by CM Foss
After a taste of each item, I set my fork down and leaned back in my chair. Ivy had both elbows on the table, chin resting in her hands, watching me with glee.
“Okay. I admit it. I’m changed.”
She laughed and clapped her fingers together. “I knew it.”
“But now what? You’ve ruined me, because no way will I get this in New York.”
Her face fell so briefly I wasn’t even sure if I saw it happen, then her smile was back.
“Remember. You’re supposed to enjoy the good stuff and not forget it. If you’re so worried about tomorrow, you’ll lose sight of what’s right in front of you. Namely, dinner that you haven’t even finished and are already fretting about.”
“I don’t fret.”
She waved a serving spoon at me as she plated her own dinner. “Fretting.”
Ivy
New York. Of course he’d be going to New York, the one place I swore I’d never return to. And why was I even thinking about the fact that this guy would be leaving in the morning to move on with his life, a life so different from mine? I needed to take my own damn advice.
I loved feeding people. It made me irrationally happy. And I loved watching Patrick enjoy his food. It warmed my heart. I was also coming around to the button-down shirt thing. He’d loosened up a little, leaving his shirt untucked and rolling up the sleeves, revealing his strong forearms, manufactured or not. His dark hair looked finger combed and touchable. And he’d left the scruff on his face. Speaking of things that make me irrationally happy.
“All right, so when are you gonna tell me?”
I raised my eyes to his. “What? Tell you what?”
He waved his fork around. “Your story. You have to have a hell of a story.”
I laughed a little. “Maybe. Doesn’t everyone?”
He nodded. “They do. So what’s yours?”
I took a couple of bites of food while I thought about how to begin. “Well, I had always planned to be a doctor. I grew up in New York, actually, right in the city.” A flash of surprise crossed his face. I was used to that reaction. It was one reason I didn’t bring it up often. “My brother was born really ill. To this day, they don’t know why. He died when I was eight.” I shrugged my shoulders, pushing away the ache that always settled when I spoke of my family. “From early on, I wanted to be a doctor so I could help people. Heal people. I guess maybe I thought I could do something the other doctors couldn’t. Egotistical, right?”
Patrick met my eyes but didn’t laugh. “Not really. It’s supposed to be admirable.”
I shrugged. “That’s kind of the same thing. Anyway, that was my thing all growing up. A few years later, my dad died from a heart attack. The stupid thing was he knew he needed to take better care of himself, and he just didn’t. At first I was mad at his doctors for not saving him, for not stopping it from happening. He was on all these drugs and pills, but he never simply changed the crap he was eating. Or exercised. After I started med school, I mostly just felt sorry for his doctors for having to figure out a way to treat someone who didn’t want to put the effort in to treating himself.”
“Wait, you went to med school?”
I nodded. “Yep. I did. And graduated.”
Patrick stared out into space. “In New York?”
“Yep.”
“But you’re not a doctor.”
“Nope.”
“How is that possible?”
“Couple of years in, my mom was diagnosed with a really aggressive form of cancer.”
He stared up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at me with pity in his eyes. I wasn’t one for pity. “Jesus.”
“Don’t blame him. He’s the good part.”
“I’m not”—he shook his head as if to clear it—“go on.”
“Anyway, I think I stayed in school and finished mostly because of my mom. She was so proud of me. But I took some time off right after graduation to be with her at the end. She passed a few weeks later.” I blinked away the start of tears that always came up when I thought about my mom. “She was a great mom.”
Patrick smiled sadly. “I’m sure she was. To have raised someone like you.”
I smirked a little. “She was a saint to have had to deal with me.”
“I’m sure.”
I laughed, glad for the lightening of the mood.
“Anyway,” I continued, drawing a deep breath. “I’d only planned to take a break. But the day after her funeral, I stood there, looking at my entire family buried in front of me, and I left. And I wound up here. I guess I assumed I was gonna go pretty soon too. Clearly our family doesn’t have the longevity gene.” I played with the food on my plate, taking a couple of bites. “I drove aimlessly for days before winding up in this town. Everyone was so welcoming, and the lifestyle is… just breathtaking. Being here actually allowed me to breathe. The people… they’re farmers. Honest-to-goodness people making things that I thought you had to buy in a store. I started out wanting to learn everything. To take control of my life and my body. I wanted to do everything I could to not die of something I could prevent. And then I wanted to share it with others, even if it’s only for a little while. So here I am.”
I met Patrick’s eyes once more. They were studying me intently, searching.
“That’s an incredible story,” he said.
“Not so incredible. Shit happens to people all the time.”
“But you changed everything. Gave up everything.”
I cocked my head to the side, considering his words. “I didn’t give up anything. I gained a life I didn’t even know existed.” I set my fork down and took a sip of wine. “Let me ask you something. If you had it to do all over again, school, residency, all that, would you?”
He leaned back in his chair and held his wineglass by the stem, watching the golden colors swirl around with the reflection of the candlelight.
“I don’t actually know.”
Chapter 7
Patrick
The rest of our dinner proceeded comfortably, with no more deep conversations about our lives. Because what we did discuss was probably enough to fill a week. What was left unsaid was enough to fill a lifetime.
Before I knew it, the food was gone and Ivy stood to clear our plates. I stopped her with a hand.
“You cook, I clean,” I offered.
She furrowed her brows. “I could never handle that. How ’bout we tag team?”
I nodded and stood, picking up dishes and carrying them to the sink.
“I’ll wash, you dry.”
I pulled on her rubber gloves and turned the faucet on to start heating. I began soaping up a pan and passed it over to her after rinsing. She didn’t grab it right away, and I turned in question. She was… smirking.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. You look good in those.”
I glanced down at the hot pink rubber encasing my hands and winked at her.
“I’ll admit it’s a look not many men can pull off. You have to be very sure of your masculinity. That’s not something I have an issue with.”
She thoughtfully started drying the pan and set it aside while I continued washing.
“Let me ask you something.” Her words came slowly, building up to something I knew was gonna be good. “Do you own any pink- or salmon-colored clothing?”
I snorted, laughing, and squirted her quickly with the hose from the sink, making her shriek and leap away. She was crouched behind her dish towel, laughing at me.
I continued pointing the hose at her just in case I felt like pulling the trigger one more time. “No. I don’t wear pink. You know, where I’m from, most people just think I dress nice.”
“You do,” she called from behind her rag. “It’s su
per sexy. But, like, all the time? You’re on a road trip, for Pete’s sake.”
My shoulders started shaking, and I had to rest my hands on the edge of the sink to support myself as I laughed silently.
“I promise as soon as I get to New York I’ll get some T-shirts. Will that satisfy you?”
She stood and snapped the towel at me.
“Yes, smarty-pants. It would help, anyway. Learn to let your hair down.”
“What do you think I’m doing here?”
“I’m not so sure this was enough time to change your ways.”
I playfully tugged on her braid. “Don’t be so sure about that.”
Our eyes met and held; her breath hitched ever so slightly. I gave one more small tug on the end of her hair before turning back to the sink with a shaky breath. Never in my life had I had such an intense attraction, coupled with an instant friendship. I felt like I’d known her for years instead of mere hours.
We finished up the rest of the dishes in easy banter, the feelings warring in me alternating between familiar and really fucking strange. Maybe it was the familiarity and easiness of everything that made it so strange.
I reluctantly placed the last glass in the cabinet overhead. Ivy dried her hands on her towel and turned toward me, propping a hip on the counter and regarding me with a raised brow.
“Well, here, I’ll walk you over to the main house,” she offered after an awkward pause.
I shrugged. “That’s okay. I can go myself. Otherwise I’d have to offer to walk you back here, and then we’d go back and forth and neither of us would get any rest.”
She chuckled at me.
“Thank you,” I said. “For dinner and for… everything. This was great.”
“You’re welcome.” A wide smile lit up her face, making her look even younger and more fresh. “Change your life?”
I nodded. “Safe to say.”
“Do you need anything over there?”
“I can’t imagine I do. I think you’re too organized to allow that to happen. I’ll… uh, see you in the morning?”
“Sleep well, city.” She nodded, still smiling.
I felt like I should kiss her good night. I wanted to at least cradle her face in my hands and brush my lips across her cheek. But I wasn’t sure how well that would be received, so I just smirked and gave her a wink before turning to leave. I could feel her watching me until the door swung shut. Hands in my pockets, I shuffled my way down the path lit only by the moon and a smattering of stars. Halfway to my lodging, I stopped and stared up at the sky. It made me feel like a kid again, looking for constellations and searching in vain for a shooting star. In the city though, you couldn’t see nearly as well. I thought maybe out here I had a shot at seeing one but gave up after a few minutes of making myself dizzy. It suddenly struck me that I hadn’t thought about smoking since earlier in the afternoon. And I didn’t… want one. I took a deep breath of the clear country air before moving on.
I reached the main house, flipping on a few extra lights as I entered. It was a big house to be alone in, and manly or not, I was a little creeped out. Especially when I realized there wasn’t even a lock on the back door.
I rifled around the enormous kitchen for a while, but I wasn’t actually hungry. Just bored. There was no television anywhere, which was weird but made sense because of Ivy. So eventually I went into my assigned room and got ready for bed, even though I wasn’t at all tired. I took my time brushing my teeth and stripping off my clothes, laying them neatly over the back of a chair. Then I crawled into the most comfortable damn bed I’d ever been in. My whole body sighed with relief as I sank under the covers. And then I lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what Ivy was doing.
Wondering if her own bed was this comfortable.
Wondering what she slept in.
Wondering why the hell she asked if I’d ever had a one-night stand.
I shot upright, running my hands through my hair. Why did she ask that?
Without giving myself any more time to think, I jumped out of bed and threw my clothes back on, stepped into my shoes and ran, yes ran, out the door. A short distance from her house, I broke into a walk so it didn’t look as though I’d been sprinting there like an idiot. Especially if she turned me away.
All the lights were still on, and I heard music strumming through her open windows. As I got closer, I saw her gently swaying on the porch swing, sipping a glass of wine while Dimple snoozed on a bed by the railing. She couldn’t see me yet in the darkness, couldn’t hear me over the music, so I had a chance to watch her. I’d never seen someone so comfortable being alone, and I couldn’t figure out if that was admirable or a little sad. Maybe both.
As I got closer, I cleared my throat to alert her to my presence. She popped out of her swing, setting her glass beside her.
“You okay?” she asked. “Need anything?”
She walked to the edge of the porch steps as I walked up them, meeting her at the top. I placed a hand on her hip and pulled her against me. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, and I let my gaze linger there just briefly before meeting her eyes.
“I have to leave tomorrow,” I said, one hand coming up to cradle her face.
She nodded swiftly. “I know.”
“But I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you right now.”
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” She let her lips curve up into a smile.
“Completely.”
Ivy
Our lips crashed together, stealing my breath entirely. Tongues tangled as we drank each other in. My body had a mind of its own, pressing tightly against him. When his hands traveled down to cup my ass, I hopped up, straddling his waist in an effort to get as close to him as I could.
He started walking, breaking our kiss just momentarily to get us through the door before claiming my mouth once again. We stumbled into the couch, and I burst out laughing when I kicked a lamp that he caught just in the nick of time. We paused to catch our breaths, foreheads resting together. I didn’t want to take too much time to think this through, or my nerves would get the best of me.
I hadn’t had sex in over four years. All through college, I was a relationship kind of girl. And I was in college for a long time. I’d had two serious, long-term boyfriends. That was it. Well, I guess they weren’t that serious since I never gave them a passing thought. But I’d never felt… this. This strange pull that happened so quickly.
Lust.
I unlocked my legs from around his waist and dropped to my toes. Linking our hands together, I turned and led him into my room, not bothering with a light. There was a glow from the porch that allowed us to see, but not too much.
I turned back to Patrick, who was watching me intently, no doubt picking up on my nerves. But then he smiled the smile I’d seen developing all afternoon and evening. The one that was so honest and genuine and sexy, and my nerves melted away. I brazenly stripped off my shirt and bra and pushed my shorts off, kicking them aside.
His eyes raked my body, and I felt it every place they landed. When he reached a hand out to skim down my side, I skipped a breath and felt a jolt travel down to my toes. He continued to study me, slowly allowing his fingers to drift over me. Up my neck, down over my shoulders, around my abdomen, and back up my spine. Goose bumps rose on my skin as every brush of his hand sensitized me further. My breath started coming faster, catching up to my erratic heartbeat. When he finally, finally, reached my breasts, my eyes fell shut, unable to take the intensity of his gaze along with the sensations rushing over me.
He stepped closer and his hands caressed my back, pulling me against his clothes. His lips started pressing soft kisses down my neck, moving slowly, in no apparent hurry. My head fell to the side to allow him better access. The feel of my soft skin against the rough denim o
f his jeans and the starch of his shirt was incredibly erotic, and I squirmed against it.
His lips and hands continued to work their magic, alternately relaxing and exciting me. But he was still dressed. I pulled away, no easy feat, and crawled onto my bed.
“Your turn,” I said, gesturing to his clothes.
He grinned at me and complied, lazily unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders. He kicked off his shoes and pushed down his jeans, revealing all of himself to me. My breath came out in a whoosh as I stared at the whole package. And I do mean the whole package.
I swallowed hard and reached into my side table where, sure enough, Connie had placed what looked to be a lifetime supply of rubbers. I tried to push that thought out of my head as I tossed one on the middle of the bed toward Patrick.
He climbed onto the mattress, balancing on his knees as he tore the foil open and rolled the condom on. It really shouldn’t have been so… hot. Condoms weren’t hot. But it just was, and I couldn’t stop watching. He crawled toward me, gliding his hand up my leg, pushing my thighs apart. They fell with embarrassing ease. He pressed kisses to them, working his way up to my hip bone, and I gasped when his teeth lightly scraped it. He paid the other one the same attention, and I writhed on the mattress, silently begging him to touch me where it counted the most.
But he didn’t listen. Instead he continued to tease, watching my reactions, paying attention, reveling in my responses. Finally the backs of his fingers started to drift down my belly and kept moving. He touched me so lightly it bordered on painful. His fingers deftly parted my folds, never rushing, never increasing pressure even when I squirmed and writhed in desperation. I was panting shamelessly, caught between wanting more, harder, faster and wanting him to keep teasing, drawing it out.
He kept up his torture, tracing small circles, making every nerve stand on edge, and when his tongue faintly traced my nipple, I was lost, exploding into space, crying out against the fierce passion consuming me.
