City Beautiful

by CM Foss

  “Thank God. I knew I trained you better than that.”

  He looked at me over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched high. “Get your ass over here so I can train you for once.”

  He had an array of vegetables in front of him, waiting with my best knife in hand.

  “You know how to use that thing?” I asked as I sidled up to the counter.

  “Yeah, I’m good with my tools.”

  I snorted and took it from him, carefully. He stepped back just enough to allow me in front of him, but not enough to give me any real space. His arms were braced on either side of me, bringing my senses to life. His chest was against my back, rock solid and hot. I allowed myself a brief, indulgent moment to lean against it.

  I began cutting peppers into thin red strips, trying to concentrate on not slicing my fingers.

  “How’s the hospital hunt going?”

  “Um… I have some interest. I have to wait on my state license to come through, but that shouldn’t be long. I filled out all the paperwork.”

  “What about a place to live? Are you going to find a place in town?”

  “Nope.” He emphasized the word with a pop.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’re just planning on staying here?”

  “Yep.” He snagged a pepper and crunched it between his teeth.

  I set the knife aside and turned to face him. “In my guest room?”

  “Just for now.”

  “That’s not how dating is done.”

  He winked. “We’re not normal dating.”

  “This is way harder than it looks.” I threw up my hands at my third mangled roll.

  Patrick chuckled as he watched me struggle. “Now you see why I bought so much stuff.”

  I flicked a kernel of rice toward him, laughing when he ducked away. “Help me.”

  His eyes widened and he grinned. “I’m sorry. What was that? What was that word you used? You need…”

  I glared at him through narrowed eyes, lips tight to prevent a smile from escaping. “You heard me.”

  “No… I don’t think I did. Try me again.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Will. You. Please. Help. Me.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Once again, his arms came around either side of me, his chest pressed to my back, and I sighed at the contentment that spread over me at his presence. He placed his hands on mine and helped me roll up the… well, the roll. I wasn’t paying any attention to the stupid sushi anymore. I was watching his hands. I wasn’t even pretending to help.

  “Am I doing this for you?” he murmured, dipping his head down to brush his lips across my neck.

  I cleared my throat. “Yep.”

  He nudged me teasingly with his hips, and I had to squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache and also keep from melting into a puddle on the floor.

  A rush of cold swept over me when he stepped away. “Ready to cut?”

  “Huh?” I blinked rapidly and saw a tightly rolled… roll lying in wait. “Oh. Yeah.” Thoroughly distracted, I picked up a knife and cut several discs, revealing all the shapes and colors inside. I wiggled my hips in excitement and squeaked. “They’re so pretty.”

  I frowned as he cut his own, much tidier bites. No fair.

  We took plates to the couch, piled high with all the necessary accoutrements, and sat side by side. Patrick passed me a set of chopsticks, and we tapped them together without thinking. Funny how some things just come naturally.

  I popped the first bite into my mouth, and my eyes went wide and started tearing as I instantly regretted that move. It was huge. I clamped a hand over my mouth as I whimpered and laughed, trying to keep my lips wrapped around the roll and attempting to chew.

  Patrick watched with a smirk, smoothly downing his own bite with zero struggle. He pointed at me with his chopsticks.

  “I love you.”

  I froze, my heart hammering in my chest, an enormous piece of sushi still in my mouth, threatening to choke or suffocate me.

  He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. I just sat there in a stupor, barely blinking. He winked as he returned to eating. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything right now.” Smug bastard.

  Chapter 31

  Patrick

  Me: Miss me?

  Ivy: Fishing again?

  Me: A little…

  Ivy: How’s New York?

  Me: Dumb.

  Ivy: You ’bout done?

  Me: Almost. Same dude who bought my car bought all my furniture. Is that weird?

  Ivy: Yeah. It is.

  Me: I’m a little creeped out.

  Ivy: Is all your crap gonna fit in my house? I’ve never lived with anyone else, and I don’t share well.

  Me: Yes, crazy. I’m down to about two boxes of crap. That’s it.

  Ivy: Hardly worth the trip.

  Me: How’s your hand?

  Ivy: Cast is off! It feels weird, and it’s puny.

  Me: I can’t wait to see.

  Ivy: That’s weird.

  Me: I’ll be back late afternoon. Be ready for a date.

  Ivy: You didn’t ask.

  Me: You didn’t say no.

  Ivy: Get some rest.

  Me: Night, beautiful.

  Ivy: Night, city.

  “More daisies? Must be a date night.”

  I lowered the bouquet so I could see over top of it. Ivy stood before me, hands on her hips, a smirk on her face. “You love them.”

  “I do. They’re cheery.”

  Walking in, I swept her into a kiss, bending her back over my arm as I ravished her mouth before pulling away, leaving her breathless. Both of us breathless. I ran my hand down her arms and picked up her right hand, cast-free, turning it over to study it. I pressed my lips to her palm.

  “I love you.”

  She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips to try to hide a grin. I wasn’t even bothered that she hadn’t said those words back. I knew she felt it and was waiting for her own time. Meanwhile, I said them as often as possible.

  “What’s tonight’s plan?”

  “I’m taking you off the farm tonight.”

  She took in my gray slacks and french-cuffed shirt and glanced down at herself, wrinkling her nose. She looked cute and casual in black leggings and a blousy green top. “Should I change?”

  “Yes. Go put a dress on. And grab a jacket. It’s chilly outside.”

  “Are we going to be outside?”

  “Some. And in a tent.”

  “Like a camping tent?”

  “Yes. I’m asking you to put on a dress to go camping, you dork. Come on. Change and let’s go or we’ll be late.”

  “Don’t you wanna unpack? Or take a nap?”

  “What? No.” I swatted her on the ass, making her jump as she trotted away laughing. I loved that she felt good enough to do that. “I want to see what you look like away from this place and see if I still like you.”

  She snorted but went to change. I fidgeted around while she took her sweet time, putting the flowers in a vase and giving them water. I should have been tired. I’d quickly showered and changed at the main house after driving for ten hours in a new SUV packed with things from my apartment. I didn’t care about any of it, but I did need to tie up loose ends there and get my security deposit back. It was a weight off my chest to have that chapter of my life closed. I felt like I could truly move forward.

  But I didn’t want to unpack yet because I didn’t want to move into the spare bedroom. I wanted in on the main one.

  Finally she emerged in a knee-length black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She’d applied some light makeup and twisted her hair up in some messy, artistic way, exposing th
e graceful lines of her neck. All it did was make me want to pull it loose and wind my fingers into it. Her sleeves were positioned off the shoulder, and all they made me want to do was strip her naked, save the ankle boots, and…

  “What? This okay?” She caught me staring and was plucking at her top with a furrowed brow.

  I gave myself a mental shake, quelling the naked thoughts. For now. This was our third date, after all.

  “Yeah.” I chuckled. “It’s okay.”

  We walked out and climbed into her truck, since my SUV still had all the crap in it. She took my hand as we drove like it was the most natural thing in the world. I thought back to not so long ago when we were anything but. So this was dating…

  “Where are we going?” she asked after driving for several miles in the opposite direction of town.

  “You’ll see.” I gave her hand a squeeze.

  Another several miles later, we pulled up to a field full of cars. Ivy’s eyes were narrowed as she scanned the area, then brightened when she saw the tent in the distance. She bounced in her seat. “The opera-in-a-field thing. I’ve always wanted to go, but I’ve never remembered to get tickets. How did you know?”

  I pulled out the paper tickets and passed them over to her as I parked the truck and slid into my sports coat with a smile. “I have my ways.”

  She paused as I helped her out of her seat, running her hands over the lapels and leaning in to brush her lips across mine. “Thank you.”

  Ivy

  “That was a damn good date, city.” I breezed in the front door and kicked off my boots. Dimple immediately picked one up and trotted away with it.

  Patrick picked me up and spun me around before setting me back on my feet and kissing the tip of my nose. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  My heart skipped a beat as I looked in his deep green eyes that were darkening with each beat. They were filled with such lust. But also such love. Such honesty. I wished my eyes could speak that clearly so my words wouldn’t have to.

  “It’s our third date, you know. Isn’t there some kind of rule about that?”

  He laughed softly as he pulled me in for a kiss. His mouth was warm and soft, teasing and coaxing. The stubble on his jaw scraped deliciously against my sensitive skin, and when his tongue traced the seam of my lips, my mouth parted in a soft gasp.

  His hand cupped my cheek, then slid to tangle in my hair, tugging it away from my scalp and pulling it free. Pins flew everywhere as it tumbled down. His lips stilled for a moment, and I felt him smile. It made my heart flutter in response.

  His grip tightened in my hair, and his lips crashed back into mine, stealing my breath. My thoughts were swept away by the feel of him and his passion for me. His tongue touched mine, and he sucked in a harsh breath at the sensation. I let my hands wander his shoulders and his chest, feeling the ridges of his muscles through his starchy shirt. My fingers found the first button, and I began working furiously to unfasten each one, suddenly desperate to touch him, skin on skin. But he stilled me with a firm grip as he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair.

  I was panting and light-headed, my whole body was flushed and my thighs were damp beneath my dress. My mind was clouded with lust, and I blinked several times to clear it. “Why are we stopping? Nothing hurts on me, I swear.”

  He gave a small huff of laughter. “It’s not that, though that’s good. I should have thought of that. I just… I don’t want this to just be… a third date thing, you know?”

  I frowned, rubbing my hand on my forehead. “But you’re moving in with me. I think we’re past the third date thing, don’t you?”

  “I am. I definitely am. Are you?” His eyebrows were drawn together. His hands were stuffed into his pockets as if they needed the restraint. He looked so concerned, almost boyish and not at all his usual, cocky self.

  I stepped closer and cupped his face in my hands, using my thumb to smooth the crease between his brows. “I love you. I’m sorry I haven’t said the words. But you have to know I’ve felt it. I’ve felt it through all this. From meeting you, to carrying your child, through losing your child, and through you bringing me back to life. But I don’t love you because of all that. I just love… you.” I chuckled softly. “Maybe even in spite of all that.”

  His hands returned to my waist, smoothing down over my ass and pulling me close. He leaned down to rest our foreheads together and blew out a deep breath, his entire body deflating. “Say it again.”

  My lips curved into a smile. “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  I rocked up on my toes and offered my lips to him, which he readily accepted. For a moment.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, leaning back.

  I groaned and spun out of his arms. “Why?” I whined.

  “We can’t have sex now.”

  “What?” I gaped at him.

  “Because then it seems like you just said all that to get laid.” His voice was serious but there was a mischievous glint to his eyes.

  “Do you still have a penis, or did you lose it somewhere, along with your mind?”

  He stalked over to me and lifted me into the air; my legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and my arms wrapped around his neck to cling tight. “I’ll show you my penis.”

  I snorted in laughter as he carried me easily out of the living room and into the darkness of my… our bedroom. He dropped me to my toes for only the amount of time it took to strip off my dress and get rid of his own pants and then we were back to seeing just how close we could get. We were pressed together, hands roaming, legs tangling, his hardness pressing into the softness of my belly, and while I was still cautious, remembering the pain from not that long ago, our heat made me feel alive and wanted and loved.

  Patrick pushed me toward the mattress where we fell into a heap of softness. Our kiss never broke and bodies never stopped writhing together. We made love frantically, desperately, urgently. It was as if we knew this was a turning point, that this time meant more than any other time. That everything else was just an accident.

  And when we lay together after, sweaty and breathless and complete, he kissed my hair and tucked me into his arms, his heartbeat steadying mine and stilling my mind from the millions of questions racing through it.

  The next morning, I blinked at the harsh rays of sun shining through the slats of the blinds. Patrick’s arm was thrown over my waist, hot and heavy. I stared at it lying across the ugly, red scar that stood out starkly on my bare abdomen. He lifted his arm and skimmed his hand along my ribcage, and then he rested it over the mark. My eyes watered as he pressed his fingers on it gently and shifted to kiss the top of my head.

  “It’s ugly,” I said.

  “It’s not. Nothing on you could ever be ugly.”

  I snorted and pushed myself upright.

  “Of course it is.”

  “It’s ugly what happened. But not the scar. The scar is beautiful because it put you back together.”

  “Only on the outside.”

  “I’m working on the inside.”

  Chapter 32

  Patrick

  “What, am I being demoted?” Ivy pursed her lips as she took the single daisy from my hand and I crossed the threshold.

  “Nope. Definitely not. Grab a jacket.”

  Her eyes were drawn together in confusion as she turned to put the flower in a mason jar.

  “Well a bouquet usually means date night. What does a single mean?”

  “Day date. Don’t overthink it.”

  She shrugged on a jacket as I led her outside. Fall had jumped into winter, and the wind whipped around us, biting and cold.

  “How was your interview?” she asked as we drove out the driveway.

  “Fine. It was fine.”

 
She arched a brow. “Just fine?”

  “You know, it was just another interview.” I shifted in my seat and tugged on the neck of my shirt beneath my jacket. This part I hadn’t thought through. I was a horrible liar. Sweat felt like it was about to pop out on my forehead, and I swiped a hand across it to check.

  She made a hum in the back of her throat but didn’t press for more information. I smiled as I watched her from the corner of my eye; she gazed out the window, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. The past few weeks she’d regained the last of the weight she’d lost, her dark circles faded and disappeared. She had the healthy glow that was so much a part of who she was. There were still moments when she felt the loss, when she hid her scar or a tear. Those were the moments that I took over, gave her my strength and my love and understanding. We would go to David’s grave and talk about the memories so they weren’t secrets that could turn into monsters in the dark. We would eat bacon.

  We made it into town, and I pulled up in front of the local pizza joint. Ivy’s nose was wrinkled in distaste.

  “You’re not taking me to dinner here, are you?”

  “No. I’d never do that.”

  “Phew.”

  “We’re carrying out.”

  I hopped out and slammed my door before she could retort, though I could see her protest through the windshield. I chuckled to myself as I jogged in and paid for the pizza I’d ordered.

  She was still waving her hands in the air when I got back.

  I passed the pizza box over the console and into her hands. You’d have thought it was a rabid animal the way she held it away from her body. I lifted the lid and the scents of tomatoes and garlic and melted cheese wafted out.

  “Come on. This smells delicious.”

  She winced, but gave a cautious sniff. “Okay, it smells good. But mine smells better.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “Do I have to eat it?”