by Aliyah Burke
“Well, that was better than any ice cream,” he said huskily. She could feel his breath on her lips when he spoke.
“I dropped mine,” she said. It was the only thought she could formulate.
“We should clean that up and get you back to your hotel,” Oliver said before he kissed her again. “I can’t seem to stop kissing you.”
“That’s okay, I like it,” she said between kisses.
Oliver finally pulled away. “Okay, I should show some control, but damn, you could be addictive.”
Grace smiled. “That’s the first time anyone has said that to me.”
“Then every man you ever knew were all idiots,” he replied. “Let me get that ice cream in the trash and I’ll walk you home.”
“You owe me an ice cream cone, so you know. Kissing me and making be drop it is technically your fault,” she teased.
He moved with the extra napkin to grab the remnants of the cone from the red cobblestone that surrounded the fountain.
Oliver looked up at her. “I think we can work that out.”
They walked and talked on the way back to her hotel and, outside, he kissed her long and deep once more.
“See me tomorrow, let me make you dinner,” he asked as he held her close.
“I’d like that.” Grace smiled up at him. “You know I never expected this when I came out tonight, but I’m glad I saw you there.”
“Me too. I’ll pick you up at six, if that works for you?” Oliver asked.
“It works perfectly, and is it okay if I wear shorts?” she asked.
He put his hand over his heart. “Keep talking, woman, and I’m taking you home right now.”
She laughed. “Goodnight, Oliver, and thanks you for making a wingwoman’s night a lovely one.”
He kissed her once more. “Night, Grace, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
She looked back at him before she walked through the glass doors that led to the main lobby of the hotel. He waved once before putting his hands in his pockets and walking back in the direction of the club. Of course he’d have to go get his car and collect Jason, she thought, putting aside the idea that he was heading back to continue his night at the club. He didn’t strike her as that type of guy. He was a blunt, no-frills, sees what he wants and goes after it kind of man. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she’d met someone genuine.
* * * *
“I have never seen you move so fast to get dressed to go out,” Erika teased. “Or buy sandals and another cute blouse.”
“He asked me out, I want to look nice,” Grace said with a smile.
In all honesty, she was nervous and excited all at the same time. After she went to bed that night, she lay between the thin covers thinking about his kiss and the way they connected so easily.
“So he’s an older man, experienced, and forty. You okay with that?” Erika asked as she watched her buckle her sandals on the bed. She’d chosen to wear a pink blouse with frilly-capped sleeves and blue jeans cutoffs. She pulled her hair to a high ponytail and simple silver earrings. With the heat, she thought less makeup would be best and went with just lip gloss and some liner for her eyes.
Grace looked up from her task. “I’m fine with all of it. Guys my age, or hell, early thirties can act like children sometimes. He’s got his life in order and doesn’t need to play games. And the fact that he’s older and sexy to boot is a win-win. I’ve always had a thing for older men but never took the leap. Besides, a thirteen year difference isn’t that bad.”
“Then, sweetie, you take that leap.” Erika laughed. “Jason is kind of cool too, but we are just kicking it. You know me, I’m not the one to be tied down.”
Grace shook her head. “One of these days love is going to grab hold of you.”
Erika looked at her nails and said casually, “I’ll put it in a choke hold and an arm flip and leave it lying in the dust.”
“Okay, ninja warrior. I’m heading out. See you when I get back,” Grace said with humor in her voice.
“If you do come home,” Erika snickered. “Enjoy the night.”
“I’m coming home,” Grace said firmly. “I’ll check in and you do too. Text my cell.”
“Yes, Mom.” Erika got up and gave her a hug. “Now get out of here and go have all types of fun.”
Grace gave her a quick squeeze. “See you later.”
The hotel was set up with the rooms, but in a square, leaving the middle open for a koi pond, trees, and a desert-type landscape theme. By the time she walked from their room through the serene area and to the main lobby, there was a red truck parked out front and Oliver leaned on the passenger door. The sun gleamed off the polished surface of the vehicle, but it was Oliver who caught her attention. He was wearing a pair of sleek Oakley sunglasses, a casual t-shirt and heralded a classic rock band, and army green cargo pants.
“Hey, you,” he said with a smile.
Grace smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. “Hi, Oliver, this is a complete different look than your uniform from last night.”
Oliver looked down at his clothes. “I do own a few pieces of casual clothes. Don’t like it?”
“I do, it works for you,” she answered. “So, where are we off to?”
“I was going to cook for you at my place, if that’s okay,” Oliver said.
“I…don’t know,” she said doubtfully. “I really don’t know you that well to be going to your apartment.”
“It’s on base and you’d have to show your ID at the main gate. You can text my address to your friend and, if you get uncomfortable, we can leave,” he cajoled. “But no pressure. We can find somewhere in town to eat.”
Grace chewed her bottom lip doubtfully. “Red Lobster, and all those places are so packed, we usually have to order food and pick up… I guess it’s okay.” She held up a finger. “But if you are expecting anything…”
Oliver lifted his sunglasses up and looked at her before he took her finger and kissed it. “Nothing will happen that either of us don’t want. I’m not that type of guy, Grace.”
“I very rarely say this, but I trust you, Oliver,” Grace answered simply. “So let’s go and you show me what you can do in the kitchen.”
He grinned. “I will make your mouth water, I promise.”
You already do. Grace kept that thought to herself as he helped her into the truck and closed the door. As soon as Oliver got in, he turned the key and the engine gunned to life. The air conditioning kicked out cool refreshing air. The radio came on and filled the air with the sound of sensual jazz.
‘This would’ve been much better last night in the club,” she commented.
“You’re right. Unfortunately, since I’ve been here, I’ve seen clubs spring up and go away. None of them has been a smoky jazz club where I could enjoy a bourbon and listen to soulful music,” Oliver replied.
Grace looked at him. “Wow, that was almost poetic.”
“Hey, I’ve got the soul of an artist in me,” he teased. “I actually do like to sketch and paint in my spare time, not that there’s much of that.”
“I’m known to haunt museums instead of shopping when we go to Portland, much to the horror of my friend,” Grace told him.
Oliver checked the road before he made the turn to head to the base. “How do you like small town living?”
“My family was originally from Philadelphia and we moved to Eugene for my father to be principal of the high school,” Grace explained. ‘They hated it and I loved it. They went back to Philly when I was in college and I actually got a loan to buy the house from them because I didn’t want to go back.”
“Wow, that’s a lot of responsibility for a young woman,” Oliver said. “I guess when you make up your mind, there’s no changing it.”
She laughed. “I’m known for being pigheaded. I didn’t mention it, but I do virtual IT and coding from home and I can work part-time and still run my business.”
“So you’re one of those sexy nerdy hacker types,”
he teased.
Grace plucked at the string on her cutoffs. “I only use my powers for good, I promise.”
After showing their IDs to the military police at the gate of the base, Oliver drove them past the base to where the housing for military personnel was. Those who had families usually lived off base, he explained, because the housing for family was so very little. The waiting list for housing was long for when a MOS changed and the family had to move. It was just easier to buy or rent in town or close to Lawton, especially when some of the housing was pretty small. He pulled up to a set of small townhouse.
When he ushered her inside, she could instantly tell it was for single men or women. It was a one-bedroom and the kitchen was separated from the living room with a half wall. He kept it neat—a simple couch and a recliner sat in the living room and there was a large flat screen TV in the corner. On the walls there were art pieces and some pictures of classic jazz big bands in black and white with hints of gold. There were also a few older pictures of military men in a row and his field artillery banner. All were framed and behind glass.
“It’s small, but then it’s military housing,” he said.
“I like it, you made it yours,” Grace said, looking around. “I like your art as well. It’s all so you.”
He came up behind her and she was very aware of his body close to hers. “See, I wasn’t lying.”
She turned and there was only a step between them. “I didn’t think you were.”
“I’ve been thinking about nothing except the kiss we shared,” he said huskily. “May I have another before I start dinner?”
“Yes, you may.”
Grace took that one step and she was against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes when his lips touched hers and sank into the kiss they shared. He tasted her, lovingly sipping at her lips and tempting her to do the same. Heat pooled between her legs as he pulled her closer and took the kiss deeper until she was aching. But it was Grace who stepped away and took a deep, shuddering breath.
After a few seconds, she spoke. “You are way too good at that.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I’m glad I affect you just as you affect me. Would you like a glass of wine? You can watch me make you a divine meal.”
“I would like that,” she said.
Oliver led her to one of the two stools by the bar type wall that separated the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and uncorked it before pouring her a glass. He took a remote from the top of the fridge and soon more smooth jazz was playing softly in the background.
“What’s on the menu, Chef?” Grace asked. She took a sip of the wine and found it sweet with a fruity flavor.
“Roasted chicken with a mushroom marsala wine sauce, asparagus, and creamy mashed potatoes,” Oliver announced.
Grace was amazed. “Wow, that is fancy. I’m afraid to ask what’s for dessert.”
“Strawberry cupcakes and cream from the exchange,” Oliver put a Sautee pan on the stove and poured a small amount of olive oil in the bottom of the pan. “But you have to taste my basked Alaska some time or molten lava cake. It is to die for.”
Intrigued, she asked, “Who taught you to cook like this?”
“My dad was a chef before he bounced out of my life at sixteen.” He continued to cook as he spoke and didn’t look at her. “My mom died and he couldn’t handle it, so one day I came home and he was gone.”
“Oh, Oliver, I’m sorry.” Grace couldn’t fathom her life without her parents as she grew up.
“Nah, it was fine,” he said, casually even though she could hear the tightness in his voice. “He left a nest egg and my aunt Joanna raised me. I sold the house when I was old enough and never went back there and joined the military. When Aunt Jo died, I pulled up stakes in Virginia and took whatever position they sent me to.”
“Sounds tough not having roots and a place to settle,” Grace commented.
He glanced at her and smiled. “Maybe I will now, one day.”
His words implied much more and she tried not to think about it as they spoke.
“So, do you know where your father is now?” Grace asked.
“Yep, and he tried to contact me a few times with apologies,” Oliver replied. “He bailed when I needed him the most. I don’t want to hear from that man. Enough about me, what about you?”
“I told you about my life and my parents, except now they don’t live in Philly. The cold was too much for my dad’s hip. They are living in St. Croix now in a little beach house.” She took a sip of her wine. “The love it there and I visited once or twice.”
“Living on a beach, I’d be there more than once or twice,” Oliver said.
“I’m not much of a beach and sand person. I like cold and snow and winter,” Grace explained. The apartment was taking on a lively smell and her stomach rumbled lowly, reminding her she ate only once that day while they worked. “In any case, I started at the HRO like four years ago, and along with my shop and my job, I keep pretty busy.”
“Do you ever go to any of the places that you send aid to?”
“I’ve done a couple, but I like to be behind the scenes.” Grace sighed. “I have a very soft-hearted personality and seeing people suffer, especially children, I can’t stand it, and I can’t be objective. I’m sure you’ve seen some things in deployments and understand.”
“I do, but in some cases people use kids in ways there that make me so fucking angry…” Oliver shook his head. “Okay, no more sadness. We are here for a nice dinner and I can stare at you over candlelight.”
“There’s candlelight?” she asked with a laugh.
“Oh, honey, there is definitely candlelight.” He grinned and pulled two candlesticks with the prices still on from a lower cupboard.
“Hmm, those look fairly new,” she teased.
He leaned over the counter and gave her a quick kiss. “I was inspired.”
The dinner he made was delicious and, true to his word, he did light candles even though the sun was far from going down. It was the height of summer and she noticed that, in Oklahoma, it was well after nine before twilight hit. But Oliver pulled the shades and the ambience was nice as they ate. The talked about a little bit of everything, from art to even cartoons, and he made her laugh with what he called was his famous impression of Bugs Bunny. He wouldn’t allow her to help him clean up after dinner. Instead, she was sent to sit on the sofa and enjoy a second glass of wine.
She could say it was the wine that made her relax, but she’d eaten and her head was clear. It was the connection they seemed to share, the way they were so easy around each other, and the attraction she felt anytime he was near. He caught her staring while he was in the kitchen and gave her a wink. He was right, she made clear, decisive choices with the information she had and didn’t look back. Her mother always told her when the right guy came along it didn’t matter if it was two hours or two weeks, that she should hold on with both hands. After a few failed relationships, she doubted it very much. Right now, Grace knew she had made the choice from the time she got into his truck. They had something good, something that could be built on. She wanted him. Grace put her heart back out there, and hoped to God she was making the right decision. He came over to stand in front of her holding two plates with cupcakes, cream, and fresh strawberries.
“Ready for dessert?” Oliver asked.
She stood and took the plates from his hand and put them on the bar area where they’d eaten dinner.
“I’m ready for a different kind of dessert if you are,” she said simply as she turned to him.
“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about….” he said as he stepped closer.
She smiled and slid her arm up his chest. “I am, but nothing won’t happen that you don’t want to happen.”
He laughed before he took her lips in a hard kiss that left her reeling. When Oliver lifted his head, their breathing was labored. He looked down at her as if searchin
g her face for doubts, and when he saw none, took her hand and led her upstairs.
Chapter Three
Oliver pulled her into his arms and kissed her like he needed her taste to survive. He loved how she was so giving with herself, molding her body against his as they started the intimate dance. He wished it wasn’t his little apartment they were in, that he was kissing her while the stars gleamed overhead through a skylight in a fancy hotel and the moonlight caressed her skin. The thought floored him because he’d never thought like that about any woman before. Oliver took a few steps back and she was against the wall. The heat of their kiss gained intensity and she moved as he ran his hands up her thighs to cup her ass and lift her higher against him while her back was pinned against the wall.
