Anything She Wants

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Anything She Wants Page 4

by Samantha Lucas


  “Yeah” It was stupid, but that he knew the song caused her eyes to fill with watery emotion. She continued on quickly before she got lost in this wonderful moment.

  “Most of all, I loved that for that one moment in time, she got to show everybody who she really was, no crazy schemes, no wild stories. Just her, dancing with Van Johnson and she was good! It was a moment in perfection,” she flopped against the backrest, staring at the straw wrapper she was twirling around her finger. “And really there are so few of those.”

  She swallowed more of the alcoholic concoction before her and blinked back tears that she had was losing her battle against. Truthfully, she’d never felt more vulnerable in her life as she did right then and if he laughed at her, she didn’t know how she’d recover. Finally she gathered enough courage to look at him. Gingerly sucking in her injured lip, she raised her eyes until they met his, terrified of what she might see in them. Maybe he was a gentleman and he wouldn’t laugh outright, but she bet his eyes were dancing with mockery.

  What she saw made the tears roll down her cheeks, for instead of ridicule, she saw acceptance, understanding—even a little awe.

  This was the moment her soul had waited for her entire life. Someone else seemed to understand her, or at the very least accept her for who she was. She didn’t think he thought her crazy as she knew most would. Analyzing a sitcom to such great depths was not something a normal person did. She couldn’t help it though, she analyzed everything. It seemed to come naturally for her, she always saw deeper meanings everywhere she looked, but had never been able to share it with anyone without them laughing at her.

  Until now.

  Until him.

  He sat with his back straight against the hard wood of the booth.

  “People don't take you seriously, do they Miss Thornhill?”

  “I thought you were going to call me Keely.”

  He stared into her eyes for quite some time; somehow she was able to hold her eyes steady and not look away. When he answered, his voice was soft and full of wonder.

  “Somehow I don't feel worthy at the moment.”

  There was no way to hold back the rush of warm tears that flowed down her cheeks at that moment. She didn’t think there had been another moment in her life when she felt so...acceptable. Not just that he accepted her, but that maybe she wasn’t the freak everyone had always made her out to be, that maybe, well, normal was probably a stretch, but that she was okay just as she was.

  She brushed the wetness from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It’s been an emotional day. I’m really not one of those weepy sorts who cry at everything.”

  In all honesty, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried before today. She had wanted to the day she’d learned of her sister’s pregnancy, but she hadn’t allowed her own self pity to take away from her sister’s joyous news. So sitting there now, with a stuffed parrot hanging over her head, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt anything enough to even want to cry.

  She’d worried over the years that she was becoming little more than a shell. At least right now, she felt some relief from that worry. She still had a heart, and someone had cared enough to reach for it.

  “Don't tell anyone I said so—” he rested his elbow on the table and leaned over it as if to divulge great secrets to her. “—but I sort of enjoy being around a crying woman. Tears are something I can usually handle, doesn’t leave me feeling useless the way most other things about women do.”

  “Like what?”

  She carefully placed her wall back up and hid the tears behind it. Wiping the last of the evidence from her cheeks as she awaited his answer.

  “Well, most women I find don't…” he looked decidedly uncomfortable as he drew in a deep breath. “…never mind.” He finished what was left in his glass and smiled at her. “Three’s my limit, but you can feel free.”

  While he stared at and twirled the last drop of beer in his glass, she watched him, trying to decide whether or not to push his “never mind”. She hated to break the magic spell that seemed to be dancing around them, and she didn’t want to make him mad, but more she had a desire to find out if she could see his heart. The way he’d been able to see hers.

  “Please tell me.”

  Her gaze fluttered away as she poked the straw at the crushed ice in her drink.

  He laughed without humor.

  “You may not like me anymore if I tell you.”

  She gave him the best smile she could without pain. “How do you know I like you now?”

  This bark of laughter held unabashed humor and she was so glad to hear it.

  “Touché, Miss Thornhill.”

  He reached across and took her hand. Although it wasn’t difficult as she found herself reaching for his hand at the same moment.

  “Most women of my acquaintance consider me antiquated, and that would be putting it nicely. I try very hard to respect their power, their rights, but I hate the way most refuse to need a man. I want to be needed, Miss Thornhill. As I also need.” He released her hand and slouched back in the booth raising his hand to signal the waitress. “Maybe four will be my limit, tonight.”

  Keely sat very still, very quiet as she contemplated his words. She knew what it was to be dominated by a powerful man, and though she saw that aspect of Nick’s personality, she couldn’t see him ever taking without giving in return, or needing so much that nothing would be left of the person who met those needs. What he asked for was what everybody wanted. Love. Acceptance. She licked her lips, the salt that had been trapped on her tongue burning her cut, she ignored it.

  “I need.”

  She swallowed hard, not sure what she thought she was doing, but when his blue eyes looked at her, hope had ignited in them and it embolden her to continue.

  “I’ve always wanted to blend into another person so much that I couldn’t tell anymore where I stopped or started. I always thought a partnership between a man and a woman should not be equal per sé, but all encompassing. I don’t want to have to hold up a fifty percent share all the time. I’m willing to hold up all of it for a time if I’m needed to, so long as I can put mine down sometimes as well. I want someone to need me as much as I need them. I want to know that when I come home bruised and beaten, loving arms await me. I don't want to have to be strong all the time.”

  She felt pained. Explaining herself had never come easy.

  “Does that make any sense? I mean that...”

  “Each person should give as much as they are able. No limits. Helping the other stand when they are too weak and beaten down from life. A shelter from the raging winds and torrents life throws. Comfort and acceptance, love and understanding, caring and giving, should all be to the depths of your soul regardless if you are the man or the woman. I would give everything I am to my wife.”

  Keely choked back tears and wobbly stood from the booth.

  “I have to go. I can’t be here with you. I’m not married, but I’m not available, either, and to stay another moment—” she stumbled as her thigh met the edge of the table. She pushed her hair back from her face. “—would just be cruel, to both of us. It has been a pleasure, Nick.” She leaned forward and softly touched her battered lips to his. Then before standing, whispered, “An extreme pleasure.”

  • • •

  Nick watched as she wobbled to the bar and asked to use the phone, not sure what happened, but sure he wasn’t going to let her simply walk away. He threw a tip on the table and came up behind her, effectively pinning her between himself and the bar, her back to his chest.

  “Don’t go. At least tell me why.”

  Her soft scent engulfed him as he watched his breath whisper through her hair. He was fighting the overwhelming urge to hold her tonight, all night. He’d had trouble breathing at times over the course of the evening and he couldn’t remember a time when he felt that way about anyone, not even Angie. What had she meant? Taken. How permanently taken could she be with no ring and no vows?
>
  Tonight, she’d mesmerized him. He knew from watching her at the Nature Company that there was far more to her than met the eye, but then, he’d really always known that. The woman came in an incredibly seductive package, but she was still waters that ran deceptively deep and he desired to know everything about her.

  He ran his fingers up her bare arms and laughed when it gave him goose bumps. When she talked about her favorite episode tonight he couldn’t help imagining a lifetime of talking like that, preferably naked, but the conversation alone enthralled him. That she’d thought so much about it, had analyzed it and her own feelings so astutely, astounded him.

  He thought assuredly there could be no other woman on the planet like her and he craved more time just to be around her. He wanted to know what she thought about everything. She had a different outlook than most people, he’d already garnered that much and in the world he grew up in that was a rarity. A jewel to be treasured for sure.

  “This doesn’t have to be more than it is. You fascinate me, and that hasn’t happened in a very long time. Just let me get to know you better.”

  She slowly turned in his arms, her breasts brushed against him and it was all he could do to keep from tracing the curve. He imagined running his fingers up into her hair and kissing her, not tonight, with her cut lip, but soon and in the meantime, he could think of a hundred other ways to pleasure her. When she dared to look into his eyes, he saw the fear, but he also saw the desire. He had hope.

  “I called a cab. But I’ll be in the courtyard tomorrow, at three.” She slowly raised both her shoulders and held them there. “If you’re there...” she dropped her eyes and squirmed out of his hold. Nick turned to lean on the bar as he watched her leave. Everything he’d ever believed about life had somehow just shifted and for the first time in a very long time, he had hope for the future.

  Chapter Four

  “Tell me about your childhood.”

  Nick sat across from Keely at the table by the water fountain holding both her hands across the table’s top as they had done every afternoon for the past three weeks. Guy and Clarissa no longer felt the need to play chaperone and in that time they’d gotten to know a lot about one another, but childhoods and families had been firmly placed off limits. Now, however, Nick was falling in love with her and he needed more.

  She gave him a shy smile and lowered her eyes. “I thought we agreed, no personal questions.”

  He leaned closer to her, tugging on her hands until she looked at him, then smiling in his wicked way. “I think, ‘what type of underwear do you wear?’ was a pretty personal question.”

  Her mouth gaped open as she gasped. “And you asked it of me!”

  “And you didn’t seem to mind answering at the time.”

  He laughed, but she pulled her hands away from him and in a triple play, he watched her straighten her posture, along with her dignity, and the pink T-shirt she wore. “And obviously that was a mistake.”

  He tried so hard to swallow his smile and replace it with the very proper expression that was due here, but he couldn’t quite manage it. She could be so prim and proper at times and he’d found it thrilling to tease her into those moments. He smiled at her while moving into the seat beside her nudging her shoulder with his and taking back her hands.

  “Come with me to Matthew and Sasha’s wedding.”

  She visibly paled and closed her eyes. He sensed she was holding back from saying yes regardless of how badly she wanted to and it was causing her great pain.

  “I can’t.”

  Her voice was so tender, her eyes opened softly and she caressed his cheek with her palm. “I told you that already.”

  He brushed her cheek with his thumb, his other hand was entwined with hers. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but they’d agreed, no kissing on the mouth and no touching areas where a bathing suit would cover. He imagined he’d touched every area that wasn’t off limits by now, and that you could get away with in a public place. At the time he would have agreed to anything to keep seeing her, but it was getting harder and harder not to want more.

  “I know, but I never said I wouldn’t keep asking.”

  He softly brought his lips down on the bridge of her nose and felt her quiver. Luckily for him, her body always betrayed her, because sometimes it was the only reassurance he had that he wasn’t the only one feeling things.

  “How’s this. You go with me to the wedding—or—you tell me about your childhood.”

  He gave her his best grin but he thought she missed most of it as she collapsed in her chair, her body flopping against his chest with a heavy groan. He wrapped his arms around her, moving his one hand up and down her back wondering how loudly she’d object if it slid under the T-shirt. Lost in his own thoughts, he almost missed it when she began talking.

  “I grew up with a mom, Rissa obviously, and a brother, Peter.”

  He pulled her head back until he could see eyes. “Does this mean you really won’t go?”

  She placed her hands on his wrists and the weight of them divulged how weary she was. He wanted her on a sofa, on a bed, but these stupid metal and plastic chairs was all she would give him. Every afternoon at three, he got her for one hour. No telephone number, no address. He wanted to take the weight of the world off her shoulders, but—like every other woman he’d ever known— she didn’t think she needed him to.

  “Okay.” He needed a plan, but in the meantime, he’d take what he could get. “What about your family? I’ll take what I can get.”

  She sat away from him, resting both arms on the table, she played with her thumbnail, her eyes staring at the pale blue laminate tabletop. Nick sat back as well, it was too hard not to reach for her again otherwise.

  “You haven’t mentioned Peter before, neither has Clarissa. Is he still living?”

  She smiled sadly. “As far as I know. He’s in the middle east somewhere, last I heard, but he never feels the need to keep me informed.” She looked up at him. “Not that that’s a complaint, because I’m the only one he writes to, so in a way I’m honored. I just wish I knew more.”

  Nick perked up at that, information he knew he could get. He finally felt something tangible to cling to, but despite his enthusiasm, leveled is tone and asked casually, “What branch of the service is he in? I might be able to get you some information. My family has close ties with the military.”

  “Did you serve?”

  “Six years, Marines.” He laughed heartily. “My father had a fit. The family tradition was the navy.”

  She laughed with the free abandon he always loved. “What? Nicholas Gabriel Chilton was a rebel?”

  Her feigned shock put color in her cheeks and she never looked more adorable. He gave her a mock half bow from his seat. “I have my moments.”

  Glancing at his watch he grimaced, he hated this. “I have to get back.” He grabbed both her hands again.

  “Come over tonight?” He asked every day.

  “I can’t.” She gave the same answer.

  “Are you ever going to tell me more?”

  She only smiled. Desire and fear dancing in her eyes the way he’d become so used to. He kissed her soundly on the forehead as he stood. “You’re always welcome.” Unlike her, he’d given her his cell number, home number, work number, address. Hell he would have given her his social security number if he thought it would bring her to him.

  They held hands, then fingers as he moved further away from her, as her hand dropped from his he started to turn around.

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “This weekend.”

  He practically held his breath waiting for the answer he wanted to hear. She stood and ran into his arms. Holding him for dear life. She brushed her lips across his neck before whispering, “I can’t. I’m so sorry.” then running to her car.

  Nick was a man of great patience he was finding out. As he watched the silver car with the gorgeous blonde drive out of the parking lot, he had to wonder how much patience he
had left.

  • • •

  Moonlight slivered its way through the closed curtains of Nick’s bedroom. He flung them open, then the window, drawing a huge breath. He was exhausted as he halfheartedly started unpacking, but it was nice to be home. He wouldn’t have missed Matthew’s wedding for the world, but if he’d been asked one more time about coming home, he might have exploded. He threw the last of his toiletries on the bathroom sink and went to start a load of laundry.

  The funny thing was, if not for Keely, he probably would have used Matthew’s wedding as the catalyst to send him home. But how was he supposed to leave her with things so unfinished between them? He poured soap on top of his clothing, turned the dial and closed the lid.

  His mother was beside herself. He was the only one to have really left the nest and he didn’t think she knew how to handle it. He treasured her, but there was nothing he could do about it. He needed this for himself.

  He often wondered whether things would have been different if Freddie hadn’t died. The loss of his twin had been like losing a part of himself and ever since, he was never entirely sure who he was, really and truly, down deep. Most people never looked that far beneath the surface, but he was a reflective soul and the question had kept him up more than one night, wondering.

  He strolled into the living room and realized how much the space had come to feel like home for him. Originally he was going to rent furniture. His hand ran along the back of the chenille sofa he’d purchased at an estate sale and was glad he’d bought his own stuff. He looked for a book to read until he fell asleep, which considering the jet lag, probably wouldn’t take long, and ended up glancing at his watch as the doorbell rang. No one came over, certainly not this late at night.

  He looked through the peep hole, three times before opening the door to the curvaceous blonde on his doorstep who literally flew into his arms.

  “Three weeks, Nick! We have three weeks!”

  Her arms wrapped around his neck so tight her feet were probably dangling off the ground, instinctively he put his arms around her waist, backed into the apartment, and closed the door. She felt so good, he’d missed her every second of every day he’d been away, all three of them, but it felt like years.

 

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