“But Lexi, it’s Dan.” April had met Dan, and she was not his number one fan. She couldn’t handle anyone who didn’t worship me, and Dan wasn’t one to shower me with praise. Or even complete sentences, for that matter.
“I know it’s strange, April, but he’s so—he’s just so good. And I know he’s quiet and kind of scary, but deep down he’s a sweetheart.”
“Real deep down,” she drawled.
“He loves me. Doesn’t that count for something?”
I heard her sigh.
“Just be careful. You thought you loved Jack too.”
“Oh, Jack,” I scoffed. “Jack’s a pretty boy with the personality of a constipated brick.”
April giggled, and it made me smile.
“I just want you to be happy.”
“He makes me happy, April. I promise.”
It was almost midnight, and I was still at the office. There are some days when I just can’t stomach the thought of going home to an empty apartment, and this was definitely one of them. Typically I go hang out at April’s place when I’m feeling too alone to function, but I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t face anyone with all the emotions flowing through me, both dreadful and wonderful at the same time. So I plowed through market trend analyses until my eyeballs literally dried up. I stopped to take out my contacts and pop them in the case and was rummaging through my desk drawer for my extra pair of glasses when Dan walked in. He took fast, determined strides towards me.
As usual, I almost jumped out of my chair. “Dan! Holy crap! Would it kill you to make a little noise? Maybe wear a bell—”
He reached me and pulled me into his arms. He hugged me close, burying his face in my neck. His breath was hot and damp on my skin, and he held me so tightly my back started to go numb. Then he pulled back and kissed me.
What happened next? I’m not completely sure, because I was in some kind of white heat, and Dan’s lips and hands were everywhere, so hot, so incredibly hot. I remember watching him, spellbound, as he took off his shirt, completely oblivious to the fact that it was midnight and we were on the 38th floor of T&G. All that mattered was that the man I loved was taking off his clothes, and I got to watch.
I moved close then, and touched him through his boxers. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply. I tried to reach inside, but he grabbed me and pulled my blouse clumsily over my head. I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, flinging it over his shoulder. He stopped for a second, stared dumbly at my breasts, then touched them briefly, reverently. I think I made some kind of moan of impatience, because he jerked his hands from me and yanked down my skirt and panties, thrusting his knee high between my legs. We were too far gone for teasing and foreplay. He scooted me back against the lateral file cabinet behind my desk, pushed down his shorts, and entered me, hard and deep.
I’d never, ever had sex like that before. It wasn’t just that I let go, sobbing and biting and clawing his smooth, muscled back. It was that I had no choice, no control. Just when I thought I’d ridden out the last spasm of my orgasm, just when I would try to bring it down and moderate my breathing, another, bigger wave would knock the sense right out of me. Finally, Dan made a quiet, tense sound in his chest, and I knew he needed something to push him over the edge. I sucked his bottom lip between my teeth, biting it hard, and with a final hoarse groan, he came. Gasping, shaking, we slumped weakly against the file cabinet and made the slow slide down until I was sitting on his lap. It took a while for us to catch our breath, and then I needed to talk.
“Dan.” I leaned back a few inches so I could see his face. “I know you love me. I figured it out this afternoon.”
“Lexi…”
“I love you too.”
“You don’t know what you feel right now. One day you’re with Jack Brogan, the next day you’re with me.”
“Are you saying I’m a slut?”
“No, I’m saying you’re confused.”
“I’m not. I’m not in love with Jack. I never was, not really.”
“You sure acted like it.” His voice was tight.
“I guess I thought I should love him. I mean, I saw his looks and his smarts and his money, and I thought, ‘this is what I should love’. Like he was better than me, and by loving him, I’d be better too.”
“He’s not better than you.”
“I know.”
We were silent for a moment.
“Listen, Lexi…” He pushed my hair behind my ear tenderly, which was both weird and sweet, considering we were slumped half-naked behind my desk. “I came here to thank you for this morning. My mom, she has good days and bad, and—”
“That was a hell of a thank-you.”
“Well, I was really appreciative.”
“When did you start loving me?” I demanded. He was turning into distant, smartass Dan again, and I wasn’t going to let him.
He lifted my hand, kissed my palm. “I don’t know…it’s been a while, I guess.”
“You don’t know? For Christ’s sake, Dan, this is a pretty significant conversation we’re having.”
“When you were transferred to Ed’s group, okay?”
“Oh my God…that was over three years ago!” No way, I couldn’t believe it.
“Lexi, there were fifty junior analysts I could have chosen to come work for me. Why do you think I chose you?”
“I thought it was because of my superior risk analysis skills.”
He began to laugh.
“Shut the hell up!” I slapped his chest.
He pulled me into his arms. “Your risk analysis skills are fine. But they aren’t why I hired you.”
“You hired me because you loved me.” I grinned against his chest.
“Yes.” He didn’t sound as thrilled as I would have liked. “Lexi…I know you think you love me right now, but this is new for you. I think maybe you’re disappointed because things didn’t work out with Jack, and now you have these feelings for me that might be…fleeting.”
“You think I don’t love you? You think I’m some flighty idiot who falls in love as often as she changes underwear? How come you can love me, but I can’t love you back?”
He sighed, closed his eyes. “I just…I don’t think we should move too fast, because I’m not sure that you can love me— “
“But I do!”
“—the way I love you. Madly. Obsessively. So much it scares me.”
I smoothed his hair off his forehead, away from his temples. His eyes, which were normally so dark and sharp, were wide, and I could see the brown when I was this close. “You don’t have a clue how I love you,” I whispered.
He leaned forward and kissed me, then kissed me again, so sweetly that I felt a crazy ache in my chest. And after his lips began to get a little hotter, and his tongue a little deeper, I reached for him, felt his hardness with my hand.
“God, Lexi, you feel so good. I’ve never felt like this.” He leaned down to kiss my nipple, then began to tease it with his teeth. How did he know how much I loved that?
“Meh…it was passable.” I leaned my head back against the file cabinet and grinned.
“Better than with third-rate Brogan,” he growled.
“He was second-rate. With you it was third-rate.”
“Bullshit. You never came so hard. You know it. Admit it.” Dan was teasing me. I giggled, and believe me, I am not a girl who giggles.
“Dan, I scratched a highway map on your back. You might need a tetanus shot. It was indescribably good.”
He gave me a look that was full of male ego, and I laughed and kissed his forehead.
“Tell me again,” he demanded.
“It was great sex!” I yelled, feigning exasperation.
“No, not that.”
“Then what?”
“You know what.”
“Oh Dan,” I sighed, cupping his face in my hands. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
Epilogue
We had been fighting for ten minutes about who got the a
isle seat and who had to sit in the middle. I had the distinct impression that the thinning-haired businessman sitting by the window was already sick of us, and we hadn’t even left the ground.
“It’s a proven fact that women have to go to the bathroom more often than men. Ergo—”
“Ergo?” he repeated.
“—Ergo, I should have the aisle.”
“But I’m bigger. I need more room.”
“Do you really want my ass in your face every time I have to get up?”
Dan raised his eyebrows at me but said nothing. I crossed my arms and sat back huffily, but he just ignored me and made a big show of stretching out his legs and swinging his arm around in circles in the empty aisle.
We were on our way to Cincinnati, to attend my parents’ fortieth anniversary party. It was a testament to our relationship that he agreed to take two days off work and come up early with me. Not a lot of guys would do that for their girlfriends. I kept telling myself that as he buckled his seatbelt and luxuriated in the twenty inches of personal space to his left.
Well, truth be told, I was more than just his girlfriend—I was his live-in girlfriend, for going on three months, and it was going swimmingly. When I first left T&G I was worried that it might hurt our relationship—what if work was all we had? What if we came home at night and found nothing to talk about, without investment banking to hold us together?
But my worry was short-lived—Dan and I still had plenty to talk about. And as an added bonus, I discovered a whole new life. When I got home from my new job as a federal regulatory reporting manager for Morgan Stanley, it was still light outside. I had time to shop and read books and talk to my friends. I had time to cook real meals and pick out the perfect Roman shades for the living room in our new condo. And when Dan got home after one of his fourteen-hour days, I was able to help him relax. Sometimes I met him at the front door and helped him relax right there in the entryway, shoved up against the coat closet. One time we even relaxed in the service elevator, but that’s a whole other story.
Once we were in the air, I stopped being pouty, because it wasn’t working. Dan was keeping his seat, which, truth be told, kind of surprised me. He always gave me the better choice—the coldest soda, the plushest towel, the biggest slice of cheesecake—and I had come to expect it.
When the “fasten seatbelt” light went off, I immediately stood up to go to the bathroom, making sure I elbowed Dan several times, and slid myself artlessly across him, upending the newspaper on his lap and smushing it against his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” I panted, placing my hand on his shoulder as I straightened myself upright in the aisle. “I didn’t mean to trample you like that.”
“Did you bump me? I didn’t even notice.” He gave me a dazzling smile, all sparkly eyes and white teeth, and it made me want to kiss him, but I resisted the urge. As I stood in line, I could feel Dan’s eyes on me, but I wouldn’t turn around to look. Okay, maybe once I peeked, and sure enough, his steady gaze held mine for an instant before I edged forward and shoved myself into the tiniest bathroom I’ve ever had the displeasure of visiting.
For the first few months we were dating, Dan’s eyes were almost always following me—he looked at me with love and with desire but also with a bit of wariness. Like he wasn’t sure I’d be staying around for long. Like I might jump at the next Jack Brogan who crossed my path. I did everything I could to prove to him that he was it, that no one else would be turning my head—not now, not ever—but it was still there, the look that I couldn’t erase. And then one night, a few months ago, we were sitting on the living room floor, trying to connect the dozens of wires that hooked up our new flat-screen TV to the cable box and the DVD player and the surround sound system, and he just stopped. For a second I didn’t notice, my attention diverted by red, white and yellow wires and all the potential ways I could plug them in the wrong holes.
“Lexi.”
“Wait. Seriously, I think I’ve got it figured out this time.” My wires looked like a bowl of multicolored spaghetti, but I still felt like I was on the verge of a breakthrough.
“Lex, put those down for a second.” I did as he asked, then stared at him blankly. “I need to ask you something.”
Holy crap, he looked so serious. Did he want to return the TV?
“Like, right now. Right this second. Is there anyplace else you’d rather be? Anything else you’d rather be doing?” It was a strange thing to ask in the middle of a hugely unsuccessful home theater installation, but when I looked at his face, I knew exactly what he needed to hear. And why.
“Dan, there is nothing I’d rather be doing at this moment than making a mess of these wires. With you. And tomorrow, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than sitting here waiting for the technician from Best Buy to show up and fix everything we fuck up tonight. There’s nothing else. No one else. Ever.” I stared deep into his eyes, willing him to hear me, and listen to me, and believe me.
“Okay,” he said slowly, his eyes dark and serious. And sexy. Goddamn, what that man could do to me with his eyes. “I was just checking.”
And yes, we did completely destroy the installation job. But after that night, Dan changed. There were no more worried glances when he left for work; no more doubtful grunts when I told him I’d rather stay in and watch home improvement shows than eat at some stupid, trendy restaurant.
Except for today. Despite our teasing, Dan looked nervous. Uneasy. I couldn’t think of what I’d done to put him on edge. Maybe he was just worried about something at work. Or maybe he was dreading meeting my parents. I couldn’t blame him for that—my parents can be a bit much, especially for someone as quiet as Dan.
When I returned to my seat, I climbed over his knees deftly and slid my seatbelt on. I’d decided to be nicer to him, just in case he really was upset about something.
“Hey, they’re coming with drinks—do you want a beer or something? My parents are always more palatable after I’ve knocked back a few.” Dan nodded uncomfortably, barely even acknowledging my joke. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said tightly, his eyes glued to the drink cart making its way down the aisle towards us. Wow. Even loving him the way I did, there was no denying that when Dan was in a mood, he could still be kind of…imposing. Not in a scary kind of way, of course, but in a way that made me wonder what was going on in his head. I so rarely got to see what he was really thinking.
As the drink cart got closer, Dan seemed to get more jumpy, and pretty soon, I needed a drink. The flight attendant stopped and asked our row what we’d like. Thinning-haired guy ordered a club soda, I ordered a rum and Coke, and Dan didn’t order anything. The flight attendant immediately leaned over Dan and placed a can of Coke, a tiny bottle of rum and a cup of ice on my tray.
“Hey, why don’t you get something, you know I feel cheap when I drink alone—” I opened the baby rum bottle and was about to pour in a generous shot when my eye caught something floating in the cubes of ice. Something shiny. Holy shit.
I leaned forward and began digging around in the ice with my fingers, and pulled out a beautiful, pear-shaped solitaire, set in platinum. It was freezing in my hand. When I looked over at Dan, he was sliding down on one knee in the aisle beside me. He was pretty squished, and if I didn’t already feel tears gathering in the corners of my eyes, I would have burst out laughing at his face, which was frozen in a mask of terror. The flight attendant was standing behind him, looking like the cat that ate the canary. When had he set all this up?
He took my left hand in his. “Lexi, I’ve loved you for so long, and these last nine months have been the best of my life. I can’t remember what my life was like before you, and I can’t bear the thought of what it would be like without you…” Okay, so by then I was crying, and people were staring, and even thinning-haired guy was leaning over, listening with interest. “Will you marry me?”
I let forth some kind of horrible sound, which might have been a sob, or a cough, or a laugh
, I’m not sure which. “So this is why you took the aisle seat,” I squeaked triumphantly.
Dan closed his eyes for a moment, as if praying for patience.
“Lex, can we focus here?”
“Oh God, sorry, of course I’ll marry you.” I lunged forward and threw my arms around his neck, and we kissed and kissed, until the drink cart started to jam Dan in the ribs. Finally he rose stiffly, and a bunch of passengers congratulated us, and I slipped the ring on my finger and absolutely could not take my eyes off it. When it was finally time to sit back down, Dan took the middle seat without my having to ask. I scooted as close to him as I could and rested my head on his shoulder.
“I love you,” I whispered in his neck.
“You love me because I gave you the aisle seat.”
“I love you because you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You know that, right?” I moved back and looked into his dark brown eyes, so dear to me now, and traced my finger along the edge of his jaw. “Right?”
“Yes, I know that,” he said roughly, and I hugged him, and he hugged me back, and I finally stopped talking.
Because everything was perfect.
About the Author
Claire Matthews caught the writing bug soon after her youngest daughter started school, leaving her to either write or seduce the FedEx guy. Since the FedEx guy was a woman, an author was born. After her first five stories were accepted for publication, Claire began to realize that this was more than just a hobby, and set up shop in the attic, with an old TV table, an ancient laptop and a well-worn thesaurus.
Focusing on short contemporary romance, Claire finds time to write between teaching political science at a nearby community college and caring for her two demanding daughters, her slightly neglected husband and her antisocial dog.
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