The door opened. Already in his sweatpants but bare chested, he rushed to the dresser, opened a drawer and tugged a tee shirt over his head. “Sorry, I forgot to…” his voice trailed off. He stood wide-eyed and open-mouthed, hair mussed. He looked adorable.
She clutched the shirt to her chest as he looked her over from head to toe. It felt wonderful, having him look at her with such obvious appreciation.
Warmth curled through her. She relaxed her grip.
Eyes wide, he swallowed hard. His toes dug into the wooden floor.
Remembering the thrill of his lips on hers, she slid the tee shirt away and let it fall.
His head tilted, as if in question. When her response was to meet his gaze, he strode on bare feet to face her.
She touched his cheek, silently willing him not to say a word. Words always ruined it between them.
He leaned in, his eyes open until his lips met hers. White static exploded in her brain. Her breath quickened and she wrapped her arms around him, exploring the curve of his spine, the hardness of his muscles.
Needing his skin against hers, her hands crawled up under his tee shirt. He stopped kissing her long enough for her to push it over his head. He held her to him, breast to breast, belly button to belly button.
He eased back to look at her, giving her every opportunity to stop, to say no. Her hands along his jaw, she pulled him close and kissed him. He moaned when she reached down his sweatpants and grabbed a firm cheek. His hands on her hips, he guided her atop the bed, lowering her beneath him.
Truly magic, his hands moved across every angle and curve of her, searching and exploring. His tongue followed. They were a gifted combo. She arched her back as waves of ecstasy rolled through her.
When he held her afterward, it felt like home.
“Sydney,” he whispered in the dark.
“Mm.” She was too relaxed to form actual words. She kissed the arm he held across her chest as they spooned.
He kissed her back, between her shoulder blades. “I’m sorry.”
She giggled. “Don’t be.” She curled closer.
“I mean…” He kissed her shoulder, her neck. “About your car.”
She turned to face him; even though she could see his face in shadow, his eyes shone. “What about my car?”
He leaned up on an elbow and in to kiss her, a long lingering kiss, as if he might not get another chance.
He opened his eyes, his lips still touching hers. “The flat tire,” he whispered. “It was me.” His voice was pained, waiting for her reaction.
“You?” She knew what he was saying, but wanted to hear him say it. All of it.
He cleared his throat. His voice was deep, yet boyish. “I let the air out. So you wouldn’t leave. Couldn’t leave, actually.”
She opened her mouth, pushed his shoulders to the bed and fell on top of him.
He held the back of his hands against the sheet in total surrender. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do. I was desperate. I thought you would hate me after I told you about that night. Now you probably hate me more.”
Her hands slid into his, pinned him down with no resistance. “When? Why didn’t anyone see you?”
He entwined his fingers in hers. “You were in the bathroom. Everyone else had left, and I knew you were about to leave, too. Something inside me snapped. I was possessed. I — ”
She put a finger to his lips. Her hair fell around his face as she leaned in and kissed him.
****
The next morning dawned bright but chilly. Ben’s arm curled around her waist, his hand cupped her breast.
Most of the time, she had to take a sleeping pill to get a full night’s rest. Last night, she’d awoken several times, forgetting for a moment where she was. He’d slept peacefully next to her, but instinctively pulled her to him. The warmth of his body matched the warmth of his generous spirit. She curved her body to his and fell back into a deep sleep each time.
Now she listened as the birds chirped and warbled in the tree next to his bedroom window. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want it to end. Tomorrow, the stress of work might undo everything. It all seemed too good to be real. Something so good couldn’t possibly stay that way. Maybe he’d been right about the magical-rare relationship being a fairy tale. Maybe he’d been drunk last night. He had certainly acted irrational.
Her tire. She smiled, remembering, then worried he wouldn’t want to be bothered with it today.
He inhaled deeply, then kissed her shoulder. “Morning.”
“Hey.” She closed her eyes as he nuzzled her neck, wanting to hold the moment there. In case it wasn’t repeated, she wanted to remember it all.
His voice was heavy with slumber. “Sleep okay?”
“Good, yeah. You?” Her fingers traced his forearm to his hand. She loved his beautiful hands – smooth, his fingers long and narrow. A surgeon’s hands. Or a piano player’s. Talented in so many ways.
“Mmm.” His leg entwined in hers.
It felt so good, tears welled up. What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t’ let him see her like this, ready to bawl like a baby. He’d think her bonkers. She sat up and lifted the covers. “Where did I leave that tee shirt?”
Before he could answer, she found it on the floor, popped it on and stood. “Where’s your bathroom again?”
“Across the hall,” he answered, glassy-eyed.
Probably sorry his plan had backfired.
****
As he settled against the headboard, hands behind his head, worry churned his gut. What the hell happened? She ran out of here like he’d yelled fire.
Or looked like she wished someone would.
Already needing an excuse to ditch him? Shit, was he that awful in bed? No other girl had complained. He did his best to please. And with Sydney, it came so naturally, he wanted to heighten the experience to its fullest. She’d given him all the right body language. He couldn’t have read her so wrong.
When she returned, he didn’t like the way she averted her focus.
She shivered and rubbed her arms. “It’s chilly. Your robe’s in here?” Not waiting for him to answer, she hurried to the closet, still pointing.
Charge. Well, if she wanted to leave so badly, he wouldn’t make it difficult for her. He’d already done enough.
He stepped into his sweatpants and was smoothing his tee shirt when she emerged in his flannel robe. Damn. Looked so much better on her. He wouldn’t be able to wear it again without seeing her in it.
“I’ll go start coffee.” He ducked his head and trudged downstairs.
So this was ‘the morning after’ so lamented in song. It lived up to its reputation.
Each scoop of coffee filled his nostrils with its sharp scent. He moved mechanically, taking down cups, setting out the sugar.
The soft tread of bare feet sent him to the back door. Sunshine poured in, but it didn’t warm him.
“Smells good.”
He wished she’d come up behind him, wrap her arms around his waist, stand there looking out at the world. “It’s almost done.” He glanced at her, then outside. “It’s supposed to rain later.”
“Oh.”
Right. They were reduced to talking about the weather.
At the hiss of the coffee machine, he busied himself pouring two cups. “We should get your tire fixed early, so you can get home.”
“Right,” she blurted, too enthusiastic.
She wanted to be gone.
He handed her a cup, pointed out the sugar and offered her milk.
“Thanks.”
Her standard response during awkward moments, apparently.
He sat at the table, sipped his coffee then cocked his jaw. “I know it was a stupid thing to do. I’ll pay to get it fixed.”
“You don’t have to.”
How freaking mindless. Disgust curled his lip. “I want to. I shouldn’t have pulled such a stupid stunt.” He gazed intently out the window.
She clutched
her cup. “It wasn’t stupid. I told you last night…”
Last night she hadn’t said anything. Just kissed him. He glanced up at her. “Well, you’re back in avoidance mode, so I thought…”
She stood so still, she might have been glued to the counter. “I’m not avoiding you. I thought you wanted to get rid of me.”
“Get rid of you?” His voice grew louder. “You’re here because I tricked you into it.”
“I loved it. No one’s ever flattened my tire to spend the night with me before.”
He searched her face. “Then, why...” He pushed the chair away and approached her. “Why would you think I was trying to get rid of you?”
She blubbered.
He took the cup from her and set it on the counter, saying, “Shhhh,” as he took her in his arms and rocked her. When she tightened her embrace, he vowed this time, he wasn’t going to let go.
Chapter Seven
Sydney marched to Claudia’s office on Monday morning and shut the door behind her. “I slept with him.”
Delight filled Claudia’s face. “How was it?”
“That’s not the point.” She folded her arms and paced. “Outstanding, actually. But I need to know how you feel about this.”
Claudia arched her brows. “How I feel about it?” The editor in her shone through, as if Sydney had it all wrong.
“Yes. Is it going to be a problem?” Words couldn’t form in her head fast enough to rival her reeling thoughts.
“Sweetie.” Claudia’s motherly tone had a soothing effect. “Relax. Do your job as you always have, as I know you will. He will do his job, and all will be right with the world.”
Tension eased from her muscles. She plopped into the chair and held her head. “Thank God. I’ve been so worried.”
“Why? You are a consummate professional. A role model of journalistic excellence.” She folded her hands, the lilting praise sprinkling the air with sarcasm.
She slouched. “Okay, I get it. But thanks.”
Claudia smiled. “You’re welcome. Now get to work.”
She sprung from the chair. “Ben and I have some ideas we’d like to talk to you about.”
Claudia tilted her head. “Great. Let’s discuss it at the staff meeting.” She turned to her computer, then looked at Sydney. “Collaborating on work, too?” She winked.
****
“Come on.” Louann tapped on her desk. “Let’s go. Sadie and Claudia are waiting for us at Chico’s.”
“Coming.” Sydney waved to Ben across the newsroom.
Girls’ night out with her three best friends – she used to love it. She still did, but tonight, she was already eager to be with Ben again. The past two months had been a blur, spending days with him at work and nights with him at either her place or his. Happiness was an unfamiliar emotion, at first; one she’d feared would overpower her professional self. Their relationship only enhanced her professional self. Happiness had settled over her like a layer of shimmering gauze, allowing plenty of breathing room.
****
Sydney, Claudia, Sadie and Louann were the loudest table in the place. Antony, the owner, catered to Sadie. He wanted a good review of his revamped restaurant, so he ensured the margaritas flowed freely.
They toasted to friendship. They toasted the bartender, whose expertise was awesome, margarita-wise. The variety of margaritas on the menu boggled her mind.
Sydney felt buoyant. And it wasn’t just the tequila.
Antony appeared at the table. “How about a nice cheese platter? On the house.”
Sadie gave him her sexiest smile. “You’re too good to us. That would be lovely.”
He gave a nod and hurried away.
Sydney glanced at her watch. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and looked at each of her friends, grateful for their constancy, their trueness.
She raised her glass one last time. “Here’s to finding the right someone at the right time in your life.” The thought of Ben waiting for her filled her with simultaneous calm and excitement.
Claudia touched her glass to Sydney’s. “I’ll drink to that.”
Her friends hooted with laughter. She called Ben on her cell phone.
As they ordered a final round, he walked in. Maybe it was the candlelight, but he had a kind of shimmer about him, an aura of happiness.
Walking through the parking lot, she took his hand. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
He slid his arm around her. “My pleasure.”
She squeezed his waist. “It will be, once you take me home.”
“First, though, I want to talk to you.” He lead her to the gazebo, entwined with flowers and lit by hundreds of strings of miniature lights.
“What’s wrong?” Dread overshadowed her, stole the glimmer from her gauze of happiness.
“Nothing.” His voice was soft, but his eyes were wide. A tension had gripped him. He sat on the bench encircling the inside of the gazebo, holding her hand as she sat next to him.
Her breath stuck in her chest. This couldn’t be the breakup speech. Maybe it would be the let’s take it slower speech. After all, they’d been spending every spare minute of every day together.
”Sydney.” His gentle tone broke through her thoughts. “These past few months have been amazing.”
“For me, too.” Her hands held tight to his. To let go now felt unimaginable.
Twinkling lights danced in his dark eyes. “Will you marry me?”
A burst of breath left her. “Are you serious?”
His lips were soft on hers. He pulled her to him, and she held him as if he were a life ring in a sea of cresting waves. “Does that help convince you?”
She took a tissue from her pocket and blew. “Do you have your digital camera with you?”
“Always.”
She glanced around at the gazebo lights. “Would you be able to get a picture?”
“Of what?”
She looked in his eyes. “Us.”
He kissed her and smiled. “Wait here.”
He ran to his truck and grabbed the Nikon, adjusted the focus and pressed the self-timer. He sat next to her. She leaned her cheek against his. The shutter clicked.
He slid the camera from the railing, and they looked at the image. Their faces glowed, surrounded by what looked like a universe of stars.
“It’s great. You always manage to make me look good.”
He ran his hand through her hair. “I just shoot what I see. A beautiful girl.”
She kissed him. “I wanted to commemorate this night.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I have a few ideas, too.” He took her hand and led her to his truck.
She couldn’t wait to get a print of the picture. The wall beneath Ben’s stairway had an empty spot where it would fit perfectly.
###
About Cate Masters
Cate Masters loves stories with a dash of magic, mayhem and romance! Most days, she can be found in her lair, concocting a magical brew of fantasy/paranormal, contemporary and historical stories with her cat, Chairman Maiow, and dog Lily as company. Look for her at http://catemasters.blogspot.com, Facebook, Goodreads, and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.
Cate loves to hear from readers. Email her at: cate.masters AT gmail.com.
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