by Harms, C. A.
I choose not to bring attention to the fact she looks somewhat shy from my compliment. I want her to feel free to react in whatever way she feels without analyzing it. Each time I talk to her or get the pleasure of spending time with her, I feel as though I get to see another small fragment of the person she tries so hard to hide.
“What,” she pauses and looks down at herself, “this old thing?”
Fuck, the smile on her face almost brings me to my knees. An unfamiliar playfulness had surfaced within her and I am loving every second of it.
“Shall we?” I wanted to say a million other things, but I took the safe route. I step back, hold my hand out for her to pass, and take the opportunity to check out her backside.
“Eyes off my ass, old man.” I look up and find her staring back over her shoulder at me with a smirk on her face.
“Again with the ‘old man’ stuff.” Tinley shrugs and continues walking and I do believe she shakes her ass a little more than she needs to.
Once inside and sitting at a small table for two, right next to the windows, I offer her a menu. “Wine?”
“Sure.” She nods as she carefully scans over the entire restaurant and out over the water at our side.
I take the opportunity to order the best bottle they have of Moscato and find Tinley smiling at me as she once again makes eye contact. I guess I’d chosen to her liking.
Once our waiter pours our drinks and takes our dinner orders, I sit quietly admiring her side profile as she looks out over the city’s lights as they ricochet off the river.
“This really is an amazing view.”
“Yes it is.” I’m not referring to the Hudson. That burn inside me, the deep ache I always manage to get when I was near Tinley has returned. It is a feeling I have only had once before: my first year of college when I’d seen Anna for the first time, a timid girl who stumbled up the stairs before colliding with my chest. I should correct myself—she was timid at first. That sweetness about her quickly faded and in its place was a party girl who drank heavily and ended up in too many beds as an outcome. Beds that weren’t mine.
“So now that you’ve convinced me to have dinner with you,” Tinley leans over and places her forearms against the edge of the table, toying with the edge of her napkin that lay at the side of her plate. “Tell me who Knoxville truly is, beside an aging man with those few random gray hairs along your temple.”
Smartass woman she is, one with spunk.
“You do realize I am only twenty-seven, right?” I know she is only trying to get a rise out of me, and I’ll admit her calling me old makes me want to prove to her how I am most definitely a man with more stamina and life than most can handle.
“That is still five years older than me, which makes you an old man.”
Leaning closer to her, mirroring her actions, I rest my forearms on each side of my plate as I stare back into her gorgeous eyes. “Older yes, but not old.” I wasn’t used to holding back when I was on a date and felt the urge to reach out for a woman—those gentle touches, a skim of my finger along their arm or cheek. Not touching Tinley is torture of the deepest form, but I have a feeling the wait would be worth it.
“Someone is very testy about his age.” She smiles wider as she reaches out for her glass of wine. In the process, her fingers skim over my hand and her gaze shifts that direction. She freezes, staring down at our hands and I refrain from moving away. What surprises me the most is neither does she.
“I tried being a cop,” I confess, still staring at our fingers, barely touching. “Beckett was made for the job, but me, I wasn’t one for taking orders.”
When I look up, I find her watching me with a look I can’t quite decipher.
“Our goals were the same, make it to detectives and be the team that never let a criminal outwit us.”
“And now?”
“I like being in control of my life, of the jobs I take, and I enjoy being the boss.”
When she snickers, I am not surprised by the words she offers next. “I knew you were a control freak from the first moment I saw you at your brother’s wedding.”
“Is that so?”
“Can’t be told what to do, always needed to have your way.” She shrugs, and in doing so her touch disappeared, leaving me with the urge to reach out and get it back. “Let me guess. You were the brother who gave your superiors a hard time. Rebellious against their commands, the first one to do the opposite of what they required of you?”
“Which is exactly why I left and am now on my own. I don’t take orders. Sometimes I correspond with the police on certain cases, but even then I don’t answer to them.”
“I always pictured a private investigator as one to stalk the cheating husbands or wives when hired by the opposite spouse.” Mrs. Hallows comes to mind instantly and I scowl. “Did I strike a nerve?”
“I’ll have you know I’ve built quite an agency over the years.” When she purses her lips and arches a brow, I narrow my eyes at her. It would seem she needs a little rundown of The Montgomery Agency I busted my ass to establish. “I have three well-known and determined attorneys, an entire floor filled with a top-notch surveillance team, and a team of three Marines and two Navy SEALs, veterans who work as bodyguards throughout the United States for events most can only dream of being invited to. I do have my hands in it all and get to play the boss daily. It is thrilling and I love every second of it.” Lies…I love most of it, except people like Mrs. Hallows who insist on working solely with me and me alone. “Okay, on rare occasions a high-maintenance wife or an overworked husband stumble into my office looking for proof their significant other is nailing someone else. Those moments I could do without.”
We are interrupted by the waiter bringing our meals, which were carefully placed before us.
“Is there anything else I could get for you?” Yeah, you could walk away now so that we can regain the relaxed atmosphere we were just creating.
“I think we are good,” Tinley offered as she smiled at the waiter. That strikes a nerve, because I don’t want her flashing that smile to anyone but me. And instantly I realize how ridiculous that sounds in my head. “This looks great, thank you.”
The waiter smiles as he nods his head and carefully begins to back away.
“Is yours okay?” I shift my gaze away from the waiter who has moved on to the next table, and am met with a knowing smirk from Tinley. It would seem she picked up on my annoyance at the overly friendly man who managed to forget she is not sitting alone at the table.
Chapter Fifteen
Tinley
I continue to tell myself over and over that this is not a date. This is just two people sharing a friendly dinner…but who am I kidding? This is most definitely a date, and a nice one at that. I am more relaxed than I have been in a very long time. I’d blame it on the wine, but the glass and a half that I have consumed can not be held responsible for my feelings. I am comfortable, and no one can truly understand how big that is. No one but me, who for the last year has felt at any moment the ball would drop and the ground would crumble beneath me.
I feel at peace, and safe.
I feel safe.
“You gonna finish that?” I look up from the spot where I have been unknowingly focused and find Knoxville pointing toward my plate with his fork. A half slice of cheesecake smothered in cherry sauce sat on the white china. “Because if you’re not—”
“You’re going to?” I ask, already knowing the answer. I slide the plate forward, and he grins so wide that I notice he has a dimple in his left cheek.
“You have a dimple.” It is both adorable and ruggedly handsome.
“I do.” He forked the cheesecake and brought the bite to his mouth. A small morsel collects on his lip and his tongue darts out to catch it. My eyes are glued to his movements, my heart racing in my chest. “And you have a very light path of freckles over the bridge of your nose that I assume gets a little darker after a day in the sun.”
Still completely foc
used on the movements of his mouth as he chews, I battle with images in my mind of kissing those lips. I haven’t felt that kind of want in longer than I can remember.
“You also have the cutest birthmark on the left side of your neck, just behind your ear,” Knoxville adds and I feel myself tense. “Shaped like a—”
“Upside down heart,” I finish.
“I was going to say a Hershey Kiss.”
I used to hate when Rob would run his finger over it. I should correct myself—at one point I found it sweet, until he grew more possessive toward the end. Then I despised his touch.
“It’s small and subtle, but definitely resembles a Hershey more than a heart.” I try to ignore the unsettled feeling in my stomach and focus more on the fact that Knoxville is so observant. It is sweet how much he pays attention to small details about me, though our time together has been minimal.
He is taking his time eating the cheesecake, taking small bites and collecting pieces of the crumb crust that fall to the plate around it. “Don’t want to miss a piece, do ya?”
“Actually, I’m just trying to gain every last second I can with you. If I eat this fast, it just means that this night ends sooner, and it took me many text messages and a lot of determination to get you here. I want to take all I can get.” Knox is definitely an honest man. “That’s if you want the truth, but if you expect me to lie, then yes, I don’t want to miss one single piece of this cake.” When he winks at me before poking at the cake once more, I bite the inside of my cheek to hide the pleased feeling I get from his confession.
Picking up my own fork, I lean in with every intention of snagging a small part of the remaining sweetness, but he tucks the plate closer to him and shakes his head “no.” Really? I am just about to remind him that it is mine when he swivels his own fork around and brings it to hover near my lips.
“So, you have to control this too?”
He smiles, shaking the fork, taunting me.
I am playing with fire, and would normally run from the heat, but instead I embrace it. Parting my lips, I make sure he is focused on my mouth when I put far too much effort into accepting the bite. My tongue licks along the bottom of the fork, my upper lip dragging the sweet cake from the top. I am fully aware of his gaze, glued to my movements and driving my actions.
He pulls the fork back, drops it to the plate, and before I can lick my lip, he drags his thumb over it. A small collection of cherry sauce is pooled on his finger tip, and he lifts it to his own mouth to suck off the remnants. The tables are turned, and now it’s me feeling all weak and weepy.
“Somehow it tastes even better when it comes from your lips.” Knox looks sinful in the dimmed lighting of the restaurant as he continues to watch me, waiting for my next move. Me—I am fighting off play-by-play thoughts of climbing over the table and mounting him right here and now. Again, so unlike me.
“What would you say if I asked you to give me a ride home?”
“I would say that it would be my pleasure.”
This is yet another step that is unlike me. I usually feel safer knowing my home location is unknown. Nora is the only person in the city who I’d willingly given my address. Not because I am ashamed, though I’m sure it is nothing like the place where Knoxville lives. It is so much more than that. I don’t like the idea of anyone randomly showing up on my doorstep, yet here I am, giving this man the opportunity to someday do just that.
Knoxville pulls out his wallet, places a hundred-dollar bill and a twenty on the table to cover the less than eighty-five-dollar bill. Just one more thing to appreciate about this man: he is generous, even though he was irritated by the attention our waiter offered me a few times throughout dinner. I quite enjoyed knowing that Knoxville is a little jealous of a guy I have no interest in.
When he stands and holds his hand out for me, I willingly take it and stand as well. Without removing my hand from his, I allow him to guide me toward the door and into the parking lot. I shouldn’t be surprised when he pauses next to a sleek black sports car and the lights flicker. I have no idea what kind of car it was, only that it is shiny and looks expensive and fast.
Knoxville places one hand on my lower back as he reaches around and opens the passenger door. “Thanks,” I whisper, feeling his breath fan over my right shoulder onto my neck. The close proximity makes me feel jittery, but in the best way.
Once I am safely tucked inside, he closes the door and walks around to the driver’s side. I imagine him tucking himself behind the wheel uncomfortably. A man his size should most definitely have a larger vehicle, but he manages to get in with very little effort. In fact, he looked relaxed behind the wheel.
“So where do you live?”
I ramble off my address without hesitation and sit back as he glides through the streets of the city.
When Knoxville pulls up outside the curb to my building, he leans over and glances through the passenger window. The closeness gives me yet another chance to smell his cologne and well, him. Manly, arousing, and a million other things that I seem unable to decipher.
“Looks like a quiet building.” He looks to his right and I think he registers just how close he is to me. But he doesn’t move, and his gaze falls to my lips. On instinct, I lick them.
Suddenly my mouth feels so dry. “Normally it is quiet.” With the exception of the weird guy in 3B who smokes an obscene amount of pot, and the smell filters up through the vents. I choose to leave that information out.
“Let me walk you to the front door at least.” I am well aware this is a question. Knoxville remains still, watching me with a hopeful look on his face. I nod, and within seconds he is out and around the car, opening my door. Once again he offers me his hand and guides me out of the car before closing the door behind me.
As we are walking up the steps with Knoxville’s hand on the small of my back, I focus on the glass double doors before me. I find myself not wanting the night to end, which is crazy because hours ago I was wishing for a way to get out of the entire thing.
“You look so pretty, Tinley.” Glancing to the right I notice Mrs. Hammond in her window, leaning against the ledge as she watches us approach. “And who is this handsome man?”
“This is Knoxville Montgomery.” I place my hand on his forearm without thinking twice and we pause on the top stoop. His hand glides over my back until it comes to rest on my hip. It feels incredible to accept a man’s closeness.
“Good evening, ma’am.” He gives her that sweet alluring smile of his. “Your flowers are beautiful.” I stare at him, knowing he has won her over with one simple sentence. Her flowers are her babies, and he just gave her the highest of compliments.
“I’ll let you two say goodnight.” She offers a wink in my direction. “You don’t strike me as a man who needs to be reminded to respect the lady.”
“No ma’am.” Knoxville gives my hip a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be telling this beautiful lady goodnight and I’ll wait right here until I know she is safely tucked away inside her apartment before I head home to my own.”
Mrs. Hammond seems pleased as she slowly closes her window and a few seconds later flips off her kitchen light.
“You just got blocked by my sweet little neighbor.” I try to hide my laughter as I press my lips tightly together.
Within seconds I am spun around, his arms circling my waist and my chest pressed firmly to his. “I had no intentions of moving past this door with you tonight.” I arched a brow. “I told you I didn’t have expectations. I don’t believe that tonight has given me any type of entitlement to anything more than maybe a kiss goodnight. But I’ll let you make that choice.”
“Wow,” I whisper sarcastically, mocking my surprise. “I get to be in control.”
“Of this, yes.”
“I know how hard that must be for you.” Gliding my palm over his arm, I bring it to rest on his chest as I look up at him through my long lashes.
“You have no idea.” It is almost like he is struggling.
Then I cave.
I tilt my head back just as he tilts his down, and slowly I close the distance between us. From the second our lips meet I know pulling away is going to be almost impossible. This man knows how to kiss. He doesn’t just use his lips, he uses his entire body. The way his tongue traces over my lips before mingling with my own. Or the way his hands caress my hips, my back, then finally my neck before fisting in my hair. And I can’t ignore how his body molds to mine, how his thighs part my legs and press against me, gently though, almost like a tease.
“I knew it would be like that,” he mumbles against my lips before taking more. If my mind wasn’t so hazy with delirium brought on by the fact he just owned me with one kiss, I would ask him what he meant. “You are incredible, Tinley.” Me? What about him?
When he steps back and I feel the weight of his chest leave mine, I am tempted to fist his jacket and pull him back to me.
“Tell me I can see you again, soon.” One hand remains on the back of my neck, the other at my hip. “Tonight was great. You have to admit you had a good time.”
I only nod, still unsure whether I’m even able to form words if I try.
“Yes, you had a good time? Or yes, you’ll see me again, and soon?”
“Both,” I whisper hoarsely.
“I got to see a lot of the woman you try so hard to hide.” He releases his hold on my neck and carefully slides his hand over my shoulder and down my arm before taking my hand in his. “Thank you for sharing her with me.”
I look down at the ground, and he steps closer to me once more. “You are beautiful, Tinley,” his voice was so low, so full of depth, “both inside and out. Stop hiding, because I have no doubt that you and I would be so good together.” And with that he kisses my temple and steps back before descending to the sidewalk below. I watch in awe as he approaches his car and rounds the front. Pausing next to his door, he looks over the roof at me. “I’ll text you about our next date.”
