The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 26

Early in the contest, Pamela made a face and smacked Colt's shoulder. "You're being disrespectful."

"What? I'm not being disrespectful." He glanced at the seat in front of him, or more specifically, the mound of peanut shells collecting on the ground close to someone else's feet. "I'm making a mess, but this is what you do at baseball games. You eat peanuts and enjoy them."

Lindsay laughed. "You've had a lot of peanuts."

He focused on her. "I like peanuts at the game and you throw them on the ground. It's what you do."

"Kind of messed up, but..." Lindsay motioned toward the aisleway littered with beer and soda cups, hot dog and nacho carriers, wax paper and yes, peanut shells, "... this is disgusting. Look, it goes all the way down."

"Neanderthals." Pamela shivered theatrically. "I feel terrible for the workers who have to clean this up."

"They should give you a bag when you buy food here," Lindsay said to Colt, "so you can put your garbage in it."

"That wouldn't be any fun, though."

She quirked an eyebrow. "This is fun to you?"

"Yeah. It's fun to throw 'em on the ground."

"This is a million times worse than a movie theater. God, people are disgusting."

"Don't mind Colt." Pamela said to Lindsay. "He's the King of the Neanderthals and has no hope."

Colt stood and stretched his back. "I'm gonna go buy another Pepsi and a slice of pizza, I think. Either of you want anything?"

Pamela held up her own beverage. "Yes. More alcohol, please. I'm letting my hair down tonight."

"Get me some too."

"No." Colt's eyes narrowed as he gazed Lindsay's way. "Not in public; you're not of legal drinking age."

Her brows tightened together.

"Get her a hot dog... a foot longer. I'm sure she'd love that." Pamela brimmed with sudden laughter. "No, no, get her a corn dog instead!"

Lindsay first shot Pamela a lethal glare, then did the same for Colt. "Don't you fucking dare."

This whole "triad" thing seemed like a silly thought, a fleeting fantasy, and a recipe for disaster for an eleven-year marriage which had experienced its fair share of turbulence in recent times. At first, Colt had his reservations, but in the past several weeks he had witnessed a transformation in Pamela. She awoke feeling happier each day and often spoke about her desire to have Lindsay in their bed every night going forward and waking up beside her every morning. Pamela claimed Lindsay had stolen her heart - turned her life upside down - and could do the same for Colt. "Hey, I know it's unconventional, and not what you've envisioned all these years of wanting to be a father, but perhaps you could be Lindsay's new Daddy Dom. You know how much she craves that sort of guidance, that structure, that discipline."

Colt had to admit with each baby step they'd taken as a trio thus far, everything felt so natural, so right. The toughest challenge was coming to grips with the fact that Pamela's feelings for Lindsay weren't a threat to him or their marriage, but rather, a blessing. Once released from those chains of insecurity, Colt concluded that because Pamela was so in love with Lindsay, it strengthened and supported his own marriage with her.

What did it matter that this concept was so wild, so out of left field? How could Colt have two wives? His own wife have a wife of her own? Unconventional? You bet. But all he knew was that Pamela loved Lindsay. And Lindsay loved Pamela. And since these two ladies were welcoming him with open arms, well, this crazy idea just seemed right, and made a lot of sense.

I own and operate a brothel. Unconventional is my middle name. At the concession stand, Colt glanced heavenward for answers. What do you think, Dad? If nothing else, perhaps accepting Lindsay into his and Pamela's lives would repair the fractures their marriage had endured over the past year. Pamela has been on edge a lot lately, no doubt, but having Lindsay with us full-time would calm her, help her mellow out.

Happy wife, happy life.

Besides, Colt knew he had no choice. Pamela is not going to accept "no" for an answer this time.

As the bottom of the seventh inning got underway with the Orioles trailing 20-1, Colt, Pamela, and Lindsay had been getting teased by foul balls all evening as they landed in their vicinity. Colt had never snagged one during the one hundred or so games he'd gone to either here or at other various ballparks. Catching a foul ball, at least to him, was akin to discovering the holy grail.

A myth.

But then Rio Ruiz of the Orioles came to the plate and took a massive swing on the second pitch from Houston's Joe Smith.

At first, the ball didn't appear like it would reach the stands. It was catapulted high into the dark, nighttime sky as if it had been shot out of a cannon. It drifted closer, and Colt's eyes turned mammoth as almost everyone around them rose to their feet with anticipation.

Colt reached high with his right arm into the sea of hands. A momentary scrum ensued, and soon something smacked his open palm with great velocity. His fingers clenched and, before he knew it, Colt had a little piece of baseball history - Orioles history - in his grasp.

He became a ten-year-old again for a few seconds as he stared at the worn piece of rawhide. Did I catch the damn thing barehanded? Fuck, his hand hurt. And his heart was thumping.

But all was well.

He recalled bringing his glove to games when he was a kid even when he and William sat in the nosebleeds. One night at Dodger Stadium when they had decent seats, Colt came close. But some drunken brute jumped in front of him at a 1990 game and stole the ball that was coming straight for his glove. Colt was furious for three days.

It took forty-five years in total, and twenty-nine since that regretful night, but Colt had hit the jackpot! An older gentleman from behind patted him on the back and offered congratulations. "Nice catch, son! They oughta sign you up - the O's need all the help they can get!"

Without thinking about it, or paying any attention to the excited buzz in their section, Colt extended the ball toward Lindsay. He wanted it to belong to her.

Lindsay gasped and brought her opposite hand to her mouth, shocked he'd do such a thing. A few innings prior, Colt shared the story from 1990 and how angry it made him. Lindsay then commented that she'd snag a foul ball of her own for sure before the night was through.

Lindsay stared at the ball for several seconds as Colt insisted she take it. Pamela had no qualms, uninterested in something so frivolous. Soon, Lindsay accepted, and Colt received a gracious hug for the kind gesture. The whole stadium came alive with applause. Huh?

An instant later, Lindsay saw a young boy, perhaps age ten himself, with his eyes transfixed on the ball. He had his Orioles gear on, too, and a mitt on his left hand, not to mention that look of so close, yet so far away etched across his forlorn face. Colt knew the feeling.

Lindsay locked eyes with the boy.

She then turned and raised a lone brow at Colt.

He smiled and tipped a subtle nod.

Lindsay gave the ball to the young fan.

The crowd erupted with cheers.

As the young fan and his father thanked Lindsay profusely, Colt glanced up and noticed something extraordinary. Oh boy. That was why there was such a decibel roar! All four of them were on the big screen video board beyond center field. Had these past few seconds of their lives been shown to the masses?

The brilliant, glittering image zoomed in on Lindsay, who was so overcome with emotion from making the boy's day that she had to wipe tears from her cheeks. There was no way that she could have continued to hold them in. However, Lindsay had zero idea that she was on the big board. Yet the crowd saw what she had done and gave her a rousing ovation.

That, and because she was a pint-sized hottie not afraid to flaunt her considerable assets in skimpy attire.

Lindsay was confused at all the adulation until Colt pointed toward center field. She glanced out and screamed, embarrassed to be the focal point of the stadium (and thousands of televisions across Maryland and Texas). Would this simple act of human kindness go viral? Lindsay's ongoing reaction? She buried her face upon Colt's shoulder, seeking refuge in her own patented way. The crowd laughed uproariously.

Colt comforted Lindsay in his arms and his lips touched hers, a whisper of a kiss as Pamela looked on from the side, her cocoa-brown eyes glazed over, full of adoration, and a soft, unmistakable glow rippling all around her.

<> <> <> <> <>

Ducking in and out of hills, valleys, and ravines, their hike merged with the forest road, so Lindsay and Colt headed up a steep incline, and the gorgeous view of Patapsco State Park took her breath away.

Colt retrieved a waterproof blanket from his backpack and laid it on the grassy knoll next to Cascade Falls.

"Wow, I'm impressed. You've come prepared."

"I've done my fair share of hiking, too, you know."

She nodded. "I have no doubt." On Sunday afternoon, they parked near the swinging bridge and, as promised, made the trek up to the waterfall. The only thing that's missing is Pamela. Along the way, Lindsay marveled at enormous oak trees and blueberry bushes. And I thought the scenery out west could never be topped.

"You wait here. Don't move a muscle," Colt said an hour earlier in the parking lot, rendering Lindsay motionless - and a little confused - as he hopped out of his Jeep Wrangler and rushed over to the passenger side.

Lindsay tilted her head as he opened the door. "Thank you, kind sir." She stepped out and admired the landscape. "And thank you for everything this past week. I'll thank Pamela again, too, once we get back to Fairfax. Including me in your trip to California and paying for my airfare and inviting me into your home here in Maryland was so sweet. You didn't have to do that. And here I was thinking I'd have to stay at that hotel up in Ambridge you like so much during my week-long break. Again, thank you."

"Not a problem, my dear. It was our pleasure."

"So, you must be a Jeep guy. You have a red Wrangler here in Maryland for your home life, I see, and a gray one back in Nevada. Jeeps are cool. I can tell this one is newer. It has all the fancy digital stuff the other one doesn't."

"Yes, this one is seven years newer; it's a 2018. Believe it or not, I've owned six Wranglers throughout my lifetime. My first was an eighty-seven when I was your age. It's a vehicle, for whatever reason, that calls to me."

"Hmmph. They should make you their spokesperson."

"They couldn't afford my rates."

His throat resonated with two notes of a chuckle and Lindsay felt it right in the center of her chest. It was nice to hear Colt laugh, especially considering how they got off on the wrong foot a year ago. I thought he hated me during my first tour. Lindsay had never been browbeaten like that before and, though everything turned out all right, hoped it would never happen again.

She lifted a shoulder. "I'd say my rates are higher."

"Ehh, that's a safe assumption. I love you in the cutoffs, by the way."

Lindsay's cheeks colored as she glanced down at her shorts. "Considering what I'm used to, I feel so damn overdressed. Who'd have thought that was possible only wearing a t-shirt and pair of onlypuff cutoffs?"

"Make yourself more comfortable, then. Take them off. Take everything off."

"Don't kid around about stuff like that, okay?" Because you know I'll do it if you tell me to. I don't care; I'll strip down right here in public.

Especially if it leads to us eventually fucking.

"I wasn't kidding." Colt tossed Lindsay a studious glance and witnessed her turn a darker shade of crimson.

"Seriously? Well, I mean, if you..."

Colt held up a hand. "Hold your horses, cowgirl. I was only kidding."

Lindsay blew out her cheeks and righted her posture. "Jeeze Louise, I don't know what to think about you sometimes." Her nose crinkled. "It's like you're this mysterious puzzle, and I can't solve you. I don't know whether I'm coming or going."

"And how is that different than everything else in your life? You're quite the whimsical girl."

"I don't know. I mean, I'm not supposed to like you. You're a married man - married to my best friend, even."

"I'm not supposed to like you, either, but I do. And this best friend you speak of? My wife? You like her too. In fact, you love her. And Pamela loves you. Oh, does she ever. I hear it every day." He made a tsk, tsk, tsk sound and grinned. "Quite the little homewrecker, aren't you?"

Up at the waterfall, Colt's smile was akin to a warm caress across her cheek. "I've enjoyed our day out so far, Lindsay. I enjoyed last night at the ballgame, too, though the Orioles lost."

Amazed at how relaxed she was around him, especially considering their once-strained interactions, Lindsay said, "Yeah, it's been fun. When I hike, when I'm out in the wilderness like this, this is my one true happy place." The sky was clear and the air carried a musky scent mingled with pinewood. Gulls circled above, calling to each other as they flew back and forth. "I could do this all day."

Where had the person she once was gone? I'm still the same girl who went hiking with Dad every week when I was growing up, aren't I? The same girl who went to church twice a week and was close with her family. I don't understand why taking a "different" type of job has alienated me from them. Truth was, Lindsay missed her family much more than she'd let on with Pamela and Colt. Perhaps I should've gone home the other night and tried talking to them again. Lindsay's last contact of any sort with the Anastacio clan was all the way back in December. Maybe it's at the point now where they're afraid to approach me the same way I'm afraid to approach them. How many times, after all, had Pamela told her time heals all wounds? We need to meet in the middle and reconcile.

I'd give anything to hike The Clouds-To-Cactus Trail with Dad again. Those day-long excursions - just the two of them - were restorative, fun, and built strength in their father-daughter relationship. Oh, I miss being with Dad so much. Mr. Anastacio loved the outdoors and, much like Lindsay, found peace in nature.

I may never get to hike with him again....

"Have you ever thought about becoming a forest ranger?" Lindsay was pulled from those sad thoughts as she glanced up, an eyebrow raised, and surveyed Colt as he kept speaking. "I know Pamela is gonna help you later this week with your college application, but instead of majoring in Sociology, I don't know, perhaps you could try Agriculture instead." He held both hands out and rolled his shoulders. "I think you'd be a lot happier working outdoors - in nature - down the road instead of being behind a desk. You'd be perfect for a forest ranger job."

"I never thought of that, but it's a hell of an idea." Lindsay produced her smartphone and began searching on the Internet for information. "Is an Agriculture degree required to become a forest ranger? A park ranger?"

"I don't know for sure, but I'd think something like Agriculture, Engineering, Geology, maybe just plain Science would qualify you."

"Forestry too." Lindsay skimmed through an article with her forefinger. "Conservation, even Education. I'll talk to Pamela and see what she says, come up with a game plan." She bit her lip. "I love the house, don't get me wrong, but I don't want to be working there ten years from now."

"I don't want you to be working there ten years from now either." Lindsay's eyes again darted up as Colt, his tone soft and considerate, traced the length of his thumb across her bare knee. "You deserve better than that place."

"But I like what I do."

"I know you do. But it's not something you need to be doing long-term." He pulled a smoked tofu and veggie sandwich, encased in a wrapper, from his backpack and handed it to her. "Girls your age? I always tell them to save up for college tuition and then get the fuck out." He averted his eyes and grimaced. "But most ignore my advice."

She took a small bite. "Saving for college or getting the fuck out?"

"Both."

Lindsay put the sandwich down and turned her whole body to face him.

"Uh-oh. That's not a good look."

She fought the urge to smile. There was no place for smiling as she needed to level with him right now, perhaps get a clearer picture of the future, a definitive answer. "Is it true that you and Pamela are thinking of selling the house?"

"It's been discussed." He exhaled. "But we're going to hold off on that for the foreseeable future. Pamela wants to work a while longer." He sniffed his nose. "I'm not a saint, Lindsay. I've been working in our industry for a long, long time, and I want to be doing something different ten years from now myself. I can't... keep doing this."

The hurt in Colt's voice - or was it guilt? - found Lindsay unable to look away from his somber expression.

"I want a family - one, maybe two kids - and to have a regular, everyday job, and lead a normal, simple life. It doesn't have to be anything extravagant. I mean, whether it's a son or a daughter, or both, I'd like to, you know, go on hiking trips with them one day like this too."

Those words resonated; Lindsay's breath caught in her throat as she tried to speak, but no words came out. Zoinks. The young woman turned and kept her eyes on the horizon, afraid if she were to look at him, tears would start falling. Still, she felt his gaze.

"What's wrong, honey?"

Honey? Dad always called me "honey." Lindsay could hear her heart beating in her chest because it was so loud and it took all her willpower not to give in, crawl onto his lap, and hug him.

I'll go hiking with you whenever you want. This man had done funny things to her insides since the day they met when she had to sit through that grueling interview. He was big and muscular, and Lindsay often wondered if there were some tattoos underneath his linen shirt. I bet there is, and I need to find out. And soon. Her own skin was glowing; it was sensitive, much warmer than the summer temperature warranted. She also recalled Friday night, alone in bed, playing with her vibrator and falling apart with his name on her lips. I squirted like a firehose again.

"Nothing's wrong, Colt. Nothing... at all." Her words a whisper, she gulped back an uncomfortable lump in her throat. Wow, this was so unnerving. "I'm hopeful there's a spot for me in your family too."

She could feel his grin without needing to see it. "Oh, don't be silly. What would Pamela and I do without you?"

* * *

As they traversed back down the wilderness incline, Colt realized he wasn't doing himself any favors by spending this one-on-one time with Lindsay. Ninety minutes at the waterfall seemed like an eternity. How much longer could he stave off such intense temptation? The more time Colt spent around her, the more her unique mannerisms and characteristics became permanently imprinted on his brain. Like how Lindsay's lips pursed in the most kissable way when she was concentrating. Or how she would blow out an exaggerated breath whenever she was frustrated. And how perfect her little ass looked in the denim when she was climbing over a sprawling tree trunk.

That vision had to be the most endearing of all.

A tiny voice inside his brain reminded him of all the reasons this was a bad idea.

Lindsay was too young. She was still recovering from a toxic relationship. She made Colt do things, feel things, and forget things that he shouldn't.