Chapter Eight

Karla stretched under the covers, her muscles screaming against the motion, wanting to remain asleep. She stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t believe what she did. Charlie would be even more of a pest now than before. It was her fault. She knew it. She allowed her frustration at Mitch to force her into making a stupid decision. Paul would have been the wiser choice, but he had already walked off. It was just Charlie’s luck that he sat there being nosy. Damn him.

Forcing herself out of bed, she stumbled to her dresser to see how bad the night was. Her hair was mussed and her eyes bloodshot, but nothing seemed as damaged as her pride. At least her walk of shame wasn’t in front of her sister. Aimee didn’t need to know about her asinine decision.

Running a brush through her hair, she decided coffee was definitely in order. She slipped on an old T-shirt, skipping bottoms, and headed for the kitchen. If she was lucky, Aimee would already be up and have the coffee made. Stepping into the hallway, she gave a soft call out. “Aimee? Are you up? Coffee would be great right now.”

“Well, if you weren’t out all night being silly, you wouldn’t need the coffee so bad.”

She froze. What the hell was he doing in her condo? Who let him in? Then, it dawned on her that only one other person could have done it. She would kill Aimee. This is twice now.

Stepping out of the hallway and into the kitchen, Karla stared at Mitch, who sat at the kitchen table as if he belonged there. He didn’t. He shouldn’t be anywhere near her place. This was becoming a habit.

Aimee stood by the stove, flipping bacon in a skillet. She glanced at Karla and smirked, before turning back to the bacon. “Mitch called this morning to say hello and I invited him over for a cup of coffee,” Aimee said, the smirk still firmly in place.

Mitch just sat there, sipping his coffee, doing his best to look innocent. Mitch Greenway was anything but innocent.

Karla wanted to turn and hide back in her bedroom. I am so going to kill Aimee. “You have an irritating way of showing up at my breakfast table when you didn’t spend the night. Why are you here this time, as if I didn’t know?” She turned and glared at her sister, but Aimee just smiled and flipped the bacon. Karla turned back to Mitch, one hand on her hip. She’d deal with Aimee later.

“Aimee just told you she invited me over for breakfast. I thought it was a great idea. I hadn’t talked to her in a couple of days.” He lifted his cup, smiling. “I needed to make sure her car was still working right, after all. A customer service call, so to speak.”

“I bet that’s what you needed to do,” Karla shook her head, surrendering to her morning. Turning back to the counter, she reached into the cabinet above the coffee maker, her T-shirt gliding up her ass, revealing the bottom of each cheek, and pulled out a mug. She needed to wake up quick before something else went wrong. “How much longer before breakfast?” she asked her sister while pouring her coffee.

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Good. I’m hitting the shower.”

She sipped her coffee, glanced at Mitch, who still feigned innocence, and walked back to her room. So far, her morning started about as well as her night ended. She went to shut the door behind her, but Mitch caught it with his hand and followed her into her room, closing the door behind him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned back against it. “Was it worth it?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was too early to deal with a jealous man. “It was worth making my own decision and not being told what to do.” Opening her eyes, she continued toward her dresser, setting her coffee cup down when she reached it, her T-shirt sliding upward on her ass again. Turning to face Mitch, she crossed her arms over her chest, which pulled her shirt up a little more, baring the prize all men wanted, even Mitch. She didn’t care. “Why are you really here? And don’t tell me Aimee invited you. My sister is too far up Clint’s ass to even remember she has your phone number.”

“Well, I tried to see you last night, but in your stubbornness, you went home with that Charlie dude.”

“What the hell do you want from me, Mitch? You act like we’re some kind of couple and we’re not. I don’t do the couple thing. I told you that. It never works out.”

He grinned at her, and it unnerved her. “I know. I’ve heard you say it enough times. Yet, I never said we were a couple. All I did was ask you to go for a walk on the beach. Not marry me.”

“No. You didn’t ask. You told me.”

He cocked his head at her, the smile still in place, but softer. She watched his chest rise as he took a deep breath and then pushed himself off the door and walked over to her. He gazed deep into her eyes as he reached up and took both of her arms in his hands. “I’m not sure what happened to you to make you so antagonistic about relationships or men in general. I truly wish I could go back in time and keep it all from happening. But I can’t. All I can do now is paint over each and every one of those scars that mar your heart. And I plan on doing just that.”

She sighed. “I don’t get you. Why do you want to be with someone who keeps telling you she doesn’t want a relationship? What? Do I look like some kind of challenge to you or something?”

He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. She wanted to punch him in the gut; it made her feel like he pitied her. Looking back into her eyes, he said, “You, sweetheart, are definitely a challenge, but no, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I like you. A lot. We have fun together. I know you don’t do traditional relationships, but I’m not a traditional kind of guy.” He released his hold on her arms and took a step back. “If you could get past your stubbornness just a little, you’d find that out. And maybe, just maybe, mind you, you’d see that not all relationships are the same.” He turned and walked back toward the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at her over his shoulder. “You’ve heard it dozens of times, I’m sure. Not all men are the same. The truth is, not all relationships are the same. The key is to find the one that fits you. I think we’d fit, because we both hate the rules. You proved that when you were prepared to break the rule you made with your sister in high school. So, when you’re ready to break some more rules, give me a call. I’ll leave you alone until then.” He smiled and then left, Karla staring at the door he closed behind him, her arms now over her chest, her mouth slightly ajar as she stared at the door.

What the hell? She continued to stare at the door, disbelief clouding her mind as his words echoed in her thoughts. What rules was he talking about? She ran her hand over her face, wiping away her confusion. It didn’t matter. He said he would leave her alone until she came to him, and she had no intention of going to him. She was done with whatever game Mitch was playing. She made her own rules, always had since high school, and the likes of Mitch Greenway were not going to get her to change now.

With a deep breath, she grabbed her coffee cup off the dresser and made her way back to the kitchen. Aimee was setting two plates on the table. She glanced up at her sister as Karla entered the little dining area for the second time that morning. “Well, from the look on your face and the way he left, I’d say that went over about as well as a fart in church.”

Karla shook her head as she slid into her chair. “He has some crazy notions. He’s gone now. That’s all that matters.”

Aimee slid into her seat on the opposite side of the table. “Is it? Why are you pushing him away? Mitch seems different, like someone who would be right up your alley.”

“All Mitch Greenway wants is to be right up the alley between my legs. He’s no different than any other man who comes sniffing around. They all say they can handle just having sex, but once they stick their dicks in you, it’s all love and gooey romance all of a sudden. And men say it’s the women who fall in love too easily.” She rolled her eyes, as she snatched up a slice of bacon, snapping the end off with her teeth. “Mitch is no different. They all say the same thing, too. ‘I’m different. I’m not like the rest. I can keep you satisfied.’ Pfft. There isn’t a man alive that can keep this girl satisfied.”

“You’re so hardcore.” Aimee scooped up a forkful of eggs. “However, what if Mitch is different? Maybe he really wants to prove it to you. I mean, why else would he come over here this morning knowing you went home with Charlie, which by the way, ew, what a lousy choice.”

Karla shrugged, “It wasn’t my first choice. I was backed up against a corner.”

“Was it even good?”

“It didn’t totally suck, but there won’t be any repeats.”

“I’ll bet he’s at the bar tonight, hoping for an encore performance.” Aimee grinned at her, a slice of bacon waving in her hand. “Once men get between your legs, they tend to pant around for a while.”

“He can pant around all he wants. It’s not happening.”

“And what about Mitch?”

Good question. What about Mitch? Karla stared at her plate as she contemplated the mystery of Mitch Greenway. Why did he have to get all bossy and possessive on her? She could have enjoyed the frequent booty call with him if he hadn’t turned into every other man she slept with. Now he tossed the dreaded R-word out there, promising he wasn’t like the others. All men were the same and they were all full of shit.

And just what the hell did he mean by traditional relationships? What rules does he think we’re going to be breaking together? She also didn’t think it fair to bring up her behavior when he wanted to date Aimee instead of her. Not her best performance, but then again, Aimee was the one trying to break their rules, not her. Yet, Aimee was trying to push her toward Mitch. And it wasn’t like Aimee did anything with him. They went out once…okay, twice, but that was only because Karla showed up on their first date and acted like a total bitch. Karla wasn’t even sure if the two of them kissed.

She gave herself a mental shake. It doesn’t matter. Mitch Greenway is just too bossy for me. I make the demands in my relationships. She took another bite of her bacon, once again wondering what he meant by not being a traditional relationship type of guy. What the hell does that even mean?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was a risk, he knew, leaving her to make her own decision about the two of them. Karla was a stubborn woman; it was her excelling trait. She’d refuse to call him, even if she wanted to, just to prove to him that she was the one in control. Yet, Mitch knew she had to come to him to make their relationship work. She had to recognize that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there who could give her what she craved without judging her.

There was no doubt in Mitch’s mind he was the one to do that. He knew what type of person Karla Harper was, knew what type of person she needed to be with and why. The issue wasn’t that he didn’t know all that; it was that Karla didn’t know it. Now, the challenge was to make her see it.

He stepped out of Karla’s condo building and into the bright Florida Sunday morning. Slipping onto the seat of his bike, he pushed the ignition button and reached for his helmet. It was all in her hands now. She would either give him the chance or she wouldn’t. If he knew her, and he thought he did, then she would be going crazy trying to figure out what he meant when he left her. Hopefully, that was enough to get her to come back and ask him questions. If she did, then she was his. If she didn’t…well, then she was never meant to be his after all.

With a deep breath, he hit the accelerator and pulled out into traffic. He needed to take his mind off Karla before he drove himself crazy, and Sandy was out. Too clingy. Where to then?

The streets were filled with fishermen heading to the water and people heading to church. Neither appealed to Mitch. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but he knew it wasn’t either of those. He hit the main road and headed south. He wondered if Pops had an empty seat at the diner. He really could use some breakfast now that he had left Karla’s without eating first. I definitely timed that little confrontation poorly.

The Riverview Café was a small little diner set against the Indian River with a tiny deck in case customers wanted to dine with a view of the river. Pops Clampett ran the place, did most of the cooking, and all the complaining. He had been running the tiny diner for as long as Mitch could remember and worked almost every day, because he didn’t trust his employees to do it right without him there keeping an eye on them. It was amazing he even had employees with the way he grumbled about everything.

Mitch parked his bike, leaving the helmet on the seat, and pushed his way through the grungy glass door into the frigid air of the place. The clanging of dishes mingled with the loud chatter of customers, assaulting his ears as soon as he stepped through the doorway. The aroma of maple syrup and frying bacon wafted over him like a soothing blanket, enticing a growl from his stomach. He didn’t even have time to look around for an empty seat before his ears rang with a high screech of welcome as a giant redhead, wearing heels she didn’t need, jerked him into her arms for a bear hug he thought would break his ribs. “Mitch, well it’s about time you got your sexy little ass back in here for some real food,” the woman said between loud smacks of her gum. “C’mon back. I have a table just perfect for you. Inside, out of the heat, but near a window for the view. Only the best for my Mitch.” Myrtle, who had been at the diner almost as long as Pops, turned and started to walk to the back of the quiet café, her ass swinging back and forth in wide sweeps, which kept Mitch following her.

“Thank you, Myrtle. I knew I could count on you to make my Sunday better.”

Myrtle stopped at a table, gesturing for Mitch to slide into place. “Is someone picking on my boy? Just tell me who it is, and I’ll go set ‘em straight.”

“Leave the boy alone, Myrtle,” Pops came out of the back, wiping his hands on a stained apron. “He’s here to eat, not listen to you play over-protective momma. He’s a grown man for cryin’ out loud.”

Myrtle thrust her hand onto her hip, which she jutted out further than Mitch thought was possible, and just clucked at Pops, who now leaned on the back of Mitch’s booth. This place never ceased to prove to him that his life wasn’t so bad after all. “And what man doesn’t need a little protecting now and then? Eh? Mitch has a soft heart, and you would have some woman take advantage of that softness.”

Pops rolled his eyes as he shooed Myrtle to another table. “Go take care of those people over there. You haven’t even brought them coffee, yet. I’ll take care of Mitch myself.” When Myrtle didn’t move right away, Pops pushed softly on her arm, making it look harder than Mitch knew it was, and shooed her away again. “Go take care of someone who needs mothering. Go now. I got this order. He orders the same thing all the time. His order is like your mouth…predictable.”

Myrtle turned and started walking away, one hand in the air waving as she went. “One of these days, Pops. I’m going to leave you. Where will you be then? Eh?”

He lifted his hands in the air as if praying to a god he never worshiped. “If only I could be so lucky.” He turned to Mitch, shaking his head. “She’s like the tree she was named after—twisted. Now, what brings you to my kitchen? You only come see us when some lassie has broken that hard heart of yours.”

“My heart’s not broken, Pops.” Not yet anyway. “I was just out and knew I hadn’t had your blueberry pancakes in a while. Add that to the fact that it’s a beautiful day for a bike ride and I couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re as full of shit as Myrtle is,” Pops said, as he smiled. “I’ll have her bring over some coffee if I can get her to stop jabbering long enough, while I get your pancakes started. A stack of three. They’re good for the things we don’t want to talk about.”

Mitch watched as Pops turned and walked away, yelling at Myrtle to fetch Mitch his coffee as he did. Mitch just laughed, shaking his head. Anyone who watched the two of them would swear they were married. It was a relationship built on the non-traditional, and it was what Mitch strove for in his relationships. If he was lucky, he would have it one day. If he was even luckier, it would be with Karla.