So I had this dream last night...and I decided I needed to write it down and what started as purely just dream writing turned into this. I'm rather pleased with it and I hope you enjoy it too. If you do in fact enjoy my "dream story" then pleaseee let me know. Mmk? Thanks!!!!
Those out there who are my age know what I'm feeling when I say 19 is purgatory. I mean, legally you're an adult but you can't actually do anything. What I mean is that your family and the government basically still can dangle that whole you're-not-actually-an-adult-yet thing over your head.
It was because I was stuck in purgatory that I was on this plane in the first place. Well, it was really my parents fault now that I think about it. Yeah. It's their fault. I mean, none of this was really my problem!
I was shipped off to babysit my elderly grandmother who lived in the oh-so-exciting state of Washington for the summer. Life sucks. To make my summer suckier, Grandma Tansy didn't live in any cool place like Seattle. No, she lived on the teeny Quileute reservation, La Push. Population: no one fucking cares.
And I, Phillipa Lockwood was being forced to spend the summer in this tiny, boring town. Yeah, yeah, get your laugh out now about my name. Mom had a thing with steamy romance novels back in the day and that's where the horrendous name Phillipa came from—if you've ever read any of those dirty romance novels you'll understand what I'm talking about. Because of my obnoxious name I preferred to be called Pippa or Pip much to my mom's exasperation.
Anywho, so there I was on my way to my boring summer vacation. Seriously, could anyone have thought of a worse punishment? No. Nope, not even possible. Well, I suppose they could've shipped me off to boot camp, but even my parents aren't that cruel.
As for why I was heading towards this stupid town for my summer, well it wasn't really my fault. I mean, how was I supposed to know that the Dean of the school's care looked exactly like my friend Natalie's? You'd think being the Dean of a college they'd at least be able to afford a Lexus or something—not a beat up Ford.
It was the day after I had wrapped the car in saran wrap, Crisco, more saran wrap and tagged the windows with car paint saying things like 'Skank' and 'Someone's a slut who likes it up the butt!' that I found out my mistake.
"How'd you like your car this morning?" I snickered to Natalie that morning noticing some sort of commotion coming from the parking lot in front of the UC. I smiled smugly sure that my handiwork was being admired.
Natalie had looked at me for a moment, "Um. It was fine. Why?"
"Because I decorated it for your birthday!" I had said laughing as we approached the crowd.
Tons of people were surrounding the little green Ford that had been defiled. Everyone was muttering and talking, some were even taking pictures. As we both came in sight of the car, Natalie gasped putting her hand over her mouth.
"How didn't you notice this?" I had asked her, "I DID THIS!" I smiled widely and shouted my admission.
Suddenly, the entire crowd went deathly silent. Natalie's eyes were wide and she looked at me with a scared face.
"Pippa," she'd whispered, "that's not my car."
I'd frowned at that. "Yeah, it is . . . it's a green Ford . . ."
Clicking heels on the sidewalk had diverted my attention and I looked up to see the Dean approaching me.
"No," she'd said her beady eyes furious, "that's my car."
And that's how I'd ended up on this plane to nowhere land. A misunderstanding! Luckily, after finding out that the prank was meant for someone else the Dean hadn't pressed charges but when my parents found out they had served me up and entre of punishment ala mode.
The airport in Port Angeles, the closest airport to La Push, was a tiny thing and was definitely claustrophobic with the small amount of people being shoved in an even smaller space. My five foot nine frame towered over people nicely.
Part of my aversion to going to La Push was that despite my half-Quileute heritage I had managed to fail completely at looking anything remotely Native American. Because the universe hates me.
I was unusually tall, with a willowy frame. I had the copper skin that was associated with my Native American heritage and the high cheekbones but that was where the similarities ended. Because my hair was a startling shade of blonde curls I stood out even more. My large green eyes that made me look like a deer in the head lights only added to my strange appearance. On the plus side, the Lord had obviously seen it fit since he had screwed up my other attributes to bless me with a pair of boobs of which I was grateful.
Finding the exit swiftly thanks to my height I headed out into the cool, wet Washington air. I snagged a cab and leaned back to rest my eyes against the never ending green that permeated the light around me.
It seemed like only minutes later that the taxi pulled up in front of an old dilapidated green house (of course, as if things needed to be more green here) with a pair of dormer windows and a large porch being it's distinguishing features.
Wrenching my luggage from the trunk, I paid the cabby and walked up the rotting wood porch to knock on the door to Grandma Tansy's house.
When no one answered the door I knocked a little louder and called out.
"Grandma!? Grandma, it's me, Pippa!"
The door creaked open and I was face to face with the end of a .9mm Glock. I gasped and jumped back from the door successfully dropping my luggage with a loud thud and a crash as it fell through the rotting floor boards.
"Shit! Grandma it's just me!" I yelled staring wildly from the gun in my face to the hole in the porch.
The gun was lowered and Grandma Tansy peered out from behind the door her bottle cap glasses low on her nose. She squinted at me and then looked at the hole.
"Hm," she said, "probably should get that fixed." She looked back at me. "Well, don't just stand there Phillipa! Come in, come in!" She disappeared inside.
Shaking my head in disbelief I fished my luggage out of the hole and followed Grandma Tansy inside. She was waiting for me in the foyer. I set my luggage on the floor carefully and stared at her.
"I hope you had the safety on on that," I told her motioning to the Glock that she held in her hands.
Grandma Tansy shrugged. "Dunno," she told me easily and then placed the gun inside the 16th century replica vase that sat on a table in the foyer. "Don't really even know if there are any bullets in the thing," she turned back to me, "just use it to scare off those damn Jehovah's witnesses."
I shook my head again and for the first time I really, and I mean, really looked at Grandma Tansy. She was about a head shorter than me and her brown skin was crinkled like a brown paper bag. Her hair was cut short and was an unnatural shade of black. She was dressed in a baby pink velour sweat suit and to my utter horror—crocs.
She came over and gave me a big hug before stepping back.
"Well now, let's get you settled in," and with that she sprung up the stairs towards where the two bedrooms were. I shook my head as I followed her, lugging my suitcase up the stairs with me. Grandma Tansy was spry for her sixty-four years of age.
Up the creaky wooden stairs were two bedrooms and a bathroom. I was given the bedroom on the left. It was painted a shade of blue that could only be described as powder blue. There was an old brass bed with white bedding on it in the center of the room. A black night stand stood on its side with that leg lamp from A Christmas Story on it. The curtains that decorated the single dormer window were white and lacy.
Shrugging at the eccentric decorating I emptied my suitcase in the small closet. I shuddered when I took a look at the tiny bathroom—light pink and avocado green in its glory.
Grandma Tansy bid me goodnight and I followed her lead hopping into bed and hoping that this summer would not suck as much as I predicted it would.
I woke the next morning to multiple noises. In the foreground was the sound of some sort of music that included an ear shattering bass. Behind that was something else. I rolled from my bed mumbling angrily under my breath.
The smell of bacon and coffee wafted up through my door helping me move a little faster. I hopped in the shower and threw on a pair of ratty jeans and a tee shirt. A look out the window assured me that Washington was every bit as wet as I was told.
I trudged down the stairs to the kitchen. The kitchen—like most of the house—was stuck in a 1952 time warp. The black and white checkered floor to the yellow cabinets were all very Donna Reed-esque.
A boom box on the counter was the source of the noise. Blaring loudly from its speakers was the latest hit by 50 Cent. The beats were so loud that the dishes on the counter were also clinking along with some sort of pounding noise.
Grandma Tansy stood at the stove frying bacon and dressed in a neon yellow track suit with the ever present crocs. I shuddered to myself before turning the music way down. Grandma Tansy looked up from the stove.
"I was getting jiggy with it!" she told me in a hurt tone.
I shrugged. "I was getting a headache."
Nodding, Grandma Tansy turned back to her bacon. It was then that I noted a noise hadn't stopped. The pounding—well, hammering really. Frowning with confusion I stood and walked through the all white living room (except for the faux tiger pelt rug on the floor) and looked out the front window.
There on the porch fixing the hole were three, extremely attractive males. And they were huge! What did they feed kids here? Steroids?
To my extreme appreciation all three were shirtless and had very defined muscles. One of them looked up and caught my eye. He smirked at me and gave me a little wave. Embarrassed to be caught ogling them, I waved before retreating back to the kitchen.
Grandma Tansy was just setting bacon and eggs on a plate when I walked back into the kitchen. I took the plate and sat down at the kitchen table.
After pouring two mugs of coffee and placing them on the table, Grandma Tansy finally joined me with her breakfast. We both dug in—black hole stomachs were a family trait.
I took a sip of my coffee and noticed that Grandma Tansy was pouring something into her coffee from a flask that was decorated with kittens. My eyebrows shot up.
"Grandma! It's not even eleven yet!" I told her horrified.
Grandma Tansy topped off her coffee and then placed the flask back inside her jacket. "It's five somewhere; besides, when you're old like me . . . you need a little nip or two to get you started."
I just stared.
"I got some nice boys to fix the hole in the porch for us," she went on as though she hadn't just poured alcohol into her coffee. "Did you see 'em?"
"Oh, I saw them alright. Are all the guys here that massive?"
She laughed. "Most of them. Did you see anything you liked?" she took a sip of her coffee.
"Grandma!" I sputtered, "I—wha—yes."
Nodding, Grandma Tansy tucked into her food again. "That's good! They're all such nice boys. And I want great-grandchildren."
The fork I had in my hand clattered to the table. "I'm sorry, what?!"
"You'd have pretty babies with them. And I want pretty great-grandkids," she took a large drink of her coffee, "don't want any ugly ones."
My eyes bulged. "What? I don't even know them! Grandma! Sheesh, is that why you had them come over here?" I asked suspiciously, the light suddenly dawning on me.
Grandma shrugged. "No," she replied innocently.
I glared at her; I was on to her act. I was just about to come up with some snarky comment when the front door opened and two of the guys shuffled in.
"Hey Miss Tansy, we're finished," one with longish black hair said. My eyes raked his body. Damn, he was hot!
Grandma Tansy stood from seat and waved the boys into the kitchen, the other guy with shorter hair was a tiny bit shorter than the one who had spoken and was quite a bit muscular. He had an amused grin on his face as he looked at me. He was the one that had caught me staring.
"Jacob," she said to the longer haired boy, "Seth," he was the shorter one, "This is my granddaughter, Phillipa."
"Pippa, Gram, Pippa!" I groaned leaning back and shutting my eyes as the guys snickered.
"My granddaughter, Pippa," she repeated before pulling out more plates, "Here you boys go, some food for your work!" She placed a heaping mound of bacon in the frying pan. "Where's Embry at?"
Jacob sat in the chair across from me his long legs taking up most of space beneath the table. "He's putting everything back in the car—he'll be here in a minute."
Seth settled himself in the chair next to me. He leaned forward so that his face was near mine. The amused grin hadn't gone away.
"So Pippa, you gonna be here long?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes at him. "No, no, no. I thought I'd take a flight out from Indiana all for the purpose of visiting my grandma for a day."
"She's here all summer, ignore her sarcasm!" Grandma Tansy called from the stove.
Seth's smile grew more wolfish. "It's okay," he yelled to Grandma Tansy before looking back at me, "I like them feisty."
There was a smack as Jacob's hand made contact with Seth's head. "Don't be a creep, Seth."
Seth rubbed the back of his head. The front door opened and closed and there in my line of vision was the single most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. I mean, Seth and Jacob were definitely 10s on a 1-10 scale, but this guy, he was a certified 20. He was a God. Mere mortals could not look that good.
I had to stop myself from jumping him. The new guy was taller than Seth, about the same height as Jacob but he wasn't as lean. He was hard muscle—washboard abs much?—and his hair was slightly longer with a shag to it. His chocolate brown eyes were fringed in long dark lashes. His jeans hung low on his hips and my mouth drooled as he turned to pull the door shut and I got a glimpse of his butt.
Dear Lord, did I die and go to heaven?
The God walked into the room and didn't even glance my way. He immediately sat next to Jacob and smirked at Seth flashing a brilliant smile.
Breath, Pippa, breath.
"What did you do now Seth?" he asked in a bored tone before looking up at the ceiling.
"Nothin'! I was just telling, Pippa here, what I liked in a woman!" Seth had the nerve to sound affronted.
"He was being obnoxious," I put in.
"I agree," Jacob said, "Embry, Miss Tansy's making us some breakfast."
Embry stared at the ceiling, "Excellent."
Grandma Tansy yelled from the kitchen to where we sat at the table. "Embry, honey, meet my granddaughter Ph—"
"Pippa," I stressed cutting her off. "How're you doing?"
Embry took his eyes off the ceiling and looked at me. "I'm doing just fi—" he broke off and his eyes widened, his mouth went slack. The hand he had been reaching out to shake mine with dropped to the table with a loud thud.
"Or have a seizure . . ." I said with a frown.
Embry's mouth snapped together with a click and his eyes lost their glazed look. Instead they were replaced with astounding warmth. He smiled widely at me.
"Sorry," he said ruefully, "I was just momentarily blinded by your beauty."
I snorted at that. "Right."
Jacob and Seth were both staring at Embry with knowing looks on their faces. Their eyes kept flickering from Embry to me and back again. It was really annoying. I stood up from the table.
"Well," I said awkwardly inching towards the stairs, "it's been nice and all . . . but . . . I have stuff to do. Bye." I whipped around to flee up the stairs from the very attractive guys in my kitchen.
Unfortunately for me I ran smack into something warm and hard. Before I could fall backwards however, someone pulled me up again. I looked up the half foot into the face of the God. I stepped back quickly—I needed to get away from this hottie or I would do something embarrassing.
"Stuff to do?" he asked smirking.
Oh God. Don't smile at me, don't smile!
"Yeah, stuff. . ." I said lamely.
He smiled a blinding smile at me and I swear the saliva in my mouth multiplied. I was weak—a human and Embry—well, he was pure sex. He was sex on legs. Immediately at that thought my imagination jumped ahead to what it would be like to have him hold me to kiss me to unbutton my shirt to---
No. Bad Pippa. Bad girl!
". . . tomorrow night?" he was saying.
I snapped from my daydream. Shit. What had he said? I wasn't paying attention to his words I was too busy imagining his full lips on mine and how good that would feel—
BAD PIPPA! BAD BAD BAD!
Embry's eyes shadowed with confusion and I knew he was probably wondering about my eternal debate.
So what if you didn't hear what he said, just answer him! I opened my mouth and just started talking.
"Yeah, yeah that'd be great!" was my generic response.
He smiled brightly again almost blinding me with his God-like appearance. This man was way too attractive for his own good. Way too attractive. Shit. What did I agree to? I hoped it wasn't anything bad. He could've just asked me if I wanted to go on a killing spree tomorrow night and I had been so blinded by his man-hunkiness that I had agreed to it!
"Good. I'll see you then," he said dismissively. When I failed to move he continued with a raised eyebrow. "Pippa, have fun with your . . . stuff . . ."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "Yeah, I will . . ." and then I rushed up the stairs and away from that unnaturally good looking guy's gaze. What in the world had I gotten myself into?