All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... Book 3)

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All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... Book 3) Page 3

by Leslie McAdam


  “Hi. Are you just finishing up work?”

  “Yeah,” he said, resting an arm against the doorjamb over my head, making me react with a throb in my heart and other places. He gave me a crooked smile. “I worked all weekend too. I wanted to bring you this, one of my clients makes it.” And he handed me a jar of salsa, a very good local brand.

  “Thank you. I love this brand, it’s delicious.” He’d thought of me. Nice.

  “I’m glad.” He looked at me, then glanced over at his door and let out a breath. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. It was a long day.” He looked like he wanted to say more.

  Who took care of this guy? It didn’t seem like he had anyone looking out for him. “Did you get dinner?”

  “I picked up something at work. My usual. There’s takeout next door.”

  “No, no, no.” Eating out all the time wasn’t healthy. “You need to start eating good food, home cooked, you know.”

  “It’s hard when I work so late all the time. I loved your tamales, Lucy.”

  Yay. The effort was worth it if it nourished him. I had to sass him, though.

  “You should try my chile relleno casserole. It’s a recipe from the Dairy Council of America, but it’s the shit.”

  “MOM!” yelled Rob.

  “Sorry, mijo,” I called back.

  “Don’t swear, Mom,” he called back.

  I ignored him and looked at Jake who had been observing me with amusement. Then I took the next step, the one I normally avoided. “You want to meet my son?” I’d never kept it from people I dated, but it definitely was a damper on relationships. The test to see if a guy could handle me.

  But right now I didn’t hesitate or feel weird introducing Jake to my son or vice versa. We were neighbors. He was bound to find out that I had a son.

  Love me, love my son. That’s the way it worked.

  But also with Jake, well, I wanted to get to know him and I wanted him to know me. So I hoped he’d say yes.

  Jake nodded. I let out a breath. So far, he passed. “Sure. Can I come in?” I stepped back and let him come in my home for the first time, his elegant but athletic frame dominating the front area.

  “Roberto, come here and meet Mister Jake, our new neighbor.”

  Rob came skidding up in his socks and slid right in front of Jake. Skinny, with bony knees and gangling arms, he hadn’t yet grown into himself. He had cheeks meant to pinch and dark brown eyes like his father. I ruffled his short, spiky hair. “Whoa,” he said, when he looked up to Jake’s height.

  “How do you do?” Jake asked formally, extending his hand.

  “Uh, fine,” said Rob, shaking his hand limply. Then he looked at me, big-eyed, panicking as to what to do next.

  I laughed. “Okay, enough torture. Go back to the television.” Rob slid off in his socks and Jake’s eyes followed him, then returned to me. He whispered.

  “Good-looking kid. Polite, too.”

  Now the way to melt the heart of a mama is to compliment her kid.

  “Thanks” was all that I managed in response.

  “I’d better get in,” he said. “I’m beat. See you tomorrow?”

  I nodded. “I hope so. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight.” Looking around to see if Rob was watching, he bent over and kissed me, not slowly, not quickly, but enough to matter. I again felt the pulse through my body. Then he kissed my nose and opened my door and left.

  What was I going to do with my neighbor?

  The following evening, after Rob went to bed, I sat outside on my porch in the dark, looking at the lights making the pool water dance and drinking a Skinny Girl margarita. Early winter in California meant a slight chill in the air, but I’d wrapped up in a sweater and enjoyed the peaceful evening. When I’d almost finished my drink, Jake’s sliding glass door opened and he came out, holding a bottle of 805 beer and wearing a tight, dark gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, barefoot. Even his feet were attractive. He headed to the edge of the patio to look at the pool, not noticing me.

  “Hey, neighbor,” I called out quietly.

  “Lucy,” he responded, and walked over to me. He glanced at my drink, said “Cheers,” and leaned over the low wall that separated our patios, clinking his bottle with my margarita glass. “How was your day?”

  “I got a lot of work done.” I had and it felt so satisfying.

  “Me too,” he said. “But now I need to unwind. You go in the pool, right?” I nodded, secretly laughing, thinking of how I’d met him in my bikini. “How’s the water?”

  “It’s great. They heat it so you can swim all year long. You should try it.”

  He looked at me. “Only if you come in with me.”

  Okay.

  “Now?”

  “Sure,” he answered. “That is, if you want. It’s a nice night, you know?” Even better with him. “We should take advantage of the fact that we live in Santa Barbara.” He looked at me like there was more that he wished he could take advantage of than just the amenities of the complex.

  I nodded. “Okay. I’ll change and meet you down there in five minutes.”

  I went back inside, set my glass on the kitchen counter, and checked on Rob, who was fast asleep. Gotta be a mom first. I taped a note to his door that said, “At the pool—Mom.” Then I quickly changed into my white bikini with red hearts all over it, piled my hair on the top of my head, grabbed a towel and the key to the pool, and tiptoed down to the pool in the quiet night. Although units surrounded the pool, some with lights on, some without, it felt like everyone had gone to bed and we were all alone outside.

  Jake paced on the coping at the edge of the pool, wearing his t-shirt and long, dark blue swim trunks. He didn’t see me approaching.

  As I walked toward the pool fencing, he reached behind his head and pulled at the neck of his t-shirt, taking it off, and I responded physically.

  Oh my.

  My neighbor looked dapper in his suits. But out of one? Now that was really something to talk about. A fit guy, his chest muscular, his stomach flat, he didn’t so much look like a bodybuilder, but rather a guy who simply kept in good shape. I gaped at his soft-looking skin, not as tan as mine. I wanted to touch him, everywhere. He turned toward me and saw me, his dark eyes catching mine in the half-lit night. My eyes went to his chest. A little bit of hair, not much, a little bit of hair below his belly button, extending into the low waistband of his swim trunks, not much. Just right. His broad shoulders and narrow waist formed that classic triangle. Toned arms and broad pectoral muscles rounded out the view.

  Yummy.

  All I wanted to do was nestle myself into his arms and see what his chest felt like against my cheek, what his nipple felt like on my tongue, what his back felt like when I clawed at it.

  Instead, as he watched me, I set my towel on a chaise lounge, took off my heeled sandals, and dipped a toe into the pool, which registered as a comfortable, warm temperature.

  Then I turned around, away from him, and walked to the shallow end, feeling his eyes on my ass the whole time. I grinned to myself. If you got it, flaunt it. I wiggled in, and dog paddled over to where he stood on the side of the pool.

  “Are you going to come?” I asked, blatantly embracing the innuendo.

  “Yeah.” He smirked and dove into the pool next to me, splashing me and making me squeal, surfacing at the other end of the pool. He took off underwater and came right next to me, under the surface, pulling me down by my ankles.

  “Jake! No! I don’t want to get wet!” I protested, wiggling around. He breached the surface like a mer-god in the middle of my squeals and grabbed me by my waist. He was so much bigger than me, but having him so close, wet and muscular? And playful? Hot damn.

  “You’re in the pool,” he laughed. “You are going to get wet.” Yeah, that had already happened every time I thought of him.

  “My hair!”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “But I don’t want to get it wet.” I never put my face in the wa
ter either, not wanting to wash off my makeup.

  “Okay,” he relented, taking pity on me. Instead, he pulled me in close to him and kissed me, our bodies wet and close together, those muscles holding me tight. With only a thin layer of clothing separating us, I could feel him on my belly and I could tell that he was starting to get ideas.

  More yummy.

  He broke apart. “You are so fucking pretty, Lucy. I don’t know what comes over me. I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

  “You don’t have to,” I gasped.

  He held me in the water by my waist. I wrapped my legs around him, feeling his hardness against me, reveling in it, and he groaned. “You share custody of Rob?” he asked, sucking on my neck.

  Rob, Rob who? Then I chastised myself. God, what kind of mom was I? But Jake absorbed all of my attention when I was with him. “Yeah, every other weekend his dad gets him.” I ran my hands through Jake’s thick, wet hair. He kissed my nose and looked at me.

  “Then I’m looking forward to this weekend.”

  Me too.

  The following evening, after dinner, dishes, and Rob’s bedtime, I heard the knock and opened my front door to Jake in a dark blue business suit paired with a sober red- and blue-striped tie, holding a bottle of wine. Since it was past his newly usual seven or eight o’clock visit time, I’d dressed for bed in a white tank top, with no bra, and cute, pink pajama short shorts. I hadn’t wanted to admit that I was waiting around for him, so I had gone about my night as usual.

  Though I still had my makeup on. So okay, I wanted more than just research for my book. I liked the guy.

  The night before, after swimming and making out in the pool, we somehow tore apart from each other and ended up back in our separate homes, in our separate beds. I didn’t know what he did in his bed, but I sure know what I did in mine.

  Tonight, tired, leaning against the doorjamb, his coat swinging, he gave me that thrill that he was taking the time to see me, even though he worked so much. As much as this excited me, however, I still felt the need to be cautious. I didn’t know him and I was wary to invest too much in pleasing a guy. I got so epically burned pleasing Carlos. While I leaned against the doorjamb under him, he noticed my scantily dressed body, then shook his head and blinked.

  “I have a lot of clients who bring me samples as gifts,” he said in his low voice, “but this one I thought you would like.” He handed me a bottle of Santa Barbara chardonnay.

  “Thank you,” I said, happily cradling the wine.

  “I was thinking that you could chill it and we could drink it tomorrow night,” he continued. “I should be able to get out of the office earlier tomorrow. By earlier, I mean earlier than,” he looked at his watch, “nine forty-five.”

  “That sounds great—” I started and his fucking phone sounded.

  He let out a breath, pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at it, and muttered, “Fuck.” He gave me an apologetic look. “I have to take this but I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips against mine. Then he kissed the tip of my nose and closed the door behind him. I heard him answer the phone as he crossed the way over to his unit and unlocked his door.

  The sound of his door shutting made my brain click into place.

  What was I doing?

  I didn’t want to be second place to a phone call. No way in hell would I be a convenient booty call for a guy with no time for me. Alarm bells rang in my head because I did not want my self-esteem hanging on whether a man thought I was worthwhile. I knew I was worthwhile. I’d spent the last twelve years building my own self-esteem about my body and my choices so that I knew this deep down in my soul. I wasn’t going to sit around all day and wait for him to come to me when he thought it was time to see me.

  That said, he was just so goddamned pretty and playful when he wasn’t working, it was hard not to. I felt really, really, really pulled to him. And he said he felt the same way. Otherwise, why was he even making the attempt to see me?

  So apparently I was just sitting around waiting for him to come to me, under the circumstances.

  I padded down the hall, turning off lights, and started washing off my makeup, thinking it had been never since I let a man see me without makeup. I got into my bed to read, but I put my e-reader down and thought about it.

  I liked Jake. I also saw how little time he had for me.

  If a man is into you, he makes time for you no matter what he does and no matter how busy he is.

  But Jake seemed to be trying hard to make time for me, despite the fact that he was phenomenally busy. And I liked it.

  So I didn’t know how to take this. I decided to sleep on it. I turned my e-reader on, face clean, hair up, and started reading.

  The following morning, no brilliant conclusion had come to me overnight. As I showered and dressed, I realized that I had to proceed with caution, not get overly attached to responses or attention from Jake, and have fun and see what happened.

  That evening, Rob sat on the porch with me, drinking milk, while I sipped a sparkling water in a glass, looking at the lights on the surface of the pool.

  “How you doing in school, mijo?”

  “Good,” he answered.

  “Not good enough of an answer for your mama,” I returned. “What’s that mean?”

  “I got a ninety-three on my spelling test, a ninety-five in math, and an eighty-nine in social studies.”

  I nodded. “Those are good grades. But numbers and data aren’t everything. How are your friends?”

  “Good,” he answered.

  When I looked at him, he kept going. “Cody is fine and he likes to play Minecraft too. So does Ramón.”

  “And your teacher?”

  “She’s nice.”

  I nodded. “What do you have coming up in school?”

  “Winter pageant and then we have to get started on our science fair project.”

  With kids, sometimes you had to press them, otherwise you would just get yes/no answers. But when they started talking, that was where you could find the gold.

  It was time for him to go to bed and I went inside and tucked him in. I decided to get out Jake’s wine, and, feeling optimistic, I got out two glasses to go with it. If he didn’t come by, I’d still have a drink by myself.

  I sat out in the dark night, looking out and listening to the quiet noises of the complex and the occasional car driving down our street.

  Jake’s patio door opened and he stepped out, wearing dark blue jeans and a tight, white t-shirt, looking immediately for me, and walking right over. In that getup he looked like he should be leaning against a muscle car, with a pack of cigarettes rolled up his sleeve, his jet hair spiky and his eyes so blue they were almost black in the low patio light.

  “Hey, there you are,” he said pleasantly.

  I hopped up from my perch and walked over to the waist high partition between our patios, where he was standing, bracing his arms on the wall. I gave him a slow kiss, our noses mashing, our tongues meeting.

  “Want a drink?” I asked after I pulled back from our kiss.

  “Yes, please.”

  I went over to the table and poured him a glass of the cold white wine, handing it to him. He dragged his patio chair over by the wall and put his feet up on the front railing, talking with me. “This is a much better way of ending a day than at the office.” He took a drink of the wine. “The wine’s good too.” He looked out at the pool. “So how long have you been a single mom?”

  “In other words, how old am I?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, I guess. I’m thirty-five.”

  “Twenty-nine. I had Rob when I was seventeen. His dad was my boyfriend in high school for a short period of time. And then we did it and he left me.” Jake’s face twitched. “It’s okay, he showed me who he was and I deserve better. I deserve a guy who will watch out for me, not one who will leave me.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  I sipped my wine. Then, because
I couldn’t help myself, I asked, “Why do you work so much?”

  He let out a breath. “That’s a long answer. I guess part of it is ingrained in me from my dad. He worked really hard and he wanted me to do so. He pushed me in school, he pushed me in my career. I always wanted him to think that I was, you know, up to snuff. Sometimes he was a real taskmaster. I guess that’s a longer story. It’s complicated. I love him and I resent him at the same time. Well, that’s one part at least.”

  “And the other part?”

  Jake looked at me. “I don’t know the reason,” he said quietly. “I’m not balanced. I work a lot. Probably too much. I don’t have time for relationships. I’ve always drowned myself in work.” He paused. “I mean, I exercise. I do a couple other things. But other than that, I’m at the office as much as I can be. I’ve always picked work as my escape from, I don’t know, life.”

  “That sucks. You need to live.”

  “I know. I think that’s part of the reason why I’m so attracted to you. I keep thinking of reasons to come see you. I want to know every single thing about you. I want you to talk to me for hours. I want you to get me out of the office. So that’s part of the reason why I can’t stay away from you.”

  “Part of the reason?” I had to know the other reason.

  “The other part is that you are so fucking sexy, I can barely stand to be near you. You’re some sort of J. Lo lookalike. You are a knockout. I have to keep this wall between us otherwise I would be all over you. And you have a kid asleep in there and I can’t do that.”

  Holy shit. It appeared that the attraction was way mutual. My next words reflected the see what happens part of my earlier decision.

  “You can come over,” I whispered.

  Jake stared at me, then slowly set his glass down on the ground. Before I could process, he moved. Like a gymnast, he vaulted over the low wall and pulled me out of my seat by my armpits. In a quick move, he sat down, then set me into his lap so that I was straddling him and pulled me down to him, crashing his lips into mine, kissing me breathless.

 

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