Wild Child

“But then he wouldn’t be Jack Hines, now would he?”

Cami sighs.  “No.  And God forbid I have even one family relationship that doesn’t give me indigestion for the rest of my life.”

“You and Trick are too perfect.  God gave you drama everywhere else to even the playing field.  No one’s life is perfect.  Yours was just getting too damn close,” I offer as we walk into the kitchen.

“Language, young lady,” my dad, Cris Theopolis, scolds from the other side of the island.

“Sorry, father,” I respond formally in jest.

“So,” he begins conversationally as he piles a heap of French toast and bacon onto two plates, “what are my two favorite girls up to today?”

I watch as he drizzles his homemade peach syrup over the toast. My mouth waters accordingly.  “Oh, just girl stuff.  Wedding stuff.  You know, fun stuff.”

“This’ll be good for Jenna, Cami,” Dad says as he slides a plate in front of her.  “Maybe it’ll make her want to settle down and give her old man some grandkids.”

“You’re not old enough for grandchildren, Daddy.”

“Of course I am.”

“You don’t look it.”

“If you’re sucking up, you’re off to a particularly good start.”

“I know. I got your stunningly youthful genes and a winning personality.”

“Let’s not forget a double dose of humility,” my father says wryly.

“How could I forget that?”

“How indeed,” he says with a roll of his eyes.  “Well, this ought to give you girls enough energy to tackle any amount of wedding hoopla, so eat up.”

I glance over at Cami.  She’s already put away a piece and a half of toast.  “You don’t have to ask us twice.”

Dad winks at me and leans across the island to scrub my head, like he’s done for as long as I can remember.  He’s one of the best things about coming home.  This town isn’t exactly my favorite place, but there are a few positives.  And two of them are in the room with me right now.  If it weren’t for them, and Rusty, of course, I’d probably never come back.

Rusty, I think with an internal sigh as I take a bite of toast.  The wild card in my future.

CHAPTER TWO- Rusty

“Who the hell came up with this piss-poor idea?” I ask.

Trick pops his head up from under the hood of a ’67 Chevy truck.  “It’s hard to say.  My money would be on Jenna.  This sounds like some wicked plan of hers, don’t you think?”

Giving it a few seconds’ thought, I have to agree. “You’re probably right.  She probably read in some magazine or something that it would make sex better or some such bullshit.”

“That sounds like Jenna.  And, while I’m all about great sex, I can tell you right now that this is needless on my part.  I don’t think it’s possible for our sex life to get any better.”

“Same here.  Jenna’s a damn hellcat in bed.”

Trick laughs. “I’m not surprised. I kinda get that impression.”

“Right.  So what the hell?”

“Who knows?  They’re women. I don’t think God Himself understands what they do sometimes.”

“Duuude,” I say, holding out my fist for Trick to bump.  And he does.  “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Of course, maybe Jenna wants to show you what you’re missing.  You know, since you’re a pansy about telling her how you feel.”

“I’m not a pansy, you prick!  Jenna and I are on the same page.  We both know she’s not the kind to stay around here.”

“No, she’s not, but you always wanted to open up a garage somewhere near a bigger city so you could do high-end classic restorations.  So what’s the problem?”

I shrug.  “There’s no problem.  Jenna’s restless.  It is what it is. Sometimes people leave, no matter how much you want them to stay.  Trust me, Jenna knows the score.”

“Man, I think you don’t know that girl half as well as you think you do.  That or you’re just trying to lose her.”

“Now, why would I want to do that?”

“Hell if I know.  You’re the one with the issues.”

“Issues?  Kiss my ass. I don’t have issues.”

“Of course not. It’s perfectly normal for a guy to be so much of a pussy about telling a woman how he feels, that he dicks around until he loses her.”

“Actually, that probably is perfectly normal.  That shit comes with having balls.”

“Or not having balls.”

“God, you’re ornery this morning.  What’s your deal?”

“You think I’m looking forward to sleeping alone just because your girlfriend thought it would be a cool experiment?”

“Hey, we still don’t know whose brainchild this was.  Don’t blame my girlfriend.  It was probably your fiancee.  You are getting married in a couple of days after all.  Maybe there’s some kind of ancient superstition that Cami read about.”

Trick raises his head again.  “Why are we still talking about this?”

“Because I’ve got blue balls already, that’s why.”

Trick quirks one eyebrow.  “Well, then we’ll just have to make them suffer until they come begging for this stupid thing to be over.”

My grin is slow and I can see it reflected on my best friend’s face.  “Oh, hell yeah we will.”

I like the sound of this already.

CHAPTER THREE- Jenna

I can’t wait for Rusty to see what I’m wearing.  I dressed specifically with torturing him in mind.

Cami and I made all kinds of salads and desserts this morning to bring to her house for the cookout slash bridal shower.  It’s an unconventional event, but she wanted Trick to participate in everything with her. Therefore, the bridal shower now includes the groom, and tomorrow night’s bachelorette party will include the bachelors.  Crazy as hell if you ask me.  But she didn’t.  She wants Trick around for all of it, and who am I to try to talk her out of it?  Besides, she did let me plan the bachelorette party.  That alone was worth a thousand other compromises.

There are already a dozen cars parked along the side of the road leading to Cami’s house, but someone put a saw horse on the side of the driveway where she usually parks.  My guess is it was Trick, saving a spot for his fiancee.  I won’t deny that it makes me a little green, what they have.  I want it for myself. With Rusty.  If he ever gets to that point.

And that’s a big if.

I get out and move the saw horse so Cami can pull in.  We waste no time in loading up our arms and taking all the foil-wrapped dishes straight down into the back yard.

I look around as we walk, but Rusty is nowhere to be found.  He and Trick must be doing some manly stuff inside.  Whatever that may be.  If I had to guess, I’d say it involves them pounding beer somewhere in the house.