Spinster?

by Thompson, Nikki Mathis

  "Why? Because I want to know, silly."

  He signed his name on the charge slip and stood. "July 15th." He pulled out her chair and held her suit jacket up.

  She smiled and put her arms inside. "Thank you." She flipped her hair out of the collar and took his offered arm. When he didn't ask the same question paused. "Aren't you going to ask me when my birthday is?"

  He held open the door. "Nope." Okay. She slid on her sunglasses as they waited by the curb for his car. The valet pulled up to the curb and Wes waved him off so he could help her into his SUV. He put his hand on her lower back as she stepped up into the car, rubbing the material with his thumb. He shut her door and ran around to his side, tipping the young valet. When he put on his seat belt, he reversed and said, "May 21st." A slow smile crept on her face.

  "And how, pray tell, did you know my birthday?"

  "I don't consider dating anyone without a background check. I know your credit score, too." The smile fell from her face. Background check? He held the steering wheel with one hand, looking calm and unaffected. Like he didn't just admit to invading her privacy like a heavy handed creeper.

  After a minute, her smile returned. "About the transvestite in New Orleans, I can explain."

  He busted out a laugh. "How did you know I was kidding?"

  "I didn't at first, but then I thought, if I were to run a background check on someone, which, by the way, is an asshole move, I sure as hell wouldn't tell them about it."

  "Is that so?"

  "Yes, it is so, but it still doesn't tell me how you knew." The click of the turn signal was loud in the quiet of the car.

  "Would you believe I'm psychic?" His smile was crooked and there was a mischievous glint in his eye.

  "Fine, don't tell me." She gave her shoulders an impertinent shrug as the car came to a halt in front of her office building. It wasn't a big deal, but she was becoming accustomed to giving him a hard time...it was fun. She hopped out and pranced up the cobbled walkway on the left side of a water feature that took up the entire courtyard. Tess always found the silver strips of metal garish. She would have preferred a simple slate wall with a cascading wall of water.

  She heard his quick steps behind her, yet she kept her stride swift. He grasped her arm just before she entered the looping door. He pulled her in to him, his mouth against her ear. "Where's my kiss good bye?" His grip tightened in a way that made her knees want to buckle.

  "You want a kiss? Do you think you deserve one?" He pulled her to the side away from the thin throngs returning from their own lunch breaks.

  "I paid for lunch, didn't I?"

  The corner of her lip curled, "I knew you had ulterior motives." The 's' was lost in his lips, that crushed onto hers. His tongue silenced any other snarks she may have thrown his way. Every finger on both of his hands pressed into the soft material of her blouse. She wished they weren't in front of her office. She wished they were alone. Just as quick as that thought had entered her head, he pulled away. His face flushed, breath coming out in delicate puffs.

  He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, "When you opened your wallet, in your attempt to pay that first night we went to dinner, I saw your license." Tess let out what might have been an "Uh, huh." She couldn't have cared less about the birthday stuff, unless it involved birthday suits. Attempting to gather her wits, she stood tall, tucking in the material he'd pulled free. "Pornographic memory, good to know."

  "Pornographic?"

  "Photographic! I meant photographic." She could die now.

  "I thought the kiss was pretty amazing, too." He smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll call you later?"

  She nodded. Her cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment, and other things, as she watched his tight, delectable backside walk away.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  What to wear?

  What to wear?

  Her black silk strapless jumpsuit with her new gold strappy wedges? Or the flesh colored halter dress with the new camel sling backs? Decisions, decisions. Her butt looked good in the black, but the girls looked good in the halter. She wished she knew if Wes was a boob or an ass man. She had more than her share in both areas, but the trainer she employed last fall and his Hitler-esque regime, helped her lose three inches on her waist. His idea of a meal was steamed green veggies with a piece of fish the size of her nipple. And "just twenty more," was his favorite phrase. He'd been lucky she was usually too exhausted to kick him in the balls, but in her mind she bludgeoned him with the ten pound weight he was so fond of.

  Results were seen, so in hindsight it was worth it, and her current hourglass figure was just right. If anyone else thought differently, they could smooch her round behind.

  After thirty more minutes of deliberation, she decided to go with the jumpsuit. Thanks to her current work load, her flesh was even lighter than the flesh colored halter dress. She vowed to lay by the pool as soon as possible.

  Her hair was an easy one. She'd bought this great curling iron, the one that gave fat ringlets. It took some practice to get it right. They made it look so easy on the sponsored post she'd seen. Much like the girls that give makeup tips. She tried to follow one once and ended up looking like a drag queen.

  She preferred a simple makeup strategy— a bit of bronzer on her cheekbones and an extra layer of mascara. Done and done. She kept waiting for her nerves to catch up with her, but, to her surprise, she was nerve free this evening. Maybe it was because no one who'd be there knew Wes was coming, nor did they know about his past. She could just hear Emma saying, "So, I hear your ex-wife is a whack job." It wasn't that Tess was embarrassed about Wesley's ex. She was more embarrassed about her friends and their loose lips.

  One year at their holiday "Winter Wino" gift exchange, she placed two small decorative bags in front of Emma and Jen. They pulled the contents from the shiny bags and gave Tess a WTF look as they each held a package of coffee filters. To which Tess batted her lashes and smiled. "You two never seem to have a filter, so there you go." It took them a few seconds to get it. "Fuck off" and "filter this, slut," were just a few of their comments. Case in point.

  Rebel would have gotten one too, had she not been home sick with the flu.

  Turned out, her fears were unwarranted. The girls behaved. Emma even seemed quasi-demure. Jen was in her own haze of adoration, with K-Thor attached to her hip. Everyone seemed to really like Wes. He was open and friendly, and of course, way easy on the eyes. It was evident he spoke in front of people for a living, convincing them that what he had to say was important. It wasn't canned or disingenuous. He was comfortable asking questions and looking people in the eye. He had this intensity that drew people in. The only time Tess cringed was when Marin asked him how long he'd been a single father, which was mildly invasive. He answered smoothly without going into detail. She held her breath, waiting for the buttinsky sisters to pounce, but they didn't. Small miracles.

  It wasn't until they had a female break away moment that they started to pry. Which was fine. Tess didn't care what they asked as long as it was directed at her, and when Wes was at least twenty feet away.

  "Where have you been hiding Mr. Legal Briefs? And have you seen them?" Emma asked.

  "We've just started dating. And, no, I haven't seen his briefs yet...but I really want to."

  "What's the hold up?" Jen asked.

  "I think he's a gentleman or something, damn it," Tess teased.

  "Oh no!" the girls screeched.

  "Shhh, keep your voices down, guys. I don't want him to think we're talking about him."

  "By the way he's watching you, he probably already suspects," Marin added.

  Tess's back straightened. "He's watching us?"

  "You, more than us, I'd gather...he's looking at you like his gentlemanly ways are a thing of the past," Emma said.

  "Really?" Tess grinned. They all nodded since they were facing him.

  "I can see why you like him so much," Marin stated.

&nb
sp; "Who said I liked him that much?" Her friends gave her a look. "Okay. I knew bringing him would be a dead giveaway." Tess smiled and sipped her glass of Pinot. They stood in the corner of the covered patio on the backside of the modest ranch style. The large yard was neatly manicured, with a row of mature trees lining the fence. Alex's parents had strung lights, giving off a romantic ambiance.

  "So, you're exclusive?" Marin asked.

  "I'm pretty sure. We didn't have the actual, 'are you seeing other people' conversation, but I'm pretty sure it was implied. We both agreed we're dating, so that's what it means to me."

  "Are you sure that's what it means to him?" Emma asked.

  "You know I don't always trust men, especially if they want to get you into bed. They'll say just about anything, ya know?" Even Marin nodded in agreement. She made love to women, but she'd been hit on enough to know how men operated. "It's weird, guys. I don't know why, but I trust him. Like, really trust him. He's been through a lot and he's raising these girls on his own. I know he doesn't have time to play games, so I'm going with my gut on this one. I just hope it's my gut that's leading me." She winked, making the girls giggle.

  "He's really nice, Tess. And he actually has a sense of humor. I didn't know there were funny lawyers," Emma said.

  "Not to mention totally gorgeous. Did you pay him or something?" Jen teased.

  "Yeah, with her Vagina Visa," Marin joined. They all laughed.

  "Ha, ha. I told you hookers that I have yet to see his briefs, nor has he seen mine."

  "Nor has he seen mine," Emma, Jen, and Marin said in haughty unison. Pinkies up.

  "I have to know, was he this fine in high school?" Emma asked, leaning into the group.

  Tess sighed. "Yes, but in a different way. He was hot back then, but now he's just...ya know?"

  "Yeah, like the Thelma and Louise Brad Pitt compared to the Troy Brad Pitt," Jen said. Jen had fostered a mild obsession with the actor since she was a preteen. Him becoming Brangelina and having a dozen kids hadn't dampened her adoration.

  "Wes looks nothing like Brad Pitt, but yes, the same concept. Young hotties becoming mature hotties."

  "Awe, it just clicked. Wes and Tess. So cute! I bet you doodled that in your little Trapper Keeper," Marin mused.

  "What the hell is a Trapper Keeper?" Emma asked. Marin crossed her eyes in response, their decade age gap glaring in that moment.

  "Are you guys finished? May I remind you this night is about Jen and her K-Thor," Tess pointed out, in her attempt to steer the conversation away from her love life.

  "Ugh, stop calling him that! It's kind of racist," Jen snipped.

  "What? He's Korean and he does look like Thor. It's a compliment," Tess said, defending the nickname.

  "Besides, you hypocrite, I happen to remember you referring to my last boyfriend as my little chalupa," Emma pointed out.

  "You have the worst memory, drunky. I didn't call him your little chalupa. I said he wanted to put his tamale in your little chalupa," Jen amended.

  Emma turned her head towards Tess and Marin, rolling her eyes. "Oh, my bad, not racist at all."

  "Soooo, how's the wedding planning going?" Tess asked. And just like that Jen's eyes glowed as she entered the land of dreamy bride-to-be. All discussion of K-Thor, and more importantly Wes, were shelved for discussions of lace and catering.

  Somewhere between the buttercream or the fondant discussion, Jen's mom came over and said a series of rapid sentences, none of which Tess understood, since it was in Korean. Jen nodded. "Ok, Mommy." Her mother was tiny, but had a presence that was far bigger than her stature. Jen's German father had been over six foot when he was alive. They were an unusual couple on paper, but when you saw them together they were adorable, and very much in love. Tess had only seen pictures, but you could tell.

  "I need to say goodbye to some relatives," Jen said, and walked after her mom, grabbing Alex's hand on the way.

  "I'm going to grab another drink, you guys need anything?" Emma asked.

  "No, I'm good. I am going to hit the ladies' room, though," Marin said.

  "I'm good, thank you." Tess wanted to keep a clear head just in case Wesley finally decided to jump her. A girl could only take so much making out before she needed to get some. She'd surpassed her three date rule over a month ago. She took a sip of her cocktail, deciding to go find her date, hoping that if she rubbed against him enough he'd get with the program. Before she could turn, strong arms wrapped around her waist. She smelled his scent before his lips grazed the shell of her ear. Soap and citrus, with a mild hint of musky aftershave. Her eyes fluttered as she sniffed. It's funny how a smell can trigger an emotional reaction. This particular smell, his smell, triggered all kinds of reaction, most of which were happening south of the border.

  "I've been watching you for an hour. Talking, Laughing. Swaying that fine ass." She was glad he couldn't see her face, because her eyes were bugging out. So, he was an ass man after all. "Not touching you was making me crazy." It was a whispered growl that no one heard but her. "You look so beautiful, tonight...I just..."

  She leaned into him, letting him nip her neck discreetly. "Touch me then."

  They made the quickest round of farewells they could manage without being rude.

  The ride home was short, and devoid of conversation. Tess played with the long chain around her neck, while Wesley's hands gripped the steering wheel, ten and twoing it like a good boy. She didn't want the good boy version of him right now, yet she wasn't sure how to get the bad one front and center. There had been a spark of it at the party, but in the quiet of the car she worried it had passed. Like always, he seemed to be reining himself in. Why he intentionally kept giving himself blue balls was anyone's guess. Tonight, she would simple have to up her game. She would't even dwell on the fact that she was having to devise a game plan to persuade a man, a man who'd cupped her boobs and fondled her nethers numerous times, to sleep with her. She'd ponder the alternate universe that was her life another time.

  As he walked her to her door, she'd offered him a nightcap. He accepted without hesitation. Despite their hasty departure from the party, they sat like adults, discussing how lovely the party was. How nice her friends were. How delicious the home cooking was. Yes, yes, all very civilized. Tess ran her hand across her neck. Then her finger dipped beneath the silk across her chest. She wasn't trying to be sexy, she wanted him so bad the movements were involuntary, like she had to touch something. He traced the movement and bit his lip. Then they collided into each other. It was a violent crash, lacking finesse. Hands, tongues, groans, She'd wondered earlier if he was an ass or breast man, turns out he was both. In fact, he was having a hard time deciding where to spend his time. He mapped her with his hands and mouth until she was thrashing with frustration. She lifted her hips, attempting to give him a hint. When he continued at her neck and chest, she yelled.

  "Wes, please...if you don't put something inside me this minute, I'm going to die!"

  His hands complied. It was a start, but soon it wasn't enough. She begged as his mouth took the place of his hands. Her vision blurred while she shook and cried out. Damn, he was good at that. He lifted away and smiled the smug smile of a guy who just made a woman make strange animal sounds. The haze cleared and she realized not only had he stopped, but he was putting his shirt back on.

  "Wha-what are you doing?" She sat up, oblivious to her naked state for about three seconds, then put one arm over her chest and the other between her legs, where he'd recently spent thirty minutes treating like an ice cream cone. "Why are you getting dressed? I thought we were..." She shut up, feeling pathetic. Naked and disheveled. What kind of guy goes down on someone, blows their mind, then doesn't have the decency to shag them afterwards? She didn't know that someone could block their own cock.

  He smiled, rubbing the top of her bare foot. "I wanted tonight to be about you. Does that sound old-fashioned?"

  "Uh, there was nothing old-fashioned about what you just did." Tess did
n't mean to pout, but damn it, what did she have to do to get laid? Her eyebrow cocked up and she crawled over to him, letting her hands fall to her sides. She put her hands on the button of his pants. "You see, the thing is, I'm a firm believer in earning my keep." Her fingers moved, reaching inside the warm confines behind the zipper. "And although I let you pick up the tab, I must insist on going half and half on this."

  His feeble protests soon died in his throat.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Tess pulled the covers under her chin and grinned. The warm body next to her was wrapped on one of her legs. Her triumph was backed by the mild ache she felt in her limbs. She could't remember the last time she'd asked a man to sleep over. But after they'd tangled on her mattress for over an hour, they were both exhausted and it just made sense. She wasn't reading too much into it. They liked each other. They made each other laugh. And they had a lot of chemistry that, halle-freaking-llujah, translated into great sex, which hadn't always been the case in Tess's experience.

  She could name several guys she'd felt attracted to. They were good kissers, had swagger, but when it came to doing the deed, pfft...fizzle. Perfect example, Samuel Bell. Totally hot. Smart, artistic, had a soft deep voice that vibrated her girl parts. She knew he was going to light her on fire. The make out sessions had been crazy hot. He had these callused fingers that, just...yes. But when they got naked and he mounted her, yes mounted...not even an ember. He'd seemed pretty sure of his performance, but she had to fake her way out of that one.

  On the other side of the coin she'd dated cute guys who she could barely stand to converse with, they were so boring. But then they ended up being rockstars in the bedroom. For example, Trent Anderson who used to work on the first floor of her building. He walked through the lobby like he owned the place. She and Willa had scoped him out for months from their table in the coffee shop. He finally asked her out. She shaved her bits. Then she rolled her eyes through three courses at Manoir Ubert. His favorite topic of conversation was himself and his love of financial spreadsheets. She hadn't had any plans to sleep with him, but after three glasses of Chateau Mont-Reydon, she was feeling dreamy enough to let him kiss her goodnight. The kiss was so good, she decided to invite him in. Besides, she shaved. Turned out his financials checked out...three times.