Love Resurrected (Love in San Soloman Book 5)

by Denise Wells

  “Brad? What are you still doing here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “Why?” She looks skeptical. Can’t say I blame her given how wishy-washy I’ve been.

  “Well, first, I wanted to apologize for leaving this morning.”

  She shrugs.

  “No really. It wasn’t a nice thing to do, and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s better than throwing up after.” She attempts a joke, but neither of us laugh.

  “I’m sorry. It was rude.”

  The elevator doors close and I wait to see what she’ll do. She stands there watching me.

  “Can we go somewhere? Or go sit down, at least?” I ask.

  She nods towards a grouping of chairs and we head over there. I take the seat next to her and try to plan my thoughts. It was so much easier to know what I was thinking and feeling when I was alone with Kat or talking to Ethan. But now, here in front of Tenley, I get tongue-tied.

  I take a deep breath. “Losing Kat has not been easy for me.”

  “I know,” she says, her voice sympathetic.

  “I promised her I would move on and continue to live my life—”

  “Look, Brad, I know it’s been hard on you. And, I’m sorry, but I’m just not interested in being your practice date or practice fuck, or whatever you want to call it.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking. Or saying. Just—” I run my good hand through my hair then hold it up toward her. “Just let me get out what I have to say first. Please?”

  She cocks her head and raises one shoulder in a half shrug, then gestures with her hand for me to continue.

  “I talked to Kat today.”

  She looks at me, brows raised, and I realize how that sounds.

  “I went to her burial site and . . . well, I talked to her there. But in all fairness, I also sometimes talk to her randomly, when I’m in my car, or at work, or at home . . .” I trail off, hoping I don’t sound crazy.

  “I get it,” she says after a minute.

  I nod, feeling slightly relieved. “I told her about you. And about Nessa. About what’s happened between us and everything that’s gone on over the last couple weeks. It was good, positive, you know?”

  A hint of a smile graces her face, so I continue, “And that it’s made me want to try and see if I can move on. It’s time. And I think I need to, or else I’m just going to continue to spiral in this vortex of negativity and sadness, slowly pushing everyone in my life away from me until I’m alone. Continuing to sabotage my career, my finances, hell, my life.”

  “That sounds like real progress,” she says. “I’m proud of you.” She gives me a double pat on the knee. The way she does it, it wouldn’t surprise me if she stood up and said, ‘Okay, good talk,’ and left.

  I’m not sure what to say to that. Do I thank her? Or keep talking?

  “Was that it?” she asks.

  “What? No. No. Well, yes. But also, no.”

  She looks at me expectantly.

  “This isn’t going the way I thought it would,” I tell her. “I guess what I’m saying is, I want to try. I want to see if I can move on.”

  She nods.

  “But I only want to do that with you.”

  “Oh.” Her mouth stays in an O shape and her eyes widen. She looks off to the right as though trying to figure out what to do.

  “Have dinner with me.” I suppose I should be asking her, but instead it comes out as more of a command.

  “Dinner?” She sighs. “I don’t know, Brad.”

  “Just dinner. No quickies in the bathroom.” I smile, hoping I look charming. She smiles in return, just a little one. It’s encouraging. “I mean, unless you want to.”

  She laughs. “When?”

  “Anytime. Now. Tomorrow. Whenever you’re free.”

  She scrunches her lips to the side as she thinks. It’s cute. “Sure. How about tomorrow night?”

  I smile big. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Okay,” she says, ducking her head slightly.

  “This is going to be good, Tenley. For both of us. I promise.” And right now, I believe it.

  We both stand and head for the elevator bays, then laugh as we realize we’ll be using the same elevator. When we reach our level, we walk to the same parking structure as the other.

  Not that I mind. I’m just happy to have time to redeem myself. To make Kat proud, to show Tenley I care, to prove to Ethan I’m an adult, to have Nessa see that I too can move on. Hell, maybe even to justify to myself that life, after death, can still be worth living.

  Six o’clock seems to have taken forever to get here as well as come way too fast. I’m nervous about having dinner with Tenley. Maybe because for the first time I’m going into it with my eyes open and my head clear on my intentions. I’m still not feeling completely guilt-free in all this, but it’s a tolerable level of guilt, one that I can deal with.

  I dress in dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It’s casual, but can still fit in most places, since I’ve yet to decide where to take her. Which means I also haven’t made a reservation. I want to go somewhere we won’t be interrupted too often, but also where there’s something external to be entertaining should conversation stall or be awkward. Dancing and mystery dinners are automatically out.

  It’s not until I’m in my truck that I think of where I want to go. It’s a little bit out there, but it was one of Kat’s favorite places, so I think Tenley will like it too. I do a gut check to make sure my intentions are in the right place, and I’m not just slipping Tenley into the Kat slot, so to speak. Then I call Ethan and have him ask Sadie her opinion, just to be sure.

  Tenley steps outside her front door and pulls it shut behind her as soon as I pull up. She’s opening the passenger door and crawling in before I can get out and help her.

  “Give a guy a chance to be a gentleman, will ya?” I tease.

  “Maybe I’m just excited to get the evening started.” She winks. It’s perfect and sexy and nothing like Kat, who couldn’t wink to save her life.

  “All right then,” I say as I put the truck back in gear and start down the hill towards downtown.

  She looks incredible, in a loose, white off-shoulder blouse, paired with painted-on distressed jeans, and brown open-toed ankle booties. Her makeup is light and natural, and her hair is down in loose curls. She could be the poster girl for Man’s Perfect Date.

  I reach over and tap her knee with my casted hand. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she says, glowing at the compliment.

  We pull into the parking lot after a quiet, companionable drive there. “Before we go in,” I start. “I just want to say thank you for taking a chance with me tonight. And in the future.”

  “‘Cause you think there’s going to be a second date?”

  “Oh, I know there’s going to be a second date.”

  She looks at me for a long moment. “Okay, then.” She smiles.

  “Okay.” I smile back.

  From the side, the building is unassuming. But from the front, you walk through a large, bright, neon red set of lips to enter.

  “Ohmigod.” Tenley laughs as we enter, looking around, eyes wide. “What is this place?”

  “Oh, honey,” the hostess—a large African American man dressed in a tight sequined gown with a long blonde wig—says in a falsetto, pulling at her arm. “Are you a KISS virgin?”

  “She is,” I say.

  The hostess turns toward me. “Mmm, mmm, mmm. Aren’t you scrumptious?” She eyes me up and down slowly before turning back to Tenley. “He yours, sweetheart? If so, you’d better hang on tight. I’m just one of a few dozen ladies who wouldn’t mind stealing him right out from under your nose. Mmm, mmm. That is one delicious man, right there.”

  I smile. “Thank you?”

  “Oh, honey.” The hostess pats the side of my cheek with her large paw. “I would rip you in two and relish every minute of it.” She laughs, a large and bo
oming laugh not at all conducive to her voice, as she shows us to our seats.

  “Is this a drag bar?” Tenley whispers in my ear.

  “With dinner and a show,” I answer.

  She wraps her arms around mine and squeezes. “I love it!”

  A husky, bearded Marilyn Monroe comes to take our drink order just as a stunningly beautiful Cher takes the stage and welcomes us all to KISS.

  I order a beer and Tenley a signature cocktail, and we settle in to enjoy the show. One cocktail turns into two for Tenley and she quickly becomes an entertainer favorite. It helps that our table is close to the stage as she claps and sings, dancing in her chair to each new song. She’s soon pulled up on stage by Madonna for a duet to “Burning Up,” which is apparently one of her favorite songs.

  I video the performance for Sadie, knowing she’ll be sad she missed it, but stop as Madonna and Tenley approach.

  “Now, you go girl, you show your man how you’re burning up for his love. And if you don’t do it, I will!” She laughs and the crowd eggs Tenley on. I hold my arms out to her, happy to play along. She dances toward me, closer and closer, until I’m getting one hell of a lap dance. She turns as the song ends and half collapses against me, straddling my lap. I wrap my arms around her to hold her in place.

  “Hi,” she says breathily, her face flushed and slightly sweaty.

  Her own arms snake around my neck and as the spotlight hits us, and the audience chants, “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”

  I pull her head toward mine with my good hand and do exactly that.

  And then I do it again.

  39

  Tenley

  Brad and I have been dating for almost two weeks. We see each other almost every day between finishing everything with the recruitment fair and when he takes me out. But we haven’t had sex again. We haven’t even talked about it. While I don’t want to be the one to bring it up, it’s kind of driving me crazy. I’m used to a guy wanting to have sex right away. On the first date, even. And since Brad and I have already had sex, multiple times, I assumed it would be a given.

  So far? No go.

  Sadie thinks I’m being silly, and I should just enjoy the attention. Maybe I should. But I have to wonder if he just isn’t attracted to me like that. We kiss, but nothing hot and heavy. He gives me sweet kisses at the end of the night before he leaves. And when I tried to take it further, he gently shot me down. We haven’t talked again about us, since that time at the hospital.

  Today is the recruitment fair, and the first time I’ll see Brad in two days. He went back to work this week, in a limited capacity since he still doesn’t have the use of his right hand. I think back to that guy who was so passionate and distraught—who busted his hand punching the wall—and try to reconcile that guy with this one, who is all sweetness and patience, and I have a hard time.

  I’m ready to crawl the freakin’ walls if we don’t have sex again soon. Like, for real.

  I double-check my appearance in the mirror as I get ready to head down to the park where the fair will be. Slim fitting boyfriend jeans, a snug, navy-blue V-neck t-shirt, my favorite Converse, my hair back in a ponytail and tucked through the hole of an SSFD baseball cap.

  “As good as it’s gonna get, Ten,” I tell myself.

  I grab my lip gloss and tuck it in a small purse along with some cash—which I never leave home without anymore—my ID, a credit card, and my cell phone. As soon as I grab my keys, I’m out the door.

  I stop short.

  Brad is standing on my front porch, getting ready to knock on the door. He’s wearing shorts, athletic shoes, and a deliciously snug SSFD t-shirt, with a backward baseball cap. He looks positively edible.

  “Hey,” I say, not being able to stop the smile that takes over my face. “What are you doing here?”

  “Thought I’d pick up my girl, save her the trouble of having to find a parking spot.” He moves toward me to give me a hug. My heart jumps when he says my girl.

  “Your girl?” I ask, hating how tentative my voice sounds.

  “Yeah.” He frowns. “Why do you say it like that?”

  I reverse my steps until my back hits my front door. Brad keeps advancing until we are nose to nose, pushing my baseball cap up and out of the way with his forehead.

  He cocks his head to the side. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Fine.”

  “Are you saying you’re not my girl?”

  “Well. No, I guess not. I mean, I just, well, I wasn’t sure, I didn’t know.” I throw my hands up in the air, flustered.

  “Didn’t know what?” His hips press against me, and I can feel his hard length.

  Oh, I want that length. I miss that length.

  I glance up and meet his gaze, his lips dangerously close to capturing mine. “I, uh, wasn’t sure where this was headed,” I admit.

  “You didn’t?” he asks, his nose running the length of my cheek, his voice soft.

  My breath catches, and I shake my head.

  “What did you think was happening?” He nuzzles my bare neck, breathing in as he goes. It literally weakens my knees.

  “I don’t know,” I stammer. I’m surprised. This is a new Brad, not quite the passionate bathroom banger I first encountered, but also not the “sweet kisses at the end of a date” guy. This one is carnal. Magnetic. Dangerous.

  He plants a soft kiss behind my ear. “What about the goodnight kisses? What were they leading up to?” His voice is deep and husky, and he trails his lips down my collarbone. His good hand grips my hip and his casted hand rests against the door above my head. He smells good, like some kind of freshness and spice.

  My hands make their way up his chest, stopping to feel the muscles there along the way.

  My god, the body on this man.

  I shiver.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he says as his lips ghost across mine. “I think it was leading up to tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  He nods as he nibbles at my bottom lip before going in for a mind-blowing kiss. I stretch my body up and against him, and my arms make their way around his neck, his good arm pulling me tight to him. One of us moans, I’m pretty sure it was me, and it’s all I can do not to strip off my clothes right there and ask him to take me inside and make love to me until I can no longer move.

  Brad slows the kiss and pulls away slightly. “Fuck.” His forehead leans against mine.

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “I meant for that to tide me over until later, but I think it’s had the opposite effect.”

  “Yeah.”

  My eyes are at half-mast, and I know that I’m kiss-drunk, and probably look it. He kisses me on the tip of my nose.

  “You ready for today?” His good hand squeezes my ass.

  “I am. You?”

  “Yup.” He kisses me again, this time lightly, then takes my hand and leads me to the truck.

  As we’re heading down the hill, he turns to me and says, “Hey, you got that I meant we’re going to fuck each other’s brains out tonight, right?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  He smiles. “Good.” It transforms his face, from handsome to straight up beautiful to look at.

  “Yeah.” I can’t help but smile back.

  The recruitment fair is a huge success. We get forty decent candidates between the two agencies, and both the police and fire chiefs are happy. We get to meet Nessa’s male companion and the four of us grab a quick bite to eat together after the fair. The more time I spend with Nessa, the more I like her. And I feel she is instrumental in changing Brad’s tune with getting involved again, for which I am eternally grateful. More so, when we finally make it back to my house over twelve hours later.

  I’m exhausted and amped at the same time.

  I grab us both a bottled water from the fridge and bring it into the living room, where he stands looking out over the city lights, similar to what I often do at night.

  I move to put my arms around him from behind. He turns in my
embrace to face me, then leans in and gives me a small kiss.

  “Hi,” he says.

  “Hey.”

  Our mouths meet, and suddenly I’m desperate to feel him. I push his ball cap off his head and it falls to the floor, then I push his t-shirt up, licking and biting my way along his abs up to his nipples. He pulls my face to his and takes my mouth in a kiss that is nothing like the others. This kiss is more like two weeks of pent-up sexual energy pouring out from his lips to mine.

  He uses his good hand to try to pull my t-shirt off, so I move to help him. Standing before him in just my bra and jeans. Thank god I’d put on a pretty bra—this one is a dark purple and black, with matching panties. It’s one of my favorites.

  He runs his hand up my bare belly and cups my breast.

  “I almost forgot how exquisite you are.” He pulls one bra cup down to release my breast, and laves the nipple with his tongue, biting lightly.

  “Oh, Brad,” I moan.

  He reaches behind me and unsnaps my bra. It falls to the ground beside my t-shirt, then he reaches behind him to pull his own off. I push against him, wanting to feel nipples to skin. He takes my hand and leads me to my bedroom. My heart beats fast and my breath becomes shallow. All I can think about is having this man inside me once again.

  He pushes me back onto my bed.

  Maybe he feels the same about being inside me.

  I smile and push back until I’m closer to the headboard, with most of my pillows bunched up behind me. Brad pulls me back down by my ankles until I’m prone. My jeans come off next, followed quickly by my soaked through panties. He brings them to his nose and inhales deeply.

  “Fuck, I love the way you smell.”

  That does it. I’m practically panting, waiting to see what he will do next.

  He moves his lips down my chest, nipping and kissing as he goes. I thrust my breasts forward, trying to get him to take more into his mouth, but he just keeps teasing.

  “Please,” I beg.

  “Please what?” he asks. “This one first?” He moves his lips to take my breast into his mouth.

  “Oh, yes.” His touch is warm and wet as he suckles, each pull from his lips reaching down through the center of my body, building toward release. My body so starved for his touch, I’m going to orgasm without him even going near my pussy.