Now You See Me

by Kris Fletcher

“Holding on. You?”

  “Par for the course.” He shrugged. The movement hiked his T-shirt higher. He was in the bike shorts again, a second skin that hugged every dip, every line, every God-knows-where-that-leads curve. Any last doubts were pushed aside by a drive far more primal.

  “I’m sorry about what happened this afternoon.” She forced her gaze back to his face, gauging his reaction by the narrowing of his eyes, the twist of his lips.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “It’s my place. Anything that happens here is ultimately my responsibility.”

  He crossed his arms and gave her the half smile she already knew meant he was in full tease mode. “So, if I told you I had the time of my life, would you take responsibility for that, too?”

  “No. But I would say you were a damned good liar.”

  His laugh was low and husky, intimate and enticing. Lust erupted within her, fast and hot and urgent. Every inch of her skin itched to press against him. She wanted to taste his lips and tangle her feet with his and inhale the scent of afterglow off his chest. She wanted to whimper and moan and lose herself in the overpowering urge to move closer, harder, faster. She wanted to feel alive in every pore, every molecule.

  And then she wanted to laugh and whisper and hold him tight until it started all over again.

  She pointed to the briefcase resting by his feet. “You have some papers for me?”

  “Uh...papers. Right.”

  He seemed awfully distracted for someone who was supposed to be here for a business meeting. She hoisted herself onto the corner of her desk, putting herself level with his shoulder, and smiled. “You know. The papers you were reading before Ted went all Neanderthal on us.”

  “Oh. Those.” A wry smile quirked the corner of his mouth. “Would you believe I don’t remember a thing I read?”

  Simple words. Innocent, even. But the way his voice dropped when he said them made her ever more certain that she wasn’t alone in this.

  It had been a long time since Lyddie played this game, but she remembered the next line. “How come? Were you preoccupied?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Couldn’t wait to see if Ted could speak without Jillian’s hand stuck up his...back?”

  He stared for a second, then burst into laughter, richer and deeper than the strongest Colombian. Lyddie realized that while she’d seen him grin and even heard an errant chuckle, this was the first time she’d heard his belly laugh. It seemed to take him over. It was strong and vigorous and made her think, damn, as soon as she stopped being terrified, this was gonna be fun.

  He shook his head, shoulders still heaving. “God, that felt good. You know that’s the first time I’ve really let loose since I came back here?”

  “I don’t know whether to feel sad for you or proud of myself.”

  “How about if you skip them both and go for a chuckle or two of your own? Say, at dinner with me tomorrow night?”

  If life were an Elvis movie, this would be the moment when one or both of them would burst into song. She hadn’t been wrong.

  Of course, if life were an Elvis movie, she would have a script so she wouldn’t have to figure out what to say next.

  “Tomorrow night? I—”

  He held up a hand. “Wait. That came out wrong. Let me start over.” He took a couple of steps toward the window before turning back to her, hands outstretched, face more serious than she had ever seen.

  “If you think that I was staring at my work the whole time I was there, then I’m a hell of a better actor than I thought. The only thing I remember—except for Ted—is sitting at that table, watching every move you made and wishing everyone would leave so I could be alone with you. But since that wouldn’t be good for your business, I thought I’d come back when they were gone.” He leaned forward, hands resting lightly on her shoulders. It was all she could do to keep her knees from turning into Slinky toys. “I would like to see you tomorrow night. Very much.”

  The fact that she remembered how to swallow was proof that the body’s reflexes are a wonderful thing indeed. He was so close. She saw the slight nervousness in those eager eyes, the way his T-shirt stretched with every rise of his chest. When she breathed she inhaled him, warm and strong, fresh like the river, dappled with a hint of pine.

  He lifted a hand to her cheek. Lightly. One finger, maybe two. She could have been more certain if she hadn’t been staring at his mouth, wondering what would happen if she leaned forward and helped herself to a taste of what promised to be even more delicious than a lemon poppy muffin.

  But she couldn’t. Not yet. No sensual dessert allowed until she ate her vegetables.

  “Tomorrow. Okay, this is, um, complicated. And I’ve never done anything like this before, so bear with me?”

  He drew back a little. Good. But bad, too, because there was now a curious tilt to his lips, negating all the calm she’d regained by his moving away.

  What the heck was she supposed to say now?

  “Tomorrow night will work. But I have, um, a couple of requests.” She ran though the mental list drawn up after the previous evening’s online research. “We need to go across the bridge, into New York. We need to leave in separate cars, because I don’t want my family to know what I’m doing, and I know that sounds silly, but I’ll explain later. Once we’re out of town we can ditch one car in a parking lot somewhere and ride the rest of the way together. And when we get across the border...”

  Oh, geez. Now she was getting to the really tricky part.

  Devilment glittered in his eyes. “Do you always think this fast, or have you been planning this?”

  “If I admit to planning, will you still respect me in the morning?”

  “A woman who knows her own mind and goes for what she wants is always worthy of respect.”

  As long as he kept thinking that way, this might turn out okay.

  “So don’t keep me in suspense. What happens when we cross the border? We go wild at the duty-free shop?”

  Lyddie closed her eyes, then forced them open again. No hiding.

  “Before we go to dinner, if you’re willing, we go to a drugstore to buy a do-it-yourself HIV test.”

  Well, that sure wiped the smile from his face.

  Lyddie wasn’t sure she had ever seen anyone’s jaw actually sag before. His eyes widened and he inhaled, short and sharp, before letting loose with a choked bark of something she assumed was supposed to be laughter.

  “Okay. Well.” He huffed out a breath, much as she had when Ted told her she wouldn’t be getting a loan. “You know, I was thinking an ice cream sundae would be enough for dessert, but if you have other ideas...”

  Okay, so she blew that one big-time.

  “This is why I told you I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “What, exactly, have you never done? Dinner, or an HIV test?”

  “Both. Either. I mean...shoot, I’d better just blurt it out, right? It can’t get any worse than it already is.”

  “Backing up a couple of steps would probably be a better idea than saying anything new, at least for the moment. I need a second here to catch up.” He stepped around where she was doing her best imitation of a statue and cupped her chin in his palm. The slightest hint of a grin flickered across his face. “But if it helps, you might notice that I’m not running.”

  The words and the touch managed to both soothe her and heighten the tension all at the same time.

  “It’s like this. Starting next Tuesday, I’ll be alone for two weeks. I’m going to have a lot of extra time on my hands, and I was hoping, maybe, to spend it with you.” She gulped. “For, um, some mutually satisfying experiences.”

  Silence.

  Lyddie decided she’d watched him long enough. She’d kept her eyes open for the asking. Surely she didn’t have to watch while he debated how to get away from the strange lady.

  “Let me get this straight. I want to be sure I’m not misinterpreting anything.”r />
  All she could manage was a squeak or two. She settled for a nod.

  “If I’m wrong, don’t hold it against me, okay? But it sounds like you just asked me to spend two weeks having sex with you.”

  She nodded quickly before shaking her head. “Not all the time. Only at night.”

  For the second time that afternoon, his laughter pealed around her. Since it didn’t sound derisive or disbelieving, Lyddie let herself relax just a little.

  “I’m glad you cleared that up. Performance anxiety was starting to creep in.”

  She felt the blush creep up her neck and spread across her face. Could she possibly bungle this any more than she already had?

  “And the test is in preparation for this, uh...”

  “Fling.”

  “Fling. Right. You want a test so that starting next week, we could have a fling.”

  “That’s about it.”

  “Not that I’m not flattered, because I am. Very. I’m just a bit...let’s say, surprised.”

  “Oh.” So much for those articles that made it seem like this was a regular prelude to intimacy these days. Betrayed by the internet once again.

  Some of her mortification must have shown because he placed a tentative finger beneath her chin and raised her face to meet his gaze. “I have done them before. Don’t panic—everything was always fine, and like any good soldier, I’ve never gone into battle without a shield.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “But I have to say, this is the first time I’ve had this conversation with someone I’ve only known a little while, biblically or otherwise.”

  “But isn’t that the whole point? That we don’t know each other very well, I mean?” It seemed so common sense, so awkwardly logical to her—but then, she was seriously out of the loop. Maybe she was asking too much.

  But no. Not when it came to protecting her kids.

  “Look, J.T.” She decided that no matter what, she had to get something from this, so slowly rested her hand on his chest. He was warm and firm, slightly damp from the heat and utterly intriguing. It took a moment to unearth her thoughts from the layer of lust that had taken over once again. “I know this is awkward and presumptuous and about a million other things. And I do believe that you are conscientious about taking all the usual precautions. That’s not the issue. But the thing is, my kids have already lost one parent. I know it might seem kind of silly and over the top to you, but I have to be super careful.”

  “Ah.”

  How he managed to pack so much emotion into one syllable was beyond her. The slight hint of bemusement left his eyes. She braced herself for the pity she was sure would follow, but instead, all she saw was understanding and a most unexpected but still welcome respect.

  “Okay. I get it. I see why this is so important to you, absolutely. I guess I would be asking the same thing if the tables were reversed.”

  Oh, thank God.

  “But now I have a question. Is this whole idea, this fling plan, because of me, or because of those things you said on your porch the night I brought Ben home? About you feeling like you were going to turn into your reputation?”

  “I... Okay. A lot of it is because of me. I might not be able to change how others see me, but if I can change how I see myself, well, that has to count for something. Right?” She hesitated before deciding she might as well go for broke. “It’s also because every time I look at your mouth, I want to outline it with lemon pudding and lick it off, one inch at a time.”

  “When exactly did you say your family was leaving town?”

  Amazing how some things come back to you. Lyddie hadn’t heard that trace of desperation in a man’s voice in a long, long time, but she still recognized it as being a very good thing.

  “The morning of the sixteenth.”

  “I’ll make a note of that.”

  Okay, that sounded promising.

  “Well, I don’t expect an answer right away. You should probably think it—”

  “Hang on.” He hesitated before running his hand slowly along her shoulder. For a moment Lyddie wasn’t sure what was happening. He didn’t want to start right away, did he? Then she realized he was tugging her hand up to encase it between his own. She hadn’t known how cold her fingers were until she felt the heat of his hands.

  The shivers running through her at his touch, however, had nothing to do with temperature.

  “Again, I’m flattered, Lyd. And humbled. And damned tempted. But—”

  In that moment, but became one of her least favorite words in the English language.

  “But?”

  “I have a condition of my own.”

  Okay, she could handle this. Maybe. “Such as?”

  He ran his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand, making concentration all but impossible. “I don’t know you as well as I would like, but everything I’ve seen tells me you take your responsibilities—your promises—seriously.”

  She tried to nod, but the slight roughness of his thumb was creating a friction that was difficult to ignore. All other tasks became secondary to encouraging the spread of that friction.

  “Here’s what I’m saying. I don’t want you to feel obligated. I’ll run to the store with you tomorrow night, and I’ll do the test. But I know this is a big step for you. If you change your mind, I want you to know that it’s okay with me. I’ll live.”

  Amazing how his words could be so reassuring and comforting while the simple stroke of his hand was enough to make her believe everything she’d ever heard about him being the baddest of the bad—in the best way possible.

  “I won’t back out,” she managed to say. “But, uh, the same goes for you. If you should, you know, get a better offer, or— You know, I just realized I never asked if you’re involved with anyone.”

  “You want the history? Married at twenty-five, divorced at twenty-eight. No major drama. Turned out we were great at doing college together, but real life was another story. Since then, a handful of relationships, never more than semiserious, always with full precautions. The last one ended about five months ago.”

  Well, it wasn’t four years, but he had some time to make up for, too.

  “How about you?”

  “Me?”

  “I know you were married.” He brushed her cheek, a gentle caress that both comforted and created a new rush of sensation.

  “That’s it in a nutshell.”

  “Nobody since he died?”

  “Nobody.”

  Both hands now framed her face, thumbs stroking heated lines along her cheeks. “That’s a long time.”

  “Tell me about it,” she said, feeling the absence more than ever with each touch.

  “You know,” he said, leaning closer, “you really should have more information before you make your decision.”

  “Should I start calling all the girls you went to high school with?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of a free sample.”

  She jerked beneath his hands. “J.T., I—”

  “Lyddie. Breathe, babe. All I had in mind was...this.”

  As he lowered his mouth to hers, a rapid-fire stream of emotions bombarded her. First came relief. A kiss! He was only talking about a kiss! Quick on its heels came a reality check: oh, my God, he’s going to kiss me. Then the hormones kicked in, doing a little glory hallelujah song and dance as contact was made.

  But no sooner had his lips brushed hers than the most dominant feeling of all leaped to the fore.

  Different.

  After four years, Lyddie could no longer give an accurate description of Glenn’s kisses. The memory of his skin against hers had been dimmed by time and pain. The only time she caught his scent anymore was in bits and pieces, soap and rain and garden mud, little fragments of the whole that had been him.

  Yet despite the time without him, the years with him had left his mark. His was the last touch she had felt. His was the standard against which newcomers would be judged. And so as J.T. edged closer, teasing
her lips with his tongue, all she could think was that he didn’t feel right. Not wrong. Just not right.

  Her uncertainty must have communicated itself to him, for after a couple of seconds he drew back. One eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.

  “I...I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me, it’s—”

  “It’s okay.” He lay one finger across her lips. “I told you, anytime you want to stop, you can.”

  “It’s just... When I said there’s been nobody, I meant nobody. Not a kiss, not a date, not anything. The most physical contact I’ve had with any man in four years was that pinky swear.”

  “So we go slow. Or we stop right now. Your call.”

  “No, I don’t want to... Maybe. I mean... Oh, damn.” The lust had ebbed away, leaving only a mix of disappointment, frustration and a slight embarrassment. She bowed her head so he wouldn’t see the tears building in her eyes. The poor guy had already taken everything she’d thrown at him and shown nothing in return but consideration, humor and just enough desire to reassure her. He didn’t need tears, too.

  “Hey.” His voice was deeper, his touch on her chin even more gentle than it had been. “You okay?”

  She nodded. It must not have been very convincing, because he blew out a sigh and pulled her close, cradling her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair in a steady, comforting rhythm.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought...”

  “Don’t. It’s okay.”

  “I feel so...” Stupid hovered unsaid in the air.

  “Lyddie. Look at me.”

  She wouldn’t have complied, but he tugged her shoulders back until she had no choice.

  “Good. Now listen. You spent, what, ten, twelve years with Glenn?”

  “Seventeen. From the time we met.”

  He whistled. “Seventeen years together, four without him. No wonder you freaked.” Again he stroked her cheek, pushing back a strand of hair that had broken free from her eternal ponytail. “I can’t imagine the guts it took to do what you did today.”

  Lyddie thought about saying something regarding the fine line between courage and stupidity but decided it was better to keep quiet.

  “I said it before and I’ll say it again. No pressure. We do what you want, at your pace.”