Knock, Knock
âYou know better than to go on his property,â Gretchen flipped her baseball cap around, âIt literally reads no trespassing and no soliciting on signs all over this place!â
Layla looked around, âItâs a flyer. What harm can it do for me to hand the man a flyer?â
âHeâs probably got a million shotguns in there. You donât need to get shot today,â Gretchen pointed out, âAnd the signs are a good indication that he doesnât want to be bothered. Ever.â
Layla licked her lips, âBut his mailbox is on his porch. Maybe Iâll just slip it in there.â
âYou know damn well youâre going to knock on that door, âGretchen smiled, âGet a nice, good look at that Lucas--hot as hell-Foster!â
Layla shrugged, âThe worst thing that can happen is he slams the door in my face.â
âOr shoots you.. âGretchen pursed her lips together, âOr takes you in his bedroom and ravishes the ever loving daylights out of you!â
âTake care of my dog!â Layla mused, dramatically--tossing her head back, âAnd you can have all of my vinyls!â
âAll of them?â
âShush...Are you coming with me?â
âHell no!âGretchenâs black braids were frizzing in the humidity, âThis is one Texas girl who is NOT dying today.â
âIf anything happens, youâre my bestie and I love you!â
âYou know heâs so damn fine, though,â Gretchen reminded her, as if trying to talk herself into walking up to his door for a look-see, âLucas Foster might be an asshole, but holy shit balls. Iâd like to have that man every which way possible!â
âI am aware of what he looks like,â Layla smiled, âAnd, for an older dude, heâs got it, but thatâs not why weâre here.â
âHeâs not that much older,âGretchen scoffed, âMaybe 40? A 15 year age difference ainât nothing, sis. Sounds like my parents.â
Layla was suddenly lost in a lustful haze of impure thoughts about Lucas Foster. She was already taken, but it doesnât mean she couldnât fantasize.
âYeah, heâs 39 or 40, but I donât remember,â Layla shook her head, âUghh, stop it! Youâre trying to stall me. Iâm going up there.â She twirled her auburn hair into a huge knot and was struggling to get her finger out of it, âWell shit.â
Gretchen laughed, âHold on.â She helped her friend untangle herself and motioned for her to go, âItâs been nice knowing ya, babe!â
âSo dramatic,â Layla mumbled as she made her way across the street and to the front gate of the large two story house on the corner. It was nice, with a well-manicured yard. The driveway was a bit of a walk and she prayed that Lucas hadnât acquired some sort of lethal guard dog since posting the signs.
âYou can do this. Itâs just Lucas. You sort of know him. Your parents live right down the road. Heâs just a dude. Heâs a maniac. Heâs crazy. What am I doing?â She was talking to herself, struggling in the Texas heat.
Lucasâs house was the last one they were going to hit for the day. Layla and Gretchen were passing out fliers and talking to people who wanted to help the local farmers keep their businesses and farms from being shut down. Surely, Lucas would want that. He wouldnât want all of this beautiful land to be desecrated.
âNo guard dog,â Layla breathed a sigh of relief, noticing Lucasâs truck and his motorcycle parked in the driveway. Even though she said she wasnât going to talk to him, what would be the harm? It was just a little old conversation between two human beings, right?
Ding dong! Knock knock!
âThis is fine. Everything is fine,â Layla held the flier tightly, staring at the mailbox standing right next to her, then looking around the patio, âWhat lovely potted plants.â
âThe fuck do you want?!â
âAhhh!â Layla let go of the fliers, watching them flutter to the ground as the front door came swinging open. She knelt down and began to pick them up, frantically, âIâmâuhâIâm Layla--you know that- and Iâm passing out these fliers to help spread awareness about the local farming industry and itâs also got the time for a scheduled meeting of the city council to helpâhelp the local farmers..and to...â She gathered all of them, standing up on wobbly legs and looked into the eyes of Lucas Foster- certified madman. However,he was not hard on the eyes at all.
Tall, built like a bull, tattoos, a bit bronzed from being out in the sun, dirty blond hair and light stubble dancing across his cheeks and chin and shirtless. Of course, she had to glance quickly at his bare chest, chiseled and sweaty. For half a second, Layla wished she was inside his blue jeans.
âThatâs fucking delightful, but are you illiterate?â He asked, pointing to his signs.
âN-no...âLayla stammered, she pushed the paper out to him, but he didnât budge, âC-can I put this in your mailbox?â
Lucas sighed heavily. He wore no smile and she couldnât read him at all. She was thankful her friend was waiting for her. At least the authorities would know where to look for her body.
Lucas stepped out onto the porch, flush with her because--of course-she was too frightened to move. He loomed over her, so she practically sprained her neck to look up at him.
âIf youâd wanted to put it in my mailbox, why did you knock on my door?â He asked, his green eyes blazing into her dark blues.
Layla shrugged, âWeâve been talking to everyone,-â
âAnnoying the fuck out of everyone, ya mean?â
Layla huffed, âItâs an important issue. Iâd think you of all people wouldnât want a condominium right across the street from your lovely ranch.â Why was she still on that porch and why were her lips moving?
Lucas grinned, a crooked little sinister grin, but he didnât move. She could feel his heat against hers, practically taste the sweat coming off of him. Glancing behind him through the open door, she glimpsed some boxing gloves chucked onto the floor.
âYou box?â She asked him.
âGo. Away.â His smiled faded as he snatched the paper from her hand, âNow.â
And with that, he slammed the door behind him.
Layla had no idea how she made it back down that driveway, but she was still losing her shit when she and Gretchen drove off.
âWell?â
âWell what? Iâm having a heart attack,â Layla heaved.
âWhat does he look like? Smell like? Act like?â
âHot, hot, hot and very angry,â Layla giggled, twirling her hair again, âBut he did take the flier.â
âMission complete!â Gretchen gave her a high five.
âLetâs get ice cream,â Layla offered.
âOh, need to cool down?â Gretchen joked.
âSomething like that.â
Lucas tossed the flier into the garbage and settled down for a nice, cold beer.
âFucking hippies,â He grumbled as he downed the booze, âNice ass, though.â
He thought about Layla and how sheâd had the balls to show up at his front door like thatânot that it was the smartest thing to do, but it was ballsy.
She was a looker, but she was youngâmaybe 24, 25. Not too young, but not his age of 40. He hadnât gotten laid in quite some time and just the thought of her made his dick twitch. She was absolutely breathtaking and smelled so fresh like new linens mixed with expensive floral potpourri.
He knew all about the people trying to take his land and the land of the local farmers around the area. It didnât take a young, college tree-hugging hippie to tell him the news. Heâd seen her plenty of times in his life, always happyâsmiling wearing big dresses and skirts, running around music festivals where he was head of security, watching her paint flowers on the childrenâs facesâprotesting against wars heâd fought in. The fucking audacity.
Of course, some people didnât like him. They knew his past and he had his close friends, but not many in the area. He liked it like that. People didnât need to know his business and they didnât need to keep feeling sorry for him. He couldnât stand that.
âIt was a shame when his wife died,â Gretchen was saying as they ate their ice cream.
âThey never had kids, right?â Layla asked her.
âNot that I know of. I wouldnât mind having his babies, though,â Gretchen giggled, âI wish Iâd gone up to his house now.â
âI could almost taste him, girl,â Layla shook her head, her blue eyes widening, âHeâs scary.â
âYou gotta like those bad boys,â Gretchen nudged her.
âListen, I know Iâm not overly adventurous in my dating life, but Paul and I are doing well.â
Gretchen crinkled her nose. She wasnât a big fan of Paul Gates, but he was Laylaâs boyfriend and Layla was her best friend.
âHeâs a nice guy and we have a lot in common,âLayla told her again.
âLike what? Youâre both in love with the planet? Heâs soâso...Paul...â
Layla frowned. She wasnât the best judge of bad character, but Gretchen was. He wasnât what Layla truly wanted, but itâs what she had so she was contentâwhich is exactly what Gretchen couldnât stand.
âYouâre too comfortable.â
âShould I be uncomfortable?â Layla laughed.
âYou are a free spirit, but you donât push the limits. Letâs go out this weekend.â
âWhere?â She looked at her friendâs little devilish grin, âOh no I am not going clubbing with you.â
âOh come on!!!â Gretchen begged, âJust this one weekend. Please?â
Layla pursed her lips together. She had so much classwork to catch up on and Paul wanted to hang out.
âHow many weekends are you going to give to him? Come out with the girls!â Gretchen pouted.
âFine, fine...â Layla waved her hand, âYou know I love you, but the club thing just isnât my scene.â
Gretchen rolled her eyes, âI know. Sing-a- longs and campfires and protesting injustices are all the rage with youânot to mention your incredibly large collection of rocks.â
âTheyâre my healing crystals, thank you very much.â
âRocks, thatâs what I said,â Gretchen teased, âSo, itâs settled! Weâre going to paint the town, sista.â