How about dinner? Tomorrow night? The Esplanade. Eight o'clock.
I opened my eyes. “Seriously? What are you thinking?"
Another text buzzed, and I felt the evening spinning out of control.
How do I know wrong number girl isn't a ninety-year old woman with blue hair and a Chihuahua?
She typed back quickly with a grin on her face. “This is fun.”
That's a risk you'll just have to take.
I threw a wet dishtowel at her.
"Hey! You can thank me later," she sang.
I glared at her for most of the evening, knowing I was going on a blind date soon. Sadly, I had no one to blame but myself.
* * *
The next day, I woke up and jumped up from my bed, rushing around the room. I was late for work…again. My shoulders slumped when I realized it was Saturday. “I really need to invest in a calendar,” I muttered. With a sigh of relief, I flopped back onto the down comforter and stared at the ceiling. Unease filled me knowing I was meeting Abe that night. I was Beckley Winters. I didn’t go on blind dates, and I didn’t meet up with strange men…ever.
As if on cue, my phone blinked on the nightstand to interrupt my wallowing. I rolled over and picked it up; a text message from a blocked number waited.
Are we still on for tonight?
Wanting to decline, I knew I had to go through with it. Maybe Madeline was right; I just needed a one night stand to get over Jeremy once and for all. I was standing on the edge of the cliff and needed to dive headfirst into the million of fish in the sea. Biting my lip, I tried to think of a clever reply, the thought of meeting and sleeping with a stranger foreign to me.
Having second thoughts about a ninety-year old blue-haired woman with a Chihuahua?
Beep.
Maybe it’s a risk I’m willing to take. ;)
I flopped back on the bed and sighed. A combination of anxiety and butterflies fluttered through my stomach, each of them whittling away at my bravery.
I hadn't been on a date, blind or otherwise in...a long time. Jeremy and I were together for two years exactly. We’d broken up a month ago; I didn't remember how to date. Additionally, I didn’t remember what to say, what to wear, or how to act. My ex’s idea of a date was sitting on the couch while watching animé porn. Madeline ran that joke into the ground for a long time when I told her. She classified them as the “C’s” that should never enter a relationship: Cartoon cocks and cunts. Good riddance. I, in no way, wanted Jeremy back, but I still hadn’t recovered from the fact he’d hurt me.
I looked at the clock. It was only ten in the morning, and it was going to be one of the longest days of my life.
* * *
I gave myself one last look in the mirror. My hair was curled in loose dark tendrils, and I wore the cliché little black dress that rarely saw the light of day from the back of my closet. Donning the tallest heels I owned was Madeline's idea. I felt like a baby deer fresh from the womb as I wobbled, but she said it made my legs look longer. At five foot two, I decided to pick my battles with her and let her win. Besides, I was able to admit I needed all the help I could get.
* * *
At quarter ‘til eight, I walked into the restaurant with my best attempt at confidence on the exterior and dread in my stomach, knowing I was outside of my element. Give me a bathtub and a book any day over meeting a stranger in a restaurant. Beyond that, it was someone I was potentially going to have sex with…he just didn’t know it yet. I took step after nervous step toward the hostess as I raised my index and middle finger. "Two, please."
"Name?" she asked.
"It's under 'Abe'." I glanced around the room and noticed plenty of tables were available.
"Right this way," she said with a fake smile, looking as if she knew something I didn't.
If any games were going to be played well, I needed to act the part. Deep breath, Beck. Deep breath.
With my who-ha wanting to retreat and run the other way, I fought the urge and followed the hostess to a small table for two near a fireplace. As I tried to sit down, she ushered me to the opposing side of the table. That was when I saw the man from the text message sitting at a small table across the room.
What is he doing?
He looked up at me with dark eyes that smoldered as his gaze connected with mine. The muscles in his arms tensed as I surveyed his features, and my pulse began to race. Immediately, a shiver scampered up to my neck, exploding with a layer of goose bumps trailing down my arms. Am I really here doing this?
He pulled out his cell and looked away.
Instantly, I was a little annoyed at being trumped by technology, but I was interrupted when my phone beeped. Looking away, I pulled it out of my purse and studied the text on the screen.
Wrong number girl?
I glanced up at him and smiled, typing a message back without looking away.
Disappointed I left my Chihuahua at home?
I bit my rosy lower lip and took a sip of water from the frosty glass a waitress set in front of me.
Disappointment is the last word on my mind right now.
Crunching the ice as I reread the words, the frozen shards slid their way down my throat. I was thankful he sat a few tables away so he couldn't see the tinge of color that manifested on my face.
Taking another deep breath, I looked around. The restaurant's lighting was dim, a fireplace crackling the background. Candles with bits of yellowed wax dripped down to their respective embellished silver holders; it accented the romantic ambience in the room.
My phone jolted again. I looked down to read the latest text, and I heard the chair across from me scoot against the floor. Holy shit…he’s here at the table. Be cool. The hundreds of butterflies that filled my stomach earlier were disturbed, flitting against one another as they attempted to escape. I looked up, and the smile instantly slid off my face.
"Jeremy?" My jaw fell as my ex-boyfriend sat down near me at the table, and my appetite was officially gone. He was wearing a white t-shirt, oversized zip-up hoodie that hung off one shoulder, and a baseball cap cocked to the side. It wasn’t a secret he was underdressed for The Esplanade.
My eyes flicked over to Abe. He licked his lips and sat back in his chair, studying my actions. In response, a bead of sweat trickled down my spine, and the room suddenly felt too small.
"What are you doing here?" I hissed through gritted teeth.
His steely gray eyes locked with mine. "You look...fuckable." He shook his head left and right and swallowed. “We need to talk.”
"Are you thinking with the wrong head again? We broke up. There’s nothing to discuss."
He swallowed. "I made a mistake, Beck. I didn’t mean for—"
“What? Your pants fell down, and your cock accidentally found a new home in Bambi’s honey pot?”
“Look, she had a bad day; she lost her cat. I was just trying to console her. You know, make her feel better?”
"It didn’t look like her pussy was missing to me.” I paused. “And are you seriously trying to rationalize what you did?” I growled as Abe grabbed his keys from the table across the room, setting his napkin down, a flicker of annoyance on his handsome face. “Get out of here, Jeremy. Now.”
My eyes flicked over to the table where Abe was sitting again. My heart hesitated when I noticed the chair was empty. Great. Damn you, Jeremy! Once again, I’ll be robbed of an orgasm at your expense.
"I want you back." Jeremy leaned forward and rested his palms on the table. "Hear me out. The Bambi thing was stupid, baby. It’s always been you. I mean, you always took such good care of me. You cooked, you cleaned, and you did the laundry. I miss it."
I shook my head left and right slowly, feeling the embers of rage building to a full-fledged inferno in my chest as I fought the urge to slap him.
Across the room, Abe studied me as he loitered near the doorway. “Drama,” he muttered, rubbing his jaw. I flinched as he took a last glance in my direction before he shook his head. With
force, he opened the door, the bell chiming behind him. The deal was sealed; there was no way I was talking my way out of the situation.
No! I screamed inside my head.
“Jeremy, if you don’t leave right now, I’m going to fold your dick into a pretzel so you won’t be able to fuck anyone ever again!” I seethed as his hand gripped my knee under the table. His fingertips pressed into my flesh as they slid up my thigh.
I shoved him away.
"I said I was sorry," he murmured. "I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
"I…”
The sound of a male clearing his throat stopped me from continuing my sentence.
When I looked up, a man was standing near us. Something about him was familiar as I scrutinized his face, but I couldn’t put the pieces together.
"Sorry I'm late, sweetie," he said, flashing me a wink.
Sweetie?
Suddenly, it hit me like a freight train, and I was in shock as I untangled the transformation. The light from the fireplace reflected against his chiseled facial features, and it intensified the color of his familiar hazel eyes. A fashionable black blazer rested atop his broad shoulders while a blue button-up shirt hugged his torso, and he wore faded jeans that were snug in the right places.
"Gavin?" My jaw fell. Standing before me, he was devilishly attractive and didn’t look anything like a lumberjack. Flannel-less and clean-shaven, he’d captured my attention. "Gavin," I said his name a second time, my brain refusing to function.
He leaned over and brushed a lock of hair from my neck, sending a trail of goose bumps scampering across my skin. His breath was hot as he whispered into my ear, "It's been a long time, Beck." Gavin's voice was deep and it rumbled, sending sent a chill from my core that wound around my spine as it exploded with a heated blush across my cheeks. My earlobe tingled as he spoke, "Mad told me about what happened with Jeremy, and I saw you sitting over here. You look like you could use a little help. Am I wrong?"
My pulse quickened beneath my skin. "No. Not wrong." I forced myself to play along, willing to sell my soul to the devil in order to make Jeremy disappear.
"Who's your friend?" Gavin asked with a nod of his head.
"Jeremy was just leaving. Right?" I deadpanned on my ex-boyfriend.
"I get it. New fuck buddy." Glaring, he looked between the two of us as he squeezed my hand. "You’ll be back, Becks. We both know you can’t do better than this." He gestured toward his chest with both of his thumbs.
“Keep me posted when hell freezes over.” I glowered.
Gavin’s eyes flicked back to me, and a smile teased the corners of his mouth as he kept his voice low, "Want me to give him a show?"
I nervously glanced between the men and my heart pounded as it tried to bolt from my chest through my throat. We were back to where Beckley should be in the tub with a book reading about this type of scenario, not dealing with three men in one night. See what happens when I leave the apartment? At that moment, I executed the most un-Beckley action I could think of and reached for Gavin’s hand, giving him permission.
The man before me was unfamiliar, although I’d known him for years. I couldn’t help but stare at his compelling presence. Although Madeline was my best friend, it’d been more than two years since her brother’s and my paths last crossed…when he looked like a lumberjack. The Gavin I remembered from our teenage years was a homebody. The Gavin I remembered was shy and awkward. The Gavin I remembered didn’t date much and looked away every time I entered the room. Since childhood, I’d known he had a thing for me. They were feelings I’d always shooed away and brushed under the rug. Now, the tables had turned in a matter of seconds, and I was the one drooling. Nervousness flitted through me as he moved a second tendril of stray hair away from my neck, his fingers trailing across my skin.
Gavin leaned down again. "Say the word and I'll stop."
I nodded and my breath hitched in my throat, my lungs forgetting how to work. The part of me who would typically negate the action was absent as courage took reign of the situation.
Tilting my face upward with the crook of his index finger, he closed in on the distance between us. Gavin’s eyes studied mine as if they held the world’s greatest mystery to unravel. I froze. The setting of the restaurant melted away as he brushed his lips against mine. His aftershave smelled woody, like cedar with a hint of mandarin. Immediately, I turned to putty, and I was thankful I was sitting down. He didn't rush the action, and he didn't pressure the kiss to deepen, but he held me captive solely with his mouth and the heat of his palm as it greeted my cheek.
The door slammed, announcing Jeremy’s exit. Gavin didn’t take advantage of the moment. Instead, he broke the kiss, looking up at the doorway. “Looks like he got the point.”
“Uh huh,” I replied, an intoxicating cloud of desire permeating around me.
Did he just kiss me? It’s Gavin!
Bracing his hand on the back of my chair, he cleared his throat as his gaze met mine again. "It's nice to see you again, Beckley."
I could listen to the way he said my name for hours. The deep growl between the sharp syllables, the way his lips formed the letters, and the way I barely caught a glimpse of his tongue as his mouth opened. In a matter of five minutes, I'd went from three men in my evening to one...and the more I thought about it, Gavin was the only one I wanted there. If anyone were to have told me I’d be pining for Gavin Chambers that night, I’d have called them a liar.
I decided to be vague about Abe. "Well, my plans took off for the night. Care to join me for dinner?"
He looked around the room nervously. “The Esplanade’s not really my scene.”
I looked away, assuming I was being shot down. It’d serve me right for the way I’d treated him over the years.
“Somewhere else?” he asked, glancing toward the door.
“We could grab a pizza.” I swallowed as a flicker of heat swilled through my core, pulsing in my pussy as I thought about what I was about to say next. “We could go back to my place...and catch up?”
“I’ll pick up dinner and meet you there,” he said, flashing me a smile. “Thirty minutes.”
I took another sip of water and fiddled with the ring of condensation on the table. "What are you doing here, anyways?"
No answer.
When I looked up, he was gone. I bit my lip and wondered if I imagined the whole thing. “Gavin?” The front door didn’t chime, and I went as far as checking under the table. Wondering if I were crazy, I picked up my purse and excused myself from the restaurant.
My phone beeped and I knew a new text waited. As far as I was concerned, I’d read enough messages for a while. Quota met.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t break the speed limit on the way home. Racing up the stairs to my apartment, I checked to make sure my breath was fresh, my hair wasn’t tangled, and I touched up my lipstick. With the few remaining seconds, I rearranged the throw pillows on the couch and picked up a rogue piece of pasta off the floor from the night before.
There was a knock at the door, and my heart mimicked the sound once the rapping had stopped. I took a deep breath and fluffed my hair, rubbing my lips together. Calm down, Beckley.
I opened the door and Gavin was leaning against the doorway with his jacket hooked over his back with his index finger. In the other hand, he held a pizza box from Gus’s. The golden flecks in his frosty green eyes were intense as he stared into mine. Holding my breath, I watched the Adam's apple in his throat bob. “Hey.”
I opened the door wider and gestured for him to come inside. My gaze flicked down at the pizza box, remembering back to the many Friday nights Madeline and Gavin’s parents ordered pizza from the hole-in-the-wall restaurant. “Gus’s, huh? Some things never change.”
His expression was serious and the energy in the air shifted, feeling like a mild electric current. “And some things are meant to change.”
I gulped; the temperature in the room felt as if it skyrocketed.
&nbs
p; Gavin set the cardboard box down on the island in the kitchen and chuckled. “I thought I was the only one with a set of Gertrude’s Ginsu Knives.”
“Yeah, well Gertrude and I go way back,” I replied. “Long story.”
Turning toward me, he glanced over my dress, the topics changing drastically. “You look incredible, Beckley.”
There he went, saying my name again. My stomach tightened and I felt my body responding to Gavin’s voice; he didn’t even need to touch me. What is happening?
I reached for his jacket, my hand grazing his steely bicep. Another whiff of aftershave invaded my senses, and I caught myself closing my eyes for a moment to savor the scent. Clearing my throat, I blinked back to reality. “So, you didn’t tell me what you were doing at The Esplanade.” I draped his coat over the back of the dining room chair and brushed away an imaginary piece of fuzz before I braved looking up at him.
"I was finishing up a business meeting."
“A lumberjack and a business meeting?” I raised an eyebrow. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing those two subjects mix.”
“I got out of that industry about six months ago.” He paused and flopped open the pizza box, focusing on a stray slice of bell pepper. Tapping his knuckle on the counter, he sighed. "That’s a lie. Who'm I kidding? Madeline mentioned you'd be there, and I wanted to see you. She said you were going on a blind date; I figured I’d never know what could happen if I didn’t show up."
Silence filled the air. It was then I realized the lack of flannel, the clean-cut appearance, and the fact he’d shown up at a ritzy restaurant like The Esplanade were all for my benefit. In a strange way, I was flattered and turned on. Abe and Jeremy were forgotten, and all I could focus on was the man standing in front of me.
I bit my lip and averted my eyes. For once, I was glad Madeline had meddled in my love life. Don’t get me wrong; it was the first and probably the only time. “Peppers and cheese.” I nodded. “You remembered.”
“Always have.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Why have you never given me a chance, Beck?” His tone was inquisitive, but not accusing. “A real chance.”
Naughty Bedtime Stories: First Taste Page 9
