by Donna Alward
“Oh,” she breathed, arching her neck. “Jeremy... That feels so nice.”
“Damn right,” he growled, fighting to keep his hands gentle.
“Jeremy, I—” Another sigh stopped her midsentence, but she picked up again, undaunted. “Can we just kiss tonight?”
She had to know what she was asking. He wanted to touch her everywhere. Feel her warm, smooth skin against his. But he’d promised himself that she could take the lead and so he dutifully answered, “Of course.”
“You’re a good kisser.”
“Mmm... Likewise.”
“You’ve got SKL. Do you know what that is?”
“Uh-uh.” He licked at her earlobe and goose bumps erupted on her shoulders as he slid his fingers along the skin revealed by the slouchy sweater’s neckline. It had a V-neck, and with it pulled a bit sideways, a generous slice of cleavage and the swell of her full breast were visible before the rest was concealed by her bra.
“Seriously kissable lips. Not too full, not too thin, really nice and soft. With that little dip in the middle, right here.” She slid her hand from his hair down his jaw, then dotted the dip in his upper lip with a fingertip.
“Tori?”
“Yeah?”
“You talk too much.”
And then he went to work shutting her up. Because if she wanted to be kissed—and that was all she wanted—he’d give her what she asked for. And he’d do it right.
* * *
Tori rolled over in bed the next morning and stared at the ceiling. The events of last night were crammed in her brain, one on top of the other, until everything was clouded with Jeremy.
She’d intended to be cautious. Said she only wanted kissing. But she’d been mistaken if she’d thought kissing him gave her any sort of protection. Instead, Jeremy Fisher and his clever mouth had sneaked past all her defenses.
It was a good thing that he had no idea how close she’d been to inviting him to stay in her bed. Just when she’d reached the point where she was ready to ask for more, he’d pulled back, kissed the tip of her nose, and wished her good-night.
She supposed she had to add honorable to his list of qualities, too. Instead of being comforted, the thought set her on edge. It couldn’t be this simple. There was something about him that had to be flawed, something that was going to go wrong. She wished she had some idea what it was so she could prepare herself for it. She definitely didn’t want to be blindsided again.
She got up and went to the bathroom for a refreshing shower, then dressed in tights and a swing-type dress from her “before pregnant” wardrobe that accommodated her growing tummy nicely, at least at this stage. The neckline looked a bit bare, so she found an infinity scarf and wound it around her neck, then put her hair up in a messy bun. She looked in the mirror with a critical eye. Back home this would be dressing up. But here... It was a different atmosphere. Different expectations, too.
Jeremy was in the kitchen, pouring cereal into a bowl. “Good morning. There’s decaf if you want it.”
Her outfit would be completed with her black boots, but inside she was in her stockinged feet and felt a little vulnerable. She tried a smile, wondering how he could act so normal while inside she was still stuck on last night’s kisses and him carrying her to the bedroom.
“I’d like that.”
“I’ll get it. Help yourself to what you want for breakfast. There’s bread for toast, or cereal, and fresh eggs. Or smoothies. I keep stuff on hand for shakes. It’s what I normally eat, though today I felt like cereal.”
He was quite the conversationalist in the morning, she thought, accepting the mug of coffee he handed over, fixed the way she liked—how had he remembered that?
“You look nice today,” he added, touching her arm on his way past her with his cereal bowl. Instead of eating at the dining room table, he perched on a bar stool at a high counter. It was far more comfortable than the huge table and formal setting.
She stuck her head in the refrigerator so he wouldn’t see her blush. “Thanks. And there are berries! Excellent.”
She turned around and saw Jeremy’s eyes flit up to her face. He’d been staring at her backside as she looked in the fridge.
“Sorry,” he said, without sounding too sorry at all. “I got distracted by your butt.”
Her lips twitched. “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“I try not to.”
“Well, then, stop looking at my butt and tell me what’s on the agenda today.”
She sat next to him on a high stool and arranged berries and melon on a plate. Took a sip of coffee and put the mug down, tried to pretend this was as normal as could be.
“Well, I thought you might like to do some shopping.”
“You don’t have to buy me things, you know. I have clothes.”
“Sure, but how often do you get to shop on Fifth Avenue? Come on, surely there are stores you’d like to go into. Besides, you actually need a few things. Like a coat. Your regular winter one is getting snug already. You’re not going to make it through to March or April and still be able to zip it up.”
He was right about the coat; she’d already realized it. “Well, I can get one back home.”
“And you can get one here. Let me spoil you a little. Besides, I need a new tie.”
“Sure you do.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “So, I probably don’t. But I can’t in all conscience bring you here for a week and not take you shopping. We can walk. And this afternoon I have a surprise for you.”
She paused, a piece of honeydew on her fork. “What kind of a surprise?”
“Nope. Not going to get it out of me that easily.”
“I don’t know, Jeremy. This makes me uncomfortable. I can’t ever possibly pay you back.”
He frowned. “Why would I want you to do that? Look, Tori. I have more money than I know what to do with, frankly, and rarely have anyone to spend it on. This is a treat for me to do this for you, okay? A gift, nothing more.”
“Well, I can’t reciprocate, either.”
“I don’t need you to. Buying you a few clothes, taking you to see a few new things... If I promise not to shower you with jewels, are we okay?”
What could she say? He was right. A day’s shopping was a drop in the bucket to him, so why should it bother her so much?
Because it made her feel as if she owed him something.
And she couldn’t say that to him without insulting him. Especially when he’d been so very nice to her already. Never pushing. Not once had he given her any indication he had a hidden agenda or was trying to manipulate her or the situation. She was the one coming up with that scenario, purely out of fear.
Maybe it was as her mom said. Sometimes you had to have a little faith.
* * *
By the time early afternoon arrived, Tori was laden with bags, most of which contained what she’d been wearing that morning. Her boots were in a boot box and new ones cradled her feet and calves; she wore the same swing dress and tights of the morning but the scarf was replaced with a new checked one of wool and silk. Instead of her everyday jacket, which was now tucked in another box in a huge bag, she wore a cashmere cape and gloves that Jeremy had insisted he buy her. Add in the sunglasses and she was pretty sure today’s ensemble came to more than she’d spent on the down payment for her house.
She felt both glamorous and a fraud, beautiful and a bit not-quite-herself, but today’s shopping had been an experience. Brands she’d only ever seen online or in magazines were now on her body.
Jeremy had also insisted she buy some maternity clothes, so he’d taken her into Saks, where he’d slapped down his credit card for two pairs of pants, three tops and two dresses—one that she could wear for any occasion, and the other a cocktail dress. When she protested that one, he’d insisted that sometime over Chr
istmas she might like to dress up. She’d countered by saying she’d be overdressed in something so expensive, and then he’d raised an eyebrow at her and she’d given up. Maybe she would have fought harder if she didn’t absolutely love the navy dress, but from the moment she’d put it on, it had been perfect. Then it was off to buy shoes. She’d reached her limit when he came around a corner with a plump, plush penguin in his hand. “And something for the baby, too,” he’d said, flashing her a smile.
He carried most of the bags while she held the ones containing the penguin and the dresses. They’d started walking back toward the park—at least that was what she thought if her sense of direction was right—when he stopped and lifted his chin at something over his shoulder.
She turned around and looked. It was the same spot they’d been the day before, just steps away from The Plaza.
“Tea?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you serious?”
He nodded. “I got us in for three o’clock, and since we didn’t stop for lunch, you must be famished. Today you can be Eloise and have high tea at The Plaza.”
“Jeremy.”
He laughed at her tone of voice. “Yes?”
“I do not know how you pulled this off. Do people really live like this? I don’t believe it.”
His eyes shone at her. “Every day? No. Once in a while? Everyone should. Just once in their lifetime, I think.”
“I’m afraid I’ll get something on me. Seriously.” She knew the cape had cost far too much. Right now wasn’t life, it was pretending. But she couldn’t help it. She’d pretend for a little while longer, because it was amazing.
“Come on. It’s ten to three, and we’ll get there just in time. You can even freshen up a bit before we’re seated.”
When they walked in the door, her head nearly swiveled all the way around. The lobby was stunning in and of itself, but when Jeremy led her to The Palm Court, she had to catch her breath.
Light. And elegance. And green palms and the most amazing ceiling...the iconic stained glass dome. She couldn’t believe she was here.
“Tori? Tori.” Jeremy was at her side, touching her elbow. “It’s going to be a few minutes. Come on, we can leave our bags with the concierge and pick them up when we’re done. I’ll show you where the powder room is.”
She tore herself away from the sight and followed him, her boots clicking on the floor. In the powder room she tidied her hair and refreshed her lipstick. There were roses in her cheeks; partly from the fresh, cold air and partly because of excitement, she was sure. She found Jeremy again and he solicitously took her cape, draping it over his arm for the time being.
When they were led to their table, she looked around at all the other people having tea. Some were dressed more casually than she. Others were dressed impeccably from head to toe, without a hair out of place. At her seat, she placed a hand on her tummy as she sat, tucking the skirt of her dress beneath her.
“So. Surprised?”
“Very,” she responded, unable to stop staring. “Oh, look at this place. And how did you ever get a table on such short notice? I’ve always heard that it takes weeks or months to get in for tea.”
“I pulled some strings,” he admitted. “While you were asleep yesterday.”
Of course he had.
“Look at the menu,” he suggested. “I’ll say everything’s good, but you should make your selections based on what you like. Especially if there’s something the baby doesn’t like, or you can’t eat while you’re pregnant.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Has someone been doing some reading?”
“Maybe. When I sent the grocery list to my housekeeper—Melissa, by the way—I wanted to get some things you like and...well, healthy things.”
She pointed to the list of sweets on the tea menu. “These are not healthy, and I am going to enjoy several.”
He laughed. “Good.”
He ordered a plain black tea for himself, while Tori went for a more aromatic Earl Grey. All around them was the clink of silverware on china, the hum of conversations. Tea arrived, and their tray of delights—finger sandwiches of cucumber, salmon, and turkey, perfect scones with Devonshire cream and lemon curd, and a selection of pastries and sweets that nearly made her teeth ache just looking at them. The entire hour, eating and chatting and people watching, was a dream come true. No matter what happened in their future, she’d always have this day to remember.
She’d told him once she wasn’t Cinderella, but she was surely feeling like it now. She was in the hotel business, was assistant manager to an upscale resort, but the Sandpiper and all its wonderful amenities paled in comparison to this.
It was like a mansion being compared to a palace.
“Have the last scone,” Jeremy suggested. “I can tell you love the cream with the preserves.”
They were a bit of heaven for sure. She didn’t argue, didn’t protest, just reached for the light-as-air scone and smeared it with strawberry, then topped it with cream and popped it in her mouth.
“I love watching you eat,” he said, a smile lighting his face.
She nearly choked on a crumb. “Er...what?”
“I just mean you like food. You don’t pretend not to.”
Oh, goodness. He was probably used to stick women who starved themselves or something. Or perhaps her manners were lacking. How mortifying.
“Don’t worry, it’s a compliment. You’re real, Tori. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m pretty confident I have scone crumbs on my dress now and sadly when we get home and I take these boots off my ankles are probably going to swell from all the walking and stuff we did today.”
“Real,” he repeated. “Flesh and blood. No pretending to be someone you’re not, no putting on airs to try to impress me. You are who you are and you’re comfortable with it. That kind of confidence is rare.”
She didn’t know what to say. She was very aware that she’d gained a few pounds with the baby and some of it was due to potato chips. And until now, she hadn’t really cared. She understood he was paying her a compliment. But she hadn’t considered confidence before. “I mean, I guess I just am who I am. I’m not sure I can change for anyone, or be a chameleon.”
“I would hope not.” He leaned forward. “Because you’re normal, you see? And when I’m with you, I feel normal, too.”
“Are you lonely, Jeremy?”
“Sometimes. I have my friends and all, and my sister and I are semi close, but it’s not the same as being...”
This time his voice drifted off, and he looked away for a moment.
“Intimate with someone?”
His gaze came back to hers. “Yeah. And not just physically, though that’s not a problem with you either, it seems.”
The baby must have enjoyed the tea as well, because it was moving around fairly consistently. She absently rubbed a hand over the curve, mindlessly soothing. But Jeremy noticed, and his face softened.
“I want us to be a family somehow. You should know that.”
Nerves quivered in her stomach. “We will be. No matter what we decide to do. Because we’re going to raise this baby together. Okay?”
He nodded.
When their tea was cleared away, he helped her put her cape back on, tenderly buttoning the top button. She picked up her new wristlet containing her phone and cards, and as Jeremy placed his hand along the small of her back, she caught a glimpse of a woman, probably in her fifties, watching them with a soft smile on her face. Tori smiled back shyly and as they passed the woman’s table, she said, “Congratulations.”
“Oh! Thank you,” she answered, pressing her hand on her belly as a reflex.
Right now she felt as if they were a family. But the day was pretend. Wasn’t it?
CHAPTER TEN
THE WE
EK TURNED into a whirlwind, and Jeremy tried to hit every iconic New York experience he could think of.
One evening he took her to the Christmas Spectacular with the Rockettes at Radio City Music Hall, and they watched them kick their way through a dance routine that would have had him winded in about thirty seconds. Tori’s eyes had shone as she focused on the stage, her smile bright as she turned to him time and again throughout the show.
Then there were the frenetic lights and sounds of Times Square, filled with tourists. It wasn’t his favorite spot, but she’d wanted to see where the ball would drop on New Year’s Eve. He showed her, and vowed to himself that one day he’d bring her here on December 31 so she could see it for real.
Of course, no trip to Times Square could be enjoyed without a piece of cheesecake from Junior’s, and he bought her pineapple because he thought it was the best. He hadn’t been wrong, it seemed, because she’d savored every bite, laughingly proclaiming that it was for the baby.
There’d been pizza one night, sitting on the carpet and finally watching the original Miracle on 34th Street, and slow but sweet kisses stolen here and there. A trip up the Empire State Building, where she’d held his hand as she looked out over the city, and a more sobering visit to the 9/11 Memorial.
Alas, he couldn’t avoid work altogether, and he’d been sneaking the odd hour here and there to look after things that couldn’t wait. He had to go into his office, though, so he left her the keys and told her to have a relaxing day, wherever that might take her. She’d made noises about wanting to visit the park again, or maybe go to the Met. Both were practically on his doorstep, so he left with no worries about how she’d spend the day.
