Under the Orange Moon Read online

  Ben pulled at Dylan’s hand and guided her through the dark. Together, they hopped over a concrete divider and found the darkest corner that they could locate on the other side, which happened to be the yard of their most crotchety of all neighbors, Mr. Raymond.

  As Ben ran his lips against the skin of her neck, Dylan smiled, out of breath and tingling from head to toe. “Mr. Raymond is the only person that doesn’t come tonight and you choose his yard to do this in?”

  Ben kissed Dylan’s slender neck, and teased, “He’ll be missing two shows then.”

  “I wish we could sleep together tonight,” Dylan confessed, dizzily. She didn’t even try to conceal her sounds of pleasure as Ben moved his mouth and body against her.

  Ben pulled Dylan’s dress up and stood between her legs. “Trust me. I’ll make it to your room tonight,” he whispered into her ear.

  Dylan’s toes practically curled under every time Ben’s lips grazed her skin. She had never felt such passion or need to be touched by someone. True, she was a virgin up until only the night before, but she never imagined the lingering sensations that Ben was able to leave behind on parts of her body that he wasn’t even touching in that moment. It was as if those parts were begging for his attention, asking for his lips and hands to feel their way over and satisfy her need.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered with a genuine smile on his mischievous face. He stared with passion, heat and sincerity as he lifted her leg and slowly wrapped it around his waist.

  Her stomach fluttered as he moved in closer and pulled at her bottom lip with his teeth. She sighed as she laid her head back against the wall and took him in with a head spinning greed. She couldn’t resist him. She was convinced she would ultimately drown in this new version of him and, for the first time in their ongoing saga, she wouldn’t fear it.

  They made love in Mr. Raymond’s yard and beneath the fireworks that had begun to shoot above them, a moment that they both realized had to take place only because of the ties that pulled it all together: the fireworks, of course, the final closing of the hand holding that had taken place five years before and, finally, the small delight of sticking a jab at the evil little man, Mr. Raymond.

  They dressed together and then kissed as Ben buttoned his shirt. It was almost unbearable to pull away from him, knowing he would be stolen in the night by her brothers. She knew where he wanted to be, but she was beside herself just knowing that she could never kiss him or touch him out in the open world.

  “Wait,” Ben said once more. He held her hand and slowly eased her back to him with a wayward smirk. “I’ll see you later. You know the spot?”

  Dylan laughed with an uncontrollable adoration behind her voice. There was no sense in even attempting to hide her joy. “I think I know, but you should draw me a map just to be sure I know how to get to my bed.”

  “It’s easy,” he teased, drawing her closer. He guided her fingers to his chest and stopped over his heart as he placed her palm flat on top of it. “We’ll meet right here.”

  Dylan felt her breath fall short as she stared back at him with shock all over her face. Who was this man?

  “Right there then,” she whispered, and stood on her toes to press her mouth to his.

  They separated after many moments of rushing back for another final kiss. They both took opposite sides of the house to make their way around. Dylan went first.

  She crept up onto the porch and positioned herself comfortably, alone and somewhat hidden, in an attempt to claim that she had been in that spot the entire time. She sighed and looked up into the sky and couldn’t help but smile at the fond sounds and lights of Christmas Eve.

  Dylan watched as Ben made his arrival into the crowd of her brothers in the driveway. She laughed quietly every time she caught him searching for her until his careful eyes finally found her on the porch. He smiled quickly and turned his head back to Charlie’s direction as if to at least pretend to be interested in the activity there.

  You love me, she thought as she watched him continue to watch her discreetly.

  When Dylan was twelve, she painted Ben a picture for his birthday: two children, standing on a mountain and holding hands under a giant, red heart in the sky. When it dried, she rolled it up and wrapped a silver bow around the paper. She nervously walked it over to Ruth’s house and laid it on the porch, all before running away.

  He never said a word about it. He never said a thank you, or even a more Ben-appropriate comment, like how awful it was. It was as if it never happened.

  Dylan remembered crying on the very porch she sat on now. Carl came, cradled her to him and wiped the tears from her cheek.

  “Boys are stupid,” she recalled him saying. “They never know a good thing until they’ve run it over a few times.”

  Dylan tried to breathe through her tears. “He hates me, Daddy.”

  Carl shook his head and pushed the wet strands of hair away from her tear soaked face. “No, no. It’s just the opposite. Ben likes you and that’s why he goes the extra mile to show how much he doesn’t. He’s a stupid boy.”

  Carl died six months later.

  The red, green and gold colors burst above her head, bringing her back to her now, her new present time of Ben. She looked up and felt her father all around, as everyone did on this night, she suspected.

  “I miss you, Daddy,” she whispered into the sky.

  “Hey,” Michael said, stepping up onto the porch to join, as well as distract, Dylan. “Why are you alone?”

  “I’m just thinking of my dad, remembering him.” Dylan rolled her eyes and sat forward in her chair. She felt Ben’s glares without needing to look.

  “Do you want some company?” he asked, sitting before an invitation was granted.

  “Why aren’t you over there with my brothers?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the way things were left yesterday.” He seemed sad, which only irritated Dylan now. She had made her decision and he needed to respect it and settle for her friendship. “I don’t want things to be weird and I’m scared you’re going to quit,” he admitted.

  “I’m not going to quit, Michael.” She laughed. “I need the money if I ever want to get out of my mother’s house.”

  “That’s good.” He sighed and looked to the ground. “Are you going to tell your brothers about Ben?”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” She could feel the defense mechanisms for Ben rising. “You should really mind your own business, you know?”

  “You’re right.” Michael held up his hands. “I’m sorry.”

  Dylan stood to her feet. “I’m going to go find my mom,” she said, before he could stop her. She stepped off the porch and walked across the yard, leaving Michael alone to watch in disappointment as she left.

  Ben tried hard to mask the triumphant satisfaction he felt in watching Dylan leave Michael on the porch by himself. He couldn’t believe the determination in Olerson and, much to his own dismay, he was extremely threatened by his presence in her life.

  Ben felt an ownership over her, which was nothing new but maybe a bit more intense now that he had made love to her. Even when they were younger, he could remember feeling a certain bit of jealousy at even Dylan’s own family. If it were acceptable, he would have urinated in a circle around her, marking his territory like the dog he knew he was. Maybe then he could justify the rage he felt when someone tried to move in on her.

  He wondered if they were being too obvious in dodging each other. Dylan wasn’t much for being around explosives when they were younger, but he couldn’t have imagined her avoiding it the way she was.

  “Are you staying here tonight?” Charlie asked, yanking Ben’s eyes into focus and out of the stare on Dylan that he had maintained through his peripheral vision. “My mom has like ten presents with your name on them under the tree.”

  Ben smirked. “I’ll probably stay, but I have to head home early in the morning for Ruth.” He paused and laughed when he realized, aloud, “Ruth didn�
��t even put up a tree.”

  “Does that surprise you?” Charlie asked with a perplexed tone. “Has she ever?”

  “I guess not. I must have forgotten.”

  Charlie turned to grab Meredith as she passed. He nuzzled his face into her hair and whispered something sweet, Ben assumed. He walked away as if they had never been speaking, wrapped up in his own little world with his wife to-be.

  Ben looked over at Dylan and almost felt pained that he wasn’t allowed that same privilege. He would have given anything to be right next to her in that moment. He would hold her hand and nuzzle his face into her hair, too.

  He stood unaccompanied in the driveway and looked up at the bright show. He didn’t want to speak or check out the girls that had developed into women while he was gone. They couldn’t even compare to Dylan.

  Oh, the man he had become in only twenty-four hours! It was quite a change from the man he had been. It was a gooey feeling, full of sap and wondrous amounts of warm tingles that, sadly, he wished he could bathe in for the rest of his existence.

  He was sure Jonah and Hugh knew something was up, and he wished he could release it into the air with the fireworks so that they all would know. Of course, that would mean a certain death for him shortly after. The Mathews men were known to keep guns in the house.

  The show ended and one by one the crowd fizzled out. They all headed home to continue their own festivities alone. Ben retreated into the Mathews’ home to continue the traditional cookie decorating in the kitchen.

  They sat around the table as Linda set up the frosting and sprinkles in the center. None of them looked excited about their forced custom, but they wore their fake smiles as best as they could to appease Linda and her never ending love for holiday rituals.

  “Now, we each have six cookies to decorate and that will give us forty-eight.” Linda smiled as she dug into the frosting and began to work.

  “Here’s two,” Hugh teased. He set down the circular cookies that were decorated perversely, to no one’s surprise.

  “That’s a nice rack,” Jonah pointed out. “Put those on the naughty list.”

  “No boobs!” Linda scolded. “Take those apart right now.”

  Ben shook his head and laughed, only because he had been the one to do it five years before. He remembered clearly saying that they were Chrissy Turner’s because he had just felt her up in the back yard. Linda smacked his head then, as she smacked Hugh’s now.

  “Why do we always have to have dirty cookies?” Linda asked, mystified. True, she had raised four boys, but she would never understand their perverse nature.

  “Because you have dirty sons, Mom,” Dylan answered as she obediently frosted at the same time. Under one raised brow, she glanced over to Ben, who wagged his own eyebrows for only her to see.

  “I know the one son that isn’t dirty,” Meredith spoke up, pointing to Charlie. “Right, baby?”

  The entire group remained quiet until the uncontrollable snickering began. All, except Meredith and Charlie, erupted into harmonious laughter, almost crying as they howled into the air.

  “Who do you think taught us?” Hugh belted out through his laughter. “It wasn’t her,” he said, pointing to Linda, which caused even more laughter at even the thought.

  “Hey,” Brandon shot, slightly offended by the fact that he was the oldest of the group and not given any credit as a Ladies’ Man.

  “Oh, who are you kidding?” Linda yelled through her giggling at Brandon. “You were never as bad as this one.”

  “What about him?” Charlie asked, and pointed to Ben. “He’s the worst of us all!”

  “Yeah, there’s a long line behind this one, Meredith.” Jonah put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You should be happy you got that one. Charlie’s only slightly offensive compared to this guy.”

  Dylan pursed her lips, but remained quiet while she pinched red sprinkles over her cookie. Ben watched her face as it fell awkwardly. He decided it was time to change the subject quickly. “If we can’t do boobs, can we at least do balls?”

  “No!” Linda hissed back at Ben. “No body parts whatsoever. Only Christmas related cookies.”

  “Here, I’m done with mine,” Dylan said through a giggle. She laid out her six cookies and smiled proudly. In the center of each cookie was a letter. When she put them all together, the five cookies spelled DADDY, and then, as a final touch at the end, a red heart in the center of the sixth cookie.

  The group stared at the cookies and, one by one, all smiled reminiscently as they looked around at each other and remembered their beloved missing member, Carl Mathews.

  It was the same as if he’d never missed a year of it, Ben realized. The only difference was, this time, Dylan’s foot was on his knee under the table, something he couldn’t have imagined allowing to happen before, or more importantly, something he couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed now. He would gladly do it again for all the years to come.

  Dylan’s door opened and closed quickly, which only sent a smile shooting across her face. She flipped in the dark and felt Ben’s gentle hands pull her to him.

  He rubbed his nose against hers, something she could never tire of. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, and kissed her fervidly.

  Dylan sighed into him and thought he couldn’t be more perfect if he had a Christmas bow wrapped around him. “Merry Christmas,” she whispered back.

  She felt his heart beat against her chest and remembered his map that he had given to her only hours before. He pulled her arms above her head and held her hands in place as he kissed her neck and groaned against her skin. She wouldn’t allow herself to wonder if this was too good to be true; it was too good to even care.

  They melted into one another and made love quietly in her bed, something they had never done before, but had so desperately wanted.

  Chapter Eight

  December thirtieth was always the day that Linda wanted her décor and lights taken down from her home. Despite her love for the holidays, and her moody sons’ protests, she wanted her house back to normal immediately due to the fact that she felt entering a new year with old holiday decorations still up was not only tacky, but full of bad luck.

  Jonah stood on the ladder and pulled down each light that hung from the overhang of his mother’s home. Ben stood just below him, carefully wrapping each cord into a neat circle, knowing Linda would make him fix it if the wrap was less than perfect.

  Jonah looked down at Ben. “So, you hate Michael Olerson, right?”

  “I’m not a fan,” Ben confirmed cautiously. “Why?”

  “You don’t like a guy, but you want to go to his bar for New Years Eve?”

  “I like his bar.” Ben looked up at Jonah. “Did you have something else in mind?”

  Jonah shook his head and continued to pull the lights. “No, I guess not.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Ben asked, attempting not to sound like Dylan had anything to do with his plans.

  “No problem.”

  “Good.”

  “My sister is working. Did you know that?” Jonah didn’t look down this time.

  “Oh?” Ben felt his face flash a new shade of red. That color seemed to grace his cheeks more and more in the past few days. He felt alive when his skin lit up at the mention of his Dylan. It was quite repulsive and a tad bit embarrassing, he thought. He loved it.

  “Well, she’ll be happy to hang out with us, I suppose.” Jonah turned to hand Ben more of the strand.

  “Sure.” Ben tried to act nonchalant about her. He couldn’t figure out why he found it so difficult to do something he had only been doing for his entire life.

  Jonah climbed down the ladder and lifted an eyebrow at Ben. “You’ve checked your watch like twenty times in the last half hour.”

  “Yeah?” Ben stopped shaking his impatient leg. “So?”

  “You got somewhere to be?”

  “Uh, I have to help Ruth with some things in a bit,” Ben lied terribly. Dylan would be to his
house soon and he needed to leave.

  “Right,” Jonah replied, shaking his head.

  Jonah didn’t buy his story, though, and Ben knew he’d never call him on it. There was an easy chip in Jonah that made being his friend very smooth. He knew when he was welcome to information and he couldn’t care enough to badger someone when he realized he wasn’t.

  Why couldn’t he tell his best friend that he was with the girl of his dreams? He would look even guiltier for not telling Jonah of his relationship with Dylan. Wouldn’t they find out soon enough? What would be the difference between then and now anyway?

  “Jonah,” Ben began.

  Jonah’s eyes adjusted into Ben’s. “What?”

  Ben stared forward. He thought of how to get this out. He wondered if Dylan would be angry with him if he went on to tell Jonah without her consent. He couldn’t bear that. He lost his words.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Jonah waited. “Are you okay?”

  “Nope,” Ben answered unintentionally.

  Where was his wit, his quick thinking? It was all spiraling down into oblivion with his need to be near Dylan. His façade was failing miserably and Jonah was sure to see right through it soon enough.

  He stuttered, which was even more unlike him and even quite humiliating. “N-nothing. Never mind.”

  “Okay,” Jonah nodded and went back to his work.

  Ben’s discomfort was shattered when Hugh ran around the house and leapt up to the patio beside them. He was out of breath from laughing, howling like a child. He hunched over and held an empty bucket between his knees with a bottle of whipped cream dangling loosely from his free hand.

  Brandon ran around the corner soon after, carrying a large, plastic candy cane from the lawn and looking a bit angry as he searched for Hugh. He was soaked from head to toe and, as a nice addition, was topped off with whipped cream all over his face.

  “That might be the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jonah said.

  Ben laughed. “The giant candy cane may be the best part.”

  They watched in amusement as Brandon chased Hugh all over the yard and tried to catch him for retaliation. He didn’t drop the candy cane, which only added to Ben and Jonah’s entertainment.