by Sylvie Fox
“You were helping Nick?” Holly asked, confused.
“Am I missing something? Why the Häagan Dazs and the long face? The hottest guy this side of the Rocky Mountains goes out of his way to seek you out, and you’re drowning yourself in a pint of rocky road ice cream.”
“Oh Sophie, don’t get me wrong. Nick’s a really nice guy. And if I were just out for a fling, I might try him out for a whirl. But I already made this mistake once with Drew. I want a man who’s ready to settle down. Nick’s twenty-six. I already married a twenty-six-year-old once. I doubt he knows where his next meal is coming from, much less his next relationship. Sophie, he doesn’t even have a couch.”
“You’re going to brush off a great guy because he doesn’t have a sofa? Why don’t you give him this damn couch? I’ve seen your storage space, and you have about five ‘settees’ too many.” Uh-oh, Sophie was using air quotes.
“Look, I’m not saying that Nick’s a forever guy. I don’t think anyone’s proposing marriage here. While you’re looking for Mr. Forever, Nick could be Mr. Here and Now. Aren’t you even attracted to him?”
Holly blushed to the roots of her hair. Thoughts of last night had her waving her hands to cool her heated face.
Sophie put down her spoon and smiled knowingly. “I may have to revise my theory on you and Nick going all the way last night. Look, all I’m saying is that he really likes you, and I think underneath all of that protesting, you like him too. It’s rare for two people to have great chemistry, like you guys seem to have. I think you shouldn’t give that up easily without at least pursuing it, seeing where it goes.”
“Sophie, I don’t want either one of us to get hurt. I’m probably a strong candidate for hooking up on the rebound. He’s young and probably doesn’t know any better.”
“Then don’t get hurt. No one says you have to lay your heart on the line. Young men have great stamina and short attention spans. If he can fill some of the lonely places you have in here,” Sophie said nudging at Holly’s heart, “let him.”
After Sophie left, Holly knew she couldn’t continue to dismiss Nick. He was hot. Her whole body tingled just thinking of him. There was no doubt about the chemistry they shared. She couldn’t remember a man ever turning her on more. Plus, he was nice, considerate, and had been a really good friend when she needed one.
Throwing away the now empty container, Holly looked at the cordless phone on her kitchen counter. It was time to take the plunge and call Nick. She was tired of sleeping alone. He could definitely set the sheets on fire, and maybe a little bit of heat is what she needed.
If practice made perfect, she would enjoy perfecting her womanly arts with Nick. That way she’d know what to do with Mr. Right when she found him. As long as they knew the ground rules from the start, what was the worst that could happen?
Chapter Three
If Nick were physically able, he would have kicked himself in the ass. Standing in his living room, he looked down at the makeshift bed of rumpled throw pillows and blanket he and Holly had shared last night. He couldn’t believe he’d totally blown it and let his dick rule his brain.
Holly had treated him like a horny teenager because he’d acted like a horny teenager. He was all over her the whole night. When he wasn’t touching her, he was thinking about it. Any sane person walking into his house would have realized he had seduction on his mind.
Still, until Nick had come face to face with Holly as a free woman, he didn’t know the depths of his feelings for her. His hope had been to see her at the party, talk to her, maybe see if his attraction to her was all in his mind.
Sometimes fantasy didn’t meet up with reality after all. But with Holly, the reality was so much more. Seeing her alone on the deck, looking so vulnerable and lost, had been his undoing. He’d wanted to pull her into his arms right then and chase away whatever was making her blue.
When she’d walked through his front door, he felt like his house was finally a home. He hadn’t realized her approval would mean so much to him. It was almost two years ago that his house had come on the market. He and his then girlfriend, Claire, were thinking of buying a place together—possibly taking their relationship to the next level, maybe a long engagement or marriage. But neither of them had been very interested in getting more serious, and when that became clear, they had gone their separate house-hunting ways.
Since Holly and Drew had spent two years looking for the perfect house, he had turned to her for advice—and her help had been invaluable. She’d helped him find a real estate agent, weed the good houses with great bones from termite ridden shacks, and had even accompanied him on the inspection with suggestions on how to negotiate the best possible price.
Then she and Drew had split, and Holly had gone into hibernation. He had understood that she needed time after her divorce, and he’d stood by, patiently waiting in the wings. All that anticipation, all that wanting had clouded his judgment on Saturday night. Her amber eyes flecked with need, all that curly dark hair spilling over his pillow. Her full, warm lips had called to him, and he had been unable to resist.
Nick shook his head, clearing the images from the night before. He was hard again, wanting her. He neatly stacked the large pillows against the wall and stored the throw blanket on a shelf under his giant screen TV, and dragged himself upstairs for a long shower. He set the water as cold as he could stand it.
Holly nearly jumped out of her skin when the phone rang. The caller ID read: Nick Andreis. Had her thoughts about him projected into the phone?
“Hello.”
“It’s Nick.”
“I know.”
There was a pause on the line. “I’m sorry about last night,” he continued. “Can I come over? We need to talk.”
“Sure,” Holly said, and he instantly disconnected the call. Damn, I wouldn’t have eaten that ice cream if I’d known Nick was coming.
Quickly brushing her hair and applying a little lip-gloss, Holly fidgeted on the couch, trying to look casual while her anticipation of Nick’s visit built. Why was he sorry? Was he sorry that he had made love—and that’s what it had been—with her? He’d gone from no regrets to sorry so quickly, he’d probably realized she was too old for him. Maybe he was coming by to put their relationship back in the “friend” zone.
When she heard the courtyard gate creak open and heavy footfalls on the stairs, Holly stood, took a deep breath, and rolled her shoulders like she’d been taught in yoga, trying to release the building tension.
She opened the heavy wood door before he knocked. Borrowing a little of Sophie’s bravado, she decided to throw caution to the wind. Quelling the butterflies doing flip-flops in her belly, she took in the man who filled her doorframe. He looked good enough to eat, in a soft green, cashmere sweater that matched his eyes perfectly and fitted, tawny cords molded to his perfectly formed body.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
Boldly, Holly grasped his hand, pulled him into her living room, and pushed the door closed. Looping her arms around his neck, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, releasing all her pent up desire she’d held back the night before. Holly knew with that move that she hadn’t been drunk or fooling herself. There was chemistry between them she couldn’t deny.
She nearly fainted as his tongue dueled with hers and his long hardness swelled against her belly. Ah, he felt it, too. Knowing where this might lead, Holly moaned wantonly. She was surprised when Nick unwound her hands from his neck and stepped back from her.
“Holly, this is not what I came here for.”
Heat rushed to Holly’s cheeks. God, what could she have been thinking? There was no way a young, virile guy like Nick would want to hook up with an aging cougar like her. She had just broken the cardinal rule of a one-night stand—even if they hadn’t really made love in the traditional sense. He was probably coming to apologize and suggest they return to their pre-orgasmic relationship.
Nick shook his head then smiled almost wolfishly. “I want to t
alk to you about something else.” He made his way to her antique, rolled-arm Edwardian settee and patted the space next to him. She sat primly, her feet tucked under her, girding herself for the inevitable let down.
“Can you spend the day with me on Friday?”
The unexpected question completely threw her off guard. “Sure… I guess they can get along without me at work for one day. Why?”
“There’s something I want you to come see with me.”
“Nick, I want to explain about my behavior just now… ”
He shushed her with a finger to her lips, causing the same heady rush she got when his lips touched hers. “Please, don’t say anything. I think we’ve already said too much today.” He stood, pulling her with him, leaned down and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be here to pick you up around ten o’clock. Okay?”
Holly nodded her agreement. Nick showed himself out. After Holly closed the door, she watched him from her picture window as he drove off What was she supposed to think now? Did he want her? Or want to let her down easy?
After all the convincing talk from Sophie, she had been very ready to give in to her desire to be with him despite their age difference, knowing he wasn’t her forever guy. Instead, he was inviting her to spend time with him on Friday. Perhaps then they could get to the bottom of their attraction to each other. Maybe if they made love, or more likely had heart-stopping sex, she could work him out of her system and focus on finding Mr. Right.
On Friday morning, after calling work to wrap up a weekend Habitat for Humanity project staffed by Equia employees, Holly dressed in the most versatile clothes she could think of. She hadn’t heard from Nick in four days, but he filled her thoughts nonetheless. She’d finally chosen a dark chocolate silk knit twin set, nipped at her waist, because it made her brown eyes more luminous. Tweed pants and low-heeled shoes completed her look.
Given California’s casual style, she was dressed to go almost anywhere. If she could only figure out something to do with her hair. She was often mistaken for a teenager when her hair was down. The Shirley Temple curls always undid any elegance she was trying to achieve. But when she heard Nick’s car pull up, Holly impulsively scraped her hair back into a quick chignon and slicked on some lip-gloss—no reason for Nick to think she wasn’t trying.
Before Nick could come up, Holly grabbed her purse and ran down to meet him. The last thing she needed was another awkward situation where she came on to him and he turned her down. Even at her age, rejection was hard to take.
If he just wanted to be friends, it was fine with her. She loved her friends, and having one more good friend to count on was never a bad thing. Now, if she could just talk him into being friends with benefits, she thought smiling to herself, that would be even better.
Nick had just stepped out of his convertible and seemed surprised to see her in the courtyard.
Holly was walking toward the car, but Nick was walking toward her.
“Do you need something?” she asked, uncertain with him.
By way of an answer, Nick gathered her in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth. When other kisses would have ended, theirs changed. His mouth slanted against hers, his tongue sought entry and stroked hers.
Normally, Holly would have shied away from such a public display of affection. But propriety be dammed, Nick felt and tasted too good to let go. Her hand slipped under his sport coat to grasp his broad back. His lips and tongue teased hers, tasting of mint and wanting. Only their third kiss and she was addicted. When he unwound his arms from her waist, she grasped his hands.
“Nick?”
Nick saw Holly’s confusion and wanted to kick himself again. He couldn’t get this right to save his life. First he’d pawed her like a teenager, then he’d come over and blown her off after she’d come on to him—her kiss as sweet as ice cream.
Why couldn’t he strike the right tone? He’d invited her out today so he could show her that there was more to his life than sex. He wanted a relationship with Holly, a real honest-to-goodness, boyfriend-girlfriend relationship with her. He wanted them to date, have dinner, watch movies, and, yeah, even have sex like any other couple would. Nick wished he could change how they’d come together on Saturday night, but he couldn’t turn back the clock. He needed to move forward, and do it right this time.
“Holly, I just had to do that or the anticipation of kissing you would have distracted me all day, and my work would have been shot to hell.” Nick rubbed a roughened thumb along her downy cheek. “I think we crossed wires the other day. I need you to know that I want you…desperately. I have wanted you for a very long time. That certainly hasn’t changed from last weekend. I just hope that you want me, too.”
Holly lowered her eyes. Then she nodded, almost imperceptibly. Nick took a deep, shuddering breath and shoved a hand through his hair.
“Then we better leave now before I abandon my crew and take you upstairs. But I promise you,” he said, tilting her chin and looking her directly in the eye, “when I’m done with my work for today, I intend to do something about this.”
Chapter Four
Nick put a hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the car. His touch branded her, creating tingles here, there, and everywhere his body came into contact with hers. Unable to articulate what she was feeling, Holly changed the topic once they were on the road.
“So, where are we going?”
While Nick masterfully guided the small convertible through L.A.’s late morning traffic snarl, she saw his disposition change. “We’re going to the graduation of the Esperanza Nueva Charter High School.”
“A commencement? In September?”
“It’s an alternative charter school. Dean Callas can set any schedule he wants, so he holds classes year round. That way, he figures he can keep tabs on the kids, make sure they’re engaged. He doesn’t want them to have too much idle time. During their last summer, he helps them make college and career plans. He hopes that by holding graduation at the same time students are incoming, he can inspire the new kids—show them what they can achieve.”
“This sounds like a wonderful place for kids.”
“We think so. My partner, Helena and I have been working on a yearlong documentary—following the lives of students and families involved with the school.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you were working on this kind of project, or that you and Helena were partners now. I haven’t seen her since she worked as Drew’s assistant.”
“I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you. Helena loves this project as much as I do. And wait until you meet the kids, Holly. These young people come from some of L.A.’s toughest neighborhoods and the most challenging backgrounds, but they’re striving, and they have hope for brighter futures.”
On the drive, Nick explained more details of his documentary and what his crew would hope to capture today. A couple of years ago someone had invited him to the charter school’s first graduation, and he’d been intrigued.
Nick had approached the school’s director about following the students for a year, and the project was born. His production team picked seven different children to follow throughout their entire senior year at Esperanza Nueva. Not all the kids made it, but the sheer grit and determination of those who did would make a moving film. He and Helena planned to show the film at festivals, and if it found a distributor, major theaters around the country would show the documentary next year.
When they pulled up to one of the stately old churches that graced West Adams Boulevard, Nick quickly explained that the school lacked the adequate space for a ceremony of this size and scope. The church was impressive. It was a throwback to east coast grandeur incongruously surrounded by palm trees. He was looking forward to shooting in such a beautiful space and was assured it would lend the film a soberness not noted in other locations.
The parking lot was teeming with all shades of people, their faces suffused with happiness and pride. It was a picture of Los Angeles’ di
versity. Many of those same faces beamed with extra-wide smiles when they realized Nick was the man getting out of the car.
Many in the crowd reached for him and greeted him warmly. He returned those greetings, grasping some students’ hands, hugging others. Holly, not wanting to spoil the moment, tried to slip quietly into the background, until Nick pulled her forward and introduced her to the crowd.
“Marco, Anthony, Carlos,” he said to a few young boys, dressed in their Sunday best, at the front of the crowd, “I want you all to meet Holly. Make sure she meets everyone.”
Surrounded by people suddenly patting her shoulder and giving her knowing winks, Holly felt about fifteen years old. When an older Hispanic woman pulled her aside, she gladly let herself be corralled.
“So, tell this old abuela, are you Nicky’s novia?” she asked winking. “He’s a good man. He’s been a blessing to Esperanza— after seeing parts of his film, some well-to-do folks in Beverly Hills gave the school money and we will be able to buy new computers this year.”
Holly was impressed with this side of Nick. He had always been a “nice guy,” but she had not realized the depths of his compassion.
After mingling with a number of students and parents and assuring them she was just Nick’s friend, nothing more, Holly made her way to the church basement. Folding chairs faced the stage, where a single dais stood spotlighted.
The production crew lined up along the sides and against the back wall with lights and cameras poised to capture the stage activity and the onlookers’ reactions. Although it was clear Nick was in charge, she noticed the camaraderie among the people he worked with. Toward the back, the heavenly smells of home-cooked meals presaged the reception afterwards.
A hush came over the crowd as a scratchy, well-worn CD started and the strains of Pomp and Circumstance filled the basement. Then, one by one, the graduates in their blue satin robes, mortarboards, and tassels marched down the makeshift aisle, their faces suffused with pride. More than one teenage mother walked down the aisle with her toddler in tow. Holly wished she had brought tissues when a young man, whom she had seen earlier in low-slung pants, now in a suit and tie under his gown, walked his mother down the aisle with him—both crying.
