Couch (Yellow Door)

This little one follows the Townhouse with the Yellow Door and Yellow Door 2.  This is the night of the infamous hot tub incident, Sundeck 1 & 2 (see also: Cater Waiter).  This is like our very own hot-tub time machine. 

lol-icopter.  (heard that today from some teenagers.)

It isn't much in the way of a vignette, just a little something that struck my fancy.  The one tomorrow will be a companion piece to it.

Heart .

****************

Nolan spread a sheet over the couch and pulled a few extra pillows from a closet. He was just adding the pillows to the set-up when his brother strolled back into the townhouse from the back patio.

“Nolan—What are you doing?” He asked, glancing back at the door to the patio where the young Mrs. Grey was still relaxing in a deck chair under the stars.

Nolan met his brother’s incredulous stare with an unruffled expression. “Making up a bed.” He responded blandly.

Jonah put down the dirty plates he’d been carrying in to the kitchen and hustled over to his brother. “You can’t expect the Calder heiress, the heavily pregnant Calder heiress to sleep on the goddamn couch?!” He was whispering, but his tone was an urgent panic.

Nolan raised his eyebrows. “Of course not.” He said easily, causing Jonah to look from the couch to his brother and back again, perplexed. “This isn’t for her Jonesy. It’s for you.”

They stared at one another for a long moment until Jonah finally had the grace to blush. He turned nearly as red as his hair and Nolan felt a grim satisfaction. “Or you can take my bed if you want and I’ll stay on the couch.” He offered, his voice friendly but implacable.

Nolan watched Jonah run a hand through his hair and then adjust his glasses. “Nolan—“

“Jones, she’s a married woman.” Nolan said frankly.

That peculiarly fierce expression stole over his brother’s face but Nolan was ready for him this time. “I know, I get it, ok? Her husband is a sleaze, I know, but Jonah,” Nolan took a breath and leveled: “You aren’t.”

Jonah blinked and his lips went thin and he searched his brother’s eyes for a long moment. Then he nodded. “I love her.” He said simply.

Nolan raised an eyebrow but knew better than to argue the ridiculousness of that point. “Then treat her right Jones.” Nolan said soberly. “Be a gentleman.”

Jonah stared at the sheeted couch and sighed. “Yeah.” He caved. “Yeah. Ok.”

Nolan smiled and took a breath. “I’ll take care of the dishes.” He offered. “You go keep our guest company out there.” He chuckled. “Show her some constellations or something.”

Jonah’s lips pulled into a quirky smile. “She’s amazing.” He whispered.

“Yeah.” Said Nolan. But privately he wondered just how fascinating a seventeen year old appliance company heiress could really be. Nolan patted his brother’s shoulder and nodded in the direction of the patio. “Go on.”

Jonah grinned and clapped his brother into a hug before bounding back toward his princess.

Nolan sighed and grabbed the lightweight throw quilt from the back of the recliner and arranged it on the couch too. It was late. He was tired. He wanted to go crash in his bed. But he felt some moral imperative to stay up, be present, act as some kind of chaperone. He didn’t trust his brother when the man got like this. Didn’t trust him not to make mistakes. And the girl was very beautiful and very young and very vulnerable. She had ‘damsel’ written all over her and Nolan knew Jonah’s particular set of romantic ideals, knew his brother wouldn’t be able to resist her, resist playing her champion. Christ, he already believed himself in love. This could get ugly for Jonah real fast.

Because Nolan didn’t know about that girl. She seemed nice enough, but really? He had a sick dread in his gut that told him Velvet Calder would never belong to anyone but that Golf Pro. Rumor had it she’d been a virgin when they’d met. And anyone could see how head-over-heels she was for the bastard. And she was carrying the prick’s baby. Nolan shook his head. She might fancy Jonah her knight-in-shining-armor right now, but something told Nolan that she’d never really get over Vaughan Grey.

He moved to the kitchen and began loading their dinner plates into the dishwasher and he wondered how tomorrow would go. And the next day. And after that.

The way he saw it, the odds were fifty-fifty that the girl would go back to her husband. Women often did this. Despite it being the absolute wrong thing to do. Young women especially, seemed to believe that the man might change his ways, believe that she could ‘fix’ him, ‘tame’ him or whatever. Nolan knew Vaughan Grey wasn’t ever going to change. Not for any woman. Velvet seemed like the kind of girl who would want to believe in their love and stick with the jerk.

However, she was also wealthy, which left her with a lot more options than most seventeen year old expectant mothers who have just discovered their man fucking-around. She could divorce him without blinking—she depended on him for nothing, save the physical connection, the title of ‘wife’ and the illusion of a happy little romance. And he’d effectively shattered that illusion in a pretty graphic and stunning manner, hadn’t he? And for the physical connection Nolan imagined she was ready to give Jonah a try. Upright, chivalric, attentive Jonah, who obviously adored her and would do anything to please her. Maybe she needed a revenge fuck, but watching her around Jonah, Nolan got the impression that she was legitimately smitten, honestly attracted to him. Hell she’s batted her eyelashes enough this evening to break some kind of record.

Nolan wasn’t sure though, about girls who picked the wrong men; would those girls ever be completely satisfied with a good guy? Looking at his own and Jonah’s track records with girls like that the evidence showed that the nice guys seemed to get shunted to the side when the bad boy’s motorcycle rode back into town or he got paroled or whatever. Nolan had long since stopped going after girls like that, recognizing that his brand of love and romance was the novelty for them and could never satisfy their need for something naughty, something dangerous, something troubled and dripping in testosterone. He’d been a bartender for a few years now and watched girls go with the wrong guy over and over and over, and he knew better which women to date and get involved with.

But Jones? Jonah kept falling for broken-hearted girls who were ostensibly ‘done’ with jerks, who were finally ready for a good man, only they weren’t done and they were fooling themselves. And Jonah.

But, Nolan argued with himself as he put away the take-out containers from the counter, but maybe she’d honestly believed Vaughan Grey to be her hero, her love, her prince, and hadn’t known how much of a bastard he was. She seemed pretty naïve. If that were the case then maybe Jonah stood a chance. If she had a heart for romance and fairy tales and true-love, well, then, maybe they’d stumbled upon their respective soulmates.

And Jonah didn’t have to say it for Nolan to know he intended, with every fiber of his being, to be there for her with that baby. Christ Almighty. Jonah was a sap. A warm, loving, sentimental, chivalric sap.

And he’d have done the same, Nolan thought to himself with a smirk, if he’d fallen in love up there on the sundeck, he’d probably have conducted himself in much the same way. He sighed and wiped down the counter before heading toward the patio. He’d stay up as long as they did. He just had to.