by Ann, Natalie
Brooke opened the dishwasher, mused for a minute. “Most of the boys thought I was stuck up. They never realized I wasn’t allowed to date. But anyway, when I said I wasn’t interested in one particular boy, he started saying things along the lines of ‘I’ve never been in Brooklyn before. I wonder what it’s like in Brooklyn.’ Well, you know how it can snowball from there.” She shrugged, shut the dishwasher door, walked back to the kitchen island, and sat back down.
“Ha, sorry, but that is pretty funny.” Cori snorted out a laugh. “I bet you didn’t think so at the time though. I’m sorry to say, that is something I would have done to a classmate back in high school. Just for the hell of it. But you don’t intimidate me. Even with that calm stare you give to shut someone down. And that’s what those boys were, intimidated by you.”
“I don’t know. I still look back and all I can think of is I couldn’t wait to get out of high school. Away from everything and everybody that was trying to make me into something or someone I wasn’t. And well, that is enough for now. Trust me, I’ve moved on, no hard feelings. We all have to grow up sometime.”
Pointing her nearly empty wine glass at Cori now, Brooke said, “Your turn. So tell me the story of your life, or the shortened version, if you will.” She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t regret any of her confessions come morning.
“Not much to tell. Though I find it funny we have the name thing in common.” At Brooke’s blank stare, Cori explained. “Cortland Marie. Which I have to say is pretty stupid. My parents met in college and thought it would be cute to name their kid after an apple.” She ended with a snarl that she couldn’t pull off since her eyes were still wide and bright. “Guess it makes sense with the red hair. Either way, I was just as happy they decided to shorten it to Cori.”
Reaching over, Cori opened the lid on the bakery box. “Not sure about you, but we might as well pump some sugar into our veins now. Need to offset some of this wine.”
After slicing two generous slabs and putting them on plates, Cori said, “So, back to me. Only child, working class parents, both teachers and gearing up for their retirement soon. Though my parents were more...liberal I guess is the best word. I was allowed to pretty much do what I wanted. ‘How will you ever learn if you don’t try and either succeed or fail’ was their motto. I think I mainly failed.” She laughed at herself. “Not much more to say. What you see is what you get with me, if you haven’t figured that out by now,” Cori said with a shrug.
Taking a dainty bite of the rich chocolate dessert, Brooke prayed she wouldn’t lie in bed all night with a sugar rush. Maybe the alcohol would counter it. “That’s what I like about you. I’m pretty upfront and honest too, but in a different way. You say what everyone else wishes they could, but wouldn’t.”
Seeing that 100-watt smile light up Cori’s face, Brooke added, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, though you seem to think that is a good thing by the look on your face. It’s that you have a way of saying what is on your mind, without ruffling feathers. If I say what’s on my mind, I can almost see them biting back from calling me a bitch.”
“We’re different people. I don’t know, I think I can get away with it because everyone seems to pat me on the head. They look at me as the brainless party girl, the one that doesn’t know any better than to keep her opinion to herself. Besides, shocking people can be fun,” Cori added with a bob of her head.
Cori scraped up the last bit of cake off her plate, groaned and pushed the plate a bit further from her. Then eyed the cake that Brooke had barely put a dent in. “The truth is I know better, only I don’t care enough. But it helps that people almost expect those things to come out of my mouth too. Gives me a bit more freedom with my words.” She chuckled. “No one seems to take me serious anyway.”
Climbing off the stool, Cori grabbed her plate and went to the sink to rinse it off and help Brooke clean up the few pans from dinner. “I should probably be on my way. I’m sure you’ve got work that you need to get to.”
Brooke’s face indicated her guilt and Cori chuckled again. “I appreciate you cooking for me. This was fun. I would say I’d return the favor next time, but I really can’t cook, so next time I’ll bring takeout.”
Shutting the door behind Cori a few minutes later, Brooke thought back on the night. She said more to Cori tonight about her family than to any of the friends she had growing up in high school, or even college. She wasn’t sure why and was too tired to analyze it now.
Normally a good judge of character, she hoped the wine hadn’t clouded her judgment into saying more than she intended.
Suddenly the combination of all the rich food and alcohol made her yawn. Realizing that she wasn’t going to get much work done anyway, she grabbed the remote and started to channel surf for something interesting to take her mind off the last twenty-four hours.
She knew she had to make a decision soon regarding Lucas. And no matter how loose her tongue felt tonight, or how relaxed she was, she didn’t even consider talking about that with Cori.
She was pretty sure she knew what Cori’s thoughts were on that matter, and didn’t need someone else pushing her toward Lucas. She was doing a pretty good job of that herself. She only hoped she could survive it a second time.
Giving up on the TV, she clicked it off, grabbed her e-reader and started to lose herself in one of the latest romance novels. She’d always been a sucker for romance.
***
Hands full with coffee and binder, Brooke stepped into the elevator the next morning. Realizing she had to push the button to her floor, she carefully tried to move her coffee to the hand gripping the binder, when another hand moved past her to take care of her problem.
Looking up to thank the helping hand, she recognized the boyish grin and crystal clear blue eyes. Eyes that seemed to be laughing at her. Her bag started to slip off her shoulder and he reached for her once again in an attempt to help. “Morning, Brooke, need some help there?”
Shrugging her shoulder in an attempt to stop the fall of her bag, she quickly replied, “No, I’ve got it, thanks.”
But his hand moved forward anyway, only this time landing on top of hers holding her coffee, sending tingling sensations up her arm from the connection. She knew he felt her stiffen, but he continued to grin and started a gentle tug of war with her cup, until she finally relented out of fear of spilling the hot liquid.
Momentarily frozen, she watched Lucas bring her cup to his mouth and take a sip.
“Did you think of me last night?” he asked, his eyes scanning the elevator, void of anyone but them.
The ding of the elevator brought her out of her stupor, and her struggling voice simply replied, “No.”
As the elevator started to fill up, she was forced to take a step back, bringing her closer to him. Hating how her body involuntarily responded to him, and fearful he could tell, she kept quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to them.
Just as the doors were opening on their floor, Lucas leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Liar.”
Then he held up her cup in a salute. “Thanks for the coffee.” And he sauntered down the hall toward his office, her much-needed shot of caffeine disappearing with him.
Other people exiting the elevator brought her out of her stupor, causing her to exit as well. Turning on autopilot, she walked toward her office.
What the heck had happened? And there went her coffee, which she desperately needed, thanks to another sleepless night. Because Lucas was right, she thought of him all night. And some of those thoughts made her restless, in more ways than one.
She walked into her office, set the binder on her desk, placed her bag in its designated spot, and then headed to the conference room for her second cup of coffee of the day. Maybe this one she would actually be able to drink.
No Games
Hours after he had stolen her coffee, Lucas sent her a quick email.
Thanks again for the coffee, just what I needed after another sleepless night. I’m
heading to a conference today and will be back on Friday. My secretary knows where I am, if you need me…
P.S. Consider this your reprieve
Lucas
Reading the email again, she got the same feeling she did when she first received it days ago. She knew the exact meaning behind every word. And it never failed to make the butterflies flutter in her stomach.
It had been so long since she felt any type of attraction to another man. She hated to even think how long it had been since she had been touched, let alone kissed.
Well, if she actually wanted to think about it, she could say a month before her accident. She was coming up on a year soon. A year was a long time to go without being held by another person, touched, caressed or kissed. And the truth of the matter was—she was missing it.
She was also missing Lucas, his presence, his smile, his charm and his thoughtfulness. She hadn’t realized how much she had come to depend on his smiling face each day, or the little things he did that always seemed to put a smile on her face. Joking with her in the gym, winking at her when he caught her staring at him, stopping by with a coffee in the guise of a work issue.
He said he would be back on Friday. Well, it was Friday. Not knowing when she would see him today, she went about her day as normal, but remained on edge.
As she tried to focus and get work done, that low drum of anticipation never left. She knew beyond a doubt she would see him before the day was out. And by this time tomorrow everything would stay the same or change completely. Because she had some things to say first and she wasn’t sure how he would react.
***
It took a huge amount of willpower for Lucas to not contact Brooke the last few days. He lost count of the number of times he started an email, only to stop and delete it.
He was glad he didn’t have her cell number, because he knew he would have been as tempted to send her a quick text. Or worse yet, call her for some made-up reason.
He left the ball in her court. He didn’t want to push, but he was starting to realize that if he didn’t, he could be waiting a very long time. Trying to think of excuses to stop in and see her, even though they were legitimate concerns, or rushing through work to get to the gym knowing she would be there only made him feel like a stalker.
He was itching to get his hands on her. And those gym visits were the worst. Seeing her all hot and sweaty was putting images in his head. Images that stayed there, resulting in many sleepless nights.
He was actually glad that he was away these last few days. It was good to give her time, time to let her get comfortable around him. And he was sure she was, but his normal patience was wearing thin and he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, what pulled at him so fast and so early, but he needed to be around her. Needed to see that slow smile start at the corner of her lips, spread to her eyes, brightening them, making the flecks of gold stand out more.
He shook his head of those thoughts about her. It seemed like one thing after another had stopped him from seeing her today. He had wanted to rush down the minute he walked into his office late morning, but emergencies and visits from staff kept him away. And now it was almost four.
Without thought, and fearing he would be interrupted again, he quickly pulled up his email. He would test the waters and start simple. Gym tonight? he typed.
Almost immediately he received her response. Yes. Good sign.
Keeping it simple, he inquired. Alone?
The response didn’t come back quite so quickly this time, but not enough time passed to alarm him. Once he read it he could almost picture her at her desk, internal debate waging war on what to write. Internal debate or not, he couldn’t help grinning or letting out the next breath he had been holding. Yes, unless you’re going to be there?
It was the opening he was hoping for. How about dinner instead?
OK.
Looking at the clock once more, Lucas started to form a plan in his mind. He was going for broke. He could keep it professional if need be, but only for a backup plan if the night didn’t go as expected. He sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be the case.
He typed back. Pick you up at home at 6:30? I’ve got your address from your résumé, he added quickly, not wanting her to alarm her.
Sounds good.
***
A few hours later, Brooke paced back and forth in her closet. Why had she agreed to this? She was terrified, and for the life of her couldn’t figure out why. Well, she knew why, but still tried to get her emotions under control.
She reminded herself it was only normal to feel this way. A year was a long time without intimacy. A long time to go without feeling wanted and needed in a way only a man could make a woman feel. She hadn’t realized she was missing that connection so much, until Lucas.
But she was enjoying the tingle of anticipation of what was to come. The dancing around two people did in the beginning, the thrill of the next step. Wondering if and when it would happen. And sex, she was really missing sex. Hopefully that wasn’t clouding her judgment.
She began to look around her closet, then wished she had asked where they were going. Concluding he wouldn’t do anything really fancy, she decided on a pair of dark washed skinny jeans and a fitted buttery yellow top with a scooped neckline. Plunging just enough to tease, throwing out a hint but leaving enough mystery.
“Shoes, shoes, shoes,” she muttered to herself as her eyes roamed the neatly organized racks.
Heels always made her feel confident, and she knew she was going to need that extra boost tonight. The gray suede heeled ankle boots would do the trick. She quickly grabbed them off the rack.
One more quick turn in the mirror satisfied her that she accomplished the right amount of feminine casual sex appeal she was going for. Glad that she had worn her hair down today, as it was one less thing she had to deal with. It seemed to add to the look she was going for, which was modern and confident without trying too hard.
She freshened up her subtle makeup and then headed out to the living room to wait. The problem with always being early was the waiting. Waiting was the worst, especially waiting for the unknown.
Picking up her laptop, she settled into the corner of the couch. Taking advantage of the time, she decided to review her notes for some fresh ideas she had. Maybe he did want to talk about the conference after all. If that was the case, she wanted to be prepared. She hoped she wasn’t reading the situation wrong, but being prepared for any outcome was what she excelled at. So, she would prepare.
***
Lucas pulled his Range Rover in front of the closed garage door. Debating between the front or garage doors, he opted for the front door. The garage seemed too casual. They weren’t there yet. Better to stay formal, at least for now. No use scaring her any more than he thought she was. Go slow, he reminded himself.
Reaching over, he grabbed what he needed from the passenger seat and got out.
Brooke answered the doorbell almost immediately. Her eyes instantly went to the pizza box in his hand. “Change of plans,” he explained, noticing her confused frown. “I decided I wanted a night in after the conference. I’m kind of sick of restaurant food, not that this is much different. Hope this is okay?” He hoped me made the right choice. Maybe he should have asked her opinion ahead of time?
“Sure.” Stepping back out the way, she grabbed the box from his hand, and took note of the other two bags in his other hand. He held them up slightly. “Beer and wine. Thought I would cover my bases.”
A nervous smile crossed her face. “Come on in. I would have cooked if you wanted to stay in though.” She shut the door behind him.
“Seriously? Cook, as in an actual meal, real food, not out of a package or microwave?” he asked curiously.
Her forehead wrinkled. “Of course real food. Who eats packaged microwave food like that?” When he raised his eyebrows at her, she said, “You know that stuff isn’t good for you. It’s not really healthy.”
Agreeing with her,
he shrugged. “True, but all I’m good for is what I can throw on a grill, order over the phone or take out of a package. Oh, or warm up something the housekeeper leaves. She takes pity on me,” he added ruefully.
“Well, that’s good to know. Looks like I’ll be doing the cooking next time,” she said with a smile.
“Deal.” Following her into the kitchen, his eyes roamed from the soft wavy hair flowing down her back, to the jeans hugging the curve of her backside, all the way down to those sexy shoes she always paired with everything. Little ankle boots this time, looking as soft as the shirt was she wearing. She always looked so soft and touchable. And he had high hopes on finding out how touchable she was.
“I was starting to have second thoughts on my way over here,” he remarked casually.
“What?” she said with a high-pitched squeak.
“About the pizza,” he rushed to say when he saw the startled look on her face. “Not tonight, us, dinner. No second thoughts there for me. You?”
“No, no second thoughts.” She paused and grabbed a wine glass from the cabinet.
“I can hear the ‘but’ coming loud and clear over here.” He smiled, hoping to put her at ease.
“But—I have a few things I need to say first.” She turned and grabbed a couple plates next, set them down, held up some utensils that had him shaking his head, causing her to replace them. “Why don’t we eat while the pizza is still hot?”
Opening the box, he placed a slice on each of their plates. “I’ve seen you eating pepperoni before, so figured it was a safe bet.” He remembered the time he saw her grabbing a quick slice with Cori in the cafeteria a few weeks ago. He’d taken note of her likes and dislikes, and stored it away.
