I See...Love (A Different Road #1)

by Annalisa Nicole

  I get in the shower, then crawl between my sheets and hope like every night before, that tonight is the night I don’t see my mother’s dead eyes in my dreams.

  Monday morning, I wake with butterflies in my stomach. How am I expected to function at all five of my clients’ houses today knowing I have a date with River Mason at eight o’clock tonight?

  Last night after I got off the phone with River, I was able to pull myself together enough to load my client’s bags with everything I needed. After that, I closed myself in my room and pulled out the one remaining tabloid magazine. As I stared at it, I found myself looking at the back of River’s tux clad form. Never mind the big fat ass over his shoulder, look at his ass. But, what I hadn’t noticed before is that his very handsome face is slightly turned to the side. And on his face is a smile. It looks really beautiful, and I’m kind of sorry I was looking at his ass and that I missed the rare opportunity of seeing a smile on his face.

  River is always so stern and serious all the time. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a photo of him wearing a smile.

  I hurry up and get ready, toss my hair up into my standard chef ponytail and load my van. I’ll take a shower after work and get ready for my date. Or, non-date, I want to make it up to you, dinner. I wonder where we’ll go.

  After my last client, I quickly drive home and park my van in the garage. As fast as I can, I unload the supplies that I need to put in the refrigerator, but nothing else. I need as much time as I can get to get ready.

  Nina is hot on my tail following me into my bedroom as I strip out of my white shirt and black pants.

  “I’ve picked out a really cute sundress for you to wear, and you can borrow my wedges to wear with it. I also picked out your earrings and bangles that look killer with it. Hurry up and take a shower so I can do your makeup,” she says.

  I don’t even answer. I rush into the shower and do as she says. Once out of the shower, I start to blow-dry my hair. Nina quickly takes over, sits me in a chair and starts running a brush through it while chasing it with the blow dryer leaving nice full, smooth, straight, tamed hair.

  She moves my chair to the side, brings another chair over and sets it in front of me. She plants her ass in the chair and opens an arsenal of makeup supplies. Good Lord, who has this much makeup to begin with?

  After twenty minutes of ‘look up, look down, stop blinking, hold still,’ and tugging, poking, and pulling, she’s done. With a makeup wedge in one hand and eyeliner in the other, she holds them out to the side and grins at me. Kind of like a painter would do once they’ve finished their masterpiece. I was waiting for the ‘bellissimo,’ but I don’t think she speaks Italian.

  Her eyes fill with tears, and then she quickly puts the makeup back into her giant makeup suitcase.

  “Why are you crying? Is it that bad?” I ask.

  “No, honey, you’re beautiful,” she replies, wiping the stray tear away.

  Then there’s a knock at the door. We both let out a little squeal, and Nina starts to leave the room.

  “Hurry up! Put on the earrings, the bracelets that are on your bed, and then the shoes. Leave him waiting for ten minutes, and then come out,” she says.

  She leaves the bathroom and closes my bedroom door behind her. I hurry up and do as she says, then I walk over to my perfume. I don’t like to wear much. Most of the time, I smell like the food I cook, and I don’t like to clash smells by spraying on a ton of flowery smelling shit. I pick up my favorite perfume. It smells like nutmeg and ginger. I pump one little spritz on my wrist, and then rub them together. I’ve been told that I smell like pumpkin pie when I wear this, but I don’t care. What’s wrong with smelling like something as delicious as pumpkin pie?

  I look at the clock on my nightstand and bite my lip. It’s only been two minutes. I roll my eyes and remind myself that I’m not the kind of girl that plays games. So, I open my door and head out into the family room. Josh is standing by the door looking at the floor, while Nina and River are standing just a few feet away.

  Instantly, River’s face turns in my direction and he takes a deep inhale through his nose. There’s that bloodhound ninja I know so well. That’s a dumb thing to say. I actually don’t know him at all.

  “Joss,” he says, in a quiet voice.

  “Joss,” Nina says, in an irritated voice, and then she looks at her watch.

  Good grief, she of all people should know that I don’t play games. Who leaves a man waiting at the front door?

  “Are you ready?” River asks.

  “I am,” I reply.

  Josh glances at Nina, who’s doing her best to ignore him completely, then he opens the door and waits for River. He extends his hand and without even thinking, my feet take me to him and I place my hand in his. His hand is smooth and warm and his fingers instantly wrap around my hand with the gentlest of touch.

  I suddenly freak out when Josh doesn’t grab his elbow, but instead walks behind us. I don’t know how to do this. What if I make him stumble and fall? I tense up just thinking about it.

  “Relax,” River says, gently squeezing my hand.

  I loosen the grip I have on his hand and walk down the walkway toward his car. It’s not the black sporty one I’ve seen him in before. This one is a sleek, black, four-door vehicle with heavily tinted windows. Josh moves quickly around us and opens the back door to the vehicle.

  River places his hand on the top of the door, and then releases his other hand from mine. He gestures for me to get in. I slide all the way in, and then River gets in and sits next to me. Josh closes the door and gets in the driver seat.

  He pulls away from the curb as I look behind us to see Nina close the front door of our house. I kind of feel guilty leaving her alone tonight. I know she’s upset about the break up with Josh. Maybe I should have declined and just stayed home.

  River’s hand slides across the gap between us until he ever so slightly touches my leg, then just like that his hand is gone again. He sits in his seat looking straight ahead. I find myself studying his gorgeous features. He again has a slight five o’clock shadow over a firm well-defined jawline. His nose is perfectly shaped and well-proportioned, I’m jealous of his handsome nose. I wish I could get a nose job.

  When Nina and I were twelve, we were both on the softball team in school. Nina played first base and I played second. It was the bottom of the ninth and the bases were loaded. We needed this last out. The ball was pitched and the bat cracked loudly against the fast moving ball. It went fast and far. The ball was picked up and quickly thrown to Nina, who caught it and tagged out the runner. She quickly threw it as fast as she could to me to tag out the fast approaching runner. The sun caught my eye and I blinked for just a second. I tried so hard to keep my eye on the ball. A fraction of a second later, the ball hit me square in the face, smashing my nose. Blood gushed from my nose and I quickly grabbed my face with my hands. As I bent over in pain, Nina ran over already in tears, she was so upset by what she had done. But, it wasn’t her fault at all.

  What’s one of the number one rules in softball? Keep your eyes on the ball. My nose ended up broken in three places. I didn’t care at the time. I got so much attention for weeks. I had two cooler than ever black eyes, and Nina carried my books to and from school for three weeks. But, I ended up having a bump in the center and a crooked nose.

  As I grin just thinking about the good old days, I start to pay attention to where we’re going, or not going is more accurate. If I didn’t know better, I’d think we were headed back to River’s beach house. I thought he was taking me out for dinner. Oh God! Does he not want to be seen in public with me? He’s embarrassed to be seen with me, I just know it.

  “Relax,” his voice soothes.

  What, is he a psychic? Great, now he’s a psychic bloodhound ninja. As we pull up to River’s house, I still have a million questions running through my head.

  “I thought it would set you more at ease if we ate in tonight. I have this ama
zing chef that comes to my home and makes the most incredible meals for me,” he says with a grin.

  Great, he invited me out to dinner to make up for the fact that my ass was plastered all over the tabloids, and instead of actually going out, he takes me back to his place to enjoy a meal that I cooked. I could have stayed home and done that.

  The car comes to a stop, and Josh comes around to the back and opens the door. River gets out, and then extends his hand to help me out of the car. I place my hand in his and he expertly leads me into the house. The second we’re inside, Josh disappears.

  River walks into the kitchen and grabs a wine bottle sitting in a bucket of ice on the counter. He slides his hands on top of the counter until he gently bumps into two wine glasses. I look around his house and it seems different now that I’m not actually working. At the back of the house, my face lights up at the sight of the nighttime ocean. On the deck is a table set for two. There is a white cloth draped over the table, and there is a single red rose in a crystal vase in the center. The table is expertly set with fine china and exquisite linens.

  River comes to my side and extends his elbow. I lace my hand around the back of his arm, and he leads me outside. I find it fascinating how he knows exactly how to move around so easily in his home. He sets down the bottle and the two glasses, then wraps his hands around the top of the chair on the left and pulls it out for me.

  I take my seat, and he removes the napkin from beside my plate. He unfolds it with a snap of his wrist, and lays it over my lap. Well, it was more over my right leg than my entire lap, but damn he was so close to getting it spot on. The napkin starts to slip off my right leg, but I quickly grab it and reposition it in my lap as quietly as I can. Then he wraps his fingers around the top of a wine glass and pours the wine. As the liquid rises, I wonder how he knows when to stop. I wonder how much wine he wastes overfilling glasses. When the light golden liquid reaches the top of his finger on the outside of the glass, he stops and repeats the action in the next glass. He must be able to feel the temperature of the liquid on the glass. He purposefully places his finger close to the rim of the glass and stops pouring once it reaches his finger. I find it simply fascinating.

  For a second I thought maybe he’d put his finger inside the glass, and stop once he felt the liquid on his finger. Good to know he doesn’t put his fingers in other people’s drinks.

  He takes the two glasses and holds one out toward me. I take it, and then take a sip. He removes the silver dome cover from the plate in front of me. He then takes a seat. I have another sip and the cool liquid slides down the back of my throat easily…a little too easily.

  He removes the cover from his plate, and then sets the two lids to the side. It’s an awkward silence as we both begin to eat our food. I find myself not eating, but studying the breathtaking beach instead. There are millions of stars splashed across the night sky. The moon is just a little sliver allowing the stars to shine brightly in their radiance. Even the ocean seems black, except for the white peaks scattered here and there at the top of the waves.

  “Is there something wrong with your food?” River asks. “I can have the chef fired,” he continues, jokingly.

  “No, there’s nothing wrong with the food. I was just looking at the ocean, it’s so beautif...” I start.

  God, I’m so stupid and insensitive and stupid. I’m so stupid I had to tell myself twice how stupid I am. Yes, I’m double stupid. Of course, he doesn’t know the ocean is beautiful. Instead of taking offense, he sets down his fork and leans back in his chair.

  “What did you expect coming out with me tonight?” he asks.

  Now that takes me by total surprise. Actually, I was expecting him to take me out to dinner to apologize for making a scene and making me the laughing stock of the farmer’s market, that’s what. I pick up my glass and down the last of the wine.

  “Pardon,” I answer, swallowing hard.

  “Tonight, what were you expecting?” he repeats.

  “I wasn’t expecting anything,” I say, setting down the empty glass.

  He leans forward, picks up the wine bottle off the table and refills my glass the same way he filled it the first time. Then he leans back in his chair again. It’s completely fascinating how confidently he moves. If I tried that, absolutely every item on this table would be on the floor.

  “That’s not true. You got all dolled up. Obviously you expected me to take you to some fancy restaurant and flaunt you on my arm,” he says.

  Now that’s just insulting. Yes, I got all dolled up, but I’d get dolled up to go out with Nina. And how does he know I got all dolled up? I stand from my chair ready to leave. I don’t have to sit here and take this crap.

  “Sit back down,” he orders.

  What, am I a dog? I’m a grown ass woman and I do what I want. I stand there with my mouth hanging open just staring at him. Then, I clamp it shut. Damn it, why do I do that? I need to make an effort not to do that anymore. The second my mouth closes, his tips up into a slight smile. Damn, there’s that smile I wanted to see again.

  “Sit back down,” I order.

  Her mouth opens and stays open. That little click she does with her tongue on the roof of her mouth is so damn sexy. Then she quickly closes her mouth. I find myself smiling at her actions.

  “Look, I wasn’t expecting anything but an apology from you for ruining my life Saturday,” she says.

  “Aren’t we being a little bit dramatic?” I ask.

  “Dramatic?” she spits out, sarcastically.

  “You challenged me,” I reply.

  “I challenged you?” she replies, sarcastically, again. “What the hell is wrong with you? I most certainly did not challenge you to pick me up, ass to the heavens, and carry me through a crowded room of Malibu’s most elite,” she continues.

  That’s kind of funny she thinks the want-to-be’s that were here at my party were Malibu’s elite. It’s so funny, that I find myself chuckling. I stand up from my chair and reach for her. I put my arm around her waist, grab her wrist, bring it to my nose, and then inhale deeply.

  “Nutmeg,” I say, with my nose still on her wrist. “You didn’t want anything from me tonight, yet you chose to wear something that you knew would attract me?”

  And does it ever fucking attract me. My dick stirs in my pants and tingles with anticipation to sink deep inside her.

  “What? I always wear perfume. You’ve lost your ever loving mind if you think I wore it just for you,” she says.

  It was a lie. I could hear it as her tone changed at the last half of her statement. I bring my face closer to hers and run my nose up her cheek. Her skin is so soft. I bet her ass would feel amazing gripped in my palms as I press her back up against the wall and fuck her hard.

  “I can tell you’re a woman who doesn’t play games. You didn’t leave me waiting for you when I picked you up tonight. The dress, the perfume, fuck even the bracelets clinking on your wrists, they were all carefully planned out. I bet it took you an hour just to do your hair and makeup tonight, even though you knew I’d never see it to appreciate it. You knew what you wanted when you agreed to go out to dinner with me tonight.”

  “I…” she whispers as I run my nose across the side of her face to her nose.

  I rest my lips on hers as she breathes heavy on my mouth. I back her up inside the house and through the family room. As I walk her backwards down the hall towards my bedroom, she pants on my mouth as I kiss her hard. I pull the spaghetti thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and nudge her chin upwards with my nose. I trail kisses down her neck as I work the dress down to her hips. No bra, not even a strapless one. She definitely knew what she wanted tonight from me.

  I stop her in the middle of the hallway and shove her dress all the way down. She steps out of it, and I lift her up and kiss the center of her chest. She wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her into my bedroom. She rests her cheek on the top of my head, then lifts her face up and moans as I take a nipple in my m
outh.

  I enter my room, then kick the door closed with my foot and walk her over to the bed. I give her a little toss and she giggles as she bounces on the bed. Moving toward her sound, I get on the bed and straddle her thighs. Her hands come up to my face and rest on my cheeks. I follow the direction down and nuzzle the side of her face. She wraps her arms around the back of my neck as I suck her top lip into my mouth.

  I lift up and start to undo the buttons on my dress shirt. I pull the ends out of my pants, and then unbutton the remaining buttons. I reach in my pocket, remove the condom and place it between my teeth, and then I undo my belt and move my pants and boxers down my thighs. Her hands come to my lower abs and run up my chest.

  I remove her hands and place them together above her head and hold them there firmly with one hand. She squirms beneath me as I reach for her panties and rip them off her body. The one thing I regret about going blind at ten is that I never got to see the beauty of a woman spread before me. I sit back down on her thighs and roll the condom on. She pants like they all do in anticipation.

  She reaches for my pants and pushes them down as far as she can reach with her feet, removing them the rest of the way. I kick my feet out of them letting them fall to the floor.

  I lift up and swing my legs over hers so her ass is hot against my cock. I run myself down her entrance until I find its home. She moans as I enter her hard all the way to the base of my dick. God, she feels so damn good. She’s nothing like Fawn, Paris, or Autumn. I can’t help my own moan that comes from deep within. With each inward stroke, I pull her hips into me with a smack against my thighs. Her mews get louder as her thighs squeeze tight together. I put my hand on her face so I can feel her expressions. My mind needs to see what I do to her. Her mouth is open and her brows are knit together. Most women don’t like when I touch their face. Not Joss. Instead of shrugging her face away, she leans into my touch. She turns her face and kisses the inside of my palm.