by Susan Ward
His laughter melts into a lush smile. It’s distracting and unbidden I remember the feel of his lip. My skin heats.
“If you don’t like it, we can leave,” he assures.
If I don’t like it, will I be able to leave? my hyperbolic inner self retorts. I shake my head; that thought was over the top. Honestly, why am I behaving so foolishly? He’s given me no reason thus far to be wary of him.
Abruptly he takes my hand and I clamber out of the car. There’s a beep behind me as he leads me toward the dock.
There’s an attendant sitting on a stool inside the tall metal gate. He jumps to his feet when he sees EJ and lets us in. “Good evening, sir.”
“Thank you, Bryan. Has it all been arranged?”
My mind whirls. Sir? Bryan? Arranged? How does EJ know someone here and what’s going on?
“Set up and waiting.”
“Thank you.” EJ retakes my hand as he guides me down the slanted walkway.
My eyes run his profile, studying him. “You belong to a yacht club?”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “No, this is my first time here.”
My brows pucker. “But it sounds like you know each other.”
“I know a lot of people in Seattle. Musicians are a tight-knit, eclectic group. A friend of mine arranged dinner for us here tonight. I said I needed something special and he hooked me up. He told me Bryan would be waiting. That if I needed anything I should reach out to him. But I don’t think that’ll be an issue. Everything looks just right.”
He halts, bringing me to a stop beside him. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, his eyes intense, and I can’t tear my gaze from him. “Do you want to board or go somewhere else?”
Board?
I look in the direction EJ is staring. There on the stern deck of an exquisite mid-century wooden yacht is a table set for two surrounded by heating lamps and dozens of candles. I fight the riotous reaction in my body, trying to find my equilibrium.
“You planned this for dinner?” I whisper once my breath has returned.
“I told you. I wanted tonight to be special. Is this all right by you?”
His eyes are luminous as he watches me. My blood is pounding heatedly through my body. I try to drag precious air into my lungs to speak.
“All right? It’s like something out of a movie. Why would you go to all this trouble for me?”
EJ closes the space between us and grabs my face between his hands, forcing me to look up into his ardent, blazing eyes “Because…” His voice breaks off, making my insides scream in protest. Everything in me is alive in anticipation for him to finish.
My mouth slackens and his swoops down, trapping my lips. He’s kissing me passionately, then our bodies are flush up against each other as his tongue slides into my mouth. His low, sexy groan reverberates down my throat, and his hands move down my back to rest on the top of my thighs, digging into my jeans and lifting me up into him.
Desire explodes like a flash fire through my body, and I’m kissing him back, matching his intensity, my fingers buried in his hair. I’m a vat of arousal; it’s pouring from me into him with our kiss, and it hits me—the sensations he stirs in me, I’m stirring the same in him. Blinding passion.
He breaks off, panting. If there’d been something near to catch me other than his body, I’d jerk back from him and collapse against it.
Our faces are very close but we’re no longer looking at each other. I’m pulling in air, trying to steady my pulse, and I wait for him to compose himself.
“Bringing you here might not have been a good move,” he says, overenunciating each word. He pulls away and bends, hands on his knees. “You don’t have any idea what you do to me.”
I gape.
I do to him?
I’m not the one who’s kept him off balance by being all mysteriously romantic, blowing hot and cold, acting charming and tortured, singeing him with blistering hot kisses instead of answering questions.
I lift my nose. “How can I? You make being confusing and mysterious an Olympic event. Instead of making grand gestures, tell me directly what it is you’re trying to do with all these lavish suprises.”
EJ straightens, looking grossly uncomfortable now. His mouth relaxes into a self-deprecating twist. “This is me showing you I have feelings for you. By the expression on your face, I can tell, it’s”—he frowns, grasping for the right word—“coming out wrong. I’m sure it’s confusing for you. It’s confusing for me, too. How you make me feel, it’s intense and difficult to manage.”
I blush—I hadn’t expected him to put it so bluntly. He looks at me and suddenly my emotions are liquid, gushing through my veins, accelerating my flaying thoughts.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, overwhelmed.
His hot gaze burns into me. “Say that I haven’t scared you off. That you’ll stay and have dinner with me.”
Our eyes lock, and in that moment I’m paralyzed, staring at an unbelievably handsome man who gazes at me with a longing that should terrify me.
“This isn’t about getting you into bed, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he murmurs, his voice mostly air. “I was hoping to get to know you better, nothing else, and wanted somewhere with no one interrupting that.”
Again, his ardent openness levels me. Where the devil did this man come from? I’ve never known a guy who speaks from the heart as easily as EJ does. It’s new, frightening, hot, and my thoughts are a jumble as I study him.
Sweet mother of Jesus…this beautiful man went to lengths unimaginable…because he…wants to get…to know…me.
All this—my gaze sweeps the harbor—to have dinner with me. My apprehension and indecision wane.
My gaze moves from the waiting table to EJ. I can only hold his eyes a few seconds.
Focusing on the dock beneath me, I step forward, place my hand on the rail, and—for the first time in my life—board a yacht.
Chapter Fifteen
Willow
I WAIT NERVOUSLY BESIDE the table as EJ pulls out a chair for me.
“I think you’ll prefer having a view of the harbor,” he says, and as I sink down in front of him his fingers give me a gentle squeeze on the shoulders I feel all the way to my toes. “Why don’t you have some wine while I go in the galley and grab our first course?”
Galley?
First course?
Oh, Willow, what have you gotten yourself into? I never expected agreeing to have dinner with a homeless man would drag me out of my comfort zone this way. I feel totally unprepared for EJ, like a fish out of water. I’m sure he’s only trying to impress me—or maybe sweep me off my feet—and it’s darn near working.
“Wine now or would you rather wait for the main course?” he repeats.
I lift my gaze to him. “Depends.”
“On what?”
“If your plan is to get me drunk.”
He grins, doing an adorable show of looking innocent. “This is a very good Chianti. It used to be one of my favorites. It complements Venetian cuisine to perfection.”
I blush—I hadn’t thought of that. “Well, since your intentions are only good, pour away.”
“I didn’t say that they were only good.”
My gaze shoots back to his, and his blue eyes are gleaming. He’s only teasing. Watching my glass slowly fill with deep red liquid, I pucker my lips to hold back bubbles of laughter.
As the bottle’s returned to the table, I ask, “You’re not having any?”
He gazes at me impassively. “Sparkling water only. Three hundred fifty-eight days of sobriety. Remember?”
My face heats; I forgot he’s in recovery. “You know what? I’m not much of a drinker, which is strange since I own a bar, but it’d be fine by me if we got rid of the wine.”
“It’s all right to drink around me, Willow. It’s not a problem,” he says, his eyes softening. He runs his hand through his hair, and
he’s serious again. “Once you have your priorities in order, most things that used to give you trouble aren’t problems anymore. I know what I want in life and nothing is ever going to knock me on the wrong road again.”
His candor is disarming and makes him more enticing. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, suddenly feeling stupid. It seems I can’t even manage light dinner conversation with a man any longer. I’m like a bull in a china shop with EJ.
“Don’t be. If you’ve got questions about anything I’d rather you asked them of me and I give you the straight answer, than risk having you think the wrong thing about me. Promise to ask anything you want to know, OK?”
I’m winded by his admission and request. He looks so vulnerable as he waits for my response. “If that’s how you want it, that’s how it’ll be.”
“Good.” He exhales as he murmurs the word. “Now let me get you something to start on.”
He retreats inside the boat and my heart contracts. I reach for my wine and stare out at the lights dotting the water and bright from across the bay.
I know I’m hungry, but right now my stomach is tangled up to the point I can’t feel it. Nothing with EJ goes as I expect it and I wonder why I’m here with him. I’m with a man who is fascinating and gentle, but anything more than a few casual dates doesn’t seem possible. He’s got serious baggage. I’ve got serious baggage. Together it’d be too much for any couple to manage.
“I hope you have an appetite.”
His voice snaps me out of my consternation right as he places my plate in front of me, and my gaze follows him settling in the chair across the table. His hands move gracefully as he spreads a napkin on his lap and reaches for his fork.
“If you don’t dig in, you’re going to hurt my feelings,” he quips, breaking my trance. Taking my fork, I glance down at my plate.
Holy hell.
Food.
But not like any I’ve ever seen before. And the aroma; so delicious.
“Venetian, huh? I thought we were having Italian.”
He laughs. “It is Italian. But from the region of Veneto. Very different than you’d have in, say, Rome or Sicily.”
I quirk my brow so as not to let him know how easily he charms me with stuff like that. But heck, he does, even when I’ve no knowledge base if these incredible things he says are true or pure rubbish.
I go to work with my fork on something. “Good. I’ve never been partial to food from Rome or Sicily.” I’m hoping that came out even slightly charming and humorous. I’m relieved when he laughs.
“There, we’ve finally found one thing we have in common,” he says, looking up from his plate to smile at me.
“No, that’s not the first. There’s more,” I retort, doing my damnedest not to make a mess of what I think is my entrée while trying to get it on my utensil.
EJ pauses and looks enchanted by me. “Such as?”
I lift my nose. Not telling.
His head tilts. Waiting.
I roll my eyes, dodging the first thought to my head—I haven’t been the same since he came into my life—and opting for one much safer. “We’re both rusty at dating.”
I shove my fork into my mouth.
My eyes go wide.
It’s mouthwateringly good.
Light. The texture has an almost delicate feel, and the flavors…I study my food in amazement. “Is this lasagna? It tastes like it, but it doesn’t look like it.”
He chokes back a laugh. “I’m hoping that means you like it. I wasn’t sure with how you were staring at your plate.”
My brows hitch up. “Don’t you know anything about women? I stared because you arranged it so pretty on the plate. How did you know I like lasagna?”
“Ivy told me it was your favorite.”
Ivy? That news bulletin lands like a kick in my gut. Exactly when did EJ and Ivy start exchanging 411 about me? The thought is unsettling.
We finish our dinner in silence, with EJ serving me. For some reason the courses come backward with the salad at the end.
EJ clears the table and returns with small cups of espresso for us. His long fingers curl around his cup, but his eyes are on me. Longing and apprehension combine in one smoldering look. I’m sure he’s wondering why I’ve been so quiet.
He knows something’s troubling me.
I need to let it go.
He doesn’t know he stumbled onto a hot button of mine earlier—Jade and Ivy spewing their gospel on Willow behind my back—and I hate that this old petty insecurity is ruining the amazing evening he’s given me.
I’m twenty-seven years old.
Isn’t it time to stop being bugged by junk from my childhood? Apparently not. I am bugged.
I try for some normal conversation, but my mouth circles back on its own to what’s bothering me. “How long have you and Ivy been good friends?”
EJ pauses, his cup halfway to his mouth. “Good friends? I wouldn’t say that. For the last two months, she’s been my sponsor. But we’ve become friends.”
Sponsor? Holy shit, how could Ivy not tell me this? I know that what happens in a meeting stays in a meeting, but this is different.
I know it’s not fair to be irked with her, but I am. It immediately makes sense why my bestie who’s suspicious of all men has been pushing me toward EJ. Somehow he’s won her over, enough so that she approves of him for me and has given him a pass on his deficits.
“I’m sure being your sponsor makes it unavoidable for you two to get close.” I reach for my coffee. “You seem like good friends to me. Enough that you don’t only talk about your issue with her, you have time to gossip about me.” Yuck, I’m fishing and pouty, and I loathe that I just did that.
He smiles, amused. “It’s not like that.”
“That’s exactly how it sounds to me. You might as well tell me everything now. What else has Ivy told you about me? Why I got divorced? That my husband cheated on me? Or did she stick to the jerks I used to date?”
He shrugs. “Nothing I didn’t already know.”
“Such as?” I don’t like that he’s evading the question.
His gaze shoots to mine, causing my heart to jump. “That you’re the best person she’s ever known. She wanted to make sure I understood her point of view about me trying to get something going with you.”
Oh no, she didn’t. That’s a blast of humiliaton. My face burns. I wait for him to continue, and he sighs. I wonder what my expression holds that makes his eyes turn gentle.
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed by this, Willow. That woman’s a straight shooter and the kind of loyal friend anyone would be lucky to have. She told me that if I couldn’t be the best man you’ve ever had in your life, then she didn’t want me getting involved with you and that I should walk away. That’s all. She’s a very good friend.”
Oh God, she didn’t. I search his face, trying to read his small enigmatic smile, and I can tell he’s told the truth.
I’m mortified, because I still can’t shut down the suspicion that she’s told him about my gory, failed love life and that’s why he’s being so extravagant and gentlemanly.
“Did she tell you about my history with men? That it hasn’t been good? Is that why you make our dates such incredible things for me?”
“No. I do it because you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.” His hand slips over mine and the contact resonates through my body. When he continues, his voice is quiet and webbed with emotion. “I knew someone a long time ago. I loved her more than I’ve ever loved anyone. She was everything I wanted. The kind of girl who inspires a man to be a better man. The kind of girl who makes you imagine all the wonderful ways you’re going to treat her and the wonderful life you could have together. Only, for all the plans in my head of the things I dreamed of doing for her, the things I wanted to share with her, I never did any of them. I’ve always wondered if I’d treated her the way she deserved maybe I wouldn’t have lost her. And I decided i
f I ever ran across a woman who made me feel the way she did, I wouldn’t make the same mistake. I’d give her everything I was capable of from the start. And then I found you, the kind of woman a man wants to give the world to, only this time I’m doing it.”
I breathe in, but emotion is eating up the oxygen before it gets to my lungs.
Oh, EJ.
I’ve never known a man before who could drop me more quickly into have to kiss him moments. Not even he whose name I shall not let enter my head tonight.
It feels like I’m floating as I rise from my chair and move to stand beside his. He leans into me, his arm slipping around my thighs, and I cup his chin, tilting back his head. “You are without a doubt the most baffling man I’ve ever met,” I whisper.
He smiles. “And here I was shooting for clarity.”
A small laugh escapes my mouth as my insides shimmy. “I didn’t say your words were confusing. I said you baffle me.”
Those mesmerizing blue eyes trap my gaze. “It’s funny. You make everything clear for me.”
I can resist him no longer. I press my lips against his neck, breathing in his scent, and I’m pulled down to his lap, wrapped in his arms, and he’s kissing me.
I snuggle into his chest as his mouth devours me and his fingers gently stroke my back. He’s so tantalizing, intoxicating. I’m lost in him and desperate to go deeper into where it is we’re heading with this.
“Please,” I whisper as his lips spray kisses along my neck. I’m melting inside, unfurling.
“Please what?” The movement of his lips tickles my overalert cells.
My fingers sink into his arms. “There’s a cabin below, isn’t there?” Easing back, he looks at me, eyes blazing, and I’m emboldened by how he stares at me. “I want to spend the night with you, EJ. Here. Anywhere. I don’t care.”
His eyes are wide, alarmed. My stomach drops because how he’s running his hand through his hair warns I’m not going to like this. “There’s nothing I want more than to make love to you, but it’s better if we take things slow. Better for me. Better for you. Better for us. And there’s going to be an us, baby. Don’t doubt it.”
