by Karen Booth
Tim put on his new pea coat and they walked a few blocks to the Mexican place Jenna had suggested. A cluster of people stood outside waiting, and she overheard the hostess tell the people at the front of the line that it would be ninety minutes until they’d have a table. She frowned and looked at Tim, wondering what they should do.
He rubbed his belly. “I’m pretty hungry. My stomach is still on London time.”
She looked up and down the street. Picking a restaurant seemed like a dating minefield. She had no clue what he wanted or liked. And this might not even be a date.
“Why don’t we walk a few blocks and see what we come across?” he asked, bending his arm for her.
“Good idea,” she said. She hooked her arm into his, trying to decide how close she could get without it being too obvious how much she liked him. They passed a dozen storefronts—a tailor, a café that was only open for breakfast and lunch, a tiny bookstore. The smell of soy sauce and sesame oil drifted toward them when they got to the corner. “I wasn’t even thinking,” she said, pointing across the street. “Ming Palace. Great Chinese food, but it’s takeout only.” She turned to look up at him. “There’s nowhere to sit.”
“We could take it back to my place.”
Her heart flip-flopped. “Great idea.”
They ordered their food and Tim insisted on paying, even though Jenna argued with him about it. He’d won the discussion by putting his hand on hers, a move so distracting that she didn’t remember giving in. Jenna waited for their order and Tim ducked into the market next door to grab a six-pack of beer.
When they got back to Tim’s building, he held the door open for her again and she tried to remember if any other guy had ever done that for her before. She thought he might be the first. So simple, so nice, and he likely had no idea he’d done a thing.
Jenna took off her jacket when they got inside his apartment and he swiftly took it from her and hung it on the coat rack next to the front door. She moved the food to the kitchen table.
“Let’s eat in the lounge,” Tim said. “Then we can listen to music. Is it too low-rent if we sit on the floor, at the coffee table?”
“Not at all.”
She picked up one of the takeout bags and Tim took the other. He disappeared into the kitchen, returning with plates and two bottles of Brooklyn Lager.
“I hope this is good,” he said, opening a bottle for her. “Bloke next to me bought it. He looked like a big beer drinker.”
“It’s local. My favorite.”
“Well, then, I’m changing my story. It was all my idea.”
She laughed and held out her bottle. “Congratulations, Mr. Piano Bar. You are officially a working man.”
“Thank you, my dear, but I owe it all to you. They were so impressed with my jacket, they didn’t even ask me to play.” He winked at her. “Kidding.”
Tim docked his iPod and put on some Van Morrison. Jenna sat on the floor next to the long wooden table and reached down to unbuckle her Mary Janes. Tim took a seat alongside her. They unpacked white cartons filled with pork dumplings, spicy Szechuan noodles, sesame chicken and rice.
Tim handed her a pair of chopsticks and her heart rate picked up—being close to him was wonderful. All she wanted to do was curl into him. It would have been typical if he liked her as a friend. She was so drawn to him that it made her chest hurt, which only meant something would eventually go wrong.
Tim dug into the pile of food on his plate, placing an entire dumpling in his mouth. “Mmm. These are fantastic,” he said between chews.
“I’m glad you like it. I think it’s the best in this part of town, but everybody has their opinion.”
He clinked his beer with hers again. “Congratulations on introducing me to my new favorite Chinese restaurant on the planet.”
She wiped her mouth with a napkin after a particularly messy bite of the noodles. “How are you feeling about the new job? Are they okay with the fact that you’re only going to be here two months?” Shit. There’s the wrinkle. She scrunched her lips and decided she wouldn’t think about it.
“They aren’t thrilled, but I guess I’m good enough to have on a temporary basis.”
She took a long drink of beer. A temporary basis. That was a depressing thought. She leaned forward to grab a fortune cookie.
He clapped his hand down over the top of them and the cellophane made a crinkling sound. “I don’t know the American rules, but isn’t opening the fortune cookies before the end of the meal cheating?”
“Well, sort of. But I want to play the ‘in bed’ game.”
“The ‘in bed’ game? Okay, now you have my full attention.”
She sat back and dropped her hands into her lap. “You know. You read your fortune aloud then tack on the words ‘in bed’. Here…” She reached for the cookies again and he slid them along the table away from her.
“I think I remember seeing that in an American movie.” His eyes, dark in the dim light, flashed at her. “Still, I cannot allow you to violate the international ban on premature fortune cookie opening.”
She smirked. “Come on. I do it all the time.”
Jenna’s hand flew to his but he clutched the cookies and jerked them away. She gripped his arm for balance and reached farther, wiggling her fingers.
“You’re quite the feisty one,” he said.
Their faces were inches from each other. He smelled irresistible. She watched as the color in his eyes became deeper and his smile softened. Electricity surged in her body, pulling at her, tugging her closer to him as if she had no control. She searched his eyes, hoping like she never had before that this was real.
Watching the impish look on Jenna’s face as she tried to get the cookies was more than Tim could handle. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief, her lips pursed in defiance. All he could think about was kissing her.
He leaned forward, hesitating for a fraction of a second to make sure she wouldn’t pull away, then placed his lips on hers. Her warmth overwhelmed him, sending a rush of heat straight through his belly and down his thighs. Her mouth moved against his and she drew nearer. He relinquished the cookies and cupped the back of her head, his thumb stroking the silky skin of her neck.
He pulled back, breath knocked from his chest, his hand still in her hair. She looked equally breathless for a moment, then a wicked smile crossed her face and she grabbed the cookies he’d dropped.
She popped one packet open and cracked the cookie in two, wagging the thin slip of paper between her fingers. Her eyebrows arched as she cleared her throat. “Always rise more times than you fall,” she paused dramatically, “in bed.”
He snorted. “Sound advice.”
“Your turn.” She held out a cookie and he took it, his fingers grazing her palm.
He wanted to kiss her again but he didn’t want to push his luck. The cookie snapped neatly in half. His brows drew together. “Idle time is wasted time. In bed. That’s total rubbish, I’ve spent many a happy idle hour in bed.”
“Oh really? Here, try another.” She tossed a second cookie at him. He caught it just before it hit his lap. “Let’s see.” He opened it, trying to look pensive as his mind rushed to create a good fortune. “A wise man cannot resist kissing the beautiful woman.”
“In bed.” Her breath caught as his mouth descended on hers again.
He took his time, brushing his lips against hers, trying to gauge her response. She was so much harder to read than most girls he’d been with, or maybe it was just that he liked her so it mattered more. Her tongue took a tentative lick at his and he pulled her closer, his fingers curling ’round her narrow waist. She sank her fingers into his hair and he felt an electrical impulse that shot straight to his groin. The spiciness of dinner mingled with her natural sweetness, making him crave more of her. He deepened the kiss, his tongue circling hers as waves of heat rippled through him.
The sensation of her fingers against his scalp was driving him mad. He had to resist the urge to lower her o
nto the carpet and climb on top of her. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden vibration in his pants. Bugger. He pulled his phone from his pocket, hoping to turn off the ringer without further interruption, but it was too late, she’d already pulled away.
“Sorry,” he said, glancing at the phone and seeing that it was the band manager. “Shit. I should get this, it’s work.”
She nodded, running her finger along her enticingly full lower lip.
He answered the phone, trying to ignore the throbbing in his jeans. “Hello.”
“Hey, glad I got you. I’ve got an opening for a recording session on Friday, should take most of the day and probably the early part of next week. You available?”
“Yeah. What’s the gig?”
“New alternative band, local guys. Their guitarist bailed. They need somebody to fill in.”
“Sounds great. What time? And where?”
He looked at Jenna; she was trying to adjust her skirt and he had the sudden urge to chuck the phone out the window and pull her down on top of him. Instead he covered the phone and whispered, “Have you got a pen?”
She nodded, fumbling with the flap of her purse and handing him a ball-point. He smiled, overwhelmed by how lovely she looked, all the more so with her lips slightly puffy from their kisses. She slid a napkin in front of him.
He jotted down the info. “Thanks for the call. Appreciate it.” He hung up, eager to refocus on Jenna.
“I take it you’ve got another job.”
“Yeah, studio work. West Twenty-Third Street. Is that far?”
“Not too bad. I can draw you another map.”
He set his phone down on the table and she craned her neck to look at the background photo. “A teddy bear?” She bit her lip, looking ever so amused.
“My niece Lucy’s idea. She’s four and was afraid I might feel homesick so she had me take a picture of her favorite bear so I’d have it, just in case.”
“That’s adorable.”
“She always is. Would you like to see a photo of her?” He scrolled through some images then turned the phone toward her.
She touched his hand to tilt the phone so she could see. “She’s beautiful.” Her eyes darted between his face and the picture. “She’s got your eyes.”
“Well, she’s got her mum’s eyes.” He scrolled to the next image. “This is Jane.”
“She’s gorgeous too. You said she’s older than you?”
“Yes, Jane’s thirty, four years older than me. Melinda is thirty-two. Here.” He positioned her finger over the proper button. “Press this, have a look.”
“So your whole family is stunning. Does Melinda have kids too?”
“No kids, not married. She’s a barrister, all business. Jane’s her total opposite, real homebody. She’s pregnant with her second, due February. She’s worried I’ll keep getting jobs in America and won’t be there when the baby comes.”
An odd look flickered across Jenna’s face as she scrolled through the images. “You’re really close with your family, huh?”
He nodded, sensing that was the source of her sadness. “There’s no one in your family you’re close to?”
She shook her head. “Not at all. You’re really lucky. To have so many people who care about you.” She clicked the button again. “More relatives?”
He looked and laughed. The photo was of Gavin grinning like a lunatic behind an elderly couple. “Not exactly. The blond git is Gavin. He counts as family at this point. The couple are part of Project Random Photo.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Gavin and I were walking past the National Gallery a few years ago and a group of tourists were posing for a photo. Gavin said ‘take a pic’ then snuck behind them and popped up with a huge smile on his face. It was hilarious, this maniacal prat grinning behind a gaggle of Japanese senior citizens. We must have a hundred photos by now.”
She giggled. “I bet you could add to that collection quite a bit while you’re here. Manhattan is full of tourists.”
“I’m always the photographer. Gavin’s the extrovert.”
“I can see that. He’s handsome too.”
“Yes, most women think so. Annoyed the hell out of me when we were younger. All the girls gravitated toward him and he wanted nothing to do with them.”
“My brother was the same way. He was a total chick magnet. Waitresses would hit on him at restaurants when he was only fifteen. My dad thought it was awesome. Made it all the more shocking for the bastard when Ethan came out.”
The hurt was evident in her voice when she mentioned her father. He reached out and stroked her hand and her fingers curved around his, creating a tug deep within his belly.
She clicked his phone back to the main page. “Oh wow, I didn’t realize how late it is. I need to be at the café at five. I’m opening.”
Disappointment coursed through him. “I’ll walk you home.” The last thing he wanted to do was let her go, but he was already looking forward to the good-night kiss.
He stood, hoping he wouldn’t embarrass himself too much with the uncomfortable bulge in his pants. Jenna started folding the takeout cartons shut. On her knees, she was waist level, right in front of him. He quickly bent and began packing the food back into the bag, trying to distract himself in any way possible. “Here,” he handed her the rest of the fortune cookies. “You should have these, in case you can’t sleep. Will give you ideas of what to do in bed.”
The giggle that purred out of her carried through him from head to toe. Right. I need to go put the food away so I can stand in front of the open fridge for a moment.
Even though they were still together, Jenna was riddled with disappointment. Kissing Tim had been incredible, but it only left her wanting more. The doubts and questions stewed in her brain as he walked her home. He stopped the kiss. What guy does that? He must not like me.
They reached the corner and a cab sped away from the curb, causing them both to freeze. He grasped her hand and stepped off the curb, leading her across St. Marks Place. He did it with total confidence, as if he’d been a New Yorker all his life. It was more than a little bit of a turn-on.
His hand enveloped hers, warm and protective, but the continuous loop of questions returned to Jenna’s head and kept her from enjoying the sensation
When they reached Jenna’s building, they stood in silence, holding hands for a moment as though neither one of them wanted to be the first to begin the conclusion of their evening. The wind picked up and swirled around them, coursing through Tim’s hair and pulling Jenna’s across her face. She shook it away to see him. He took her other hand and lowered his head.
He pressed his lips against hers with a new urgency, seeming hungry for her. All she could think was how badly she wanted him. Their noses knocked into each other, tongues tangled, eager for more. She popped up on to her tiptoes and strained to be closer to him, grasping his shoulders. She shuffled a few paces backward, pulling him along as they kissed, and stepped up onto the bottom stair leading to her door.
Tim laughed quietly, his mouth still against hers.
“This is better,” she muttered.
“Much.” He smoothed his hands around her waist and under her jacket, tugging her closer.
Jenna wrapped her arms around him, circling a finger into the thick hair at the nape of his neck. A soft moan escaped her throat as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth. He gripped her rib cage and his thumb rubbed the side of her breast. Heat surged through her, heightening the sensation. Everything he did was driving her crazy, in the best possible way.
Her heart beat a driving rhythm in her chest. She wanted to be consumed by him—she cursed her job, her roommate, the notion of a body needing sleep. It was all keeping her away from him. She rocked her hips into him and although he was already hard, it felt as if he swelled against her. Her remaining question faded. Oh yeah. He likes me.
Tim slowed their kisses and pulled away, resting his forehead on top of her head. “We hav
e to stop or they’re going to have us both arrested for lewd behavior.”
The heat rose in Jenna’s cheeks and she nestled her face into Tim’s neck. “You’re so warm. It’s freezing out here.” She huddled against him, protected by his arms.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Right. Your new coat.”
“Uh, the coat is great, but it’s not that.”
She smiled.
“Please tell me I get to see you tomorrow,” he said. “Would you like to come and watch me entertain the upper crust of New York?”
Her heart sank to her stomach. “I promised Natalie I’d do something with her. We’re both always canceling on each other.”
“Perhaps she’d join you. Drinks are on me.”
Jenna looked up into his eyes. “Natalie’s been known to down her fair share of ten-dollar cosmos.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He stepped back and held her hand. “I’m just going to kiss you good night on the cheek. Otherwise, I’ll never leave.” He brushed his warm lips against the side of her face.
Even that was titillating. She took a deep breath. “Good night. Thank you for dinner.”
“Good night, Jenna.”
She sighed as she watched him walk away. She saw his strong profile as he turned to look for traffic before he crossed the street. Her heart fluttered. He likes me. She hurried inside and up to the second floor, relieved that Rachel was in her room. Jenna brushed with the new toothbrush that she now carried wherever she went, and closed the door to her bedroom, pressing the lock.
Sleep seemed unimportant if not impossible. There were so many details of the night to obsess about—his smell, his hair, his mouth. Every word he’d said to her was fresh in her brain and she began to replay each wonderful scene as she went to her closet. She smiled, shook her head and giggled quietly, flipping through the hangers. Chewing on her pinky, she wondered how she would ever pick the perfect thing to wear for tomorrow night. She knew it had to be good.
Tim couldn’t get Jenna off his mind. Although the air was just as chilly as it had been the night before, he was anything but cold. He was revved up and overheated. He walked home briskly, making a quick stop at Duane Reade to buy a drink and some shaving cream. While he was at the store he grabbed a box of condoms, just in case. Wishful thinking? I hope not.
