Saving Toby

by Suzanne McKenna Link

  I reached across the table for her hand. “I promise the night will only get better.”

  I would never tell her just how much her giant, mustachioed father had a hard on for me. Inside his office, he’d told me to take a seat while he sat behind his enormous wood desk like we were doing some kind of formal job interview.

  He ticked off questions: Do you go to school? Are you working? What happened to your eye? I joked that I’d been clumsy and split it open on a fall, but he didn’t crack a smile.

  He leaned forward on his elbows and asked, “Were you involved with the Velerio stabbing?”

  “No, sir.”

  He paused for a long time. Then he’d come right out and said, “You know she’s too good for you.” He sneered like he wanted to put me out in the trash. “Let me make myself clear. I don’t accept any bullshit when it comes to my daughter. If I find out you hurt her, or that you’re doing anything that might hurt her, I will make your life miserable. Got me?”

  Message loud and clear—old pops was prepared to throw me in lockdown if I stepped out of line with his daughter.

  If it weren’t for the fact that I’d been forever jonesing for her, I might have pursued Claudia just out of spite. But, I wanted this. I wanted to make Claudia mine. If it pissed old pops off, well, call it a bonus.

  When dinner was over, I paid the bill, and we headed out. I’d told her in advance that we were going to sit in the park and listen to music. We stopped at the car to pick up the blanket she’d stowed in the backseat, and, leaving her car parked on Main Street, we crossed the road to the south side.

  She had loved the park idea. “How great is it that our town has these free concerts?” We strolled the short distance to Rotary Park.

  No matter what her father thought, Claudia seemed just as happy holding my hand as I did hers. I didn’t get the impression she thought I wasn’t good enough for her.

  The concert was decent, a really great Beatles cover band. It turned out that Claudia and I both liked the Beatles. I joked that we had so much in common, soon people wouldn’t be able to tell us apart.

  She laughed and leaned into me, and I pressed my face into her hair. When the band struck the first chords of “Something,” I stood up and asked her to dance with me.

  “I thought you didn’t dance.” She rose up next to me and twined her soft, bare arms around my neck.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” I whispered. “I’m making an exception for you.”

  The song was slow, and I only had to hold her to me and sway. The heat of her body against mine boxed my mind off. There was only she and I.

  I sung the words of the song to Claudia as I pressed my nose into her neck. The sweet smell of skin and hair elevated my high. Being together with her like this felt amazing. I couldn’t wait to get her alone.

  19. Claudia

  The concert had ended, and we were back in my car. Toby was driving south, towards the water, and my neighborhood.

  “Are you taking me home already?”

  He shook his head. “If you think I’m settling for a kiss on your doorstep, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure you’re the guy my father always warned me about,” I teased.

  Taking my hand in his, he interlaced our fingers and rested our hands on my thigh. “And you still went out with me?” He raised an eyebrow at me and grinned. “Well, now you’re about to find out why he said that.”

  “Oh, boy,” I said, trying my best to appear indifferent while my stomach curled into a tight bundle of anticipation.

  He laughed as he pulled my car into the Lands End parking lot. The large paved area had a spectacular view of the water and of the jetty lining the Brown’s Creek inlet. Fifty or so yards off the jetty, a Fire Island ferry was churning up a wake as it began its journey across the bay.

  Now that dusk had settled in, the regulars who usually went down to fish or simply to admire the view were gone for the day. Only a few other parked cars dotted the open lot. Local kids, I guessed, just like us. “Parking.”

  Toby turned off the engine and twisted in the seat to face me. The warmth in his eyes made me tingle all over.

  “Remember, I have limits,” I warned.

  “I’m not going to push you anywhere you don’t want to go. But you didn’t wear that dress just to engage in conversation all night.”

  “That’s not exactly true,” I demurred, playing coy. “I like talking to you.”

  “I like talking to you, too, but I spent most of our date thinking about getting you alone.”

  He held my hand, slowly rubbing each finger gently between his before kissing my open palm. All the while, his eyes danced with wicked intention. “Does that make you nervous?”

  In the swelling heat of awareness, I struggled to allay a quiver of excitement, and I lied.

  “No.”

  “Good,” he said and brazenly stared at my chest. “Because I’m ready for skin to skin contact.”

  My face grew hot, and I let out a tinny laugh. “Are you this aggressive and explicit with all girls?”

  “With you, I think I need to be. You’re always so cool and collected. But I know something’s bubbling hot underneath that self-control.”

  His assumption amused me. “And you know this, how?”

  “You react every time I come near you. Even right now, you’re practically squirming in your seat. And I feel it all over me, especially here,” he held my hand over his heart. Our eyes held as his heartbeat drummed under my palm. “And here,” he lowered my hand. Before I realized what he was doing, my fingers brushed his groin.

  I yanked my hand away. “Oh, my God! You’re such a caveman,” I huffed, shocked at his audacity.

  He just cocked an eyebrow at me. “But I bet you’re sitting in a puddle over there.”

  “Jeez!” I groaned. My pulse was racing. Other than a brief cuddle at the park, we hadn’t kissed all evening. Despite all his innuendos—or maybe because of them—I was eager to get close to him.

  His smile grew wider. “Prepare to defend yourself,” he said and slipped out of the car. With nervous thrill, I watched as he strode around to my side and opened my door. “Slide over.”

  “Where?” I asked as he pushed himself into the seat with me. I was wedged against the center console until he pulled me onto his lap. He dropped his right arm to the side of the seat and felt around. Seconds later, he yanked the seat lever, and suddenly we both went down—fully reclined—me, prone atop him, breathless and fidgeting with the thought of what was about to come.

  “That’s more like it,” he said, putting his hands around my waist. “This car is pretty comfortable. Make out in here much?”

  “No. I generally drive my car, not make out in it,” I felt his hands move warmly over my back. “You’d be my first.”

  “Mmm,” he murmured, and drew my face towards him. We kissed, slowly, with just our lips. It was sweet, nice, not anything like the bold taunts he’d made. I settled comfortably into the crook of his arm, and, breaking off the kiss, I admired the flawless symmetry of his face in the dusky light. I laid a fingertip on his cheek and got caught up in tracing the straightness of his perfect nose down to the flared tip, to the fullness of his bottom lip as it curved with his grin. I continued languidly exploring his face, tracing the angle of his jaw and sliding my hand over his perfectly groomed chin until my finger settled into a small groove. I stopped, traced it again, and inspected it closer. It was a thin jagged, white indentation made by scar tissue.

  “What’s this from?”

  “Close encounter with my brother and the coffee table.” Toby reached up to thumb the ripple on his chin and then shrugged. “Just one of many.”

  I laid my head on his chest and stroked the scar, trying to gentle the old hurt. “I get that your brother was awful to you, but aren’t you in the least bit curious to see if he’s trying to apologize in those letters he wrote?”

  “Nope. I’m not interested in an apology or
anything he has to say. If you’re so curious, you read them.”

  Excited, I rolled back on top of him. “Really? You’d let me read the letters?”

  He shifted my weight, centering me over him, but with a look of uncertainty, he stilled. “Um, maybe. I don’t know. Please don’t make me think about it while you’re lying on top of me like this!” he groaned, a hitch in his voice. “My brother and your body cannot coexist in my head.”

  He looked down at my cleavage. I was mashed up against his chest, and because of the open neckline, the girls were popping out all over the place. I blushed profusely.

  “I’ve been praying for a wardrobe malfunction all night,” he grinned, and suddenly his hands were cupping me through the material, his large palms making a circular motion over my breasts. My breath caught in my throat.

  The next kiss was hot. With our mouths fused together, I forgot any objection as I sank down into him. As his hands pressed and kneaded me into a heightened arousal, he began to trail kisses down my throat intermingling them with a flick of his tongue. I sighed with pleasure. He unequivocally knew how to stir things up with his mouth.

  Sliding his hands to my hips, he gripped me tightly and our bodies created a hot friction as he slid me forward over him. All the while, he continued his trail of licks and kisses right down into the hollow of my cleavage. He held me above him, and all I could do was clutch onto his shoulders as his mouth began to travel places no other’s had ever been. The dress strap stretched, the fabric gently rubbing against my sensitized skin as he pushed it aside, exposing my left breast. I heard his murmur of pleasure, and then his lips were on my breast encircling my nipple.

  Using his tongue and lips, he enticed the peak into a hardened nub. My whole body burned in an achy, unfamiliar and sweet response. It felt wild and incredible, and I arched toward him, pushing my breast at him, wanting to fill his mouth. With his left hand, he fondled my neglected right breast. My body corded up, feeling ready to snap as the tension mounted, and our sighs grew more fervent. Out of control, stretched to my limit, uneasiness began to build in my head.

  “Please,” I begged.

  “Please, what?” He asked in a low, husky voice. “What do you want, baby?”

  “I want you to stop.”

  “No, you don’t,” he whispered, and with his lips slightly parted, he continued, appearing blissfully preoccupied with my undoing.

  “Yes, I do,” I said with a hushed firmness and rolled off of him, wedging myself between his body and the console. The size of my swollen nipple startled me, and I quickly covered it with my hand. “Did you forget we’re in a public parking lot? Anyone could pull up alongside and see us.”

  “They’re too busy having sex in their own cars to care what we’re doing. Except maybe the pervs who come down to watch.”

  I gasped, “Pervs?”

  His smirk mirrored the devil-may-care look in his eyes. “I’m kidding. Don’t worry. I guarantee you no one’s looking. If someone pulls up next to us, we’ll hear them. Now, where were we?” he murmured trying to peel away my hand and replace it with his.

  I refused to move my hand. With a sigh, he watched me adjust the dress to cover myself. “Even if that’s so, it’s too much. I’ve never let a guy do that before.”

  “Maybe it would be easier if you tell me what you have done, so I know what’s uncharted territory.”

  Uncomfortable with disclosing this, I twirled my necklace around my finger.

  “Kissing and some touching, over my clothes.”

  He cocked his head in surprise. “That’s all?” When I nodded, he lowered his face into the crook of my neck and mumbled, “Damn, this is going to be tough.”

  “You make it sound like such a test. Do you honestly have to try that hard?”

  He leaned back to look at me. “Claude, sex feels good,” he said, stroking my upper arm with his fingertips. The gentle touch sent little tingles down my back. “And unlike you, most girls don’t feel the need to hold off.”

  “Are you telling me you had sex with every girlfriend you’ve had?”

  “No, not every one.”

  “Did you love them?”

  “Maybe no one told you, but you don’t have to be in love to have sex.”

  “I’m well aware of that. I just want to know if you loved any of them.” Though I wondered how many girls he’d been with, I was more curious about his emotional intimacies than his physical ones.

  “I liked them all, and some I liked a lot, but it’s never been more than that,” Toby said.

  His inexperience with love seemed to even us out somewhat. “I believe people should be in love before they reach that level of intimacy.”

  Toby traced my bottom lip with his index finger, and he asked, “So I have to make you fall in love with me if I want to get anywhere with you?”

  “No, you don’t have to do anything,” I clarified. “But when I get, as you call it, tight with someone, I plan on being in love first.”

  “Alright,” he said. “I got it.”

  “Good.” I took his hand. “Can we go easy tonight? Maybe lay here and just kiss a little more?”

  He shifted himself from under me so now I was on the seat and he was over me. Pressing a kiss on my mouth, he smiled. “Okay, but one day you’re going to beg me not to stop.”

  “If you say so,” I replied, mocking his confidence.

  “I do say,” he curled an arm around my waist. “Now be quiet so I can kiss you. We don’t have a lot of time left.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I have orders to bring you back to my house. I think Julia wants to make sure I haven’t made our whole date up.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  “Because she’s met some of my other girlfriends. You’re very different—smart, good—the whole package. I’m sure Julia’s home doing a happy dance.”

  Laughing, I put my arms around his neck. “Your mom is so cute. I would love to go back and see her before you take me home.”

  And then, I pulled his face down to mine.

  Later, walking to Toby’s front door, I noticed that the bushes along the front of the house were trimmed, and some of them were gone altogether. I stopped, astonished at the transformation. The house still needed a lot more work, but the difference was noticeable.

  Aunt Joan and Mrs. Faye were doing a large jigsaw puzzle at the kitchen table, and we joined them for a while. Mrs. Faye was practically giddy over us ending our date with her. I caught her watching us as Toby put his arm around me. Unlike at home, the atmosphere with Mrs. Faye was relaxed. Toby and I were accepted without question.

  “Did Toby tell you that I’m going to finally see my grandson?” she beamed.

  “No.” I turned to Toby in surprise. “You didn’t tell me you’d spoken to Felicia already.”

  “Hey, I was getting my date on,” he smiled.

  “Felicia is bringing Dylan up for a visit the second week in July,” Mrs. Faye filled me in.

  I grinned. “You must be so excited.”

  “Oh, yes! Felicia emailed us some pictures, too.” With a smile a mile wide, she pushed some computer printed images towards me. “He’s such a beautiful baby.”

  We stayed for about an hour before Toby drove me back to my house. Before we got out of the car, we exchanged a couple of quick kisses, and he asked, “Did you have fun tonight?”

  I thought back to our evening’s dramatic start, the concert, to parking by the water, and finally to the calm end with his mother.

  “Fun doesn’t do our date justice, but, yes, I had a really nice time,” I said and glanced up at him. “I just hope it’s not going to be a problem for you to go slow with me.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he answered without pause. “I won’t stop trying to touch you, but if you think I’m coming on too strong, tell me. I’ll back off.” He ran a hand through my hair and brought it around to touch my face.

  I warmed at the sweet gesture. “Thank you,�
�� I whispered.

  Lifting his eyes to mine, he asked, “Claudia, can you see yourself falling for a guy like me?”

  His tone was unusually serious, and, for a moment, I was startled, almost paralyzed over the topic—he wanted to know if I’d fall in love with him. And then I remembered our earlier conversation.

  “God, you are really hung up on the sex thing.”

  He leaned away from me and sighed. “It’s not that,” he said quietly, and I waited for him to go on. He fidgeted with my car keys and avoided looking my way. “I just want to know if you think that I’m, I don’t know … good enough for that to happen.”

  I blinked. I didn’t expect such an insecure question from him.

  I tried to be truthful. “When we first met, I didn’t think we had anything in common, but on some strange, unpredictable level, we connect. But,” I said, “I have never thought I was too good for you, Toby.”

  We stayed quietly locked in a long gaze until he leaned forward and kissed my cheek. It was a soft, undemanding kiss, like a thank you.

  We got out of the car, and he handed me my keys.

  “So, despite my dad and my need to take things slow, I get the impression that you really like me.”

  With a grin, he swiped his chin with the back of his hand. “Damn. Am I drooling again?”

  Chuckling, I tugged playfully at his shirt. “The fact that you are deciding to hang around, be patient and put up with a lot more ‘issues’ than you normally would with other girls … well, it kind of gives you away.”

  “You’re so smart. You’ve got me all figured out.” He stroked my cheek and then pressed a soft kiss on my mouth.

  “Yes, Claudia Chiametti. I really like you. I like your laugh, the way you say my name, and even the way you squirm when you’re excited. Too many things to name. I’ll just say, I like everything about you and leave it at that.”

  I all but floated through my front door. I even smiled at my father who was sitting in the living room, waiting up for me.

  He eyed me strangely.

  “Is that the same dress you were wearing when you left the house?” he asked.