Making the First Move

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Making the First Move Page 13

by Reese Ryan


  I sigh. Back then, deep down I was sure Mom was right. But now I know what kind of father he is, a pretty great one. He’s still smart, confident and funny—all the things I loved about him. Yet the self-centered behavior that drove us apart seems to be gone. The impossible has happened: Peter Pan has finally grown up. I’m thrilled that it’s finally happened, that Jax is the man I always believed he could be. But the fact that I wasn’t enough to make that happen... My stomach clenches and there is a hollow ache in my heart. Maybe Gina really was what he needed, not me.

  “I’m sorry, Melanie. I must be boring you to death talking about my kids.” Jax polishes off the last of his braised beef.

  The sound of my name draws me out of the daze I’m in, thinking about what might have been. I shake my head and pick up the fork again. “No, I apologize. You’re not boring me at all. I was thinking...about work.” I take a sip from the glass.

  “And you’re doing a phenomenal job. Your dad would really be proud of you.”

  Back pressed against the chair, I take a deep swallow of the cognac. I put the glass down and meet his eyes with mine. “I hope so.”

  Jaxson starts to tell a funny story about the first time he met Dad. So much for my rule about our history being wiped clean. We laugh. Aside from that initial typical-father-meets-boyfriend episode, Dad and Jaxson had always gotten along pretty well.

  The story about my dad leads in to a few others and then funny memories of our families and friends. When he reaches across the table and touches my hand, I feel a flutter in my belly that makes me squirm. He’s still talking and laughing, but I know that I’ve let him in too deep, that I need to find my line in the sand and crawl back on the other side.

  Mimi made me promise that if I begin to feel the slightest bit of...anything for Jax, that I’d call her so she could knock some sense back into my head. But I don’t want to hear one of her lectures tonight.

  “Thanks for the meal, Jaxson.” I slide my hand from beneath his and place it in my lap. “But I just remembered that I promised to do something for Mimi tonight. Sorry to leave so suddenly.” I stand up and remove my coat from the back of the chair.

  “I’ve kept you out way too long tonight.” He stands and helps me into my coat. “At least let me take you home.”

  “No.” I turn around quickly, nearly head-butting him in the nose. “I...I could use the fresh air. I’d rather walk.” I hold my open palm out, facing him, to nix his objections. “I’ll be fine. Really. I walk in the evening all the time.”

  “If that’s what you want.” He gives me a rueful smile and nods once. “Thanks for dinner. It was nice thinking about old times.”

  I press my lips into a reluctant smile before I turn and head for the door.

  As I walk home, the chilly air swirls around me and slaps at my nose and cheeks like a thousand tiny blades. I think of what Jamie said to me five years ago. If you and Jax are really meant to be together, maybe this is the journey you both need to take. I wrap my scarf around my neck as many times as its length will allow, shove my hands deeper into my pockets and make my way home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It’s Thursday night, and I’m trying to watch the Cavs game while reviewing résumés of possible candidates for a VP position at a small start-up when my cell phone rings. It’s Raine. I smile. Connecting with Jaxson again has stirred unresolved feelings, but it hasn’t changed the way I feel about Raine.

  Raine and I talk on the phone nearly every night. He keeps hinting that it’s been forever since he’s seen snow. I’d love to see him, but now doesn’t seem like the right time. Business is constantly coming in, and I’m working at home on my laptop every night.

  I answer the phone. “You’re calling early on a Thursday night.”

  “Hello, beautiful! I couldn’t wait to hear your voice. What’re you doing?”

  “Watching the game and sorting through résumés. Wishing I was at the game drinking an overpriced beer instead.” I pause for a moment then add, “Missing you.”

  “I wish I was there with you now,” he says in a low, sexy growl that makes my heart beat faster.

  “And exactly what would you do if you were here now?”

  “Hmm...where to start? I guess with the obvious. I’d give you a big hug and kiss. Lots of kisses. All over your face. Down your neck. Wherever else the spirit leads me,” he says slyly.

  I giggle. I’m in full schoolgirl mode now. “Sounds like a good start. What next?”

  “Oh, you want more?”

  “A lot more.”

  “I’d make you a mojito and light the fire to set the mood for what’s to come.”

  “And exactly what is to come?” I bite my lip and run my finger along the stitching in the sofa.

  “I can show you a lot better than I can tell you,” he says. There is a male voice in the background, but I can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Hey, I have to go,” he says quickly. “Can I call you back later?”

  “Umm...yeah...sure,” I say. The line is already dead.

  I sit there slightly stunned, staring at the phone bitterly, as if it’s to blame. Before I can pout about the abrupt end to our conversation, there’s a loud knock at my door. I wonder if my neighbor, Mrs. Applegate, is bringing more baked goods. At this rate I’m going to be the size of Shamu.

  “Who is it?” I approach the front door.

  “Delivery,” a gruff voice responds.

  At nearly eight at night? I look around the room for a makeshift weapon. I’m wishing I’d taken the baseball bat my mother insisted I keep under my bed.

  “I didn’t order anything.” I peer through the peephole and nearly faint. I look again to make sure that long hours squinting at my laptop screen isn’t affecting my vision. I open the door slowly.

  Raine stands there in full winter gear, a bag slung over one shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “Hello there, gorgeous.”

  I want to scold him. He should’ve told me he was coming. My apartment is a mess. All I have in the refrigerator is a partial case of beer, hummus and wilted salad leaves.

  Yet as I look at him now, none of that matters. I don’t care that he’s seeing me in sweats with no makeup. I’m just glad to see him. Silent tears stream down my cheeks before I can blink them back or turn away from him. I dry my face with the sleeves of the tattered sweatshirt I’m wearing. I’m embarrassed. It’s too early in the relationship for tears.

  “I hope those are tears of joy,” he says. “If so, that’s a better reception than I’d imagined.”

  I grab Raine by the hand, pull him inside my condo and throw my arms around him. I still haven’t said a word. I can’t believe he’s here or how emotional I’ve become. Wasn’t it me who insisted he shouldn’t visit?

  Raine kisses my wet cheek. His fingers gently trace my cheekbones. A huge smile spreads across his handsome face. He plants soft kisses on my lips.

  I lean deeper into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, afraid he’ll float away as quickly as he appeared if I don’t hold on to him. He tastes like mint and chocolate. I breathe in the scent of his cologne and the coconut-scented shampoo he uses.

  I run my fingers through his hair as he kisses me. His arms are around my waist, pulling me closer into him. The kisses quickly graduate from sweet and tender to hungry and desperate.

  It’s been six months since we’ve been together. My body is filled with electricity, longing and anticipation of the moment we make our way up the hall and into my...unmade bed.

  I pull away for a moment to catch my breath. I smooth my hair down and wipe my face. “Of course I’m happy to see you.” I finally answer the question asked several minutes ago. Though I’m pretty sure he already has his answer.

  “Good. Otherwise this would be pretty awkward.” Raine smiles. “I made reservation
s at the Embassy Suites, just in case.”

  “You are not staying at a hotel. I don’t want to be separated from you any more than I have to be.” I smile furtively. Then I realize he’s beginning to perspire under all the layers of clothing. “Let me take your bag and your coat. You must be starving and exhausted.”

  “They served something on the plane,” he says, “and I just had a—”

  “Peppermint Pattie.”

  Raine laughs. “Yeah.”

  “Let me order some food and straighten up a little. Maybe grab us a bottle of wine before the market downstairs closes.”

  “I don’t care about any of that. I’m here to see you.”

  “You flew across the country to see me. The least I can do is buy a few groceries and a couple of bottles of wine.” I grab my coat from the hall closet and toss it over the couch. “I’ve gotta find my shoes,” I call over my shoulder, heading up the hall to my room. “Just make yourself comfortable. There’s beer and hummus in the fridge. Fresh pita is in the bread box.”

  I rush around my bedroom and bathroom cleaning and tidying the place up. I do my major cleaning on the weekends. It’s Thursday, so things are at their worst. I’m not a slob, but I’ve never been as neat as my mother and sister. I’m much more like my father. We clean up behind ourselves—eventually. We just don’t have the inclination or presence of mind to clean up as we go, the way Mom and Mimi do.

  It takes me about ten minutes to straighten the bedroom and hang up the suits thrown over my chair. I take a quick look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I look an unholy mess. My hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. I’m not wearing any makeup. Worst of all, I’m wearing awful gray sweats that have seen better decades.

  I crack the bedroom door. “You okay out there? Can I get you anything?”

  “I’m good,” he says. “Your Cavs are keeping me company until you come back. Which I hope will be soon,” he adds.

  I smile. “Sorry. I’ll be there in a second. Well, more like fifteen minutes. It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”

  I shower, wash my hair and shave all essential regions. I wrap a towel around my wet hair and another around my body and search for my makeup kit. There’s a knock on my bedroom door.

  I crack the door with one hand, and brace the towel that is struggling to conceal my ample curves with the other.

  “Yes?” I try to ignore the fact that his eyes are slowly scanning what he can see above and below the towel. “I’ll be just a few more minutes.”

  “And what if I can’t wait a few more minutes?” His hand rests against the door.

  “You can’t rush perfection.” I bat my eyes playfully.

  “You’re already perfect.” He leans in to kiss me. “It doesn’t matter whether you’re in a ballroom gown, sweats or a peach bath towel.”

  Raine gently traces the skin on my chest, just above the towel, which holds on precariously against the strain of my breasts. He trails his fingers up my neck and kisses me.

  “Well, at least let me get—”

  Raine cuts me off with a kiss.

  He holds my face in his hands. “I know you want everything to be perfect, but all I want is you. Just the way you are. Right now.”

  I smile, walking backward slowly until my calves hit the side of the bed. I take a deep breath and let the towel drop.

  Raine takes the towel off my head and tosses it on the floor. Wet curls frame my face and cover my eyes. I pull his sweater over his head and unbutton his shirt. He peels off his undershirt and jeans.

  We enjoy the warmth of each other’s bodies on this frigid winter night. Each kiss, each touch melts the ice from my heart and body just a little more.

  His hands caress my hardened nipples. He nips at them gently with his teeth and circles them slowly with his tongue. Raine trails kisses along my neck, between my breasts, down my stomach. The steady thump of my heart rivals the intensity of the pulsing ache between my thighs.

  He talks to me in a low, sensuous tone, demanding to know what I want, what I like, where I want him to touch me. Right now the answer is everywhere. I wish he were able to touch every throbbing, pulsing nerve at once.

  He withholds the one thing I want so badly, until I ask for it. Beg for it. Then he peels himself off of me and slides off the briefs that have been trying unsuccessfully to restrain the bulge beneath them. He fumbles through his wallet, pulls out a condom and puts it on. Good. He’s prepared. Right now I’m in a euphoric daze, not thinking straight because all I want is...

  Raine slowly guides himself inside of me. My breath is quick and shallow. I press my fingers into his back, pulling him closer. I wrap my legs around him, allowing him to thrust deeper inside. He glides in and out of me slowly, deliberately. All of my senses are heightened. I’m distinctly aware of the heat of his skin, his captivating scent, the hardness of his body in contrast to my soft curves, every sound we make.

  Raine rocks us gently into moments of intense pleasure. Moments in which I say things I’ve never said to a man before. I beg him not to stop. I plead for more. I tell him how much I need him and where.

  For a moment I forget how convoluted and impossible long-distance relationships can be. I forget all the objections I wrestle with whenever I consider the possibility of taking the relationship further.

  My only thought is, I want this man in my bed every night. I want to start my day over coffee with him in the morning and discuss my day with him over dinner at night.

  Afterward he holds me in his arms. My body fits perfectly against his like the curved, vintage set of salt and pepper shakers my mother owns. I wish we could stay like this forever.

  I try to push all the disquieting thoughts from my mind. The ones that remind me Raine is only here for the weekend and come Monday night, I’ll be sleeping alone, wishing he were beside me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The aroma of coffee and fresh baked goods awakens me the next morning. Still groggy, I slowly open my eyes and check my alarm clock. It’s not quite seven, so I close my eyes again. The clanging of dishes prompts me to saunter out of bed and into the bathroom.

  My hair looks like a Statue of Liberty crown fashioned of kinky, brown curls. I take a quick shower, wash my hair and get ready for work. I have two important meetings today. I can’t miss either of them. Raine will have to understand.

  I pull my hair back into a low bun. Then I wrap myself in a towel and pad quietly into my bedroom to get dressed.

  I’ve just shimmied into my underwear when Raine enters the room with a makeshift tray in hand. It’s the top of a moving box I had lying around. He’s lined it with wax paper.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” He leans down and kisses me, transferring faint traces of lip gloss from my lips to his.

  “Morning. How’d you sleep last night?”

  “I slept well.” He puts the tray on the nightstand next to my bed. “Better than I have in a long time.”

  Raine comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He kisses my neck and ear. I immediately suck in my stomach. Breathing takes a backseat to creating the illusion of a flatter tummy.

  “Last night was amazing,” I whisper. “I’d like nothing more than a repeat performance, but I have to go to work today. I’m the boss now. I can’t play hooky.”

  I slip out of his embrace and dart into my walk-in closet. I survey my wardrobe for something that’ll make a great exit as I leave Raine shortly without titillating the lascivious old men I’m seeing for breakfast and lunch meetings today.

  He leans against the door frame, his arms crossed. “I knew you’d probably be working. Don’t worry. I’ll find something to keep me occupied.” He presses his lips into a smile that’s nearly convincing.

  I appreciate the effort. “Good,” I say, grabbing a pair of black pant
s with a flared leg, the matching jacket and a lavender camisole to wear underneath.

  “Wait...” Raine steps into the closet and slips his arms around me. He takes the clothing from my hand and returns it to the shelf. “I know you can’t miss work, but maybe you could be a few minutes late.”

  I look at my watch, a white-gold Bulova my grandmother gave me more than twenty years ago. “Leslie and I usually meet over coffee to plan our attack. If I’m late, I’ll have to go directly into my meeting.”

  Raine trails kisses along my neck and shoulders, undisturbed by my argument. Then he does the thing that drives me absolutely insane. He slides his warm, wet tongue into my ear. He has broken through my final wall of resistance.

  “Ever made love in a closet?” he purrs in my ear.

  “I haven’t, and something about it sounds really kinky and weird. Don’t you think?” I giggle.

  “I don’t know.” He slides the bra straps off my shoulder. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  * * *

  I rush to work, talking to Leslie all the way there. She brings me up-to-date on morning emails and voice messages. I’m harried but well-prepared as I walk through the door.

  Leslie takes my coat and hangs it on the coatrack. I’m wearing a pair of black, high-heeled boots—a risky undertaking with ice still peeking from underneath the snow on some of the sidewalks in front of closed businesses. I manage to make it into work safely and I’ve shaved at least three minutes off my morning routine by not having to change from my Uggs into a pair of office-worthy shoes.

  I make a beeline for my office, put my briefcase and purse underneath my desk, pull out the files I’ve prepared for my meeting with M.B. and head over to the meeting room. Leslie falls in line behind me, providing last-minute updates.

  I stand over the table, reviewing the setup. The information packet I’ve prepared for M.B. is set at his place. Pfaltzgraff melamine dishware marks our places at the table. The pretty Evening Sun pattern features rich oranges, fiery reds, sunny yellows and sage green. Colors mimicked in the beautiful bouquet of flowers now sitting in the center of the table.

 

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