Without a Net

by Blake, Jill

  Max found himself smiling at random times, amused by Ben’s animated chatter and Eva’s enthusiasm at viewing the old photos on display—though the latter may have had more to do with the air conditioning than the photographs themselves.

  When they got back to Santa Monica, Ben skipped up the front path toward the house. Max and Eva followed more slowly. She unlocked the door and watched her son disappear inside.

  “Thank you,” she said, turning to Max. “We had a wonderful time.”

  “My pleasure.” He wanted to slip an arm around her, bring her in close, kiss her. But she wouldn’t appreciate the PDA.

  He quelled his disappointment when she didn’t invite him in. It had been a long day, and they were all tired. Not to mention grimy. While he hadn’t given up on the idea of getting a hot and bothered Eva naked in the shower, it probably wasn’t going to happen today.

  ###

  Over the next few weeks, Max tried to snatch as much time with Eva as possible. Mostly at his house, while Ben was at school. Eva balked at going out, claiming she was too busy. With the school year winding down, there was an uptick in year-end activities that required chauffeuring and supervision. She was also focusing on other work besides the marketing of his book. Max tried to be supportive and encouraging, but sometimes found it hard not to resent how that work cut into what little time they had together.

  The nights were more difficult. He ended up spending many sleepless hours hunched over his keyboard, pouring his frustration into a new manuscript. At least his writer’s block was gone. That was about the only good thing to be said for having a cold and lonely bed.

  On Saturday afternoon Eva took Ben to her parents in the Valley. Max kept waiting for her to invite him along, but she either missed or ignored his subtle hints. Worse, she didn’t bother to discuss with him how long she would be gone. As if it didn’t occur to her that he might want to know when she planned to return, if for no other reason than to have some idea of when to start the grill. He was making dinner—New York Strip steaks with garlic butter and potatoes, one of the few dishes he knew how to prepare without a recipe. Maybe he should have flat out asked when to expect her. Except he didn’t want to seem pushy. Or needy.

  How ironic. He’d always been the one to set boundaries, to resist when the woman he was with made too many demands on his time and attention. The moment she started questioning her role in his life, or asking where their relationship was going, he was out the door.

  Being on the flip side of the equation was strange and unsettling. Karma, his sister would say. Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. Too often he had the sense that Eva was trying to pigeonhole him, keep him somehow separate from the rest of her life. Anytime he strayed beyond the limits she imposed, Eva clammed up and retreated.

  The best he could do was continue being patient. Draw her in slowly. Make her feel comfortable in his presence, welcome in his home.

  This too was a departure from his modus operandi. Eva was the first woman, aside from his sister, with whom he didn’t mind sharing his personal space. There was something right about seeing her there, lounging in his bed draped in nothing but a sheet, or pecking away on her laptop beside him.

  He lived close enough to Ben’s school that Eva could walk over after dropping her son off in the morning. If she drove, he offered her the use of the extra parking space in his garage, ever mindful of his sister’s observation that Santa Monica—or at least their part of it—was a small community. Until their relationship was on firmer ground, he didn’t want to attract any more unnecessary attention. Maintaining a low profile would hopefully keep Nina off his back as well. The last thing he needed was for his sister to scare off Eva with tales of his checkered dating history.

  Eva ended up calling him from the road. She was stuck in traffic on the 405, so would probably arrive in thirty-forty minutes.

  “Perfect,” he said. Plenty of time to set the table, open a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon to let it breathe, whisk together a balsamic vinaigrette for the spinach and blue cheese salad, and prep the main dish. The doorbell rang just as he was plating the grilled peaches with ricotta and honey for dessert.

  “Wow,” Eva said, coming up for air after his enthusiastic greeting.

  It took Max a moment to realize she wasn’t talking about the kiss. She was staring past him, at the white linen spread with lit candles surrounded by clusters of rosebuds. The florist swore Max couldn’t go wrong with this arrangement, but now he wondered if maybe it was a bit over the top.

  “Here.” Max pulled her further into the room and poured a glass of wine.

  “Is that Andrea Bocelli playing?”

  He took a fortifying gulp of wine. “Too much?”

  She smiled, her eyes luminous in the dim light. “It’s lovely, Max.”

  He let out a relieved breath. Ridiculous for him to be so on edge over a simple dinner date. Granted, he’d never gone to such trouble before Eva. And certainly not in his own home. But he was a seasoned campaigner when it came to women. All of these trappings of romance should be second nature by now.

  For some reason, though, he felt unsure of himself. As if he were venturing into unfamiliar territory, all the landmarks unrecognizable. And in a sense, maybe he was. For the first time in his life, he was going after something he really wanted without any guarantee of success, something that had become so essential to his well-being that failure wasn’t an option, and yet the outcome of this pursuit wasn’t entirely dependent on him. What an extraordinary position to be in: at once terrifying, and humbling, and exhilarating.

  The evening unfolded like a dream. Conversation segued smoothly from one topic to the next. Eva praised his cooking. They lingered over dessert, then blew out the candles, and drifted through a series of languorous kisses into the bedroom.

  Her mouth tasted of honey and peach. He breathed in the faint scent of vanilla as he kissed his way down her neck, across the smooth skin of her shoulder, along the silky curve of her breast.

  What clothing got in way, he pushed aside or lifted, until it was bare skin against skin. He wanted unfettered access, without any barriers, and for a moment even wavered before tearing open a foil packet. She must have sensed his hesitation, because she took the condom from him and rolled it on, transforming the practical necessity into a sensual gesture that had him hardening even more in her hand.

  The first thrust was like coming home. She was warm and wet and tight, and felt as if she were made just for him. This was where he belonged, buried in her heat and softness, her breathy words of encouragement a caress against his ear. He withdrew and sank back into her, again and again, his hands digging into her hips, angling her for deeper penetration.

  He couldn’t wait. It was too much. He reared up, onto his haunches, which had the effect of pressing him farther inside her. His thumb stroked just above where they were still joined.

  “Max.”

  He rubbed her clit in time to his thrusts, breath hitching, muscles tensing. Sweat dripped down his forehead, blinding him. Her thighs stiffened and she started to convulse around him.

  The rush of sensation was overwhelming, unstoppable. One final push, and then he was collapsing on top of her, groaning, shuddering, the spasms going on and on until he was empty, drained, unable to move at all.

  ###

  He was a morning person. But after a long vigorous night of lovemaking, he really shouldn’t be this chipper. It was beyond strange. He couldn’t explain it, this breathless, almost giddy sense of happiness that had him whistling as he made breakfast. While the coffee brewed, he cleared the detritus from last night’s meal, loaded the dishwasher, and snagged a single rose from the dining table centerpiece.

  Eva was still sleeping when he set the tray on the nightstand. Her nose twitched when he traced the petals along her cheek. He grinned and repeated the caress.

  She swatted at the offending flower and opened one eye.

  Max laughed. “Morning, sunshine.”

&
nbsp; She grumbled something and tried to roll over, but was constrained by the blanket Max was sitting on. He reached over her, propping his hand atop the blanket on the other side of her hip, completely trapping her.

  “Some of us actually need sleep,” she said.

  “I brought you breakfast.”

  She glanced at the bedside table and sighed. “You’re spoiling me.”

  “I’d like to, if you’d let me.” He was surprised by how much he meant it.

  She tugged at the blanket until he released it. Tucking the edge beneath her arms, she scooted up against the headboard, effectively keeping herself covered. “Do I smell coffee?”

  He took the hint. For several minutes, they drank and ate in companionable silence. Her appreciation of the simple food—hardboiled egg, buttered toast, vanilla yogurt topped with sliced strawberries—made him realize how little she expected, and paradoxically how much more he wanted to give her.

  “Delicious,” she said, licking the spoon and then her lips. “I could get used to this.”

  If he hadn’t been watching her, he might have missed the sudden paling of her cheeks, the fleeting look of panic in her eyes. He found himself wanting to reassure her. Even though, under ordinary circumstances, that kind of statement would have sent him running for the hills. But when Eva said it, he really could envision an endless succession of mornings just like this, stretching into the distant future. He’d have to learn some new recipes. Or maybe they could cook together. Ben could help.

  Eva recovered quickly and changed the subject. He swallowed his disappointment and pretended not to notice her sudden tension. A few minutes later, she escaped to the bathroom, while he took the breakfast tray back to the kitchen.

  He was pouring himself another cup of coffee when an unfamiliar ringtone broke the silence. It was barely eight o’clock on Sunday morning. Why would anyone be calling Eva, unless it was an emergency? He followed the sound to the living room, where Eva had left her purse last night. She’d clearly had the same thought as him, for she was already there, wrapped in a towel, her wet hair straggling down her back.

  She dug out the iPhone. “Oh. Hi, Nina.”

  Instead of giving her some privacy, Max crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, shamelessly eavesdropping on the conversation.

  “I had a few errands to run before picking up Ben,” Eva said, turning her back to Max.

  He frowned. Okay, so he wasn’t exactly announcing their relationship on national TV, but did Eva really feel it necessary to lie to her best friend? It didn’t matter that her best friend happened to be his sister. Nor did it matter that admitting to their relationship might cause problems between Max and Nina. What bothered him was the fact that after the night they had just shared, Eva still refused to acknowledge that something meaningful was happening here.

  “Where is it?” Eva tightened the towel around her, which had the effect of raising the hem another couple inches, nearly to the top of her thighs.

  Max felt himself stirring in response.

  “I can’t afford anything big.” She paused, listening intently for a minute. “Well, ok, if you think it’ll work. When can I see it?”

  Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned when she saw Max still there. “I’ll have Ben with me. He doesn’t know we’re moving yet. I don’t want him to worry about where we’ll be living until everything is lined up.”

  She returned to the couch and picked up her bag. “You sure?”

  Another moment, and she disconnected. “I need to get going, Max.”

  He’d already figured that out. It also seemed unlikely he would see any more action today. He sighed and straightened. “What did my sister want?”

  “She found a rental that might work. We’re going to see it this afternoon.”

  He followed her back to the bedroom. “Want me to come with you?”

  She blinked, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. He gritted his teeth. Her state of denial was really starting to annoy him.

  “I don’t think so,” she said. “But thanks for the offer.”

  He wasn’t ready to let it go so easily. “When will I see you?”

  She dropped the towel and pulled on her clothes from the previous day. He was so busy watching that he almost missed her answer.

  “I’ll call you,” she said. “We still need to coordinate the launch party for Wednesday. And the reading on Thursday.”

  He followed her to the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe as she hung up the towel. “What about tomorrow?”

  She ran his comb through her hair. “It’s the last two days of school. Early dismissal.”

  The barriers were back up, and Max found himself at a loss. He wanted to keep pushing, but how was he supposed to do that, when she seemed so determined to maintain her distance?

  All he knew was that in the last few weeks, Eva had become a vital part of his life, and he didn’t want to lose her. With the clock ticking down on the school year and mere days left before his book launch, it seemed he was running out of time to plead his case.

  Chapter 21

  A debut book by an indie author could easily get lost amongst the million new books published each year. But a pulse-pounding thriller by a hot young ER doctor who looked like a romance cover model and wrote like a latter-day Michael Crichton? That had potential. And that’s how Eva chose to spin it.

  The virtual book launch went off without a hitch. Eva set up several laptops in Max’s dining room. One broadcast Max doing a brief interview and reading via live video streaming, followed by a pre-recorded loop of promotional material: book trailer, contest information, giveaway countdown. Other computers monitored various social media sites where Max answered questions from bloggers, reviewers, and some members of the local press.

  Eva put Ben and Connor to work, under Nina’s supervision, assembling prizes for the winners of the evening’s giveaways. Swag packages included an autographed copy of Max’s book, a custom designed bookmark, an Amazon gift card, and a signed glossy 8 x 10 of Max, looking buff in scrubs with a stethoscope draped around his neck.

  The following night, they all gathered at the main branch of the Santa Monica Library for Max’s reading. A question and answer session followed, along with a live drawing for several of the remaining gift baskets. Every member of the audience also received a canvas shopping bag with an imprint of Max’s book cover on one side and a one-line blurb on the other. In a town where plastic bags had been banned, Eva considered distributing reusable bags a stroke of marketing genius.

  As the evening broke up, and the last stragglers exited the auditorium, Eva started packing up her gear. The staff person who had helped coordinate the event made sure they didn’t need anything else, then excused herself.

  It was late, well beyond Ben’s usual bedtime. Even though school was over and camp didn’t start until the following week, Eva was eager to get him home. It would take Ben a while to wind down after tonight’s excitement, so the sooner they began the bedtime routine, the better.

  The screech of the microphone caught her attention. Ben and Connor had clambered onto the stage and were tussling for control. Eva opened her mouth to intervene, but Max beat her to it.

  “Hold up, guys. That’s not a toy. You want to try it out, you need to be careful and take turns. Ben, you’re up first. Two minutes, then switch.”

  Eva hid a smile.

  Nina wasn’t so discreet. “Bravo, Max. You’ve just aced Conflict Resolution 101.”

  Max climbed down from the stage. “I’m a quick study.”

  “Absolutely,” Eva said. “You were brilliant tonight. You had the audience eating out of your hand.”

  He grinned. “Really?”

  “Good thing you autographed the books ahead of time. Nina and I couldn’t hand them out fast enough.”

  “A shame we couldn’t charge for them,” Nina added. “Would have made a killing.”

  “Library policy,” Eva said. “B
ut that’s not the point. The place was packed. That’s two hundred new readers who will hopefully go out there and start spreading the word. And there were a few people here whose word carries a lot of weight. Did you see the woman in the third row, the pretty one with the long dark hair?”

  Max shrugged.

  “The one in yellow?” Nina asked.

  “Yes. She writes for the LA Times on their book blog. And the guy in the back, sixty-ish, salt and pepper hair, who came a little late? Producer. Mostly does thrillers, although the last one was a love story.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I made sure his book had a promotional card inside, with your website and email address. You never know.”

  “That’s great.” Max laughed and wrapped an arm around Eva’s shoulders, drawing her in for a boisterous hug. “What would I do without you?”

  Eva wasn’t sure what was more alarming: the warmth his words generated, or the fact that she had such a hard time stepping away. It didn’t help that Nina was watching them with great interest. Ignoring her friend’s curiosity and her own hammering pulse, Eva shrugged out of the embrace and forced herself to concentrate on the clean-up.

  Max glanced at his watch, then called toward the stage, “Time’s up, guys. Connor’s turn at the mike.”

  “And then we need to get going,” Nina said. “Last chance for a ride, Max.”

  “Thanks, but Eva can take me home.”

  “Actually—” Eva bit her lip. She and Ben had picked up Max from his house earlier that day. It had given them the opportunity to review some last minute details in preparation for the reading, and to transport all the books and giveaways to the library in one shot. But now that the big event was over, all the adrenaline of the last few weeks seemed to have drained out of her. Why hadn’t she asked Max to leave his Ferrari at her house, like he had when they’d gone to Griffith Park? Or better yet, why couldn’t he be like the rest of southern California, and drive an SUV or a four-door hybrid—anything, really, except a stupid two-seater that didn’t even have a proper trunk? Then he could be the one doing the chauffeuring.