Safer Alone (The Safer Duet #1)

by Amy Rose

  He stays quiet, and I worry even more so that I have crossed some sort of invisible line between us. He is still holding my hand, which has to be a good sign. Doesn’t it?

  “Yes. I do want children. I love my niece and nephew. I enjoy spending time with them. One day, once I’m married to my soul mate, I would like to have one. Possibly more.” It is such a powerful and honest statement from Elliot. It really hits home for me.

  He is expressing the same feelings that I have inside my heart. I had never wanted children with Dylan, not even considered it once. Even when we were super happy. And yet, here I sit after having a daydream today about having a family with this man sitting beside me. Someone who I have known for such an incredibly short amount of time.

  It has to be the strong physical attraction between us. The way he makes me feel. I know that I am smiling. I can’t help it. His confession makes me so unbelievably happy. But I have to admit that deep down, it also makes me nervous.

  ~ Chapter Twenty-Five ~

  The car ride is relaxing, even with having just had a conversation about kids. I find myself completely comfortable with this man, whether we are sitting beside each other in silence or filling the car with laughter and conversation.

  Elliot points out the town hall. A beautiful historic building that was constructed in 1905. It’s evident that is has been built entirely in the Masonry style. It is made up of a three story vertical cube building, rusticated at the first story, and then topped with a clock tower, which was constructed many years later. It no longer serves as the town hall though, instead being used as a senior center. We drive past a couple of beaches. He calls out the names. Byram Beach; which also houses the only public pool in town. Island Beach; which was formerly known as Little Captain Island, opposed to Great Captain Island which has somehow been able to keep its name. He also points out where a couple of other famous people live in town. He spits out several names that I don’t know. I look closely at the houses of the homes of the people I do recognize. Ron Howard, you know, the guy who was in Happy Days. Adam Sandler’s mansion from when he lived in town. Judge Judy. I crack myself up at some of the cases that go through her courtroom. When we pull back into the Elliot’s own driveway, I compare his home to some of the others I have just seen. In my opinion, his is the nicest one here, and closest to my own taste.

  We hop out of the car and make our way back into the main house. I wonder what we will be getting up to for the rest of the day while wandering through the great hall. That is, until we get to the kitchen. I immediately notice on the counter there is a wicker picnic basket and a large tartan blanket, perfectly folded. I turn to look at Elliot who shrugs, as though he didn’t plan this at all. I think it is incredibly romantic. What could be better than staying home, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. He picks up the items and we walk together outside, stepping into his expansive backyard.

  “Will you walk with me?” he asks, simply. I nod, happy to be spending time with him. He takes my hand in his free one and we meander around the property for ten minutes or so, until we locate a lovely spot under a chestnut tree. He throws open the blanket, allowing it to flap in the light breeze, letting it float down onto the ground. I step toward the opposite side of the blanket and pull out the corners. It’s large enough to be a king bed sheet. Once the blanket is in place, Elliot places the picnic basket on the ground. Then we both sit down.

  As Elliot opens the basket he retrieves a bottle of sparkling water and two wine glasses along with a cheese platter and a fruit salad that Andrew had no doubt prepared for us earlier. Proving that Elliot had somehow prearranged this. He pours some liquid into both of our glasses and returns the bottle to the basket after ensuring the lid is screwed on tight.

  “Andrew sure knows how to put together a good picnic basket” I say, collecting a strawberry and biting into it, the juice trickling down my throat, so tasty.

  “I’m offended. You don’t think I did this for us?” I raise my eyebrows in his direction, implying my thoughts without voicing them. He breaks first.

  “Okay. He prepared it, but I suggested it.”

  I give him a large smile. “It was a great idea. Thank you.”

  “I come out here a bit actually. I lay under this tree and just think about work, about life, about everything, really.” He is looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I know that he has the power to completely undo me with just a look.

  I take a sip of water to give myself some time to respond. “It’s a lovely spot.” He still hasn’t taken his eyes off me.

  “It’s relaxing, Angela. I leave my phone inside and just lie here. It’s nice to not have any distractions.” I ponder this statement for a moment. Is he saying that I am a distraction?

  “Would you like to be alone now?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t say yes.

  “No, no,” he starts, grabbing my free hand with his. “I’ve always wanted to be able to share this spot with someone. Having you here with me is nice.” It is like he was simply stating a fact.

  Elliot is giving me so much to think about that it is starting to make me feel dizzy. I decide the best course of action is to change topics. “So, what does someone usually buy for you for Christmas?” He looks surprised at my question.

  “Having you here with me, Angela, will be a gift in itself.” He pauses. I see his Adam’s apple bob. “I’ve never celebrated Christmas with a girlfriend before” Once again I can’t believe my ears. He had told me last night that he had only had one girlfriend and that didn’t work out because she had cheated on him. But they had been together for years. So surely they had spent Christmas together. And then I had to think about the other surprising thing he just said. He called me his girlfriend.

  “You were with your ex-girlfriend for a while, though. Surely you spent time together over the Christmas season.” I pressed for further information.

  “Yes. We would often see each other during the Christmas season. But for me, Christmas Day is for family,” he said, as a way of a response. That doesn’t make sense. If it’s for family, then why am I invited?

  “Then why invite me? I’m not family,” I simply respond. His face falls a little. I have hurt his feelings. In that moment I regret my directness. Maybe I needed to backtrack and make it all better. “I don’t mean to offend you, Elliot. Not at all. I’m just trying to see your way of thinking. You just told me that your ex-girlfriend wasn’t invited to Christmas dinner because she wasn’t family. And you were together for years. Yet, you invite me to spend a sacred holiday with you and your family and we have only known each other a couple of weeks.” I soften my voice with my apology, hoping that this will help with my request for further information.

  “I never invited Yvette to my family dinners for one reason. Deep down I knew we weren’t going to last. And yet with you, I see you in my future, Angela. I never saw her that way. I am glad you will be coming for Christmas. I want to introduce you to my family.” He pauses, he isn’t finished, I can tell. He is looking at me, his face flushed with an emotion I haven’t seen before on him. I know it well in myself though, he is embarrassed. “As I sincerely hope that one day they will become your family, too, Angie.

  I can tell he is speaking the truth, the way he sees it. If I am being completely honest with myself, then I need to admit that hearing this scares me a little. I mean, really, how could he possibly know after such a short amount of time spent together that he wanted me to be a part of his family. He hasn’t seen my dark side. He hasn’t experienced those days where I hate myself. He doesn’t know the real me, or about my past. I can’t do this. Can I?

  He has been so forthcoming with information about himself over the past couple of days, more so than I could ever have imagined. I wonder if at all possible, what he had just told me could be true? Surely a man as successful as Elliot wanted something more than I can offer him. I have to say something. His eyes are looking at me expectantly. He is waiting for some sort of reply. I don’t know w
hat to say. How does one respond to that?

  “That’s a little scary,” I reply. Taking another sip of my water.

  “Why is it scary, Angela?” he asks. “We are both adults here, I’m thirty-six and you are almost thirty. It’s not like we are teenagers discussing this with no life experience behind us.” he says. I knew that was coming. I mean why would I make an open-ended statement like that, leaving it wide open for a question. I figure, now is as good a time as any, I might as well rip the band-aid off. We have been enjoying ourselves for sure, but if we are just deluding ourselves, best we get back to reality now. Here comes Angela, Captain of the Obvious Train.

  “Okay. Here’s the thing, Elliot. Maybe it’s escaped your notice but I live in Nashville, and you live here in Greenwich. Seeing each other on a regular basis is going to be near impossible. You have an empire to run, and no doubt more international travel for work purposes. I am a regular real estate agent. I live in a small one-bedroom apartment that I am still paying off. You have all of this.” I free my hand from his and wave my arm around at his magnificent property. “You have money. And finally, you’re astonishingly handsome and I’m just a plain Jane.” I finish my speech. Draining the last of the water from my cup. That was good, I stuck to the truth.

  I start to stand up. He takes a hold of my hand again, stopping me in my tracks. “Why are you looking at all of the negatives, Angela? I’m so happy spending time with you and I think you’re enjoying the time with me too. It sounds as though you’re not even willing to try.” He is looking into my eyes, but I feel as though he is looking directly into my soul. He places down his drink on the blanket, letting go of my hand and takes my face in between his hands. “And don’t you ever, for even a second, believe you are anything short of beautiful. Because you are gorgeous, Angela.”

  He had one point. I did enjoy spending time with him. I wasn’t going to admit that I was beautiful, though. I’m not conceding with him on that point, not at all. “I do enjoy spending time with you, Elliot, and I do want to try. I just can’t see how we can make it work.” I hear my voice crack on that last word.

  “If we care enough about each other, it will work. We are both adults. All you have to do is try, Angela. I’ll fly to Nashville and I’ll pay for you to fly here. If not I’ll send my private jet, if need be. I can take time away from the office and work remotely. I want to give this a go.” He means it. I can hear it in his voice. He is willing me to believe it too. He leans in and kisses me on the mouth. A gentle kiss that I can tell he wants to deepen but he holds back. I kiss him too. I know he is doing this so we could both feel how good this is. When we touch, an electric current moves over my skin. Do I affect him the same way?

  When we finally break apart, I whisper my response. “I’ll try Elliot.” And it’s true. I have never felt about a man the way I feel about Elliot Sands. I had only a few hours earlier had a wonderful daydream about a future with him. I will give it a month. I will see him a few times over the next four weeks with Christmas functions and some time off work. Maybe, just maybe we can make it work?

  “You didn’t tell me what you want for Christmas? Do you like music?” This is hopefully a safe topic. He smiles, also glad to be away from the serious conversation we’ve just had.

  “I do enjoy music, basically every type, apart from death metal. That is terrible” He adds, almost as an afterthought.

  I can’t help but laugh. Death metal is horrible music in my opinion, too. Normally just a whole heap of screaming, almost unintelligible, accompanied by loud thumping music.

  “Me too. Since moving to Nashville. I have found my love of country music has grown. I have even seen one of my favorite artists live in concert, in June this year.” I am remembering watching Rascal Flatts performing at the country music festival. I have loved them way before I moved to Nashville. Listening to their first album back when I was still in high school. I’m not going to tell Elliot that James had gone with me, also being a huge fan of the band. Not with Elliot’s tendency to get jealous at the mention of another man spending time with me.

  “I’ve been to a couple of concerts myself. An orchestra symphony in Italy was probably the standout memory for me.” I can tell that he is remembering it in his mind, as his eyes are slightly glazed over. A memory that he must hold dearly. Trust him to compare my local Nashville concert to a symphony orchestra in Italy. The ticket must have cost him several thousand Euros. It makes me think of my mother for a moment, as she absolutely loves the opera and any performances that are of that type.

  “Okay then. Music. That’s a good idea for me to look at for you, then” I am more than likely going to compile a playlist of my own and pop that onto a CD for him. That way he can listen to it when I’m not around and hopefully encourage him to think of me.

  He reaches over to brush a loose strand of my hair away from my shoulder, and in doing so lifts my necklace in between his fingers. “Was this a gift from someone special?” he asks.

  I look down and see that I am wearing my small gold heart pendant from my parents. I smile. “Yes, it is actually. My parents gifted it to me for my twenty-first birthday.”

  He smiles too and releases it. “It’s lovely.”

  I pluck a piece of cheese between my fingers and place it on top of a biscuit, before popping it into my mouth. It had quite a bite to it. It must be an old cheese. Something aged by quite a few years. I enjoyed the taste. I then pull a grape free from the bunch and pop it into my mouth. When I bite into it, juice flows freely into my mouth.

  I notice that Elliot has not eaten anything during our time outside. I place a piece of cheese onto a biscuit like I had eaten a moment ago, and lift it to the edge of his lips, willing him to open his mouth for me. He does and I place it inside whole. I can see him chew and swallow, smiling once he has finished. “Delicious.”

  We refill our glasses and sip on our water while nibbling at our platter for another hour or so. We speak freely about a few of our preferred things. I learn that besides roast lamb he also enjoys a good spaghetti marinara. He thinks that he eats way too much chocolate, and he loves to travel

  I agree wholeheartedly with the chocolate addiction. Adding that I enjoy spaghetti myself and that I haven’t traveled much at all, only inside of our great nation, America.

  “Do you have a passport?” he asks.

  I shake my head, indicating that I don’t.

  “You should get one. I travel overseas for business several times a year. Maybe you can arrange to have some time off during one of my trips and we can make it a holiday too, so it’s not just all work and no play?” he suggests.

  I nod in response. “Sounds great.”

  I wonder where he ventures to on his business trips. He told me that he had been to Australia before and he was in London only this week. If he was going to older countries then surely the remainder of the United Kingdom was in the cards and possibly even France. I had always wanted to go to England and Scotland. Walk around the castles, along the corridors where famous kings and queens had walked centuries ago. There is just so much history; those countries are thousands of years old.

  Once we have finished our picnic, we pack it away and start to wander back toward the house. It is a relatively warm day for December. As we pass the pool, I imagine swimming with Elliot in the warmer months. Here I was, thinking about next time. I clearly am in over my head. My feelings already too well developed. I am thinking about a future with Elliot.

  As we enter the home, I glance quickly at my watch, it is 3:50 pm and that means we only have this afternoon and evening together before I head home tomorrow. It makes my heart ache slightly. It also reminds me that I should ask about my flight tomorrow.

  “Ah, Elliot. What time is my flight tomorrow?”

  He looks up at me. “Ready to leave already, are you?” He is smiling so I know he is teasing me. But I instantly speak in reply.

  “No, I’m not ready to leave.”

  He laughs softly
. “I have you on the midday flight. So we will head for the airport at 10:00 to give you plenty of time to board”. That would work. I could grab James his postcard while I was waiting.

  “Okay. I’ll be ready.” I wander over to him and wrap my arms around his muscular waist, sitting just above his hips. I look up towards his beautiful face. “That’s enough talk about tomorrow. What are we going to do this evening?”

  A beautiful smile shows his perfectly white, straight teeth. He wraps his arms around my neck and kisses me. He pulls his mouth slightly back and whispers. “I can think of a few things” and he then kisses me again. Those tingles make their appearance, running the length of my body. Making their way to the pit of my stomach and then lower to the apex of my thighs. It ends too soon, as it always does. It is definitely safer that way, as with Elliot, lines are blurred and I have feelings that I haven’t experienced before.

  “What would you like to do?” He asks. I know what I wanted to do. I wanted to take him to bed and ravish him. Taking off our clothes so I could rub my hands all over his hot skin, possibly kiss his pectoral muscles, discover what color his chest hair was. And that, ladies and gentleman, would be my hormones talking. This isn’t like me at all. I push those thoughts deep down where they are safe. That will not be on the agenda this afternoon, Angela.

  “Ummm. We will need to eat dinner at some stage,” I state.

  “Yes, we will definitely need to eat” His cell phone then rings, interrupting both of our trains of thought. He kisses me quickly on the mouth and then answers his phone.

  “Elliot Sands” he smiles at me. I make an attempt to leave him be. Give him some privacy. However he doesn’t release me, holding me close to him. I rest my cheek against his chest, where I hear the steady beat of his heart. Thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump. “Hey Dad…Not much. Angela and I are heading out to dinner tonight, so maybe tomorrow afternoon? Okay, see you then. Bye, Dad”