Smoldering Embers

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Smoldering Embers Page 13

by P. M. Briede

I crossed my arms across my chest, confident that he’d just given me my argument. “Then by that definition, Wesley, my father should be arrested for we had gone on several dates as well, many before I even turned eighteen. I’m unwilling to think that the many meals I’ve shared with him were dates, no matter how you’re defining the term. I’ll agree with you that most dates entail all of those things, but their primary prerequisite is the asking part, and the agreement of both parties involved that it is…in fact…a date.”

  “You knew full well that it was a date.” This time when he spoke it was with a bit of agitation. I shook my head. “If not before it, then certainly as the night progressed, and absolutely before it ended. Most men don’t profess their love to women they’re not dating.”

  “You’ve got me there.” He nodded as if I’d conceded the point again. I gave him a moment to think so before continuing. “But the problem is that you are not most men. Since by your own admission last night, you’ve been unable to stop from professing your love for me over the last month and no matter how hard you try you will not be able to find anyone who will agree that we’ve been dating this entire time. I’m sorry, but the governor’s event was not a date.”

  “You’re splitting hairs, Charlotte.” I prepared myself for his next counter point but was shocked with what he said instead. “But I’ll concede this one to you, given that you just verbalized our relationship status.” He looked so very pleased with himself.

  I quickly reviewed my remarks over in my head. I couldn’t figure out what I’d said that would make him think that. “Wesley, I think you’re starting to go a little mad. I said nothing about our relationship.”

  “You will not be able to find anyone who will agree that we’ve been dating this entire time.” My words flowed past his lips distinctly and deliberately. He made as if to stand but quickly changed his mind and remained seated. “I believe those were your exact words, were they not?”

  “I don’t know if they were my exact words.” Unfortunately, they were, and he knew it too since I couldn’t get it out without tripping over them.

  “I do. But no matter, our number of dates no longer matters since we are dating.” Arrogant satisfaction oozed from him.

  “Why did it matter before?” He wasn’t fast enough to hide the blush that stole across his cheeks. “Wesley, why did it matter before?” I pushed him with entirely piqued interest.

  “Go inside and get changed,” he side stepped my question then cleared his throat. “Nothing fancy, but make sure you dress warmly. I’ll wait right here.”

  Pulling my weight off the railing, I walked towards the front door. When I reached it, I paused and turned to look at him over my shoulder. “Alright Wesley, I’ll let you have your little secret for now. However, I am surprised that you want me to dress warmly.” I paused and shrugged. “That’s too bad.”

  He relaxed into the swing, stretching his arm across its back. “What’s too bad? I would have thought you’d appreciate the effort I was putting forth to maintain your comfort.”

  Poor fool; he truly had no idea what he’d done. The ease with which I was going to be able to burst his innocent bubble almost made me regret the thought of even doing it. “Oh, no, you are absolutely right. I am soooo lucky to have a man like you who is willing to sacrifice his own built in excuse to press me closely to his own body, ensuring I don’t catch my death from the cold. It’s just that I was looking so forward to it. Oh, well.” As I shrugged, his jaw dropped when he realized the truth I’d just purred to him. As I opened the door to the house, I heard it snap shut. Giggling, I walked inside awash in satisfaction.

  * * *

  We’d just finished dinner at Royal House Oyster Bar. Wesley refused to tell me where we were going next, but we were heading north on the Ten. He hadn’t spoken since we’d gotten in the car, and the silence was starting to become unsettling. I tried to find comfort in the hand clasping mine that was resting on his thigh, but I honestly couldn’t take it anymore. “Why the long face?”

  He spared a quick glance from the road. “What?”

  “The long face, Wesley, what’s wrong?” He shook his head as if he was going to refute his sober visage. “Don’t bother denying it. Something’s bothering you. Now tell me what it is?”

  He seemed to shift uncomfortably in his seat, and his grip constricted. “I’m just chastising myself for being an idiot.”

  Unsure where he was headed but fascinated to find out I pressed him. “Go on.”

  “Your surprise is outside and driving there just reminded me of the rash decision I made to give you some friendly advice on your attire. I didn’t expect the transition to boyfriend to have any pitfalls. Old habits must die hard when I’ve played the role of friend for most of my life. I’m so used to always looking out for your wellbeing. I’d forgotten that now it’s okay for me to be a little more self-serving.”

  His words melted my heart. “Boyfriend? I think I could get used to that.”

  Warm eyes turned to me as we stopped at a red light. In my peripheral vision, I saw a concentration of lights. Tearing my gaze from his, I looked out the front window recognizing where he’d brought me. “Celebration in the Oaks! Wesley, I haven’t been here since…”

  “Since?” he led me.

  The memory flooded back. He’d been right; there had been at least one more date. How had I forgotten? He sincerely smiled at the recognition that bloomed on my face. “Since Grab-A-Date.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. This will forever be our place, understood?” With a smile, I turned back to the windows, peering out into the night sky. The moon was already shining brightly. It promised to be a clear, starry night.

  After parking, Wesley paid our way into the park. We strolled hand in hand as Christmas carols drifted through the trees. I remembered how differently that first date had been seventeen years ago. According to both Paige and Wesley, he’d been in love with me since junior high and I’d been ignorant of it. Looking back, I felt guilty for the way I’d treated him. I’d invited him because I had just split from Henry a month before and the guy I’d left him for turned out to be the worst sort of creep. Wesley had been a safe choice. I could still go out with my sorority sisters, and there were no confusing emotions, well at least for me. Paige had just met her future husband, and they rounded out our foursome. Unfortunately, the foursome quickly diminished to a twosome when they left us to go make out in some of the more secluded areas of the park. I’d thought nothing of his stoic nature that evening. Anytime we were alone in those days he seemed to turn in on himself. I’d danced around, held his hand, and kissed his cheek, all in an effort to win a smile from him. In fact, that was the beginning of how we would always greet and leave each other from then on. It was the one genuine smile I got from him that night, otherwise his lips would occasionally turn up at the corners, but never anything more. How had I been so blind?

  “What scene is playing through that brilliant mind of yours?”

  “Why didn’t you ask me out seventeen years ago?”

  “Ah, our first date.” He moved closer to me. “Well, much like you expressed last night, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I valued you too much and unlike now, mind you, I was petrified you wouldn’t love me in return.”

  “Why?”

  “Charlotte you were beautiful back then. Smart, charming, funny, every guy’s dream; you still are. Who was I? The geeky kid from the debate team who was lucky enough to befriend the hot chick. I wasn’t going to rock the boat. I saw the guys you dated back then. I couldn’t compete with them.”

  “Weren’t you paying attention though? Really until Giles most of them were jerks.”

  “They were and that was my plan. Have you date enough frogs that you’d finally see me as the prince. It was just poor timing on my part that when I’d gathered enough courage to force you to see me as more than your friend…”

  “Best friend mind you. Don’t short change yourself.” I snuggled into his
arm, resting my head on his shoulder as we continued walking.

  He chuckled deeply. “Alright, best friend, you come twirling into my dorm room raving about the most romantic date you’d ever been on with the cleverest man you’d ever met. It was Giles. You’d met a real prince, and the rest was history. You were so happy, and ultimately that’s what I wanted for you.”

  What he said made sense. As much as I welcomed the love that was blossoming between us, I wouldn’t have traded a single day with Giles for it. It pained me a little that I thought so poorly of him, and I was forced to share that when he noticed the tears brimming in my eyes. “Hush now, Charlotte, this is not a night for tears. I would never ask you to give up or trade what you had with Giles for more time with you. Those paths led us here, and I needed to become the man that you can love now.”

  Knowing that he deserved to hear me tell him, I pulled back to look into his eyes. “I do love you, Wesley.”

  “I know, Charlotte.”

  “No, you don’t. I love you.”

  His brows creased in confusion. Slowly the truth of my words sunk into his heart. “You love me?” I gave him a nod and an assured smile, pleased as his joyful expression beamed back at me. “You love me, as in more than as a friend.”

  “With all my heart.” He deserved to hear it, and I relished saying it. It wasn’t too fast since we’d known each other for years. No one knew me better and no one ever would. His eyes smoldered over and slowly his lips met mine, as his arms moved from the outside of my coat to the inside. Where our kisses before had resulted from unplanned and uncontrolled passion, this one was sweet and loving but no less deep or stimulating. My body lit up from this newly found intimacy, leaving me quivering in his arms.

  He mistook the quaking of my body for being cold. So he pulled away from me and took off his coat. “Where is your sweater? I know you had one on earlier.” He flung the coat over my shoulders, resting it on top of mine, and rubbed my arms.

  “I left it in the car.”

  “Why ever would you do that?”

  “Decided to team up with your self-serving side,” I replied, nonchalantly.

  “You never cease to amaze me. Are you ready to go home?” We’d only made it about halfway through the park, but the idea of going home with Wesley was immensely attractive. I nodded and wrapped in his arms we walked back to the car.

  As we drove away, I thought about the future that stretched out before us. “You know, I’ve decided that I don’t think I’ll get used to the term boyfriend.” His body tensed at my words, and I knew he’d missed the joke. Not wanting to have him suffer for long, I quickly continued my thought. “I mean I don’t think either of us qualifies as a boy or girl, except for gender, of course. It just feels so childish at our age, don’t you think?”

  “Actually I do think,” he answered with a chuckle. “What would you prefer?” He pulled my hand to his lips, kissing the back.

  I took a minute to ponder as I sunk into his warm leather seats. “Manfriend? Ugh, that just sounds disgusting.”

  “Steady?” he offered.

  “Not unless you want me to wear penny loafers and a poodle skirt. Beau?”

  “Am I supposed to be in tails then? Escort?”

  “Bleck! Do you want a tabloid exposé? Partner?”

  “I believe that term has now been claimed for individuals of a different persuasion. Suitor?”

  Ugh! “Why does everything have to sound either so old fashioned or childish?” The mock frustration I felt with finding an appropriate term to define us was countered by my enjoyment of the placid conversation with my best friend.

  “Here’s an idea! Search that big Latin dictionary in your head. What would be the closest term that we can make our own?”

  Closing my eyes, I searched the recesses of my mind. “Socium?”

  “No idea what it means but I don’t like the sound of it.”

  “Procus?”

  “Nor that.”

  As a flush stole onto my face, I was grateful for the dark when a term floated through my mind. Not wanting to say it, I pretended to continue to think. However, and I don’t know how, Wesley picked up on it. “You’ve got it, don’t you? Come on, spit it out.”

  “Amator.”

  “Amator?” He rolled the word over his tongue as if he was testing the taste. “Amator. I think I could live with that. What’s it mean?”

  “What it means doesn’t matter. If you like it, we can use it. It’s not like anyone else is going to know.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, and my heart rate increased at the thought of how the word would further change our relationship.

  “Love, your pulse is racing. It has to be something good! Tell me what it means.” Embarrassed to tell him, even though I was a grown woman, I shook my head. “Don’t make me Google it when get to the house. You know I will.”

  “You’d have to know how to spell it and I’m not going to help you with that one.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll get close enough!” He pulled into my driveway and turned off the car. I made to open my door and escape, but he tasked me. “Charlotte, let me have this, please.” I stayed seated while he got out and walked around to open my door and help me out.

  Hand in hand we walked to the door. Once there we both became shyly awkward, his nervous energy playing out as his thumb caressed the back of my hand. “Wesley I had a wonderful night with you.” It’s not what I’d planned to say but even with my mind telling my mouth what I desired, for some reason I didn’t seem to be capable of actually saying the words.

  “That sounds like a first date ending. Not a fourth date.”

  “Third,” I reminded him, tittering.

  “Potato, po-tot-toe. Why are you so nervous?”

  Attempting to shake it off, I summoned all my courage to step up and kiss him. In all the times we’d kissed before he’d always been the instigator. There were some scant chaste kisses I’d initiated but nothing like this. I tried to put everything I couldn’t vocalize into it obviously catching him by surprise since it took a minute before his lips separated and his tongue met mine. Our fingers remained intertwined but his free arm rose until he’d seized my waist, pulling me into him. All the while my body arched into his as my fingers tangled in his hair.

  Suddenly, the door was at my back and in my bewilderment I pulled my lips from his. Wasting no time his lips journeyed down my neck to the sensitive hollow he’d discovered the night before. His heart was pounding in his chest, beat for beat it matched my own. A whimper flittered from my lips to dance in the soft wind of the night. He lifted his lips and whispered passionately in my ear, “What does it mean?”

  “What does what mean?” I inquired, ardently. I was too focused on his touch, his heartbeat, his smell to understand what he was asking.

  “Amator.” His tongue caressed the word as his breath caressed my ear. “What does it mean, Charlotte?”

  Even focused on his voice I struggled to remember where I’d heard the word before. Mistaking my silence for a refusal to answer, his hand let go of mine and dug into his pocket. Seconds later he removed it while holding something. He arched back far enough for us both to see what he was holding but not enough to release me from my pleasant snare between him and the door. “Who are you possibly calling at this precise moment?” I demanded as irritation dripped from my breathy voice.

  “No one, but I warned you that if you continued to refuse to tell me, I would look it up.”

  Utterly frustrated that one word could completely stop what I’d boldly started, it was disrupting when the gears abruptly began moving again. I heard the clicking from the phone as his thumb was typing. I’d said the word. It was a Latin word. It meant…

  “Lover,” we said in unison. A curse passed his lips as he quickly knelt down. Confused by his action, my eyes followed him to see that he’d dropped his phone. When he stood back up, blazing eyes met mine. “I had an inkling that it meant something like that but I didn’t suspect lover. Is
that what you want? Are you ready for that?”

  Answers were flying through my head and my body was screaming yes, but again I found myself mute. Because he was Wesley, my perfect Wesley, he understood everything that I couldn’t say. “Charlotte, would you like me to stay the night with you again?” The only answer I gave was to turn, unlock the door, and pull him inside.

  Chapter 14

  Try as I might to stop them, flashes from the night continued to wreak havoc on my concentration. I shook my head to clear it, cracked the eggs, and poured them into the waiting skillets. God, I wish he’d just wake up already. I turned my head and drank in his scent from his shirt that I was wearing. My entire body was anxious for him and would not hold still. I stood there making breakfast for us balanced on one foot as the other fidgeted by running up and down the back of my calf, while I tried desperately to not chew on the thumbnail that was in my teeth. I succumbed to the guilty pleasure of remembering the feel of him, the way he’d explored my body with his lips and tongue. The thought provoked lascivious sensations that were almost as intense as the real thing.

  As if my musings had conjured him out of thin air, he was there. His arm slipped around my waist and his chest matched the contours of my back. My hair was swept to one side as he buried his face in my neck to breathe deeply. The hand that pulled back the curtain of my tresses swept around to caress my jaw line, encouraging me to lean back onto his shoulder, granting him more access. “Well, don’t you just paint the most provocative picture, my love,” he growled out in a rough voice.

  “Do I?” I purred at him innocently and closed my eyes. His pet name stirred desire deep within me now that I knew the ecstasy he offered.

  “You know that you do,” he murmured into my neck.

  A slow burn built within me as his arm quickly slid around my waist, clutching me to him. His fingers drifted from my jaw down my neck and was stroking the length of my collarbone. “Is that my shirt?” he asked in a weak voice. His fingers floated gently over my skin tracing the line of his collar stopping only when his fingers met the resistance of the first button.

 

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