“Nervous?” David asks, his eyes coming to mine from his watching my hand. Damn nervous habit. I scold myself for again being caught by him as I rub my finger and thumb together absentmindedly.
“No. Well, maybe a little,” I admit skittishly. I can’t show my hand.
“Is it the boat? We can go back to shore.”
“No!” I blurt. “I’m fine. Really.” Get it together, Crystal. “So. Which building do you work in?” I ask. I need to suss out if he’s really a businessman or a con artist.
He tells me the name of the building and then tries to point it out. When I don’t seem to see the one he’s describing, he has me stand, and he comes up close next to me and leans over so our heads are practically touching, so we can have the most similar view as he points. He smells so damn good, and his warm, comforting voice is so close to my ear, and his breath on my neck creates so many sensations that I can barely make out what he’s saying.
My head is buzzing loudly, but then I realize it’s just a couple of crazy wave runners. They burn past the boat way too close to the Princess Bonnie, and their wake causes the boat to rock. I lose my footing and start to fall over.
Before I know it, I’m in David’s arms. I must look like the biggest klutz to him! I fell into his arms last night when someone bumped me on the street and now here.
His muscular arms hold me close to him, our chests tight together. His bare arms, heated by the sun, burn my own where they touch, and his scent surrounds me like an electric blanket making me buzz and heat all over. I fix my eyes to his neck and see his heartbeat thumping in the soft spot to the left of his sexy-as-hell Adam’s apple. Could he be as affected as me? Or is it just that the jet ski kids startled him?
After the boat has steadied, David lifts one arm and with a tentative finger, he traces my jaw stopping under my chin. Gently, he lifts my chin until I have no choice but to look at him. My eyes stop briefly at his mouth, the lips that have held my attention for the past two hours. He pushes a bit more until our eyes meet, and his hand cups my face. Those eyes. The sunlight glinting off the water gives them a clear, hypnotic cast. I can’t look away.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice is breathy. I’m half wondering if he’s as affected as I am when I realize his arousal is pushing right into my belly. He’s affected. Big time. Emphasis on big.
Slowly, his head lowers, and the instant his lips touch mine, my eyes close, and my entire body melts. His lips are so gentle, I want to cry. He lingers, and nothing is rushed. This kiss is like clear skies and blazing sunshine mixed with silver moonlight and twinkling stars. My head is spinning, and my tummy has a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering to escape. So unbelievably different than I’ve ever been kissed before.
I desperately want to dip my tongue into his mouth. I want to taste him, but I don’t want to rush things. I don’t want to seem too brazen or like a common slut. He’d taken this long to kiss me. I want to savor every single millisecond knowing all too well that once certain lines are crossed, going back isn't an option. I won’t rush this. I won’t ruin it. I will absolutely bask in the tenderness and perfection of this first kiss. A kiss that definitely doesn’t feel like a game. It feels more like a promise.
David’s hands slide up my arms, and he sinks his fingers into my hair, and I can feel the desperation in his kiss and touch just before he pulls back and rests his forehead on mine.
I'm disappointed that the kiss is over. Then I scold myself for not making a move for more. I should have tasted him. Now we’re done. He'll think I'm too sophomoric already asking if I was even over twenty-one, and he probably wants a more assertive type. He brought me to a very private place after all. A place with not one but two beds.
He lets out a shaky breath and says, “I’ll have to thank those kids later.”
“Sorry?” I ask, pulling back to see what was perhaps written on his face, not sure what he is implying. Did the kids on the wave runners do something to make him stop?
“I’ve been looking for an excuse to kiss you all day. Without their nudge, I would still be strategizing how I was going to get you in my arms.”
My heart swells upon hearing this, and I smile involuntarily. I wrap my arms around his waist and feeling brave, say, “Well, you can add my thanks when you talk to them.”
With that, David's mouth returns to mine, and this time, the kiss is far less sweet and innocent. It’s hungry and passionate. He turns his head to deepen the kiss and his tongue sweeps across my lower lip seeking entrance. In that moment, he possessed me. Our tongues met, dancing and exploring. His moves are elegant and measured… cultured. It’s like he’s making love to my mouth. I can feel my nipples harden under my swim top and shirt, and heat pools between my legs.
If this is how he kisses, I can only imagine what he’s like in bed.
14
A Breather
CRYSTAL
When I wake up on Sunday, I’m positively giddy. Yesterday was the most amazing date I’ve ever had. My entire life feels like a dream, but every time I pinch myself, I practically leave a bruise on my arm.
I roll over and check my phone to find three texts. One from Lainey and two from David. I open David’s messages first. Hope I’m not waking you up, but I had to tell you. Had a great time on the lake today. Hope we can get together again soon! And the next one, Sweet dreams. XO.
I smile. I’ve never dated a guy who was so thoughtful. Austin never sent any ‘had a great time’ messages. Neither did the other dozen or so guys I’d had a date or two with. They were always ‘too cool’ to message or call the next day, and often they didn’t ever call again which was why I stopped dating anyone and ‘stuck’ with Austin. David sure does make me feel special. And I hadn’t even gone to bed with him yet. Maybe that was the key.
Next, I look at Lainey’s text. I have coffee & croissants. Come over when u get up and tell me all about the past 48!
I quickly get myself ready, looking forward to telling someone about how amazing the last two days have been.
After filling Lainey in, she looks like she’s ready to burst. “He sounds amazing! And I can’t believe you haven’t taken a selfie with him,” she chides. “I need to meet this guy. Stat. I’ll figure out what he’s hiding.”
“Maybe I’m just being paranoid,” I offer.
“Always trust your gut, Tali. If you feel like he’s hiding something, he’s hiding something.” I almost tell Lainey that I’m probably transferring my own guilt to him. After all, I am definitely hiding things from him. Even from her. I don’t answer much about my family or past. She seems to have realized that, and for some reason, doesn’t push.
Our conversation turns to all that she has to finish up for her art show now that the contracts had been locked in. The show is in five weeks, and she still has a couple of canvases to complete—the one I’d seen on her easel, and because of the extra space the gallery afforded her thanks to Trent’s super negotiating skill—a panoramic she was inspired to create. It’ll be a skyline combining several of the world’s most famous towers from Chicago’s Sears—okay, fine, Willis Tower—to London’s famous Big Ben clock tower, the Eiffel Tower, the new Freedom Tower in New York, the Needle in Seattle, the Sydney Opera House, and maybe an Egyptian Pyramid. I’m in awe at how her mind works.
“If I have time, I’m going to do two versions—one daytime and one nighttime with glowing lights and sparkling stars.”
As she talks, she’s practically vibrating with artistic energy, so I let her head to her paints and canvases, and I head back to my place.
Back in my apartment, I call my mom while I get dressed for the day and am astounded that she’s still on the proverbial wagon. A whole week today. I tell myself that she’s really getting her things together, and with Jude coming home later this week, she has a really strong focus. I feel pangs of homesickness wishing I could be there for all of it, but my rational brain takes over, and I tell myself that if I hadn’t left, Mom
would still be carrying on like an irresponsible teenager.
I head out on my own to do some more exploring and discover an awesome trail created by an old train line called The 606. I watch runners, bikers, and families all along the route and entertain a quick daydream about walking this trail with my mom and Jude. If they could just both keep their lives on the rails.
When I wake on Monday, I message Lainey about her plans, and it seems she’s elbow deep in her painting, so I don’t bother her. But I’m bored. Without a job, I feel so useless. I thought not having a job would be fun, but it’s actually rather frustrating. Besides, I’m not sure I can actually make a whole year on the winnings. Everything in Chicago is so much more expensive than back home from rent to groceries to even sales tax. I spend some time on the internet looking at some job opportunities, but I’m going to be picky. Not finding anything that really strikes my fancy, my thoughts turn to Millie’s offer to work for her dad as well as the opportunity of volunteering at the library.
Finding the scrap of paper the woman gave me last week, I visit the website and fill out the information excited about the possibility.
But what to do until I get some job or volunteer position to keep me busy?
Over the week, I watch some TV and continue to explore the city finding all the free and very cheap things to do, thrilled that I actually live here. On my own.
Walking down State Street, I pass a newsstand where the owner is stringing up a banner announcing they had sold a winning lottery ticket. My heart leaps for the winner and the newsstand owner. I stop and look over the various newspapers and magazines. The cover of a magazine called Chicago Now catches my eye with a beautiful woman and a caption about Chicago’s 20 Most Eligible Singles. There’s also an article about 128 Things to Do in Chicago This Summer. I’m just about to pick up the magazine when my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and see it’s my mother.
My gut drops, and I silently pray it’s not bad news and continue my way down State Street without buying the magazine. I’ll find activities to do in the city online.
“Hi, Mom,” I say as cheerily as I can despite my fear.
“Hey, baby! It’s Mom.”
“Yeah, I know,” I reply with a nervous laugh totally vexed as to what is going on.
“Are you at work? I don’t want you to get into trouble with your boss. It’s after five, but I don’t know what time you work until.”
Guilt stabs at my heart as I form my response. “No. I’m done for the day. What’s up?”
“You know that noodle casserole you make? The one that Jude loves? I want to make it for him when he comes home. Can you tell me the recipe?”
I exhale the massive breath I was holding and let a grin replace my worry lines.
Mom tells me she has a pen and paper, and I tell her how to make my ‘famous’ tuna casserole.
Once that’s all settled, Mom says, “I’m eleven days sober, baby.”
I can hardly believe it’s already been eleven days since she turned over this new leaf. And likewise, I can’t believe I’ve been in Chicago nearly three weeks.
“I’m so super proud of you, Mom,” I tell her honestly. “I wish I were there to give you a hug.”
“Me, too,” she says, sounding a little choked up. “It’s not easy, but I’m working the twelve steps, and I’m feeling better and stronger every day.”
“You’ve got this, Mom. I believe in you.”
We chat a little more with her telling me about her job, and I’m stunned at how much she’s enjoying cleaning houses with Candy, and even how she’s enjoyed going to church last week. I tell her about some of my new friends but avoid mentioning anything about David. It’s Thursday, and I haven’t heard from him since the day on the boat. Every day I hoped to hear from him, and every day my phone has been silent. I try and not let the disappointment get to me. After all, I kinda predicted this.
We say our goodbyes, and I decide to head to the library to get lost in a good book.
DAVID
“Earth to David. Come in David,” Jimmy Goodman jokes, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
“Hey, sorry. What were you saying?” I answer, trying to shake these ridiculously strong feelings I am still feeling for Talia.
My heart and head have been warring the past three days. I am nearly desperate to go out with her again and have had Chip drive by the front of her building so many times trying to get a glimpse of Talia coming out or going. I’m surprised there hasn’t been some sort of restraining order slapped on me. On the other hand, I feel like she’s hiding something, and not for nothing, I don’t want to get hurt. It’s why I don’t do relationships. Been there, done that. But still, there’s something about Talia’s vulnerability that draws me to her.
You get her, and she gets you, a small voice whispers in my head, and I will it to shut up.
“You’ve been distracted since this weekend. Is everything okay?” Jimmy asks.
Jimmy’s more than one of the lawyers who works for my family, he’s practically family, and I trust him more than anyone I know. He and my dad met years ago when Jimmy was starting out as a young lawyer in Chicago working in my Dad’s firm. Jimmy showed his worth early, and my dad says he was invaluable. The two got along really great. My dad says that Jimmy was like his little brother, and the two have been best friends ever since.
“I went out with someone this weekend.”
“Oh? Another set-up from your mother? She really does mean well.”
“No, actually. Someone I met at the aquarium,” I confess.
“Really?”
“She’s so… different than anyone I’ve ever met before.” I feel a smile pull at my lips, and I don’t fight it. “She has this reddish-blonde hair and sparkly, silver-blue eyes. She has these adorable freckles across her nose.” I melt into my thoughts of Talia—her svelte body, soft and not boney like some of those models I’ve been out with. Jim clears his throat, and I continue. "She has a quiet confidence, yet she seems so guarded. She’s far from flashy. We first went to The Signature Room on Friday night. She seemed overwhelmed by the place and ordered the cheapest thing on the menu. And on Saturday, I took her out on the Bonnie. She’s never been on a boat. Can you imagine? And, I don’t mean to sound vain, but it seems she doesn’t know who I am.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No! It’s a great thing! After dinner, her heels were hurting her, so she ducked into a drug store and bought a pair of flats that are designed to fold up and tuck into her purse. They were less than twenty bucks. I’ve never been with a girl more concerned with comfort than fashion.”
“I don’t see the problem,” Jimmy says with a shrug.
I pause to find the right words. “She’s hiding something. I can’t put my finger on it, and call me paranoid, but what if she’s part of some ring to bilk the family of money?”
“Does she seem conniving?”
“No.”
“Do you think you’re just looking for excuses?”
Well, that comment sure hits the mark. I’ve talked to Jimmy about almost every date I’ve been on since the divorce and especially since being voted this stupid Most Eligible Single title bullshit. He’s not wrong. I seem to find something wrong with every girl I go out with. I don’t mind. I’m happy being single. Or at least I thought I was. Until last Thursday when I met the mystery woman from the restaurant at the aquarium.
I also can’t help but wonder if I’m projecting my own guilt for keeping things from her, like my actual name.
“Do you have any more plans to see her?” Jimmy asks.
I shake my head.
“Why not?”
I shrug because I don’t have a good answer. Not at all. Then something Talia said on the boat hits me. “She likes country music.”
“You can’t be thinking that’s a bad thing,” Jimmy says. “Give the girl a break. And country music…” he adds defending his favorite music genre.
“I don
’t mean that’s a bad thing. My thought was you like country. Do you have any suggestions? I mean, Chicago is known for the blues. There has to be some country options here, right?”
“Funny you should mention it. There’s actually a country music festival this weekend down in the Museum Park area. Some really big names will be there but lots of up and coming artists, too.”
“For real? Awesome. Could you get Talia and me a couple of tickets for Saturday? You don’t think they’re sold out, do you?”
“You’re not going to the tournament?” Jimmy asks with surprise. Crap. I’d totally forgotten I committed to play in a foursome for a round of golf to raise money for the Children’s Hospital.
“No,” I sigh, disappointment fills my heart. I’d have to wait another day to see Talia.
“The festival goes through Sunday,” Jimmy offers.
“Yes! Let’s do it.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“You’re the best!”
“I know,” Jimmy replies modestly.
Feeling a little freed up from my thoughts about Talia, Jimmy and I finish our business, and he leaves my office promising to get the tickets to me.
I pick up my phone and send Talia a text. Hope you’re having a good week. Can’t stop thinking about you. Are you free this Sunday? There’s a music festival I want to take you to.
I almost send it, but decide last minute that the ‘Can’t stop thinking about you’ line is a bit much, so I delete that part and hit send.
15
A Little Song
CRYSTAL
When my phone pings late Thursday, my stomach flutters with excitement seeing it’s from David. I was so convinced he had dismissed me.
I open the text and read it twice. Hope you’re having a good week. Are you free this Sunday? There’s a music festival I want to take you to.
Win for Love Page 15
