If She Says Yes

by Tasha L. Harrison

  “What part of it?”

  I walked back around to the opposite side of the island and sat on the barstool. I wanted to be able to see her face while we talked. “That bit where you joked about dating a younger man.”

  Darcy looked up at me, her left eyebrow raised. “You do realize I was just trying to wind Jared up, right?”

  “I know, I know, but it got me to thinking,” I said, leaning forward on my elbows.

  “About what?”

  “What would it have been like to meet you in a different way? A different time and place?”

  “Different how? Like at some random frat bar when you were in college?” She picked up the whisk and the mixing bowl and began to pace as she mixed the ingredients.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not back then, when our age difference was so obvious. I was a kid. You would’ve never fucked around with me then — regardless of the circumstance.”

  She stopped mixing the pancakes and turned to me with a look on her face that I couldn’t read.

  “What?” I asked, worried that I’d said something wrong.

  “Nothing. I just… Thank you for saying that because I’ve been thinking about that and worrying that I might’ve done or said something to give you the wrong impression back then—”

  “No, Darcy. Never—”

  “Good. Good… I’m just glad to know that I wasn’t inappropriate with you back then.”

  I had to laugh at that. “Darcy… If you were ever even slightly inappropriate with me back then, last night would have happened a lot sooner because I would have been all in.”

  Darcy rolled her eyes. “Really, Tommy?” she scolded lightly.

  “Yes, really. I’ve been in love with you for years, and if you’d given me even the slightest…” The words died on my tongue, and I couldn’t finish the thought because the look on her face made me realize what I just said. “Shit, I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “Tommy…”

  I did love Darcy. Of course, I fucking did. How could I not? But that wasn’t her problem. My feelings for her were none of her business.

  “Let’s just pretend those words never came out of my mouth,” I continued, not wanting to hear what her eyes had already told me. “But anyway…what if we met this weekend? You’re you now, and I’m me now, and we met at…I don’t know…that oyster bar. We’re both eating alone at the bar. Would you…” Fuck, now that I’d told her that I love her, this little fantasy felt too vulnerable and not at all fun. “Never mind. This is silly,” I said, shaking my head.

  “No…” she said. “You want to know what would happen if we met one night while I was eating alone at Leon’s…if I would be interested. Of course, I would, Tommy,” she said, with a shake of her head and a sad smile. “I would question your interest in me, but yes… I would absolutely be interested.”

  “Question my interest? Look at you. You have no reason to question why any man would want you, hermosa. I know I would want you just the same. I wouldn’t be able to sit at a bar and watch you eat alone without trying to shoot my shot.”

  She laughed out loud at that. “And I would probably have this exact reaction.”

  “What could I have done or said to convince you that I was serious?”

  Darcy smiled and shrugged again, suddenly shy. “I don’t know, Tommy. It’s been so long since a man hit on me.”

  “Come on. That can’t be true,” I said. “I don’t believe that for one second.”

  “Well, it’s true. Outside of lecherous old men, Darcy doesn’t get much play.”

  “So what? You haven’t dated at all since your divorce?”

  “I didn’t say that.” She ladled three round puddles of pancake batter on the griddle with a thoughtful look on her face. “But, I guess I kinda made them happen, you know?”

  “Hm. I do know,” I said with a waggle of my brows. “So, in that scenario, you would come on to me. Not the other way around.”

  “Yeah, probably. But only after I was absolutely sure you were interested.”

  “So, what would you say? What’s your line?”

  “I don’t have a line.”

  “You have a line. Everyone has a line, Darcy.”

  “I really don’t.” She glanced up at me. “I’d probably compliment your eyes. You have really intense, beautiful eyes, and those dark lashes of yours make them look like they’re lined with kohl.”

  My heart did something weird in my chest, and my cheeks heated. “You really think that?”

  “Of course. I’ve already told you many times that I think you’re handsome.” She gave me a wink then grabbed a spatula to flip the pancakes. “Would that have worked?”

  “I mean…probably. But I liked what you said the other night before you kissed me too.”

  “And what was that?”

  Remembering that night, what she said, and how her expression had changed the moment the words were out of her mouth. “I don’t want just any man, Tommy.”

  “I… I said that?”

  “Yup. You said, ‘I don’t want just any man, Tommy,’ and then you mauled me—”

  “Mauled you? That’s not how I remember it,” she said, flipping the pancakes. They were a perfect golden brown, and paired with the sizzling bacon, mingled together to make a mouthwatering scent that made my belly growl again.

  “You did. You mauled me, and then jumped into my lap and begged me to touch your pussy—”

  “Begged you to… No, sir. You asked to touch my pussy,” she corrected, pointing the spatula at me.

  I grinned and swiped at it, too slowly to actually grab it, and she slapped it across my knuckles. “Let’s just say we both thought it would be a great idea if I touched your pussy.”

  “I’ll concede that.” She turned off the heat under the bacon and placed it on a bed of paper towels. “Because it was a good idea.”

  “Hm,” I grunted in the affirmative. “The best idea.”

  “The best I’ve had in months. Maybe years,” she said with a breathy laugh. “You wanna grab some plates for us?”

  “Sure.” I stood and went to the set of cabinets behind her to get the plates. “Do you think…” I began slowly. It felt easier to ask this with her back turned. “Do you think if we’d met that way — sitting at the bar at Leon’s — do you think we would have had a chance?” I set the plates down next to the stove and stood behind her.

  Darcy didn’t respond, but she leaned against me, pressing her body against mine. I pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and breathed her in. I guess she figured that would be answer enough. It wasn’t.

  16

  Darcy

  Waking up next to Tommy this morning, I was instantly swept up in a feeling that I was afraid to give a name. Flat on his belly, his legs tangled in the sheets, snoring a little, his back and cute little ass bared to the bright sunlight streaming in through the row of French doors along the piazza, he looked like a dream made real. I’d pressed featherlight kisses down his spine because he was there, and I could. I allowed myself to say and think a word that I had no right to…

  Mine.

  I wanted Tommy to be mine, and that felt strange to me.

  I’d belonged to someone once, but no one had ever been really, truly mine. I’ve never wanted that with anyone until now, and I couldn’t fucking figure out why I wanted him now. I knew I shouldn’t waste time on thoughts like that. But that was what I wanted to say when he asked, “Do you think we would have had a chance?” I wanted to say, “Of course, we would have a chance, because I would make you mine, Tommy.”

  But I didn’t say that.

  I didn’t say anything. I just let him hold me for a while and fed him pancakes instead.

  We took our breakfast out on the piazza and ate at the little bistro table. It was the perfect kind of Sunday morning, the kind that made me love my house. Every window and every door was open to catch the breeze off the river. The humidity was down, and the sun played peekaboo behind
fluffy white clouds. Tommy had run up to the garçonnière to change into pajama bottoms but remained shirtless per my request. With his hair all sex-mussed and smiling as he ate his pancakes, he looked younger than his thirty-two years, and I felt younger than my fifty-five, and I wondered if I would always feel this way if we were together.

  But that was silly. Just sex endorphins. Just chemicals in my brain that already wanted another dose of him. Nothing else. Nothing more than that.

  “So, what’s waiting for you at home? Marlowe Thompson tied to your bed?” I asked, smiling around the rim of my coffee cup.

  Tommy paused mid-bite and gave me a long hard look. “I think you know by now that I like it the other way around.”

  I squeezed my thighs together, remembering how he’d used his belt to tie his own hands last night.

  “Anyway…” he began with a little smirk. “There’s actually a ton of work waiting for me at home. I closed on a Gold Coast mansion restoration before I left. It was built in 1888 by the same firm that designed Chicago’s Opera House.”

  “Cobb and Frost?” I asked, my interest piqued.

  “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “It has all of this detailed woodwork, art glass windows, Santos mahogany hardwood floors… It’s going to be a real beauty once we’re done, but it’s gonna take a lot of work. I’m kinda dreading my inbox right now.”

  “Maybe I’ll get a chance to see it next time I’m in town,” I said. As many times as I’ve been to Chicago to visit Jared, I’d only had lunch a handful of times with both him and Tommy. Now I wondered how I would be in the same zip code without winding up in his bed.

  Jesus Christ, what am I doing?

  “Yeah,” he said, looking down at his half-empty plate. “I would like that,” he finished quietly, leaving what needed to be said unsaid.

  “You must be really excited,” I said after clearing my throat. “Sounds like a dream job.”

  “Definitely, and it will drum up more interest for my equitable housing foundation, too. The buyer has some influence with the mayor.”

  I set down my coffee cup, leaned my chin on my hand, and just looked at him. “This is probably going to be weird for me to say right now, considering we’ve seen each other naked and all, but… I’m so proud of you, Tommy. I’m proud of you and the man you have become.”

  He bit the corner of his mouth, blushed, and took a moment to gather himself. “Thank you,” he said finally.

  “I just made it weird, huh?”

  He shrugged and gave me one of his boyish grins. “Maybe just a little, but I liked hearing it anyway. I respect you, and what you think of me matters, Darcy. You’re a brilliant businesswoman, and you do your job with heart. I only hope that I can live up to that someday.”

  “Don’t be silly, Tommy. I just sell houses and land.”

  “But you focus on helping people retain their heirs’ property too. There’s so few people who even know what that is or why it’s important to help Black people maintain ownership of their ancestral land.” He picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “If you’re proud of me, I must be doing something right.”

  I bit my bottom lip to hide the pleased smile that wanted to spread across my face. Compliments tended to make me feel uncomfortable because I so rarely ever heard them from people close to me. But Tommy had always been generous in that way. “Thank you, Tommy,” I said quietly.

  “Just stating facts,” he answered back just as quietly.

  “Are you finished eating?” I asked, gesturing at his plate as I began to stand.

  “No…sit. Enjoy your coffee. I’ll clean up.” He stood and began to stack the plates, napkins, and utensils. “Hey,” he said softly to get my attention as he leaned over me. I looked up at him, and he gave my lips a soft, sweet kiss.

  I smiled against his lips and curled my hand around the back of his neck, prolonging the sweet press of his mouth against mine. Very quickly, it went from sweet to a hungry, but still soft, exploration that I wanted to take further.

  “Hm, what are you thinking about, hermosa?”

  “Who says I’m thinking about anything besides kissing you?”

  “That little growl you just made. You really don’t hear yourself when you do that, do you?”

  “Nope,” I said with a grin. “I didn’t even know I made it until you.”

  “In that case, I’m claiming that as a sound that you only make for me.” He gave me another quick kiss, then took our breakfast dishes into the kitchen.

  Shifting around the table, I claimed the seat that he’d just emptied to have a better view into the kitchen. I sighed and just drank Tommy in as he got to work tidying up.

  He had a sun-browned complexion, and every inch of him was lean and muscled like he spent as much time working out as I did swimming. When he turned and caught me watching him, he offered me a smile and a wink.

  “Hermosa,” he said with a tsk as if he wasn’t enjoying every moment of me watching him.

  Damn. Those eyes of his. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I would have complimented him on them if we met at a bar. They were the color of expensive dark rum, mischievous and friendly, and when he looked at me the way he was looking at me right now, intense enough to make me part my thighs.

  And I did part them, letting my robe drape open just enough for him to see the place where I wanted him to be.

  He bit his lip then glanced at the clock over the kitchen door. A frown creased his brow while he rinsed the dishes, loaded them into the dishwasher, and wiped off the countertops before making his way back out to the piazza.

  “Looks like you’ve arrived a little early for your dick appointment, but I think you might need my attention now.” He leaned over me and reached into my robe, fingertips skimming my mound and diving down to glance over my clit.

  “I think I do.” He tipped my chin upward with his other hand and kissed me. His fingers felt cool against my heated folds.

  “You’re all wet,” he whispered. “What got you this wet, Darcy?”

  “Watching you. Watching and loving the way you peacock for me.”

  He chuckled at that. “What can I say? I love the way you look at me. But I love looking at you more, hermosa.” He backed up and held out his hand. “Come here.”

  I stood and took his hand. He led me over to the more secluded end of the piazza. The same ivy vines that created a dark shelter on the piazza outside of my bedroom created a curtain here where he pulled me down onto the comfortable couch. Just a day ago, I’d lounged on this same couch with my sisters and lamented about the melancholia of old age settling on me now that Jared was married and creating a family of his own. I felt none of that as Tommy pulled me down next to him so we could cuddle together.

  With my back to his front, his hold on me felt possessive, and when his big hand spread over my lower belly under my robe, I let myself sink into it because who knew when I would have someone hold me this way again?

  Tommy kissed my neck, and his fingers inched toward the apex of my thighs. “Do you want to say it, or should I?” he asked.

  “Say what?”

  He growled and nipped my neck with the edge of his teeth. It didn’t hurt necessarily, but it startled me, and he took that moment to slide his hand down between my legs, holding my pussy in the palm of his hand.

  “It’s not fair that you’re making me be the vulnerable one, hermosa. I know you’re thinking it too... I know you’re feeling it.” He soothed the place he’d nipped with a kiss and a lick, then began to play with my clit with his middle finger while his other hand reached into my robe to pinch my nipples. His touch felt different today. It was tinged with a little anger, and I understood why. This thing that had happened between us over the last few days felt magical. Perfect in some ways, and if I allowed myself to go there, I would use words like meant to be and fate, but I couldn’t keep him, so why give in to those thoughts? Why would I hurt him and myself in that way?

  “Saying it won’t change anything,
” I murmured finally.

  “I know that. Don’t you think I fucking know that?”

  His hold on me tightened, his fingers buried deeper inside of me. “Maybe I just want to hear it,” he whispered hotly. He withdrew his wet fingertips and painted my clit with my own arousal. “Maybe I just want to hear it. Maybe I just want to hear you say you’ll miss me. Miss my touch. That you wish things were different between us. Maybe I just want to hear you say it, hermosa. ‘Cause I know, I’ll miss you. Miss this.”

  “Oh, Tommy,” I said softly, wanting to give him those words but still afraid of hurting him.

  So, I gave him what I could give him in this moment.

  Twisting slightly in his embrace, I sought and found his mouth. The moment our lips brushed, he turned their meeting into a needy, desperate kind of thing. His tongue invaded my mouth. My body responded to that invasion and the feel of his hard dick against the crease of my ass, his hips thrusting against me at the same rhythm he made with his tongue. The twin sensations made me so wet that my inner thighs were slippery and refused to stay closed under the careful attentions of his fingers.

  “Shit, I’m gonna come,” I cursed softly only a second before the pleasure washed over my body, and I immediately wanted more.

  I reached back and covered his hardness with my hand. He pressed himself into my palm the moment he felt the contact. Feeling him so hard and so ready and so right there made me reach inside the elastic waistband.

  “Shitttt…soft, soft, soft, Darcy,” he whispered, pressing his lips against my bare shoulder.

  He felt so velvety hot in my hand. Thick and weeping at the tip, and I wanted him inside of me just like that. Just the way he felt in my hand.

  “Take off your bottoms,” I whispered.

  He went absolutely still for a moment, and I knew what he was thinking. We were outside and only barely shielded from my neighbors if they chose to get inquisitive. Every door and window in my house was open to the breeze, and if anyone were to come to visit, they could be inside and upon us before we even heard them.

  I didn’t care.