Luca's Dilemma Read online

  Naw.

  With a groan, she lifted her face from the muddy earth with the palms of her hands. Using the last of her strength, she slowly got back on her feet, pushing all asinine ideas of cosmic punishment away. She futilely attempted to wipe off the grass and mud covering the front of her body while simultaneously seeking out what had caused her flight. There, on the edge of her porch, sat two shiny jugs of fresh maple syrup. Apparently, Janie had been by. Normally, Sheila would have been appreciative of her neighbor’s gift, even though she didn’t do sweets, but having damn near broken her neck over such thoughtfulness served to only heighten her ire.

  No longer concerned about getting soiled or losing shoes, she stomped toward her car, sending mud and random cuss words flying liberally in her wake. Her bold stride almost landed her on her ass a few times, but she was far too gone in her anger to care. Furiously, she grasped the handle on the driver's side door, only to have it slip from her gooey fingers. She tried again, this time maintaining her stronghold on the handle and practically ripping the door off its hinges.

  With a twist of her wrist, she roughly switched the ignition to the off position. Sprinkles of brown liquid landed on various parts of her pristine white leather interior and dashboard, causing her breath to catch in her throat. In horror, Sheila stared at the little raised bumps as the mud instantly began to dry in place.

  Can it get any worse? she thought, as the drying dots she willed away began to blur. “No crying,” she chastised herself, forcing the tears away before they could gain momentum. She had managed to stay strong for six months, and she wasn’t about to give that up now.

  Stepping back from the vehicle, she took a deep breath, calming her inner rage and forcing the urge to break down to subside before shutting the car door gently and carefully trudging back to her porch. Even though she slowed her roll, the trek back seemed more arduous. Her L.L. Bean rubber mocs were literally sucked into the liquefied soil, each step threatening to knock her off balance.

  By the time she reached the porch again, she was covered from head to toe in the brown goo. She bent over, grasping the sides of her pants as she performed a quick assessment of the damages and then stopped short. Her gaze slowly lifted as the realization she hadn't locked the car door set in.

  “Ah, forget it! If anyone wants the damn thing, they can have it!”

  Turning from the vehicle, she removed her mocs, deciding it best to leave them on the porch before carefully stepping inside her home. Once the door closed behind her, she began to undress. All movement ceased as two things occurred to her. No one was around for miles, leading her to wonder who would be able to find her car, let alone steal the damn thing. And, the car had a remote locking system, which allowed her to easily lock it from a good distance. Feeling the need to do so, she moved to the living room window and pushed the car's remote button. She couldn't help but shake her head in shame at her foolishness.

  “Hot heads never prevail,” she muttered under her breath, repeating her momma’s words of wisdom.

  A small prayer escaped her lips as she thanked God for hardwood floors while managing to move deeper into her home. Soiled clothing hit the floor with each step as the fogginess continued to further encompass her brain. She was too far gone to worry about cleanup. The extra effort to get in the house had drained her. She was beyond tired and needed desperately to hit the hay before her current disposition prompted her to commit any more ridiculous acts.

  However, her lowered cognitive abilities didn’t prevent the bullshit of the night before from penetrating her fog–filled brain. It had been the last shift of her workweek at the sleep lab, and nothing else would have caused it to end more dramatically than spending it with “the twins”, as she had affectionately come to call them. As usual, it hadn’t gone well. She didn’t work with the drama queens often because they worked on an as–needed basis.

  But when they did work, for reasons beyond her comprehension, it seemed to always be with her. One twin at a time may have been, at the most, tolerable. Unfortunately, it was always with both of them, as if one wasn't able to function without the other. She had to rethink that one. Putting the word “function” and “the twins” in the same thought was an overly polite use of the word.

  On top of caring for two very demanding patients who’d dutifully taken their diuretics that day, Sheila'd had to witness the twins dance around the tech room with their beloved country music at eardrum–splitting volume. It wasn't the cool type of country music either. It was that twanged–out shit that grated on the nerves of even the most hardcore music enthusiast. The ditzes had swayed and swung to it as though they were in some kind of Oklahoma musical gone awry.

  Ordinarily, listening to music wouldn’t have been a problem as she and her other co–workers occasionally boogied down in the wee hours to keep awake. And, hey, she tolerated country music just as much as the next Atlanta–raised debutant. But the two blonde bulbs kept disturbing the patient in the next room with their antics and ignoring their assigned patients whenever they called out for assistance.

  Growing tired of the whole mess, Sheila had asked the twins nicely to turn the music down and pay attention to their patients, only to be accused of being a racist. Where the hell that had come from was still a mystery to her. While she continued to stare at the pair dumbfounded, the bigger of the two mumbled something about Bobby Brown crossing over before storming out of the room to finally tend to her patients' needs. The door slamming behind her caused all the other patients to awaken with a start. Sheila lost it when this led to another round of bathroom trips. “I have to pee!” and “Nurse!” were still stuck in her head from hearing the patients call out over and over again for the rest of the night. Being called a nurse when she wasn’t one hadn’t helped to improve her disposition.

  By the time the shift ended, Sheila was beyond perturbed. Barely resisting the urge to bang the twins’ heads together, she had quietly completed her morning duties and prepared to leave.

  At that moment, the smaller of the two had turned to her and said, “Aren't you going to stay and help us?”

  To which Sheila had rolled her eyes and left before she got herself in trouble. Try as she might, she just didn’t get those two.

  Shaking off the wretched memory, Shelia continued moving farther into her home until she reached her small bathroom. She was barely able to shower and perform her pre–sleep routine. She forced herself to concentrate, knowing it was the only way she would get through the menial tasks of brushing her teeth and washing the greasy film off her face. It didn’t help that she was cramping in anticipation of the much–unwelcomed geyser that tortured her each month since reaching the big four–O. With effort she managed to get through it, not really caring if she had put everything back in its rightful place or had dutifully scrubbed the appropriate body parts.

  Leaving the bathroom, she realized that she hadn’t done laundry, limiting her choice of sleep attire. Feeling way too tired to search for a nightgown, she donned the first thing she found, crawled into bed, and easily succumbed to the delicious sleep that wrapped around her.

  ***

  Having completed his morning workout, Luca stepped out onto his massive wraparound porch with the usual mug of morning coffee in hand. He inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh grass scent of the spring morning and allowed his eyes to roam over the vast green of the rural property that he had come to call home. This was his kingdom. He knew it had been luck when his cousin, Tyler, stumbled across the large white farmhouse with detached barn while considering prospects for his real estate business. The house sat on four hundred acres of secluded land, which consisted of open fields for haying, bountiful trees, and a massive man–made pond. Luca had instantly fallen in love with it while peeking over Tyler's shoulder.

  His mood soured slightly when he recalled how Drago, his older cousin, had tried to talk him out of this endeavor, stating that he was neither mellow nor disciplined enough to live the small town life. To Luca
’s surprise, it had been Tyler and Drago’s partner, Tony, who had finally convinced his two cousins that the small rural town might be just what Luca needed to attain such–said discipline.

  Setting his now empty coffee mug on the railing, Luca reached toward the sky in a full–body stretch, bringing his stiff muscles roaring to life. He began making his way out to the barn to retrieve another bale of hay for his stallions. The latest addition to the group had quite the appetite and endless energy to go with it. It was almost like having a kid with ADHD, not that he had or wanted much experience with people of a miniature stature.

  Thinking about his new role in life made him shake his head in amusement and had his thoughts wandering yet again to all it had taken to get here. Even after all the papers had been signed, no one, including him, had actually fathomed he would move to Maine, of all places, and fulfill his boyhood dream of breeding horses as a hobby. It was definitely not his native New York, but in the last year, he had truly come to admire the peace and quiet that completely contrasted the place of his upbringing. The seclusion was what he enjoyed most, even though it gave him way too much time to think.

  When he informed the rest of his family of his intentions, his pops had accused him of running away from the responsibility of marrying a nice Italian girl and providing grandchildren to carry on the family business. He often reminded the old man that he had two other children to handle that, not to mention several existing grandchildren and great–nephews.

  As far as the “nice Italian girl” plan went, Luca had almost tried that once. Her ultimate betrayal still hung heavy on his heart all these years later. No one would ever be given the chance to do that to him again. Eventually Pops would come to see that Luca was just fine spending his days on his land and answering the call to the family business when need be. Besides, why settle for one woman when so many were willingly at his disposal?

  The memory of his last romp caused the corners of his mouth to turn up. He’d lived the ultimate fantasy of ravaging not one, but two blonde bombshells at once while attending a horse show in Spain. That night had been a scorcher, ending much too soon and leaving him ravenous for more. More of what, he wasn’t sure. But he knew spending more than one night with those particular two women wouldn’t have given it to him. Climbing the ladder to the upper loft, he shook his head, not wanting to think about that right now.

  Suddenly, it occurred to him that very heated encounter had taken place well over a month ago. It would appear this horse thing was infringing on his social life. Somehow he managed to continue with his mundane task of fetching the hay while his mind immediately went into overdrive, contemplating how to remedy the situation. Sexual encounters too close to home were dangerous. One night of passion or the wrong words could turn an independent hottie into a desperate piece of clingy plastic wrap that he’d have to waste energy shaking off. Experience had taught him the closer they lived, the more likely that was to happen.

  Perhaps a trip to New York was in order. Or maybe he should look into booking an all–inclusive trip to Australia with Ferreira Cruise Lines. They had only been in operation for a few years, but their services and accommodations were renowned in his small circle of friends. The night life was said to be phenomenal, not to mention that huge, luxurious ship was bound to be full of beautiful, no–commitment–required women, just the way he liked them. The thought of what he'd do to each one of them — a redhead on Monday, a brunette and a blonde on Tuesday — after so many weeks of involuntary celibacy made his cock twitch and his mouth smile broadly.

  A distant, yet shrill scream pierced the air, shattering his oh–so–naughty thoughts. The bale of hay he held slipped from his gloved fingers as he stood stark still, trying to calm his pounding heart and pinpoint the source of the noise. Within seconds the sound came again, catapulting him into action. He slid down the ladder and burst from the barn in an all–out sprint. Instinct drove him as he made a beeline for his rental house, where, more than likely, the sound had originated. Feet barely touching ground, he managed to cover the two hundred plus yards of treacherous, muddy grass in no time. Luca hadn't had the chance to meet his new neighbor, but it didn't take a genius to realize the woman was in trouble.

  Fleetingly, he considered the possibility that this might be a trap. However, it didn't take long for him to discern that it clearly wasn't. Stopping short outside the tiny house, Luca bugged his eyes in disbelief. Chino, the newest addition to his horse collection, stood outside the neighbor’s window, or at least the rear end of him did. His long, black tail lazily swung side to side while he burrowed his head deeper inside the opening doing God knows what to set the woman off. How the hell had he gotten out of his stall?

  Another shrill scream split the air, cutting off his pondering and prompting him to advance on the horse. When calling to the stubborn animal failed, he immediately set out trying every trick he could remember Richard teaching him to coerce the large equine away from the window. Anything to shut the woman up. After much effort, he finally gained control of the animal by use of a half–eaten apple he found lying close by.

  “That a boy, Chino,” he cooed. “Let’s get you home.”

  Luca’s attempt to walk away was thwarted by a strange heat scorching the back of his head. He turned around, gazing back toward the window where the source of the discomfort emanated, his eyes bugging once they came in contact with the most malicious glare he had ever encountered. In his relief of finally recovering Chino, he’d completely forgotten about the woman, and she obviously wasn’t happy about it. He swore he felt a couple of his eyebrow hairs singe from the heat of that fierce stare.

  Deterring from his normally crass manner, he chose to handle the awkward situation in a more gentlemanly manner. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry. I don’t know—”

  His attempt at an apology was cut short by the longest, foulest stream of vulgar language he’d ever heard descend from the mouth of any female, or male for that matter. For the first time, he really looked at her. He stood in awe, captivated by the livid woman, yet unable to comprehend how such obscenities were able to fall so freely from such lovely lips. They were thick and heart shaped; the kind the good lord made for sucking on. He imagined they would feel like tiny pillows as they attempted to wrap around and caress a certain part of his body.

  Eventually he tuned her words out altogether as her bright blue lace bra and matching boy–cut panties drew his attention away from her fierce tongue. Moisture gathered in his mouth, and he felt himself hardening as his eyes took in her generous, light brown breasts. They were all natural, bouncing and wiggling viciously against the flimsy fabric of her bra as she leaned out the window, putting all she had into her verbal assault. In his mind, he captured the hefty treasures in each of his hands and voraciously ran his tongue over the large mounds. They felt and tasted so good his fist started to subconsciously milk the horse's reins that he held with both hands, and he practically started drooling.

  His gaze slid to her hips as they gyrated sensually against the windowsill. Oh, those hips! They were perfect for full–thrust mode, and boy was he in need of a good thrust or two. The tightness of his jeans intensified as they stretched to accommodate his growing hard–on. He suddenly felt the urge to gyrate his own hips as images of grabbing her from behind and grinding his manhood against what had to be an ample ass to tie it all together danced freely in his head. God, what a body, was his last coherent thought before common sense slipped away entirely.

  “Ouch,” he yelped then winced. A dull pain upside his head had unexpectedly interrupted his lewd fantasy. Coming out of his dream–filled haze, he refocused his attention on the ground. There at his feet lay, of all things, a small rubber sheep. “What the… who the hell keeps rubber sheep in their house?” Luca asked rhetorically, rubbing the now throbbing point of contact. Damn, she’s got a good arm.

  “Apparently I do, horse–boy. Now stop gawking at me like you were raised by goddamn wolves or something and give me my headsca
rf back,” she demanded, her lovely brown hand hanging expectantly out the open window.

  With a great sense of foreboding, Luca slowly shifted his eyes toward the horse. Sure enough, a multicolored scarf dangled quirkily from Chino’s mouth. How had he not seen it before?

  “Okay, boy, let go of the scarf.” He tugged lightly at the bright, multicolored material, but the stubborn horse clamped down harder. He stepped closer to the animal and began rubbing his mane lightly in an attempt to further calm the horse, but Chino wasn’t buying it and held on tenaciously.

  With little choice, Luca increased the force with which he tugged at the scarf hanging from the uncooperative horse’s mouth. A shudder ran through him, and his eyes clenched tightly as the sound of tearing fabric rent the air. Any feelings he had were replaced by a sense of dread as he heard a loud gasp from the vixen in the window. He slowly opened his eyes to find two large, ornery, amber ones glaring back at him. No doubt about it… the woman was pissed!

  “Mr. Moriatti,” she started with a calm voice and a sweet smile that belied the anger in her beautiful eyes. “Please be advised that I’ll be deducting the cost of my favorite head scarf from next month's rent. But from now on, my friend, I strongly encourage you to keep that goddamn horse away from me, or I swear I’ll donate him to the nearest school cafeteria, glue factory, or whoever will take the damn thing! Freaking—” She slammed the window with such force pieces of rotted cedar siding fell to the ground, bringing to mind that he probably needed to fix that, among other things.