An Unexpected Reaction

"Hey! I was watching that."

"It's boring as shit, Suit. Besides, I'm your guest here."

She settled on some show about four girls and a secret they shared. I lasted five minutes.

"If you're going to watch stuff that turns your brain to mush, I'm going to bed before I get infected. Good night, Amanda."

I could still hear the tv blaring when I drifted off to sleep. The next morning she woke me up, banging on my door.

"Breakfast, sleepyhead," she said, parroting me from the day before, "eat it while it's hot."

Sausage, home fries and grits. I was still getting used to them, not being from the South. I will admit they were growing on me.

"You don't keep much food around do you?" she asked as I ate.

"Single guy, not home much, no reason to," I said, around a bite of sausage.

She stacked the dishes when I was done.

"Do you need a ride tonight?" I asked, as I walked out the door.

"I'm off tonight," she said, "but don't worry about me, I have things to do."

"Will I see you tonight?"

She grinned. "Maybe, you have a good day now."

I thought about her off and on all day. She was getting under my skin. I dated some since Becky, nothing serious. Got laid, not on a regular basis, but enough to keep the edge off. In a moment of reflection, I had to wonder how much my feelings for her were pity and how much was attraction.

I ran the reasons for and against trying to start a relationship with her.

She was way too young, I felt like a cradle robber. She was wounded, loud, profane, irritating beyond words sometimes. We had nothing in common. Her temper had a hair trigger, and many times she acted before she thought.

But in the rare times she let her guard down, she was sweet and loving. She was smart, strong, dealing with a miserable fate with all the dignity she could. It occurred to me she'd be a great mother, fierce and protective. The thought of that tiny body nine months pregnant made me smile.

And though she didn't know it, she was beautiful, or would be if she dressed better and learned to use makeup. And the beauty went much deeper than her skin.

...

I wondered where she had gone as I drove home. The thought of her in the shelter depressed me no end. She deserved better.

The smell hit me when I walked in the door. I don't know what it was, but it made my mouth water. She must have heard the door, because she came out of the kitchen, hair in a ponytail, wearing an apron. I stood amazed when she went up on her toes to kiss my cheek.

"Hi, honey, how was work?," was all she got out before she almost collapsed laughing at the expression on my face. Then she got serious.

"I made you dinner. Nothing fancy, I'm a good cook, but I haven't had much opportunity to practice lately. It'll be ready in thirty minutes. Sit down, I'll get you a beer, or would you rather have tea? After we eat, I need to talk to you."

There it was, that determined look she had. I knew it had to be serious.

"Tea would be fine. Anything I can do to help?"

She seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

"I got it. Sit."

Dinner was great. Roast pork, basil and rosemary roasted potatoes, asparagus, and homemade bread. Probably the best meal I'd ever eaten. I stuffed myself, then got a little embarrassed. She smiled.

"I'll take the mass consumption as a compliment. Ready for dessert?"

She had made a banana pudding, one of the things I'd learned to love about the South. I was almost comatose when I pushed back from the table.

She sent me into the living room while she cleaned up. When she was done, she pulled a chair directly in front of the couch.

"Did you like supper? Is the house clean enough for you?"

"Babydoll, I've never seen the house cleaner. And dinner was excellent. Where did you learn to cook like that?"

She looked sad for a minute.

"Momma wasn't much, but she was a hell of a cook.

She taught me a lot, before the alcohol got her."

I wanted to hug so badly right then. She shook off her memories and looked me in the eye.

"I want to make a deal with you, John Charles. I'd like to rent a room from you. I can give you fifty a week, plus I'll cook and clean the house, do the laundry, I'll even mow the yard. I won't get in your way. Please? These last couple of nights have made me happier that I've been in a long time, I just can't face going back to the shelter. Please?"

She looked at me, full of hope.

"No."

Her face collapsed like a balloon losing air, and tears started.

"I'll get my things. Will you drive me to the shelter?"

"No. You're not going anywhere until I talk. So sit, listen, and don't interrupt. Promise me."

Her face was a mixture of fear and hope. she nodded.

"I'm happy to let you live with me, under these conditions. One, you will not pay me anything. Your rent will be keeping the house clean, doing the food shopping and making the meals. Two, I enjoy yard work, so I'll do that. Three, you keep your job at the bar. You can drive the Dart for work and household needs. Four, and this is the big one, you have to go back to school, get your adult high school diploma, or at the very least a g.e.d."

She sat with her mouth open. I knew she was ashamed over her lack of education. Maybe this would force her to do something about it.

She finally nodded her head. "I'll do it. But on the school thing, will you help me? I'll need it."

I relaxed, smiling. "I'll do everything short of actually doing it for you. Do we have a deal?"

She jumped into my lap, kissing me until she realized what she was doing and jumped back off.

"Sorry," she said, flaming red. I grinned.

"I've got one more condition. You have to give me a goodnight kiss every night, and one before I go to work every morning. No deal otherwise."

She glowed again, then grinned, holding out her hand. "Deal."

We shook, and began a wonderful and curious stage of our lives.

I asked her the next morning where the food had come from. She gave me the receipts. I paid her back, then gave her my debit card, telling her to shop for food and anything else she thought we might need. I grinned all the way to work, my cheek tingling from the goodbye kiss.

You couldn't have blown the smile off my face that day with a stick of dynamite. Gail got catty again. Apparently happiness offended her.

"See you little jailbait honey last night?"

"Yes, and this morning. She moved in last night. You should find someone, Gail, it'll make you a much nicer person."

Her look as I left would have soured milk.

...

The guys at the bar gave me shit, but smiled when they did it. Sam shook my hand and Helen kissed my cheek.

"You're a good man, Suit. I knew she'd get you sooner or later."

"We're just room mates, Helen. Nothing going on."

She just grinned wider. "If you say so."

Amanda smiled so hard I thought her cheeks would get a cramp when she saw me. I was about to order a burger when she stopped me."Your supper is in the fridge. Microwave three minutes. I hope you like it."

I had one beer, shot a game of pool with Fat Boy, and went home to a nice dinner. She got off work at 9:30, when the kitchen closed, and was home by ten. She went straight to the shower.

"I smelled like old fries," she said, when she came out in a robe, with a towel wrapped around her head. "What's on television?"

...

So we settled into a domestic routine. I did the yard work, washed the vehicles, while she did the house. She cooked most of the meals, but I insisted on taking her out to eat or grilling for her once a week. On Sundays, if it was pretty, we'd ride, either alone or with our group. She got a new nickname, Mrs. Suit, which she grumbled about but did so with a grin.

Her twenty first birthday came, and I surprised her with a party at the bar. She even got presents. Soon she was crying, a rare display of emotion for her. She shocked everyone by hugging them in thanks.

I gave her a day at a spa, complete with hair and makeup, and a gift certificate to an upscale department store. "I'd like to see you out of those jeans," I grinned, as she colored.

Helen got onto me, telling me it was time to step up and make an honest woman out of her.

"I don't know how she feels about me," I confessed.

"The you're the biggest dumbass in the state. She loves you, but she doesn't know how to love. You need to teach her. It'll be worth it."

"How do you know so much?"

She hugged Sam when he walked up.

"Because fifteen years ago, I was her. Then I met Sam, and though it took a while, he opened me up, made me understand there were good men in the world, I just hadn't found one until I met him.

I'd been with a bike gang for three years. They did terrible things to me and I let them, because I thought that was what I deserved. They messed me up so bad I couldn't have kids. He loved me anyway. How could I fight that? The age difference is bigger than you and Amanda, and we made it. Take it to the next level, Suit. You'll never regret it. From what you said, she's nothing like your ex."

I had told them a little about Becky and me about six months ago, when we'd had them over to dinner and Amanda had run to the store.

...

She was doing really well in school. She had opted, with my urging to go for a full high school diploma instead of the G. E. D.

We estimated it would take another two months and she could graduate. They held full graduation ceremonies twice a year, as recognition of their accomplishments. Some of the graduates would be in their sixties, but most were like Amanda, kids that got lost in the system. I promised her a party when it happened.

I almost had a heart attack when she used my birthday present. She had on a very nice sundress, blindingly white, earrings and a necklace[I had never seen her with jewelry on]and three inch platform sandals.

Her hair was teased into a wildly flowing style, her thick locks drifting down her back. She was so beautiful it made me ache.

"What do you think?," she said, twirling around, "did you get your moneys' worth?"

I said the first thing that come to mind.

"All they did was polish a diamond, baby. You've always been this beautiful. The man that gets you will be the luckiest on the planet."

She stopped in midtwirl, her eyes filled with tears, and she bolted int her room. Shit, what had I done now?

She came home from school the next week giggling.

"What's up?" I said, glad she was in a good mood.

"I got asked out by this really cute guy. We'd been talking off and on for a month."

I felt like someone had driven a stake through my heart.

"Oh." was all I said, turning away.

She was on me in a flash.

"That's all you got to say? Oh?"

I was defensive. "What would you like me to say? You're obviously interested, you've been flirting for a month. Why should I stop you?"

She went into her room, slamming the door. I sighed. That had been happening a lot lately. I was going to have to have it rehung if she kept this up. I knocked but she refused to answer. Giving up, I got a beer out, and wallowed in misery.

By my third, I was pondering the mysteries of women before dozing off.

I woke when she shook my shoulder, gently.

"What?," I said, trying to focus.

The Big Four came out of her mouth.

"We need to talk."

I was instantly alert. Nothing good ever came after those words, in my experience.

"Do you like me?"

I couldn't read her eyes.

"Yes I do," I answered honestly.

"How much?"

"I don't know what you want here, Amanda. Clue a dense guy in."

She slapped the shit out of me. As I rubbed my jaw she went into a rant.

"I guess what I'm asking here is if do you love me? Not a friend love, but a full grown man woman type of love. Because I've loved you for a long time, and you've never noticed. I know I'm a lot younger than you, I'm uneducated, I have no social graces, I'm loud, jealous, scared, and that's just the start."

"I can't take it anymore. It hurts. So if you don't love me, I'm moving out."

I stopped her rant with a kiss.

"Hush now," I said sternly, "are you trying to talk me out of having feelings for you? Because if you are, you're too late. And all the things you say you don't have are no matter. You have something much more important. You have my heart."

I think she actually went out when she heard what I said. When she recovered she was in my lap, kissing and crying until she went to sleep.

Did we jump into her bed and make passionate love?

No. She was still damaged and fragile, so I held her until she cried herself out, took her to my bed and tucked her in, then went out on the back deck, looking at the stars and wondering what happens next. I was out there for over an hour.

When I came back in, she had gotten a shirt out, put it on, and crawled back into bed. When I lay down she snuggled into my arms, mumbled something that sounded like 'love you', and drifted off again. I held her for a long time, reveling in her feel, before I finally dozed off.

I woke up alone, to the smell of breakfast. She was flitting around the kitchen, getting everything perfect. I startled her when I swept her off her feet, kissing the back of her slender neck. She stiffened at first, then relaxed and giggled.

"Let me go, honey, or all you'll have for breakfast is burnt waffles."

After breakfast, before she cleared the table, we talked. It was Saturday, and we had no where to be.

She snuggled into my lap.

"Honey, you know I love you. Please go slow with me, I'm carrying around a lot of baggage."

She told me the story of her life, in between tears and hugs. She'd been happy until she was ten, when her dad died. Her mom was never a strong person, and she slide down a slope of depression and bad choices into a sea of alcohol. She had a stepfather and several live in boyfriends. When she was fifteen one tried to rape her. She fought him off and told the school. They took her away from her mother and she spent the next three years in foster care, and juvenile hall. She had stolen a car, desperate to see her little sister, nine years younger. It was the first time I knew she had a sister. When she turned eighteen, the system turned her loose.

She ended up with a guy out of desperation. She gave him her virginity. Apparently it was borderline rape ever time they were intimate. Then he tried to get her to hook for money. She ran away, and ended up here.

My heart ached for her.

"I want you so bad I ache, Jace, but I freeze up. Help me?"

So I did, even got her a therapist. Four months later it happened. We'd been getting closer, touching, talking. She got comfortable enough to walk around in tiny little panties and a tank shirt, and wear slinky little gowns to our bed, which she hadn't been out of since the first time I put her there.

Amanda didn't like alcohol, but had developed a fondness for wine from our client. After a half bottle one night, the flood gates opened.

I still took it slow, the first time. I kissed all the way down to her center, stopping to pay attention to her throat, earlobes, breasts, nipples, and her belly button. She was so worked up that when my tongue found her clit she exploded immediately, screamed, and ground my head into her.

"That was, that was..." she got out, gasping and holding my head. She screamed again five minutes later before she pulled me up, crying. She shoved me over, climbing on top.

"Like this, baby, please. I need to be in control."

She was so tight it took three minutes to fit inside her. Ten minutes later she was slamming into me as I exploded, screaming again and crying my name. It was the most out of control control I'd ever seen. She collapsed onto my chest, out cold.

The next morning she woke me up, tugging gently on my cock, which was rock hard.

"Can we play again? I'll let you drive."

She had her first orgasm missionary, crying out in pleasure. It led to full blown screaming when I took her from behind, her heart shaped ass firmly in my hands. She was so small I almost couldn't see it under my huge hands. We both collapsed when we were done and went back to sleep. She woke me up tugging my erection again. I could easily get used to this kind of alarm clock.

"Will you do the behind thingy again for a while, then let me drive?"

She came twice before she slid on top of me. Five minutes later her ass was a blur, pounding up and down as I gripped her, thrusting back just as hard.

We skipped riding that day, the thought of bouncing on the seat of bike being too much on her sore bottom.

We lay around until about three, when I made her get dressed. She drove if we took the Dart, unashamedly proclaiming it her car. We went to the mall, and I dragged her into a jewelry store.

"Pick," I said, standing in front of the engagement rings.

"Really?" she said, the tears already flowing.

"Really," I said, dropping to a knee, "now you know why I wore the suit. Marry me."

After she sobbed out a yes and calmed down, I think she tried on every ring in the store in the price range I could afford. She finally settled on a simply stone and band, not the most expensive, but the one she wanted.

...

When we walked into the bar, an instant party erupted. The women immediately huddled, leaving the men standing.

"What are they doing?" I asked. The men laughed.

"Planning a wedding, you idiot. The best advice any of us could give you is agree to everything she wants, if you can afford it. And stay as far away from them as you can."

...

She wanted a church wedding. We found one close, but part of the deal was we had to attend services for at least six weeks before the wedding.

It turned out to be a very good thing. The reverend was a pretty smart old guy, and he insisted on a few counseling sessions first. The disaster that was my first marriage came out along with all the stuff that happened to her. She cried for me, looked me in the eye, and said she would never do that to me. I believed her. We ended up being members, not going every week, but pretty often. I accused her of using it as an excuse to buy more dresses. She hardly ever wore anything else except when she worked. She wanted to keep her job, so she'd have money of her own.

"The first time you say I don't look good in dresses, I'll stop wearing them." she said smirking. Now she has so many she rotates, putting the off season ones in the other bedroom.

I can still shut my eyes and see Amanda walking down the aisle. The ivory lace and silk dress hugged her like a second skin, highlighting her shape. Her thick mane of hair fell down her back, shining in the light.

Helen stood in as mother of the bride. Sam gave her away. Fat Boy was my best man. Everyone from my job was there except Gail, and almost everyone from the bar attended. They escorted our limo to the airport on their bikes.

Mom was there. She fell hard for Amanda, she had always wanted a daughter. Amanda warmed up more slowly, but when we left, she leaned in and said something that brought fresh tears to her eyes. I asked about it on the way to the airport.

"I said 'thank you Mom, for sharing your son. I'll return the favor with your grandchildren.' It seemed to make her happy."

Then she distracted me by showing me hints of her wedding lingerie.

...

We honeymooned in Belize, because I had been to Cancun on my first honeymoon, and I did not want overlapping memories. I found out it was the first trip out of the country Amanda had ever been on. It was actually the first trip anywhere.

We had a ball. We hit the beaches, and she stayed under the umbrella a lot, her fair skin not caring much for the hot sun. I loved to watch her red hair shine as she walked. She shocked the hell out of me by dragging me to a topless beach. Amanda took off her cover, clad only in a tiny thong.

"Shut your mouth, honey. I wanted to give you something to remember. Me walking around almost naked while men drool over me, knowing that no one but you will ever touch me, should do it."