by Rye Hart
Offering her my hand again, I helped her into her car. My lips were tingling with frustration, so ready to kiss her. I could still feel her body pressed into mine, and my arm ached to be around the curve of her waist again.
But my right-hand man from work was calling, and he only called when it was an emergency.
“Should I expect to hear from you soon?” she asked.
“Most definitely,” I said, smiling.
I watched her pull out of the parking space as I picked up my phone, my body screaming to go after her. I refocused and braced myself for the issue to come. I listened to him drone on about emergency edits and delays in production as I walked to my car, but my mind was only half in the game right now.
The other half was still dreaming about Layla.
CHAPTER 3
Layla
I couldn’t believe that damn phone call ruined my chance at a kiss. He had a gorgeous set of lips on him. Perfect for sucking on before he planted them into the crook of my neck. I got into my car and drove away, disappointed that I didn’t get more time with him. I knew work was important, and I wasn’t faulting him for that. Especially after the very expensive dinner he’d just treated me to.
As I drove away from the perfect date, my phone rang as well. I picked it up and put it to my ear, hoping the person on the other end was Daniel.
But I was equally happy when I saw it was Melanie.
“So? How was it?” she asked.
“Not gonna even let me say hello?” I asked.
“I was actually hoping you wouldn’t pick up at all. Was it just dinner?” she asked.
“He got a work call that interrupted the goodnight kiss I knew was coming. Ugh. Mel, you should see this man’s lips. They’re perfect.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get another chance at them,” Mel assured. “Now tell me about this date.”
“He took me to Saffron Table.”
“Holy shit. He can afford that place?”
“And then some. Had a bottle of decantered red wine waiting for us at the table when we got there. And the waitress? I don’t think she had any other table but ours,” I said.
“Did you eat the most expensive thing on the menu?” she asked.
“No, but the thought did cross my mind. I got a steak, and it was cooked to perfection. It took all I had not to moan through the entire meal.”
“He might’ve liked that. You always pick the weird ones.”
“Thanks,” I said, grinning. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Do you like him?”
“I think I do. I mean, I wouldn’t turn down a second date, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s a definite ‘I like him’ in your language, so yes. That’s what I was looking for,” she said.
“But that’s all I’ve really got right now. I wouldn’t turn down a second date. Get this, though—his grandmother is Gerdie.”
“Mrs. Wallander?” Mel asked. “Wasn’t that your grandma’s best friend?”
“Yep. Small world, huh? Gerdie never told me she had a handsome-as-fuck grandson.”
“Probably because she knows you’re a man-eater.”
“I am not a man-eater. I just don’t go on second dates if I don’t want to. Nothing wrong with that.”
“I’m just playing with you,” she said.
My phone beeped in my ear, and I smiled as I recognized the number.
“Mel, I’ll have to call you back. Daniel’s trying to call in.”
“Go get him, girl! And remember—details for later,” she said.
I hung up with Mel and switched over the line. My heart was hammering in my chest, and my hand was tightly gripping the steering wheel. What could he be calling about? Did I leave something behind? Did he want me to come back?
Was he not done with me yet?
“Hello?”
“First off, I would like to apologize,” Daniel said.
“For what?” I asked.
“For leaving you the way I did. It was an important work call, but I could’ve waited to answer it until we had wrapped things up.”
“Don’t worry about that. I understand that work can be an inconvenience sometimes. Especially if you own the company.”
“Let me make it up to you,” he said.
“There’s nothing to make up.”
“Is this your way of saying you won’t let me take you out again?” he asked.
“Not at all. I just don’t want you to feel you have to in order to apologize. There’s nothing to forgive.”
“I want to see you again, Layla. Interruption or no, I would have asked you out again,” he assured.
“Okay,” I said. “I’d like that.”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Are you working?”
“A bit in the morning, but I should be off for lunch. I know a really good place we could grab a bite if you don’t mind me coming in my work clothes.”
“You could wear a trash bag and make it look phenomenal, Layla.”
His words hung heavily in my ears as I bit back a sigh.
“How about you just meet me at the shop tomorrow. Say around one? It’s a little hole-in-the-wall place, and it’s hard to find if you’re not a local,” I said.
“Will you have a wonderful cup of coffee waiting for me?” he asked.
“If you’d like. Just come in and place your order. Yours can be the last one I make before I slip out.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you at one o’clock tomorrow at the coffee shop.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
CHAPTER 4
Daniel
Even in her work clothes, I still couldn’t keep my gaze off Layla. Her long legs strode toward me with a cup of coffee in hand, and I thought about what they would feel like wrapped around my waist. I offered her my arm and she took it, her body heat reaching out for me like tentacles off an octopus. Her gravitational pull was strong, and I found myself circling closer and closer toward the center of her.
We got into my car and she directed me to the place. I parked us on the side of the road, and I helped her out of her car, the cup of coffee she’d made me fading into the background. She smelled like freshly ground coffee beans and whipped cream, and I started wondering what it would be like to lick the creamy substance off her stomach.
Would she jump for me? Maybe giggle? Would she let me fill her pussy with it so I could eat it out of her?
My body shivered at the thought as she led the way into the sandwich shop.
“See? Told you it can’t be found,” she said.
“Yet it’s packed. Must be a hell of a sandwich shop,” I said.
“Oh, you have no idea. Come on. Let’s go get a seat.”
We sat ourselves down, and a woman was promptly at our side. We gave her our drink orders before Layla tossed me a menu, and the sheer quantity of sandwich combinations was astounding. They had their specialty sandwiches and lunch special sandwiches; then they had a menu where anyone could create their own sandwich and pick out their own side dish.
“What do you recommend?” I asked.
“Anything that comes on their asiago bread. They make all their breads in-house, but that one is the best. I usually put grilled chicken, lettuce, pickles, and their sun-dried tomato aioli on it. And fries because you can get them double-fried, so they’re extra crispy.”
“That sounds phenomenal. I’ll have what you’re having,” I said.
“Copycat,” she said, grinning.
And boy, did I enjoy it when she flashed that smile.
We ordered our food and settled into a conversation that seemed easy. She told me a little bit about what it was like growing up in the area, and I told her a little bit about how I got started in my business. But things eventually took a turn, and I found that I could talk with her easily about things I didn’t normally bring up.
“When did you move out to Seattle?” she asked.
“For college. I graduated and stuck around, really. I started
my publishing company while I was still in school, then I dedicated myself to it full-time once I graduated.”
“Did you always know you wanted to own your own company?” she asked.
I nodded. “I did. I was never very good at taking orders from other people, so it only made sense I’d be my own boss.”
She nodded her understanding.
“How long are you in town for?” she asked.
“Just for the winter. My mom asked me to come stay and look after my grandmother through the winter months. To see if we can get her doing better.”
“So Gerdie isn’t doing well?” she said.
“It’s well, getting worse, yes. She has Alzheimer’s, which makes it hard for her to remember her medication, and every time she forgets it, she gets a little worse. She’s had a cough now for four months, and her congestive heart failure is worsening. My mom doesn’t want to think about it, but it’s only a matter of time,” I said.
“Daniel, I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“No, nothing you haven’t already done, which is make her happy and comfortable. She loves Bozeman, and I visited her often while I was off at school. Mom drops in whenever she can, but I have the greater ability to travel with the type of work I do.”
“What about your father? Does he get in to see her much?” I asked.
“He actually passed away ten years ago. Multiple sclerosis.”
I watched her reach out her hand for mine and I took it willingly. Her skin was soft and her touch was warm. I closed my eyes and let myself drink it in for just a moment. Our food was growing cold, but it was one of those moments where I didn’t care. I was in the presence of a rare woman, and I wasn’t going to let something like my empty stomach spoil it.
When our hands finally disconnected, we got busy eating our food. I couldn’t believe how wonderful the sandwiches were, and I made a mental note to bring my grandma here on one of her good days. She would love a place like this, especially with them having Reuben sandwiches. We ate our food in relative silence, just enjoying each other’s presence as we took in the good food we’d ordered. But when it came time to pay, she did something I’d never experienced.
She tried to pick up the tab.
“You got it last time, I’ll get it this time,” she said.
“No, no, no. I appreciate it. Really. But that’s not how it works with me.”
“I can pick it up. I promise,” she said.
“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m just saying you won’t.”
I held the check at one end as her eyes connected with mine. Then finally, after a few moments of staring into those aquamarine eyes, she relented. I took the check up to the register and paid while she finished up the last of her food, then I went back and helped her from her seat.
“So. Do you need to get back to work?” I asked.
“Nope. Done for the day,” she said.
“Care for some company a little longer?”
“I’d love that,” she said, smiling.
“What would you like to do?”
“Oh, no. You’re the guest in our town. What do you want to see?” she asked.
“Honestly? The park I played at when I was a kid. I loved that place.”
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“Bogert Park,” I said. “Ever heard of it?”
“Heard of it? I spent most of my childhood there. I’m surprised we never ran into each other. It’s only a few miles away from here.”
“I might not know this sandwich shop, but I’ll always know where that park is. Come on. I’ll drive.”
We got back into my car and I drove us straight to the park. The ride was nostalgic, and it brought up memories of my father.
“My father used to drive this exact path to get to the park. There was always an easier or faster way, but he was a man of routine,” I said.
“Nope, not me. I like spontaneity and surprises,” Layla said.
“Doesn’t surprise me a bit,” I said, grinning.
“Did you ever ice skate here in the winter?” she asked.
“Every Friday night. It was our family thing. We’d come and skate, then we’d get hot chocolate at the vendor that always set up outside of the rink, then we’d go home and warm up by the fire.”
“I love family memories like that,” she said. “There aren’t too many of them because both of my parents are very quiet people, but we have a few of them.”
“Your parents are quiet?” I asked.
“I know. Surprising, right? I got my gift of gab from my grandmother. You should ask Gerdie,” she said.
I smiled and took her hand.
“Did you do a lot of this in college?” I asked.
“A lot of what?”
“Dating. Walking in the woods with strange men you don’t know.”
“Not as much as people think,” she said, giggling.
“What does that mean?”
“Well, I’m known as loud. Boisterous. Very friendly with everyone. Men, included. And that friendliness in towns like this sometimes strikes up conversations about reputations and stuff like that. I dated a lot in college, but most never made it past the first date. I wasn’t a woman who would entertain a guy simply because he was there.”
“You weren’t looking for the attention, but going on so many of them, it made people think that,” I said.
“Yep. So I’m known as a serial dater, yes. But it’s simply because I’m looking for something specific and I’m not willing to settle. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, there’s not,” I said. “In fact, it shows a strength within you that not many women have. At least not the women I’ve dated.”
“What kinds of women do you usually date?” she asked.
“Skinny airheads who giggle at all my jokes.”
“And sleep with you after the first date?” she asked.
“I never said I was perfect.”
“It’s refreshing to hear a man be honest about that part of his life. Most players try to just shrug something like that off.”
“You think I’m a player?” I asked.
“If you serially date women then cast them aside after you sleep with them, then yes,” she said.
“Well, it’s hard after having your heart broken to keep investing yourself like that.”
“What happened?” she asked. “Whose ass am I kicking?”
“No one’s,” I said, chuckling. “Having the money I do comes with certain perks, but also many downfalls. I’ve fallen in love with women who only wanted my money, and I’ve fallen in love with women who thought they could keep me on their string while dangling their hooks into other streams, if you catch my drift.”
