Because I was thirteen going on twenty-one, a complete diva.
I wanted to do anything my friends were doing, whether my parents agreed or not. Always challenging their authority, insisting on wearing makeup before the age they agreed upon, and wanting to date before they would allow me. Always arguing and pushing my limits for sure. They always loved me through it, though. I don’t know how they tolerated me at times.”

“Sounds like you were a typical teenager.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe. Play your cards right and it looks like you will get to meet my parents at some point. I’ll bring you home. I can show you my old room and we can have sex in my old bed.”

He throws his head back and laughs
. “Do they still keep your old room all decorated and stuff like you had it?”

“No, I’m just teasing.
I think my dad waited all of ten minutes after I left to turn it into a man cave. It isn’t as amazing as yours, though. Maybe you can give him some ideas.”

“Well you know the bedroom that you have at my house, which you are moving out of by the way and into mine, is the room I had when I was little.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.
I may have put you there on purpose.”

“Why’s that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Why yes, yes I would.”

“Tell you what, I will answer that question, if you finally answer mine. Does the strawberries and cream lotion taste good?”

“How about I show you the answer to that question tonight?”

“Deal.”

“Didn’t have to think about that, huh?”

“Hell no, you think I’m stupid?”

I laugh
. “Now tell me why you put me in your room.”

“Okay fine, but don’t get mad. “

A feeling of trepidation crawls over my skin making my hair stand on end, waiting for what he’s about to tell me. “Okay,” I say drawing out the word.

“When my brother and I were kids
, we figured out a way to secretly talk and see each other when we were each supposed to be in our rooms doing homework or because we got into trouble.”

I scrunch my brows “What do you mean?”

“Well, there is a vent that is in a weird place on the wall and we figured out that if you open it, on both ends, you can see into the other room.”

“WHAT?” I screech.
“You’ve been spying on me in my bedroom?”

“Well
, no, not your bedroom…” he says, trailing off.

“Well
, then I don’t –“

“Your bathroom.”

“WHAT? YOU’VE BEEN SPYING ON ME WHEN I’M IN THE BATHROOM?”

“No!
I haven’t, I swear!” I look at him like I don’t believe a word that is coming out of his sexy mouth. “I mean it!”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

He laughs. “I guess you can’t.”

“YOU PERVERT!”

“Only for you, kitten.” He leans forward and captures my lips with his. He gently bites my lower lip and strokes it with his tongue as if soothing the spot he just bit. I open to him and his tongue gently touches mine while his lips move against mine nice and slow, as if he has all the time in the world.

I swear it makes me purr in response
, making me forget his confession and earn my new nickname. Damn him and his sexiness.

 

 

Wes pulls away
from me and despite being in a public park, it becomes a hazy background, and I am only aware of the lust in my blood and the desire for his lips to be back on mine. I’m about to pull him back towards me, and realize my phone is ringing. Ah, this may be the reason for our temporary parting.

I blink for a moment, then root around in my purse searching until I find it.
Mischa’s cute photo is on the screen. “Hi, love,” I answer, making Wes frown cutely until I mouth who’s on the other end.

“Hey yourself.
What are you up to?”

“Wes and I are having a picnic lunch in the park
.” This news doesn’t surprise her because I called to squeal and rave and freak out to her about the man at my side as soon as I disengaged from him last evening. She laughed and I was so proud that she managed not to tell me she told me so.

“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I’m glad you two are together.
I have a question for you both.”

“No worries, what’s up?”

“Well, I was sent concert tickets by a vendor and was wondering if you could use them?”

“That’s cool!
For who?”

“Well that’s the thing.
I’m not really sure. All they will say is that it’s a really popular Indie New Age band. I heard rumors it might be The Burning Neptunes and since I can’t use them I was wondering if you and Wes would like to go and check them out for me? If you like their music, then I will order some of their song download cards to sell at the store.”

“Oh, why can’t you go?”
I would love to go and help her out, though I don’t have the foggiest about Wes’ willingness but feel bad that she will be missing out.

“It was a last minute surprise and I already arranged to take this online class to learn more about healing drum circles.
I can’t get a refund if I cancel at this point, and I’ve been wanting to take it for ages, anyway.”

“Do you need me to take the class for you so you can go?”

She laughs for at least a full minute. “I really appreciate the offer ,but I am pretty sure you would hate it. It might be a little over your head with this new agey stuff you love so much.”

“I can sense the sarcasm in your tone, you know.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Okay, well hold on, let me ask Wes.”
I set the phone down and explain to him that Mischa needs our help. “Is that okay with you? I don’t want to mess up any other plans you may have.”

“Pet, my only other plans were to get you home and back in my bed.”

“Hmm, ‘pet’, ‘kitten’, I’m not so sure about those now. It sounds like I’m an animal, or something.”

“Well… I remember some things in very explicit detail
; I think ‘animal’ is right…” The suggestion makes my blood burn. On second thought, maybe I don’t mind at all. Sexual goddess for the freaking win! He smiles at my face, knowing damn well the effect he has on me. “So let’s go. I’m cool with it. It just prolongs the anticipation.”

I lift the phone back to my ear and hear Mischa giggling
. “I guess you heard that, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Awesome,” I sigh and look at Wes who just grins and shrugs. “Well we’ll go check it out for you. We’re happy to help; and I’m sure it will be a blast.”

“Okay, I’m leaving the store now to run some errands, I’ll just leave the tickets in your mailbox at the house okay?”

“Okay Mish. I’ll talk to you later. Let’s get together soon, okay?”

“That would be great.
Love and stuff.”

“You
, too.”

I hang up and turn back to Wes.
I push him onto his back and lay the top half of my body on his. Crossing my arms, I place my chin on them and look down at him with what I hope is a sexy grin. “Don’t be getting inappropriate now,” he teases, “there are kids just across the way.”

“Very funny.
A concert will be fun. It was on my wish list.”

“Anything I do with you will be fun.”

“I feel the same way. If I had known we were coming here, I would have brought some birdseed or cracked corn. I always feed the ducks when I come.”

“Me
, too. Which is why I brought some birdseed.”

“Aw, you do?
That’s adorable. Wes the badass tattooed Mohawk wearing bartender biker feeds the ducks.”

“Cute,” he taps my nose, then pushes me away gently so he can stand.
He pulls me up and together we fold the blanket, then he takes the seed out of the basket. We make our way, hand in hand, over to the pond to feed the ducks. As soon as they see us approaching, they start swimming our way, knowing they’re about to get a treat. We throw them seed and laugh at the aggressive ducks while taking pity on the passive ones. We make sure to give them all their fair share.

“There is a pond like this in Indiana in the town where my grandparents lived.
One of my favorite childhood memories is from one summer when we were visiting. My grandpa took me to the pond to feed the ducks. I was infatuated and kept trying to pet them, but they would scatter before I could do so. Seeing my desire, he chased down a duck until he caught it because he wanted me to hold and pet one.” I smile at the memory. “It’s one of my favorite memories of my grandfather who passed away when I was very little.”

Without saying a word, Wes suddenly springs into action and starts running around like crazy trying to catch a duck for me.
They’re all quacking and flapping in terror, running in every direction. I’m laughing hysterically. Somehow in the middle of all the chaos, with startling clarity, I realize that I’m falling in love with him. My heart feels like it will burst from the feeling and my tummy fills with butterflies wondering how he would feel if he knew how I felt. I stand and stare, somehow not surprised by the revelation. He’s perfect. Who wouldn’t fall in love with him? Miraculously, somehow Wes manages to grab a duck by the tail and gets it into his arms, holds its legs, and hands it to me.

So, I’m standing there holding a rather active and frightened duck in my arms with a huge smile on my face, and more love than I know what to do with for this man in my heart.
He takes out his cell phone and snaps some pictures. “My new screensaver,” he explains and then laughs when the duck starts squirming and bites me on the hand because it wants down. With a squeal, I almost drop it, but Wes saves it and helps me place it on the ground easily.

We walk back to the car some time later, once again hand and hand, and it occurs to me that this is the best day I’ve had in a long time.
And it isn’t even over.

 

 

We have just
enough time to get home, take the tickets from the mailbox and drive to the concert. It’s at a downtown venue where the major bands always play when they come into town. It’s a fun area surrounded with various bars and clubs.

The
nightlife is swinging when we park and walk through the street, on our way to the large brown brick building that is the auditorium. We approach a guitarist playing for tips on one corner, his velvety voice moving over us as we pass while others stop to listen. On another corner, a saxophonist plays a sad song with his eyes closed, as if he’s personally pulling each note from his heart. I place a few dollars in the case of each as we walk by, making Wes squeeze my hand.

Once we arrive at the venue, we walk through the doors and hand over our tickets.
“You are in row two section A. Right in front. Just go through those doors to your right there,” an older man with a goatee and round belly directs, “and walk down until you reach the floor. If you need help, someone can point you in the right direction from there.”

We thank the man who replies with, “Peace be with you,” and make our way to the section he indicated.
“Do you want anything?” Wes asks, pointing to the vendors.

“No, I’m good.
You?”

“Same.
I can always come out and grab us something later if we change our minds.”

We make our way to our seats and I’m impressed with their great location.
Mischa will be sad she missed this. We sit, slightly sinking in the soft and comfortable armed theater seats and I look around. The set up isn’t anything impressive. There’s a stage upfront largely veiled by a huge red curtain. Nothing else is visible.

It’s kind of strange because the jumbo screen isn’t playing, and there aren’t any of the normal concert posters or promotional signs or advertisements of any kind.

Looking around at the crowd, I start to feel a little uneasy. Our dress appears a little out of place. While several also wear jeans, they are tight fitting and many appear frayed while some men wear trousers and others what appear to be polyester three piece leisure suits. Instead of t-shirts, many people are wearing leather and suede fringed vests. The long sleeves on the men’s loud print shirts which are often open to the middle of their chest, seem wider and the collars larger. Some people have bell bottoms on; women wear mini, midi, and max length skirts or jersey knit wrap dresses and have flowers in their hair. A number of men have ponytails at the nape of their necks; many women have large high bangs. Both men and women wear platform shoes with two to four inch soles. Apparently, they haven’t received the memo that this is the twenty-first century, not nineteen seventy-seven.

Maybe there was some theme that we weren’t aware of.
That would explain it. I say as much to Wes, and he shrugs his shoulders clearly unsure as well. Thank goodness he seems to just take it all into stride.

He places his arm across my shoulders, and when the people arrive sitting next to us, I look kindly to the man on my left.
His apprising look makes me a tad uncomfortable, but when he turns to the woman next to him, I forget about him.

We don’t have too long to wait before the curtain is raised, and we know the concert is about to begin
. “Thank you everyone for coming. We are very excited to present to you tonight, Psychedelic Ice and Fire.”

Instead of clapping, people all around us start snapping.
I look at Wes, and he looks at me with his brows raised, both of us not snapping. The “band” takes the stage and I hear Wes snort from trying to hold in his laugh next to me.

They walk on stage dressed in various forms of yoga pants, flowing tops, some with women wearing kimonos and the men wearing vests without shirts underneath.
They are all barefoot and the instruments they are holding are not what you would typically see at a contemporary concert.

One has a triangle, another a ukulele, there’s a piccolo
, and some bongo drums. There are a few instruments that I am unable to identify. “Thank you all for joining us tonight. We invite you all to sit, relax, take the music in, and obtain what you came expecting – cleansing for your souls. As we begin, our Psychedelic Team will come to the edge of each row and smudge it. We want to cleanse everyone’s aura before we begin. This will open up your soul and allow you to really take in our music, letting it speak to your soul the way it should.”

I look at Wes, no doubt apprehension on my face, wondering what the hell we have agreed to.
This is certainly one for the memory books; not at all what I thought it was going to be.

I watch open mouthed as someone in fact does come to the edge of every row and wave around burning sage to smudge each row.
The scent of the sage starts wafting through the place, and I feel like it could make me sick it’s so overwhelming. I cough a little and Wes pulls me a little tighter against his body.

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