homecoming » bucky barnes AU

chapter fourteen

The following day, despite any of Laecie's questions, she and James had been invited by her father to dinner at the country club alongside her fathers friend, Jack. Jack was irrevocably wealthy and it was his birthday, so he took some of his friends to the country club, which was graciously nestled in the hills, for a meal.

Laecie had attempted to ignore the situation that had arisen on the boat, imagining that she hadn't even heard of the two boys 'allegedly' fighting over a girl. She questioned James only slightly upon his return from below deck, but was met with rather innocent answers, such as; 'what are you talking about?' or 'nothing even happened.'

Either way, she didn't feel the need in that very moment to linger on it. Perhaps, she thought, it was due to her drunk, blurry vision, or, even the unmistakably distracting, appealing smell of cologne which wafted from James' neck as he put his face closer to hers to speak with her.

She had spent the night at James' once more, though, they were much too drunk to have sex that night. They seemed to flop into bed and without words slip into an exhausted sleep. James had snored that night and Laecie took the liberty of wiping drool from his very stubbly chin before falling asleep herself. She admittedly lay awake a bit longer than him, pondering the conversation possibly had between James and Steve earlier that night. She overthought a bit.

But, today was a new day, and James had been gone as she woke up. She imagined his sweaty chest as he heaved and pulled the lawnmower over the grass, or roughly clipped at the bushes with the rusty shears that hung, usually unused, in the shed at the top of the patio.

She had called her home phone from his house, George allowing her kindly to use the house phone before he left for another job.

"My dad invited us to the country club on the hills later for dinner."
She said curiously.
"Okay.. what do I need to wear?"
James replied, happy to just go along with whatever she wanted.
"Something nice, but not too over the top."
She said.
"Just, like, business casual."
"Bitchin'"
James replied sarcastically.

George had drove Laecie home despite her protests to walk. She was grateful, though, as she avoided buckets of sweat from walking up the hill to her home.

She was in her en suite, tapping makeup on her face, applying an adequate amount of blush up her cheekbones to finish off her face. She was wearing a black mock-silk polyester formal dress in the same shape as a tennis dress which she usually saved in her wardrobe for attending the country club. She paired this with some black platform shoes she'd seen some goths wear back home. She asked nicely where they were from, and if the group liked The Cure, to which they responded happily. She would only go for posh dinners or to play tennis with Natasha, Steve and Sam in this outfit, so she didn't give much more thought to her attire.

At around 7, James had appeared at the bathroom doorway, allowed in by Mark. He admired Laecie tousling her wavy hair, examining her face scrutinisingly. He had startled her when she looked up.

"Jesus!"
She said, shaken but still, her voice not loud. He simply smiled at her in return, striding toward her and grabbing her waist in order to place a lazy, chaste kiss on her cheek.

They looked in the mirror together, swaying slightly. James was made up in a plain white shirt, a long black tie which hung loose over his chest and some plain black slacks. His hair was scooped back like usual, a few loose chestnut strands falling over his brow. Under, though, he wore his battered converse. Laecie smiled at this, because James wasn't one for extra formality and she guessed his brown shoes were his only dress shoes, which absolutely would not go well with his get up. His exposed chest showed his silver dog tags which he had received from his fathers time in the war.