by A. O. Peart
The waiter brings our wine, and we pull away from the kiss. Colin kisses my hand once more, and then hands me my glass. We clink the glasses and smile at each other.
“To the second date,” he says.
“And to all that follows,” I add shyly.
EIGHT
“[Dancing is] a perpendicular expression of a horizontal desire.”
George Bernard Shaw.
I’m nervous, but happy. This is going to be my fourth date with Colin. FOURTH! And, so far, there are no signs of anything going sideways. He’s been attentive and perceptive, never brash or demanding. I really like that. Just as he promised me last week after we visited the photography exhibition, he doesn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable or rushed. I start to feel more and more relaxed with him. I take one tiny step forward after the next toward letting him into my world. But that will take more than the date number four and what it is supposed to end up with.
Our third date was totally casual. We had dinner at Seastar Restaurant in Belltown, and then drove to The Harvard Exit Theater on Capitol Hill, within walking distance from my condo. It was my idea, and Colin loved it. He’s never been to The Harvard Exit. The theater is old and definitely has character, unlike the mainstream ones. We purchased some popcorn to share, and it arrived with real butter and not some artificial goop. I took Colin upstairs, where the balconies are. There were plenty of seats in the front row of the balcony, and we ended up with nobody close by. He held my hand and drew slow circles with his fingers over it, which caused my heart rate to speed up, and my concentration on the movie somehow wavered.
Tonight he invited me to his house. He’s cooking dinner. This is impressive, because I can’t cook anything besides a hardboiled egg or spaghetti with sauce from a jar. But for all I know, we might be eating spaghetti with store-bought sauce tonight. And that’s just fine by me. I don’t expect him to prepare anything fancy. I’m just giddy to spend time with him.
I drove to the address he gave me and parked in front of what I assumed was his house. Quite nice, two-story home in Newcastle—not very big, but neat, with a well-groomed lawn and a fresh coat of paint on the walls. I ring the bell, and Colin opens the door.
“You made it. Come in.” He smiles and tugs me into a tight hug.
“Hi. Great house.” I step over the threshold. Soft music is playing somewhere in the back.
He helps me take my coat off and hangs it in a closet by the door. “Thank you.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Just under a year. Got tired of living in my Edmonds condo. The commute was killing me.”
We walk to the kitchen. I smell something delicious, like some roasted meat with vegetables. He tells me that he prepared honey-cashew chicken over wild rice with basil sauce, and caramelized grilled vegetables.
“Wow. I’m impressed,” I admit. I really am.
“Nah, it’s nothing. I like to cook, but it’s not fun cooking just for myself.” He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “What would you like to drink?”
“What do you recommend?”
“Definitely wine. You said you’re not crazy about white wine, so how about red? Cabernet or Pinot?” Colin lifts two bottles to show me. I’m unfamiliar with either of them, but I choose Pinot. The white label says Marimar Estate.
“Good choice. This one is still dense, but not as full-bodied as the Aurielle.” He points to the Cabernet bottle. “It should go well with our dinner.” He uncorks the wine and pours the deep, dark-red liquid into two large goblets. He gives me one glass and picks up the second for himself.
We smile at each other. My heart decides to flip and flop, and then boing-boing, causing my hands to shake. I lean my back against the kitchen counter, and sniff the appetizing aroma of my wine. Colin drinks his wine, his eyes on me. I take a sip too.
“Very tasty,” I admit. The flavor explodes in my mouth—delicate notes of pomegranate and black cherry with hints of orange peel. The velvet-like fluid gently coats my throat, making me want to try more.
“Glad you like it, Natalie.” The way he pronounces my name makes me shiver in anticipation. Crap, this is our fourth date.
Suddenly, I feel almost like a teenage virgin, all flustered and unsure of herself. I think Colin notices. He proceeds to explain what went into the chicken dish and the sauce. This must be his way of trying to make me less tense. And it’s working. I listen with interest while he explains the process.
He takes me to the table, and I sit down. Colin lights the candles and dims the overhead lights. He goes back to the kitchen and soon brings two plates with food: honey-colored chunks of chicken with bits of cashews sprinkled over them. The chicken is arranged over small mounds of wild rice. A few pieces of grilled carrots, green and yellow zucchini, and I think sweet potatoes add color to the already mouth-watering display. Hell on wheels, the guy can cook!
I’m famished. I should have had lunch today, but I got too busy in the office. If I planned better, I could have brought leftovers from home. The wine is already happily dancing in my head. I better slow down.
“Go ahead.” Colin sits close to me and points to my plate.
“This looks and smells like heaven.” I inhale, closing my eyes for a brief moment.
He refills my wine glass. “Let’s hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
“I honestly have no doubt that it does. But I will let you know,” I say, loading my fork with rice and chicken.
The first bite confirms that this is one of the best dinners I’ve had in a while.
Colin lifts his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side, as if waiting for me to confess.
“Oh, man. This is really amazing,” I talk through a mouthful, covering my mouth with a linen napkin. Yes, he has linen napkins! I mentally scold myself for falling short in the culinary department.
“Good.” His lips twitch and he flashes a wicked smile.
I drink my wine. Our eyes meet and I can’t look away. His gaze is mesmerizing. Oh, no, I’m in trouble. I fiddle with my fork. My heart is beating way too fast. I notice how his chest muscles strain against the fabric of his black t-shirt. His bicep bulges and jumps as he lifts his glass. I have a questionable urge to run my hands over that arm and chest.
“Do you like roses?” he asks quietly, nodding to the vase with bouquet of dark-red roses positioned in the middle of the table.
“Yes. These are gorgeous.” I stand up and smell them.
“I wasn’t sure what flowers you like, and so I thought red roses are usually safe.” He smiles.
“Colin, you didn’t need to worry about that. Although I appreciate the thought.”
He shrugs a little and takes my hand in his. “I wanted to make this evening special.” His voice is low. Seductive?
Holy Mother of Sweet Jesus, I’m about to start hyperventilate. Heat stirs in my belly and lazily drenches all the way to my underwear. These bright-blue eyes half-hooded under his lids tell me exactly what’s on his mind. My own mind eagerly nods her approval. I look at his lips and immediately imagine them on mine, on my neck, along my collarbone. Oh, no, that doesn’t help me keep control.
He’s so close to me, and then he stands up, pulling me to my feet. “Come.”
What’s going on? I obey, keeping my eyes on Colin. He smiles and blows out the candles. We walk to the living room, where upbeat salsa music comes out from the stereo.
“Do you dance salsa?” He stands in front of me, holding my hands in his.
“Some.” I laugh and follow his lead.
Colin’s movements are fluid and sensual. He has an excellent sense of rhythm. I can’t stop beaming, while my eyes keep darting to his swaying to the beat hips. Wow, he can cook and he can dance.
He presses me to him and spins us around twice. I squeal and beseech my feet not to stumble. I’ve taken salsa lessons a few years ago, but I lack practice.
Colin turns us once again. He leads me to swirl on my own under his arm—once, t
wice, three times. I laugh and realize that it is not the wine that makes me happy and unconcerned. It is Colin.
The song ends, and he is enticingly close to me. He looks so endearing and sexy with his messy hair and eyes twinkling with mischief. Another song starts, but we are not dancing. Colin’s hand slides up to the back of my head, and then his lips are on mine. At first he kisses me softly, as if testing my reaction. But I’m not pulling away. I lean to him and return the kiss. His lips part, and I feel his tongue slide along my lower lip. It gently teases for a moment, and then my mouth is under his command, inviting and obeying. I melt into him.
My body, lead by Queen V-Jay-Jay, decides to betray my male-cautious resolve. Treason in full display. I have officially swooned over Colin. And by now I realize that Ali’s fuck buddy advice goes out of the window in a jiffy. I knew it was going to be just like this.
“What am I going to do with you,” he says, gently nibbling on my earlobe. His voice is low and seductive.
“What would you like to do?” I challenge. I know exactly what I’m willing him to do, and so does he. I lean away to look into those clear, blue eyes.
Colin takes my hand in his and leads me toward the staircase. “Let me show you the upstairs then.”
“Is that your pick-up line?” I feign suspicion.
“I think we are past the pick-up line stage.” He snorts, and then grins at me.
I can’t help it but laugh. He makes me feel carefree. I want to believe it’s a good thing.
We climb the stairs to his bedroom. The whole place is meticulous. I’ve never seen a guy’s house that looks as neat as Colin’s. Hell on wheels. The score list is growing rapidly: he can cook, dance, kiss, and keeps his place tidy. And I have a feeling he’s amazing in bed. Well, time to find out.
NINE
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart, and you’ll never walk alone.
Oscar Hammerstein II
“I can’t believe I’ve been dating Colin for two months,” I muse, turning my computer on.
“You finally found your perfect guy, girlfriend.” Ali smiles approvingly. “I’m very happy for you.”
“Thank you. You were right, he’s a keeper.”
“Ha! Told ya.” She smirks. “So are you sure you can take care of that website issue?”
“Yes. Stop pestering me. Go to your dental appointment.” I swat at the air in front of me in an universal gesture scoot, shoo, go away. “I will have Michael look into it. It normally takes one email for him to jump in and start working. That guy is a genius.”
“And we pay him a hefty sum too,” Ali adds.
“That too, but he’s worth every penny. I’m hopeless with anything technical.”
“Me too. Okay, I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” She waves to me and leaves.
My cell phone dings, announcing a new text message. I look at the screen. It’s Colin.
“Do you like them?” it reads.
I stare dumbfounded, not understanding what he’s referring to. Maybe he was texting someone else and by mistake sent this to me? But who? And about what? I eye the message suspiciously.
At that very moment I overhear Ellen, our receptionist, talking with someone. A few seconds later she’s knocking on my office door and enters. Or rather a humongous bouquet of red roses peppered with a white baby-breath flowers enters first, closely followed by Ellen.
“Wow!” I exclaim. “What’s that?”
“It’s for you!” Ellen squeaks excitedly. She places the arrangement on the small table in the corner of my office and turns to look at me. A huge smile splits her face. “They smell so good.”
I stand up and walk over to examine the attached card. I thank Ellen on her way out of my office. The card says, SIXTY ROSES FOR EACH OF THE MAGICAL SIXTY DAYS WITH YOU.
Ohmigod! There is nothing better than a guy who’s not afraid to show his romantic site. I grin like an idiot, burying my nose in the flowers. Yes, they do smell fantastic. I remember the text and rush to my desk. I tap the screen of my phone and write back, “They r absolutely magnificent. Just like u r”
His text arrives almost immediately. “I miss you terribly. Looking forward to Friday”
I type, “Me too xxoo”
This Friday we’re getting together with Caroline and her latest guy, Patrick. A double date is something I’ve never done before, and—frankly speaking—I’m not really excited about it. It’s just weird, but it was Caroline’s idea, and I want to make her happy. I know she likes Patrick a lot, and so I need to show my support. I’ve met him twice, and he seems like a really cool, down-to-earth guy. He’s a manager at some construction company in Seattle. I joked once that Caroline needs to have him wear his tool belt and absolutely nothing else for her. She said this is exactly what she’s planning for one of their dates at her place.
Colin is totally cool with going on that double date with them tomorrow. We are planning to have dinner and drinks and maybe catch a movie afterwards. I smile at the thought of spending time with my BFF and Colin, but push it out of my mind for now to concentrate on work.
Right before I leave for lunch, Colin texts me again. He’s close to Bellevue and wants to have a quick lunch with me. This is so unexpected, and I keep smiling all the way to Good Eats Guys on Bellevue Way. I park my car and see him walking briskly toward me. He yanks my door open and pulls me into a hug. Without saying a word, he kisses me passionately, as if his life depends on it. Wow.
“God, Natalie. I missed you,” he whispers against my hair, and then I feel the tip of his tongue slide over the edge of my ear.
“So I see.” I laugh.
His boyish grin melts my insides. He looks so young and careless; so hopelessly happy. Holy Mother of Sweet Jesus, I’m head-over-heels with this gorgeous man. I hug him fiercely and whisper, “I want you. Now.”
I hear him inhale sharply, and my pulse quickens. “I always want you,” he murmurs, piercing me with his stare. “Are you hungry?”
“Only for you.” What? That was my other mouth speaking.
“Good. But that will have to wait a bit. I have a meeting in an hour. Unless…” He wiggles his eyebrows and chuckles.
“Unless what?” I laugh.
“Unless we snatch a hotel room for a bit. But there is no way I’m gonna let you go in less than an hour.”
I sigh. “That sounds like a fun idea. But I have a conference call soon. I can’t blow it.”
“Sucks, right?” he teases.
I elbow him in the ribs.
“Ouch. What was that for?” He grabs me and spins me around.
I squeal like a schoolgirl. “Put me down. Hey, I will take a rain check.”
“Deal. Let’s grab a bite to eat. I’m starving.” Colin takes my hand, and we walk inside Good Eats Guys.
The place is packed, but the hostess tells us it should be no more than a ten minutes wait. A table becomes available sooner, and she takes us to the back of the restaurant. Colin holds my hand in his while we follow her. We sit in a booth, facing each other. The waitress appears almost immediately and takes our order—burgers with fries and diet Cokes.
I open my mouth to say something, but the look on Colin’s face stops me. His eyes are narrowed, and he glares somewhere over my left shoulder. I turn around to see a blond girl in a booth nearby, eating a salad by herself. She has the earphones in her ears and bobs her head probably to the music she’s listening to. There is an opened book in front of her, and she seems completely immersed in it.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Someone from my past,” he murmurs and averts his eyes from her. “Fuck,” he adds quietly.
“That bad, huh?”
He doesn’t answer for a few seconds. When he looks at me, his happy, carefree demeanor is gone. “She’s nobody. Just a friend of a friend.”
“Well, you looked as if you saw a bloody zombie.” I smirk.
“Let’s just say she brings some painful memories,” he says. His brows ar
e drawn together, and a deep groove marks his smooth forehead.
I bite my tongue before I unleash some heavy-duty snark. “Do you want to go somewhere else? We still have time.”
“No. It’s okay.” He looks at the window. He seems lost in thought. I touch his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Hey,” I say gently. “Talk to me.”
He gazes at me and a ghost of a smile touches his lips. I squeeze his hand.
Colin shakes his head as if to clear his heavy thoughts and sighs. “We all have some bad experiences, right? What’s in the past better stays in the past.” I think he tries to sound upbeat, but his face betrays him. There is so much pain etched in his handsome features that all I want to do is to hold him and tell him that I’m here to help, no matter what.
I don’t want to pry, but he is my boyfriend, and I feel that I have a right to know what just happened. So I wait.
Colin sighs, and then says, “Her name is Anna. I know her from UCLA… before I transferred to the UW. There was a girl I dated, Faith. Anna was her best friend.” He stops and rubs his hand over his chin. He looks at the window, and his jaw clenches and unclenches.
I gently stroke his hand. Colin’s eyes find mine, and he continues, “Faith died in a car crash. And I witnessed her death.”
I gasp. My heart lurches in my chest. Colin looks down at the table, and his brows knit together.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “This is awful.”
He lifts his head. His eyes are filled with sadness. “It’s been a long time.”
The waitress brings our food, but I lost my appetite. Colin doesn’t seem as if he’s going to eat either. He’s picking tiny pieces of his burger bun and deposits them on the table. I stand up and walk to his side of the table. I sit next to him, circle him with my arms, and kiss his cheek. He leans to me and inhales deeply. I look at the booth where the mysterious girl was sitting, but a middle-aged couple now occupies it.
