Days of You and Me

by Tawdra Kandle

  I wandered for a while, peering into shops, checking out any faces as closely as I could without looking like a creeper. I sat down for a minute on a bench near the water, next to an older guy who nodded at me.

  “Waiting on a woman?” He raised an eyebrow in my direction.

  “Kind of. It’s a long story. Lots of complications.” I sighed. “She’s my girl, but I don’t think she knows it yet.”

  The man laughed. “That’s not unusual, son. They do like to put us through our paces, don’t they?”

  “Yeah.” I searched the passing people and then glanced back at the man. “Are you waiting for . . .?”

  “My wife, Lara.” He nodded. “She’s in one of those knick-knack stores, looking for gifts to bring home to our grandkids. Not that they need a blessed thing, but she can’t think of going back home to Tennessee without something little for each of them.”

  “That’s sweet. She sounds like a good grandma.”

  “Oh, she is.” He heaved a long breath. “Still seems strange to think about us as being grandparents. It doesn’t seem like that long ago that we were just like you. It felt like I was living on the edge, never sure whether or not we were going to have a real shot at forever. I didn’t know if she was interested in me or not. She kept me guessing.”

  “Oh, he was just slow, that’s all.” A pretty woman with short white hair and sparkling blue eyes approached us, laying one hand on her husband’s shoulder. “If you want to know what really happened, I’ll tell you.”

  Dropping a paper shopping bag on the guy’s lap, Lara squeezed next to him on the bench and smiled at me. “It all started back in high school, where we met. I was friends with this one’s buddy, Ted. They were both football players, and I played in the band, but I never really paid any attention to Myles here.” She shot him a saucy look, and I hid a smile. “We crossed paths quite a few times, but we never connected until a few years after graduation.”

  “I had a freak accident and fell, breaking my shoulder. I couldn’t drive or do anything to take care of myself, and I asked the man I was dating to bring me food—I had a hankering for Mexican. He was a real jerk, and he refused to help me out. So I called my friend Ted, and he told me he’d be glad to bring me food, only he was hanging out with Myles, and Myles wouldn’t come with him.”

  The man on her other side spread out his hands, half-grinning at me. “I was shy back in those days. I didn’t want to just barge in if she wasn’t well. I was being a gentleman.”

  “Hmph.” His wife shook her head. “I asked him if he was chicken shit, and well, I guess that got to him. He manned up and came over along with the food and Ted. Now, keep in mind, I was in pain, hungry and pissed off as hell at the jerk boyfriend—who was an ex after that day. My hair was a mess, and I was in old pajamas.” She sighed. “But I didn’t scare him off.”

  “I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” Myles pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek, which went pink at his words.

  “Well, they say love is blind, you know.” Still, she rested her head on his shoulder. “Anyway, for the better part of a year, Myles and Ted came to visit me. And then I noticed Myles was coming without Ted. I was addicted to this television show, and Myles hated it, but he’d sit and not say a word. Each time we sat together on the sofa, I sat a little closer to him, not wanting to scare him away, but letting him know I was interested. One night, I got brave and laid my head down on his lap.”

  “I thought I was going to have a heart attack.” Myles laughed.

  “But he didn’t. He just starting playing with my hair, and I thought I never wanted to move from that spot.” Lara’s eyes shone. “About three weeks later, he finally asked me out on an official date. And a year later, we were married.”

  “But she really only married me because her cat liked me,” Myles added.

  “True. My cat was named Psycho, and he hated everyone. Attacked people as they came into the house. But he loved this one from the get-go.” Lara slid her hand into her husband’s fingers. “He’s my prince charming.”

  “That’s a great story. It kind of give me hope, you know?” I thought about all of the history between Quinn and me and wondered if we’d ever be in a position to have a tale like this to tell. I was more anxious than ever to find her. “Thanks for sharing it with me.” I offered my hand. “I better get back to looking for my girl, so I have a chance to find the same kind of happy ending.”

  “Good luck, son.” Myles shook my hand, and Lara beamed at us. “Don’t give up hope.”

  I waved to the older couple and began to re-trace my steps, checking out the passing crowds. Of course, Quinn could have gone into the wax museum or the aquarium or any of the other attractions here, and it was unlikely I’d be able to hunt her down there. I’d just begun to think about plan B when my text alert vibrated.

  Expecting an update or correction from Kara Crocker, I grinned when I saw Quinn’s name instead, along with a picture of the Fisherman’s Wharf sign. I couldn’t be certain, but it seemed as though she’d just gotten here . . . which meant she was probably still up at the front, near the main entrance. Picking up speed, I wove among the crowd and began heading back there.

  I’d worried about missing her in all the people. I’d been afraid that maybe I might not recognize her. But the minute I spotted her, sitting under a large shrub that had been cut into the shape of a giant crab, I knew that was my girl.

  And in the middle of this city, thousands of miles from any place I’d ever lived, surrounded by strangers, I was suddenly home.

  My mouth went dry. I wanted to run over and scoop her into my arms, holding her against me. I wanted to shout her name and watch her turn when she heard me. I wanted to just stand here, watching her while she was unaware of me, just taking in her every expression, all the nuances that made Quinn so unique.

  She was eating an ice cream cone, I saw. She’d made it down far enough that it was all cone, with just a smidgen of green ice cream left. I remembered how many ice cream cones the two of us had shared over the years. When we were kids, Quinn had always been the most generous with her treats, offering me as many bites as I wanted. Later, when we’d dated, she’d turned eating ice cream cones into a sensual tease, licking and sucking with her lips and tongue while her eyes made promises until I’d been crazy with wanting her.

  Without realizing I was doing it, I’d walked over until I stood behind her. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say until I reached out to touch her shoulder.

  “Once upon a time, you used to save me at least a bite of your ice cream cone.”

  She turned, her eyes wide. I waited, watching for a sign of how she felt, whether she was glad to see me, upset that I was here . . . or any reaction at all. She blinked once, and the tip of her tongue darted out to run over her lips. I wanted to grab her, pull her body to mine and crush my lips against hers. But I knew I couldn’t make the first move. Or maybe make that the second move, seeing as I’d just flown across the country just to see her. That was a pretty undeniable first move. Still, I fisted my hands and thrust them into my jean pockets to keep from touching her.

  With a small cry, she half-jumped, half-stumbled toward me. I caught her, barely sliding my hands out of my pockets in time to wind my arms around her waist. She pressed herself against me, and every inch of my body came alive in awareness. Her soft breasts leaned into my chest and the curve of her waist fit under my palms. I felt more right than I had in way too long.

  After a few moments, Quinn tilted her head back, her gaze sweeping over me. “Leo. I can’t believe you’re really here.” She gripped my arms. “You are, aren’t you? I didn’t eat something psychedelic in that ice cream, did I?”

  Laughing softly, I brushed my knuckles over her cheek. “I can’t swear about the ice cream, but yeah, I’m here. Surprised?”

  “Couldn’t you tell?” She rested her forehead against my shoulder. “How in the world did you find me?”

  “It was
a team effort. Tell you about it later.” I patted the duffel bag, still slung over my back. “I came right here from the airport. Think you can hook me up with a hotel, so I can ditch the luggage? And then maybe I can take you out for a late lunch. Or early dinner.” I nodded toward the end of the ice cream cone, which Quinn had dropped onto the ground in her rush to get to me. “That’s if you didn’t spoil your appetite with ice cream.”

  “I didn’t. But you don’t need a hotel. I have an extra bedroom at my apartment.” Her eyes shone up at me. “That is, if you want to stay with me.”

  “Of course I want to stay with you, Mia. But . . .” I hesitated. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

  Her brows knit together. “You don’t?”

  I took a deep breath. I’d thought about this from the minute I’d made the decision to come to California. But now, with families jostling around us and curious eyes and ears nearby, was not the time to have a discussion about sleeping arrangements.

  Sliding my fingers into Quinn’s, I gave her hand a slight squeeze. “Why don’t we drop my bag at your apartment, and then we can talk over food? Take me to your favorite restaurant.”

  She smiled, although I noticed some lingering worry in her eyes. “Okay. Come on. Let me show you a little of my new city.”

  “It would be impossible for me to take you to just one favorite restaurant.” Quinn grinned at me across the table. “So this is in the top ten. Tomorrow we’ll have dim sum in Chinatown, but it would be hard to talk there. Tends to get a little noisy and crazy.”

  I couldn’t complain about the small restaurant she’d chosen, although I did love a good Chinese dumpling. This one, though, was cool in a kitschy, throwback way: it was a little hole-in-the-wall in Haight-Ashbury called Aquarius, and the walls were covered in old stickers and photos from the days of the hippies. Groovy music—or at least, that’s what Quinn called it—played in the background, and the wait staff all looked as though they’d stepped out of a documentary about the Swinging Sixties.

  “This one feels very San Francisco.” I took a tentative bite of my black-bean-and-veggie burger, which was liberally covered with sprouts of some sort. It was surprisingly good.

  “So.” Quinn crumpled her napkin in one hand and bit the corner of her mouth. “If you feel more comfortable staying in a hotel, I can find you one close by me. Or you could stay with Kara and Allan—they have plenty of room. I just assumed . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “Mia.” I reached across and covered her hand where it rested on the table. “I don’t want you to misunderstand me, so I’m going to be as clear as I can be. Brutally honest.” Leaning forward, I lowered my voice. “The minute I saw you on Fisherman’s Wharf, I wanted to throw you over my shoulder, take you to the nearest secluded spot and fuck you until neither of us could stand up anymore. I went so hard that I was in pain all the way to your house. I didn’t go up with you to drop my bag, because I don’t trust myself. Even right now, all I can see is your lips . . . and your gorgeous tits under that shirt, moving up and down when you breathe. For months, I’ve been having the hottest, most erotic sex dreams about you. A lot of them are memories of times we really were together.

  “Make no mistake, Quinn. I want you. I always have, and I always will.” I inhaled deeply. “But the thing is, Mia, sex was one thing you and I were always really good at. It was never our problem. If we sleep together now—if we make love—it’s going to be fucking amazing. Mind-blowing, without a doubt. But it might get in the way of the other stuff we still need to deal with. And baby, as much as I want you—and I do—I want us even more. So I’m willing to suck it up for as long as it takes to make us as strong as we can be.”

  As I spoke, Quinn’s face blushed pink, her mouth opened a little, and her eyes dilated. When I finished, she gave a little groan. “When did you get to be so goddamn mature, Leo? What happened to my boyfriend who was down for a quickie under the boardwalk at the beach?”

  “Oh, God.” I gritted my teeth, fighting the wave of desire that threatened to pull me down. “Don’t remind me. That’s one that plays on repeat in my head.”

  “Mine, too. When I—” She broke off, her eyes dropping to the table.

  “When you what?” I raised her hand to kiss the back of it. “Mia, you can tell me anything. You know that. It’s important that we both feel we can be honest with each other. Don’t hold anything back.”

  “Okay.” She nodded. “When I was living at the shore with Nate, sometimes I’d go for walks on the beach, if Sheri was there to sit with Nate, or when he was still able to be on his own for short periods. And every time I passed that spot . . . where you and I were under the boardwalk, I thought of you. Missed you so much. More than once, I went under there and sat down to cry.”

  I swallowed over the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. If we’re going to be honest with each other, then we also have to stop apologizing for everything. The past is done, right? We’re moving forward. When I tell you about that time, I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. And I don’t want to feel guilty, either. I’m tired of that.”

  Smiling, I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “All right. So let’s review: we’re being honest, we’re not apologizing, we’re not feeling sorry for each other, and we’re not feeling guilty anymore. Does that cover it?”

  “For now.” Her eyes lit up. “We should probably agree to amend the rules as we go along. You know . . . just in case anything else occurs to us or crops up.”

  “So let it be written.” I gave one jerky nod of my head. “And on the topic of where I’m going to stay, I’d really rather be with you as much as I can. I’m not saying that sleeping in a separate room will be easy, and I’m not saying the temptation won’t be excruciating, but you know, they say pain makes us stronger, right?”

  “Is that what they say? Then it seems like we should be Arnold Schwarzenegger.” Quinn rolled her eyes. “I want you to stay with me, though. We can sit up late talking, and I can make you breakfast in the mornings. I’ve gotten good at omelets.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I released her hand to eat more of my burger. “One thing, though. You cannot tell any of my football buddies that I was eating all this crunchy sprouty food, okay? They’ll never let me live it down.”

  She drew a cross over her heart. “Hand to God. As far as they know from me, you ate raw steaks and potatoes the whole time, like the manly man you are.”

  “Thanks.” I licked a little bit of sauce from my finger. “Although I’ll admit this is damn good. How did you find this place?”

  Quinn lifted one shoulder. “One of the guys who works for Kara and Allen brought me here for lunch one day. He’s third generation San Francisco, and his grandparents were hippies here in Haight-Ashbury.” She gave a little laugh. “Now, of course, his dad is a big shot in the financial district and his mom’s a DA in Marin County, but I guess the hippie gene skipped a generation. Asher definitely is more flower child than yuppie.”

  “Asher, huh?” I quirked an eyebrow. “And just how well did you get to know this dude? He took you out to lunch?”

  “Yes, he did.” She regarded me gravely. “He’s a terrible flirt, too. And so freaking cute. He’s got these gorgeous blue eyes, and he wears his hair long . . . kind of sexy, you know? Unfortunately, he’d be more interested in you than he was in me.” She sighed. “The good ones are all gay or taken.”

  I didn’t want to admit how relieved I was. Sitting back in my chair, I smirked a little. “Hey, not all of us. Aren’t I one of the good ones?”

  Tilting her head, Quinn tossed me a teasing grin. “You definitely are one of the good ones. So you’re saying you’re not taken?”

  I thought for a minute. “I’m not taken, but I’m not available, either. I’m . . . reserved for the one who can have me the minute she asks.”

  In mock outrage, Quinn threw up her hands. “Hey, I offered, didn�
��t I? I asked. I’m not the one taking sex off the table, buddy. That’s all you.”

  “Mia.” Slowly I wagged my head from side to side. “When I said you could have me the minute you asked, I wasn’t talking sexually. I meant . . . in a long-term, lifetime, forever kind of way. Why does it always go back to fucking for you? Get your mind out of the gutter, babe.”

  I could see her trying to be insulted by my teasing, but finally she couldn’t help giggling. “All right, you caught me. I’ll try to be more like you and think higher thoughts.” Her gaze held mine as she lifted up the strawberry from her bowl of fruit. Parting her lips slightly, she slid the smaller end of the red berry between them, taking a small bite. Juice drizzled over her full bottom lip and onto her chin, and her tongue snaked out to catch it.

  My dick was straining at the zipper of my jeans, and I wanted to drop to my knees and weep. “No fair, Mia. Not fucking fair at all.”

  Her eyes went wide and innocent. “What? I’m just . . . eating my berry. It’s very juicy. Mmmm . . .” Her eyelids drooped as she popped the rest into her mouth. “So good.”

  “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” I gripped the edge of the table, frantically trying to think of anything else. Mini-camp drills. Gut busters. Lines. Bear crawls.

  “Now why on earth would I be trying to kill you? I’ve got a vested interest in keeping you alive.” Her smile was simultaneously wicked and serene.

  “Huh.” I crossed my arms over my chest and decided to change the subject before I gave into the pulsing need to drag her out of here and into the closest alleyway. “So Asher, your lunch buddy, wasn’t interested in you. Is there anyone else in the city I have to worry about? Any other guys who’re under the false impression they have a shot with you?”

  All pretense dropped away, and Quinn shook her head. “No, Leo. I haven’t dated. This was my time, remember? I wasn’t out here to troll for men. If I wasn’t working, I was either exploring the city with Kara as my tour guide or camped out in my apartment watching a movie. And most of the time, I was texting you all the while. You know that Zelda and I went to a few clubs while she was here visiting, but if there’s anyone who’s proficient at keeping guys away from us when we don’t want them, it’s Zelda. A few danced nearby, but she never let any of them even buy us drinks, let alone sit at the table with us or—God forbid—lay a finger on us.” She leaned her chin on her hand, her eyes steady on me. “You’re all there is for me, Leo. It’s always been you, and it’s always going to be you. Forever. I don’t even see anyone else. They don’t exist for me.”