Experiment In Love

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Experiment In Love Page 4

by Clay Estrada, Rita


  “I decided to call and apologize.” His voice held a tinge of humor. “And now I find out I must apologize, again, for the time. I’ll call you again tomorrow. Sweet dreams. Goodnight.”

  “Wait a minute!” Vicky exclaimed, now sitting straight up and wide awake. “Now that I’m up, you might as well continue.”

  His husky chuckle resounded in her ear and a small tremor feathered down her spine to thread through her veins and warm her insides. “I just wanted to say hello and that I’m sorry for my boorishness. I’m afraid I assumed too much.”

  “Right.” she stated. “And I accept your apology.” She rested the phone on her shoulder and hugged her knees, suddenly feeling totally happy.

  “Am I forgiven?”

  “Of course.”

  “Enough for you to go out with me again?”

  “Yes.”

  Kurt chuckled. “If you had answered my question like that the other night I wouldn’t have to be apologizing now,” he teased.

  “If I had answered your question like that you’d still be here,” she retorted.

  “Are you that sure of your staying power?”

  “I’m that sure of yours.”

  “So I did get through that Victorian shield of yours!”

  “Victorian!" she shrieked indignantly. “You’re the one who’s a mass of contradictions!”

  Suddenly he sounded wary. “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll discuss it with you the next time we meet.”

  “Tomorrow at eight.”

  “Sorry. I have a date then.”

  “He sighed. “The next night, same time.”

  “No can do. But the night after is free.”

  He was surprised at his feeling of irritation. “Who with?” he snapped without bothering to hide his sudden feelings.

  “No one you know. Is it a date or not?” She waited for his reply, trying to keep her heart from thumping into the phone.

  “See you then.” His voice softened. “Oh, Victoria?”

  “Yes?” She held her breath.

  “Buy a new dress, one with a little style. The last one was definitely not you.”

  He hung up, smiling to himself. She had a lovely voice, even on the phone. His mind conjured up a picture of her as she had looked that night in his arms. Her eyes had been wide with discovery, her face flushed to a becoming pink. Her hair was loose, silky and flowed like dark soft rainwater through his fingers…

  He gulped down the remainder of his drink and walked briskly into the bedroom. Suddenly he was happy, but tired. What he needed was a good night’s sleep.

  ***

  Victoria was impatient for Kurt to show up. She had dressed in a plain black cotton sheath with a V-neck and a hint of gray lace at the edge of the short sleeve and hem. Her hair was simple; long and sleek hanging down her back. She could see her reflection in the mirror and was pleased. She didn’t ask herself too many probing questions concerning her feelings for Kurt Wentworth. Nothing mattered at this point but that he enjoy her company as much as she did his – enough to answer some questions for her article. That was a lie: She couldn’t have cared less about the article at this point. She wanted to see Kurt again. Period.

  Victoria jumped nervously when the doorbell rang, and then reminded herself to walk sedately toward it as if he could see her through the wooden door.

  Her smile soon turned to surprise, however, when she found her uncle standing in the hallway with a sheepish smile.

  “Hi, honey. Can I come in for a minute?” She grinned at his hesitancy, thinking that it looked like being there was the last thing he wanted to do. She tried to lighten his spirit by curtsying to allow him entrance.

  “Of course. When my favorite uncle and landlord calls he’s always welcome,” she teased, giving his arm a squeeze as he walked by. “What’s the matter, Uncle Jake? You look lost.”

  He sat uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa, his glance taking in the small room. “Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this, and I wouldn’t bring it up unless I had no choice. You know that, don’t you?” He begged her to understand and she automatically nodded, wondering what in heaven’s name he was talking about.

  “They say sharing a problem cuts it in half, so tell me what’s the matter.” She sat across from him, concern showing in her eyes.

  “I, uh, I have to raise the monthly rent, honey. The roof needs fixing and so does the plumbing, and unless I can raise the rent I won’t be able to cover the payments on the second mortgage I need.” His eyes skipped around the room again before landing somewhere around her shoulder. “I waited as long as I could, but you know how it is. I’m in a bind, and you often said that the apartment was more than reasonable. And with today’s prices …” His voice dwindled away uncertainly.

  “Good grief,” she muttered under her breath, suddenly seeing herself being unable to live within her budget, even if she could find a full-time job.

  “It’s either that or maybe you could find another place to live, one where the landlord doesn’t have so many problems keeping up with inflation.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  She reached over and patted his hand. “I know you are, and it can’t be helped. You’ve been a rock these past years, Uncle Jake. It’s my fault for not seeing it coming and preparing for it. I knew this rent was too good to last but I just went blithely on my way.’’ She turned over a multitude of alternatives in her mind, but she couldn’t find a quick and sure answer so she asked the one question that crowded out every other. “How much more rent money do you need?”

  He named a figure and Victoria just closed her eyes. It wasn’t an outrageous sum, but there was no way she could fit that into her existing budget or find an extra job to cover it. She was sunk. There was no question he could easily command that price for her apartment — correction, his apartment — but it still put her out into the street. She decided to test the firmness of the ground gently. “You know you could probably ask my mother for the money and she’d get it for you.”

  He stiffened his already straight spine, his eyes snapping coldly. “No!” was his only answer.

  She sighed, patting his hand to tell him that she understood. After all, she could probably ask her mother for her extra rent money and get it, but that wasn’t her way. She hadn’t tried to make it on her own over the past seven years, doing without if she had to, just to ask for money now. Uncle Jake and she thought alike. Never.

  “When do you want me to move?” She looked up at her uncle and suddenly felt sorry for him. He didn’t like this any better than she did but that didn’t help the immediate problem.

  “I can give you the rest of this month, Honey, but that’s about it.”

  “Three weeks,” she muttered under her breath, quickly figuring out her daily calendar and realizing that her budget might not even get her that far. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something. It’s not your problem, Uncle Jake.”

  His expression was so hang-dog that she wanted to laugh, but she was afraid she just might loosen a tear and then he’d really be upset “If you can’t find anything by then, perhaps you could move in with me. I’ve always got the couch,” he offered, but she knew the old poker buddies who played at her uncle’s house a couple of times a week wouldn’t take to that idea very well.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure I can work something out. There’s bound to be someone who needs a roommate to share a reasonable rent,” she assured him with more bravado than she felt. Something had to break – and soon, or she’d be going home with her tail between her legs and begging her mother to take her back. She’d never live that one down. Ever.

  Five minutes after her Uncle Jake left, the doorbell rang again. All the excitement she had felt earlier was now gone and she answered it absentmindedly, waving Kurt in as she tried to calm her churning thoughts.

  She called over her shoulder as she walked into the small kitchen, “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “N
o, thanks.”

  She poured herself one and stood at the kitchen sink, her mind whirling like a tornado.

  What’s the matter?” he asked after a few minutes of almost total silence.

  For the first time since he had arrived she looked, really looked, at him. He was wearing a pair of black slacks that had been molded to him and a brown silk shirt, open at the throat and rolled up at the cuffs. His hair was brushed into a studiedly casual style, his eyes crinkling into a slow smile.

  His hand cupped her chin as he silently stared down at the rounded outline of her mouth. Her mind woke up to her company as her heart reacted to his delving glance. She swallowed hard as she watched him watching her. A primitive excitement coursed through her veins at the deliberately sensuous unspoken message she saw in his eyes and she silently answered affirmatively. Her hand led a teasing trail up his shoulder to circle his corded neck and slowly she brought his lips to hers in an almost innocent kiss as they greeted each other again. Victoria felt a shiver go down his spine, yet she knew that his reaction was no stronger than hers.

  He reluctantly pulled away, his hands absently caressing her arms. His forehead rested on hers as they both caught up with their rocketing emotions.

  “I still want you. Very much,” he murmured huskily, his tone holding an element of surprise. “You know that.”

  Victoria nodded, unable to speak.

  “Are you going to continue to say no?”

  “I think we need to know each other better,” she finally murmured.

  “Why? You feel the same.”

  “Because I want to be loved by the whole man, not just the part that controls his passion.”

  He stiffened in her arms. “I’m not promising to love you, Vicky. I do promise that I want to make love to you. Those are two different things.”

  “Poor Kurt.” Her voice was soft with muted laughter, slightly shaky. “Are you so afraid of the word love that you have to define it from the act of making love – and everything you say, everything you feel?”

  He relaxed. “I’ve been misunderstood before and I’d like to continue our relationship. I just want you to understand me.”

  “And I want you to understand me, too. That’s exactly why we’re waiting.” She turned in his arms and forced herself to walk to the couch. She sat down and stared at him as he stood in the hallway. “So make up your mind. Do we go at my pace, or not at all?” She held up a hand as she talked. “I might as well warn you now. By the end of a few dates I might decide we’re not suited and this goes no further.” Her other hand was at her side and as she spoke she kept her fingers crossed as she mentally repeated a silent prayer. She had never been so affected by a man before and to call it off now would be like putting a lid on breathing.

  His eyes twinkled ruefully. Even to Victoria it was obvious that he wasn’t used to having someone else call the shots. “All right, we’ll get to know each other and see where it leads.”

  She stood and flipped back her hair, oblivious to the dramatic change in her appearance since the last time he had seen her, and when she looked up and saw the look of appreciation in his eyes she smiled in return. “Ready to go?”

  He seemed to be in another world and her words brought him back to earth. “What?”

  “I said, are you ready to go?” She pronounced the words slowly, dimples appearing like magic at the comers of her mouth. She was not going to let her Uncle’s news change this date.

  “Yes. Where should we go? And where are your glasses? They were so thick they couldn’t have been part of that costume you were wearing.”

  “Last date you chose the place, so now it’s my turn. And my glasses are in my bedroom. I usually wear contacts.” She had reached for her purse, then put out her hand for him to clasp as they walked to the door of the apartment He hesitated just a moment before accepting her hand, perhaps still wary of showing more commitment than he felt.

  “Oh, and that ‘costume’ as you call it, was just an old dress that did its job quite adequately.”

  “Except with me.”

  “Except with you,” she agreed softly. “But then, there’s an exception to every rule.”

  “There certainly is,” he muttered under his breath, giving her hand a light but possessive squeeze that warmed her whole body. His eyes spoke volumes, blatantly expressing what his words hadn’t said.

  A little over an hour later he was muttering disbelievingly under his breath. She had dragged him into a pizza parlor whose specialty was the “everything” pizza, then eaten six pieces by herself. It was hard to believe that such a slender woman could eat so much. Most women he knew didn’t eat more than a salad.

  They both had a beer while Kurt looked around the 1920s-style parlor.

  Her eyes gave him a teasing look. “Cheer up. The way you’re carrying on, someone would think you’ve never been to a pizza parlor before.”

  “One would, wouldn’t one,” he grumbled, glancing over his shoulder at a group of teenage boys standing around an electronic video game, their whoops of joy or moans of despair occasionally splitting the air.

  She stopped chewing. “Holy cow, you really haven’t, have you?” Her tone was incredulous, but his expression confirmed her suspicions. “Where in the world have you been living? On the moon?”

  “Surprisingly enough, right here in L.A. until four years ago when I moved to Santa Barbara.” He glanced around. “But you’re wrong. I used to live in places like these when I was in college.” He stared back at her. “I see life continues…” He muttered the last sentence under his breath as one of the boys gave a victory cheer that rent the air.

  She shook her head, her dark mahogany hair swinging back and forth in a shiny cascade. “Oh, no. You don’t get to look down your aristocratic nose at us poor plebeians, mister. Now that I’ve satisfied my food cravings I’m going to teach you how to play Destroyer. And you’re going to like it.” She stood and held out her hand. “Consider it a growth experience.”

  She sat him down at a small electronic table and then took the seat opposite him, putting her hand out for the quarters she’d told him to get earlier. He handed them over, an indulgent grin on his face as he watched her slip them in the slot and turn the machine on.

  “Now watch me,” she said, and began firing away, shooting the enemy that darted between her blockades as the enemy shot back and the score added up.

  Victoria leaned back, a smile on her face. “There, see how it’s done? Your turn.”

  Kurt’s smile was still indulgent, humoring her. The game flashed on and he began hitting the buttons, his smile turning to a frown of concentration.

  When it was over Victoria gave him a look of appreciation. “That was great! I’ve never seen anyone get nine hundred points on their first try!”

  “Put another quarter in there, will you, Victoria?” he mumbled, studying the game plan and points chart, totally occupied with a new toy.

  “Again?”

  “Mmmmm.” His next score was even more impressive, as were his next and his next. By his fifth game his face was flushed with victory. He gave her a huge smile, sat back and sipped on the now warm beer. From the look on his face she could see that he was definitely proud of his accomplishment.

  ‘‘Congratulations.” She smiled sweetly.

  “Thank you. It wasn’t bad, was it?’

  “I meant on your single-mindedness. Your games speak for themselves.”

  One brow rose while a sexy smile still tugged at his sensuous lips. “Jealous of a machine, Victoria?” he murmured seductively, now concentrating totally on her. “You won’t let me do anything else. I have to find my fun where I can.” He hesitated. “That is, unless…?” He raised one dark brow in question, letting the unfinished sentence dangle, and she felt her skin warm under his look.

  Victoria shifted, only to touch his knee with hers, and she jerked back, ignoring his knowing look.

  “We can leave now ... if you want to try things at my pace.” His
husky voice was low so the surrounding people couldn’t hear, but firm enough that it brought every nerve in her body to life.

  “This pace is good enough for me,” she said primly, knowing that what she wanted most was to be held in his arms, his full, warm lips pressing against hers. He seemed to be able to reach deep inside her easily, frighteningly and, most of all, excitingly. Fear and fascination blended together to put a sparkle in her eyes.

  “That’s what I thought, Victoria. So I won’t push — right now.” His look seared her skin. “But don’t expect me to be good forever. Sooner or later we’ll have a meeting of our bodies. It’s what we both want”.

  She ignored his remark. She couldn’t deny it.

  The rest of the evening passed quickly. They played some of the other machines, Victoria winning several games by a very small margin. A few times she lost badly, unable to concentrate with Kurt standing so near to her. His arm would brush hers, his thigh touch hers, and her heartbeat became erratic.

  A few hours later, their quarters spent and both satisfied that they had played well, Victoria waved goodbye to the bartender and led Kurt outside into the cool night air.

  She took a deep breath. “Lovely, isn’t it? Especially at night, when the smog isn’t so obvious. Sometimes I swear I can smell the sea.”

  “You aren’t that far away from it.” His voice held a tinge of humor.

  “Oh, I know. It’s just that Los Angeles doesn’t conjure up visions of high surf and rolling waves, but” — she shrugged philosophically — “it’s the best we can do when we have to earn our daily bread.” As the mental image of her almost bare cupboard came to mind she thought that she wasn’t even doing that well.

  They strolled down the street, Kurt unaware of where she was leading, but not caring much, either.

  “Here we are.” She pushed open the glass-fronted door of Hal’s Hot Dog Stand, allowing the mixed aromas of onions, relish, mustard and sizzling hot dogs to waft in his direction, helping it with her waving hand. “Isn’t that great? Hal makes the best hot dogs in town.”

 

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