“The crème brûlée looks good,” I mused.
He closed his menu. “So does the chocolate mousse. Share?”
“Lovely.”
“Then we can take a stroll and walk off some of these calories. All right?”
“Yes.”
A gentle breeze blew across my face as we walked along the docks at the marina. Boats bobbed in the water, the hulls bumping against the wood. We stood and admired a few boats on the harbor, the lights on their masts glimmering in the water. Jordan had offered me his hand when he helped me out of the car, and it had remained wrapped around mine as we strolled along the docks.
“Do you like boats, Sandy?”
I furrowed my brow. “I don’t dislike them. I haven’t been on one very often, to be honest. Max and I went on a cruise once. I liked it, but he wasn’t a fan. Other than that, we did a tour of the harbor one time, and I think we went on a friend’s boat once.”
“Not a water lover, I guess?”
I chuckled. “You could say that. I can’t even begin to describe the shades of green he turned. Even with medication.”
Jordan laughed. “Poor Max.”
“He tried. But it was never something we could do together, and it wasn’t any fun doing it on my own.”
“Hmph. I’ll have to change that for you.”
“Oh? You like boats?”
He stopped in front of a small, neat sailboat. It gleamed white under the lights, the deck a dark contrast to the color of the boat. “I do. This one is mine. I take her out whenever I can.”
“I didn’t know that about you.”
He turned to me with a smile. “That’s the point of dating someone, Sandy. You get to know all about them.” He winked. “Try before you buy sort of thing.”
I laughed. “I’m a little out of practice.”
“So am I. But I think we’re doing pretty damn well so far, don’t you?”
I had to agree. Once I had set aside my nerves, the evening had gone well. Better than well. I had thoroughly enjoyed myself.
He stepped onto the deck, holding out his hand. “Come aboard.”
I stumbled getting into the boat, and Jordan’s arms shot out to steady me. He pulled me tight to his chest, and for a minute I felt him. Solid, warm, safe.
Then he stepped back. “Okay now?”
I brushed back my hair self-consciously. “Sorry—not a very graceful move on my part.”
He reached over and tucked a stray strand behind my ear. His fingers seemed to linger, then he lowered his arm. “I love it when you wear your hair down,” he murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I breathed out.
For a moment, we stared at each other, a warmth pulsating in the air around us. Then he smiled and stepped back.
“We’ll get your sea legs under you soon enough. Now come see my little boat.”
I didn’t know a lot about boats, but Jordan’s was very pretty. Lots of wood and bright plaid in the small cabin made it feel warm and cozy. He showed me the tiny galley, the compact bathroom, and the bed hidden behind a long curtain that doubled as a seating area. It was all neat, tidy, and comfortable looking, albeit tiny.
I was surprised to find out the boat wasn’t named after his wife. He shook his head when I asked. “Anna hated the water. She didn’t get ill like Max, she just hated it. She didn’t swim or like to go to the beach, and she never once came on the boat. So, I named it after my favorite kind of day to have on it. Open Waters.”
“Oh.”
“A good friend of Anna’s drowned when they were younger—she witnessed it happen. She never got over it.”
“How terrible.”
“It was for her—she was never able to move past it. So, I had the boat, and she had her quilting and sewing. I didn’t understand that and she didn’t like this, but it was fine. We both had something we loved.” He smiled. “As I discovered, it’s okay to have different interests, even when you’re married. We were never one of those couples who had to do everything together.”
I nodded in understanding. “As we got older, Max and I were the same. He worked so much he hated to leave the house when he had time off. He liked to hang around the house, take some time to write one of his books or a paper. I loved to travel, so we came up with a compromise. We’d stagger our vacations, and I would hang with him at the house for a week, then take a short trip with one of the grandkids or a friend. When he was working, I stayed busy with book clubs and different activities. We went on the occasional trip, but he loved resorts and I loved to explore. We took turns.”
“We both had great spouses.”
I smiled warmly at him. “We did.”
He cocked his head, studying me. “I think they’d be okay with us, out together tonight.”
I thought of Max. All the conversations we’d had over the course of his illness. He’d met Jordan a few times and always thought he was a nice man.
“Classy,” he said one day. “That man has class.”
My voice was low when I responded. “I think you’re right.”
I was quiet on the drive home. Jordan seemed lost in thought as well but was still solicitous, opening my door, helping me into the passenger seat, making sure I was warm enough. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but contemplative.
When we arrived at the house, Jordan walked me to the door, waiting until I unlocked it. I suddenly felt nervous. Tense.
Jordan met my eyes, a look of understanding on his face. “I had a lovely evening, Sandy.” He gazed at me. “I would like to repeat it.”
“Another date?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like that.”
His eyes lit up. “Great.”
He leaned forward and my heartbeat skyrocketed. My shoulders stiffened, and I drew in a sharp breath. He turned his head and his warm lips brushed against my cheek, then he stepped back, his face inscrutable. “Sleep well, Sandy. I’ll see you at the office on Monday. But if it’s okay, maybe I’ll call tomorrow?”
I nodded, mumbling an agreement. His smile was gentle, and he stroked down my cheek with the backs of his knuckles.
“Good night.”
I stumbled inside, shutting the door and leaning against it, shocked at the disappointment that flooded my body. My reaction to his closeness wasn’t one of rejection, but one of anticipation.
I had wanted him to kiss me.
He thought I was saying no. And Jordan, being Jordan, accepted it with understanding and grace.
I spun around and flung open the door, prepared to hurry down the steps before he drove off.
Except he was standing where I left him. Waiting outside my door as if he couldn’t bear to leave. Our gazes locked and held.
“I wanted to kiss you,” he said. “But you didn’t want that. Did I ruin the evening with the comment about Anna and Max?”
“No. I love that we can talk about them.”
“But you didn’t want me to kiss you.” It was a statement this time, not a question.
“I did,” I replied. “I was just nervous and worried and—”
He didn’t let me finish. In one step, he was in front of me, his hands cupping my face, his fingers tender and warm against my skin. He kissed my forehead, my cheeks, across the bridge of my nose, nudging at it with his own as he discovered me with his lips. Then sweetly, gently, his mouth settled on mine, and he kissed me.
He slipped his hands down my arms, winding his arms around my waist as he pulled me close. I wrapped mine around his neck, holding tight. He was patient, kissing me through my tremors, waiting until I relaxed. Then his kiss deepened, his tongue sliding along my bottom lip, asking for entrance. He tasted like chocolate and cinnamon. His lips were soft, his tongue like velvet on mine. His arms became a warm sanctuary, his mouth worshiping mine with the most tender of possession. I felt his adoration in his kiss. The thrill of him raced through my body, sending shivers of pleasure over me, right down to my toes curling in delight and my finger
s gripping his thick hair.
When he eased back, he dropped two light kisses to my mouth, then simply held me. I felt his rapid heartbeat, and I knew he could feel mine. Finally, he kissed my forehead and stepped away. I immediately missed his warmth. He smiled and drew a finger down my cheek.
“Thank you for a perfect evening, Sandy.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “I look forward to many more.”
I blinked, unable to form words.
“I’ll wait until I hear the door lock behind me.”
I stepped backward, our gaze never wavering as I shut the door, turning the lock.
His footsteps faded as he went down the stairs, and I flung open the door again. He turned to look over his shoulder.
“Text me when you get home.”
His smile lit the night. “I will. Now, back inside.”
I shut the door, smiling when I realized he hadn’t moved yet. I snapped the lock, then watched out the window as he left and drove away.
I was still smiling when his text came through.
I am home and already missing you. Thank you for a wonderful night. Sleep well.
Monday suddenly felt very far away.
Jordan
I woke on Sunday, my first thought that of Sandy. I stared out the window at the rising sun, remembering the evening, the laughter and teasing. The excitement in her eyes when she was on my boat. I was already planning on taking her out for the day. It was the perfect place to spend time with her. Something I loved, that wasn’t as connected to my past. Anna had never even stepped foot on the deck, she was so terrified of water. She had seen a picture and that was all. The boat, my Open Waters, would be a great place for me to spend time with Sandy, creating our own memories.
I also thought about our kiss. I thought I’d ruined the evening, and her reaction as I moved in closer seemed negative, so I had backed off. When she’d opened the door, I saw the same desire in her eyes as I was feeling, and I took full advantage of the moment.
I closed my eyes, thinking how Sandy had felt in my arms. It had been so long since I’d held a woman in my embrace that way. She was soft and yielding. Warm. She smelled like citrus and flowers—a delicate fragrance that was enticing and light. And when our mouths had met, the passion that coursed through my body was hot and bright. It still lingered, and my cock, which had been dormant for years, lay hot and heavy against my stomach, growing harder the more I thought of Sandy. It had taken everything I had not to deepen the kiss last night, shut the door behind me and stay with her. Kiss her until she begged for more and then make love to her.
But that was too fast, and I knew we would both regret it. Sandy wasn’t a fast flash for me. I already felt something for her—the feelings had been there longer than I was ready to admit to myself, but they were there. Last night had been the first time in years I hadn’t felt alone. The first time in many years I felt something other than sadness with only memories to smile about. It was as if I were waking up after a dormant period, my senses coming back to life, yearning to live again.
I slid my hand down my torso, wrapping it around my hard shaft, a low groan escaping as I stroked myself. It had been a long time for me.
It appeared that more than just my senses were waking up.
I threw back the covers and made my way to the shower.
It was time to see just how awake I was.
I sipped my coffee, staring out into the backyard. I sighed, thinking about opening the pool, wondering if I would even bother this year. With Gina and the kids gone, last year, the pool sat mostly unused except for the few times I went in on a particularly hot day. I turned and looked around the house, recalling the conversation I’d had with Gina when they visited at Christmas.
“Have you thought about moving, Dad?” she asked as we went through a box of her mother’s belongings that I had put aside for her.
I glanced around the spare room. “At times,” I admitted. “How would you feel about that?”
She wrapped up a piece of crystal, sliding it into the box. “It’s a house, Dad. I would rather see you happy.” She sat down on the bed and took my hand. “You’ve mentioned rambling around in this place several times. I wondered if maybe it was time to move on.”
“Lots of memories here.”
She nodded. “The memories, you take with you. Maybe the sad reminders can stay behind.”
I had thought a lot about the conversation since then. She was right. I didn’t need a house with four bedrooms and twenty-five-hundred square feet to wander around in. I had a service that came in and cleaned the house, but the truth was, eighty percent of it was unused. I had another company come in and do the outside maintenance, but the gardens remained empty aside from the few perennials. Anna had loved gardening, but I was never big on it so had no interest in all the flowers and plants she would add every year, except to admire her handiwork. I had no desire to try to plant anything myself. The thought of another summer of trying to manage it all suddenly seemed a little overwhelming.
The phone rang, and with a smile, I answered. “Hello, Gina. How’s my daughter?”
“Good, Dad. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are Tina and Leo?”
Gina laughed. “Busy. Eric took Leo to soccer this morning, and I’m sitting in the stands while Tina swims.”
“I miss them.”
“You need to come for another visit.”
“I will.”
“You sound down, Dad. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I was thinking about something just before you called.”
“What?”
“The conversation we had at Christmas about selling the house.”
There was silence, then she spoke. “Are you ready for that?”
“I think I am. It’s too big for just me. I don’t use the pool anymore, and frankly, I think the house needs a family in it.” I rubbed a hand over my eyes. “I think maybe you’re right—it’s time to move on. You could come and take anything you want—I can ship it out to you. Maybe the dining room set? I know you always loved it. And your mother’s china.”
“I would love that.” She paused. “Has something happened, Dad? Something that made you decide?”
I sat down, unsure what to say. I had always been honest with my kids. “I had a date last night. I think it made me realize it was time to make some changes.”
“It must have been some date.”
I chuckled. “I’ve been thinking about moving for a while. I think I realized last night, if I’m ready to move forward in my life, maybe I need a fresh start in other places as well. And to be honest, I’m getting tired of rambling around in this place.”
“Too many memories?” she guessed.
I thought about bringing Sandy here. How I would feel being in the house she shared with Max. They would always be in the background. Our past lives. Past loves.
“Good memories, but yes.”
“Whatever you think is best, Dad. You know I support you.” Then her voice became teasing. “So, this date… You’re not suddenly going to spring some young woman on me as an evil stepmom, are you?”
I laughed at her words. “No. The lady I took to dinner was my age. Quite respectable.”
“Okay then.”
“I’m not looking to replace your mother, sweetheart. I’m just…” I trailed off, unsure what to say.
“I know, Dad. Mom would be happy you are trying. So am I. Warren will be fine with it. You’re too young to stay alone for the rest of your life. Just don’t rush into anything, okay?”
“I won’t. I’ve known this lady for a long time. We’re friends and we went to dinner.”
There was another pause. “Was it Sandy?”
I was surprised by her question. “Yes, it was. How did you know?”
“You always talk about her. I sometimes wondered why you didn’t ask her out sooner. I figured when you were ready, you would.”
“I was waiting for her to be ready.”
/> “Ah, Dad, you’re such a gentleman. I love you.”
I chuckled. “I love you too.”
“I’ll have to call you later, and you can tell me all about the date. Tina’s lesson is done, and she’ll be here in a minute.”
“All right, sweetheart. Thanks for calling.”
“Okay. Oh, and, Dad…”
“Yes?”
“Thanks for telling me. Remember to practice safe sex. Even at your age!”
Then, laughing, she hung up.
I set down the phone, grinning. I wasn’t surprised at Gina’s easy acceptance of the changes in my life. We had always been close, and she fussed a lot over me being alone. She had also suggested I sell the house two years ago, but at the time I wasn’t ready. At Christmas, I had wavered but decided against it. As I looked around the room, I decided that, perhaps, now I was ready.
I checked in with Sandy midafternoon. She answered the call, her voice a little breathless. It immediately took me back to the way she sounded after I had kissed her.
“Hello, Sandy. Having a good day?”
“A busy one. I decided to clean out some spaces. I’ve filled two garbage bags. Honestly, I have no idea why I had some of this junk stuffed in drawers.”
I chuckled. “I know. Sometimes I can’t even recall putting things in places.”
We shared some amusing stories, the mirth welcome. Then I cleared my throat.
“Thank you again for last night. It was wonderful.”
“It was.”
“Especially the end.”
Her subdued laughter was music to my ears. “That was unexpected, but yes, highly enjoyable.”
“Are you free Tuesday?”
“Yes.”
“There’s a tasting menu at Wallaby’s. Each tasting is paired with the perfect wine. Seven courses. How does that sound?”
Sandy: Vested Interest #7 Page 5