by Nancy Warren
“You have a favorite gelato place?” It seemed completely adorable. Then, she was so far gone that everything he did seemed completely adorable.
“I do. It’s run by Italians and the chocolate espresso is amazing.”
The gelato place was in a fairly quiet neighborhood and while he did order his espresso chocolate, she went for something slightly less caffeinated and chose pistachio mint. Naturally they had to try each other's gelato, and then they had to kiss so she tasted chocolate coffee mint pistachio all at once and decided it was a new flavor sensation that ought to be on the recipe board.
Afterwards, they walked out hand-in-hand. He seemed to have a destination in mind so she was happy to follow along. He paused. He had a disturbing glint in his eyes. “Do you know what's in that building on the third floor?”
This was clearly a residential building and she didn’t think they were visiting a friend for coffee. “Your apartment?”
He nodded. “Would you like to come up?”
She appreciated that he didn't make any pretense of offering her coffee or brandy or something. He was clearly asking her if she felt comfortable spending time alone with him. She paused for a second and realized that from the moment she’d walked up to that dress and bumped her nose on the window of Joe’s Past and Present, this moment had been inevitable. She said, “Yes. I would love to see your apartment.”
He led her into the building, up the elevator and to his suite. Every step of the way she felt herself moving closer to the inevitable. He opened the door of his apartment and held it so that she could walk in ahead of him. He put on a light and she saw that the furniture was a little on the shabby side but nice, good-quality pieces. Probably from auctions or things that came through the vintage store. He wasn't particularly tidy nor was he very messy; his place looked lived in. His copy of Pride and Prejudice lay on the coffee table beside the couch and she could tell that this was his favorite reading spot.
He turned her and kissed her softly. “I don't want to rush this, our first time together. Let's make it memorable.”
She felt nervous and jumpy and yet wildly excited. A few hours ago, she’d been pounding down a jogging trail believing any hope of her and Dylan being together was over. Now it seemed they were a couple. She felt that her body and mind needed a chance to keep up to the changing circumstances of her life. “I agree.”
He kissed her mouth and then her cheeks, tiny butterfly wings of kisses. “I want to know everything about you.”
How seductive to have someone want to know everything. And how terrifying. She simply wasn't that interesting a person.
She felt as though every molecule in her body was straining towards him.
Then he turned her so her back was to him. He kissed the back of her neck. His voice was low as he said, “I am so glad you wore a dress with buttons down the back. I've been fantasizing all night about the first time I saw you. The first time you came into the store and you tried on the wedding dress.”
As he spoke he slowly and carefully released the first button and then leaned forward and pressed his lips to the skin he'd revealed. Shivers of desire chased up and down her spine. She had not slipped into the dress intentionally but she had to wonder if, on some subconscious level, she had reimagined their first meeting, too.
“Do you have any idea how much I wanted you that day?” He slipped another button free and once more pressed his lips to the skin of her upper back. She remembered so well that first day even as he’d been both professional and impersonal, it was impossible for him to unbutton the dress without his fingers touching her. Oh, she would never forget the feel of his fingers brushing her skin but that was nothing compared to the feel of his lips tracing the same path now, each of them openly accepting their desire.
With each button slipped out of its buttonhole he grew closer to his goal. But he was not a man in a hurry. She felt that he was savoring every moment, drawing out this slow, tortuous seduction. Her cotton dress might as well have been a silk and satin wedding gown for all the care he took with each button. She felt the ever-so-slight coolness as more skin was revealed. The moist pressure as his lips progressed slowly down her spine, the waft of his soft breath.
Never had she imagined her back as one of her most erogenous zones but with this careful seduction she felt every inch of her to be hot, hot to the point of melting under his lips and hands. He reached the end of the buttons at last and ran the pads of his fingers all the way down to the bottom of the V where her dress gaped. She wore no bra, another reason she’d chosen this dress. “I think you have the sexiest back I’ve ever seen,” he said, his voice growing husky. He slipped the straps over her shoulders and the cotton slid slowly down her body. Naturally, she was wearing her best panties. They were pale blue silk with lace panels, an indulgence she had not been able to resist.
He turned her slowly to face him, and she felt that she was all but naked while he remained fully clothed. Her skin was ultrasensitive. He kissed her and then drew back, gazing down at her near-naked body. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said.
As much as she wanted to drag his clothes off, and fast, she also took her time. There could only ever be one first time for them and she wanted this to be special. She untucked his shirt from his jeans and lifted the hem, slowly, revealing his torso inch by inch in the same way he had bared her back, only going backwards so she first revealed his lower abs, tight and ridged with muscle. She bent and put her lips there. And then a little higher. His skin was hot and while she worked her way slowly up his belly, his hands were busy in her hair, caressing her shoulders, her back, every bit of her that he could reach.
At the end he helped her pull his shirt up and over his head and then tossed it to the floor. He wasn’t particularly big or bulky, but had defined muscles and a strength to him that she liked. When he pulled her in for another deep kiss her breasts rubbed against his chest, sending delicious shivers through her. She felt his excitement press against her and it fired hers. It seemed as though they had run out of patience, for even as she reached for the button of his jeans, he was there before her unbuttoning, zipping, yanking, hopping on one foot to free himself of the last of his clothing and then finally standing before her naked.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her into the bedroom. She paused at the door. She’d done nothing about birth control and, much as she hated to throw cold water on the proceedings, she had to ask before she lost her head. “Condoms?”
“Taken care of,” he said.
“Good.” She sighed in relief. And followed him. She had the vaguest impression of a large bed, gray duvet cover, more of that solid, dark furniture. A bookcase. He laid her down on his bed and began to kiss his way down her body. He slid her panties off, and dropped them over the side of the bed, then pulled the covers over them so she felt warm, and protected, and so very excited.
She felt tension in every line of his body. And she understood that this moment mattered, that she mattered.
He was so beautiful to her and as he looked into her eyes, she felt that she was beautiful to him too. They toyed with each other, learning each other's bodies, touching, caressing, stretching out the anticipation until neither of them could wait any longer. He reached into his bedside drawer and grabbed a condom, then sheathed himself swiftly and efficiently.
She parted her legs for him and he entered her slowly, his gaze intent on hers and she knew that whatever happened, this moment would be etched in her mind forever as one of the most perfect moments of her life. And then they began to move and she could no longer hold onto one coherent thought.
Joined. The word lodged in her mind as she felt him inside the very deepest part of her. He clasped her hands in his and she wrapped her legs around him. Joined, that's how she felt and even once their lovemaking was over she knew that in some way she would always be joined to him.
Chapter 12
When she woke up the next morning the fir
st thing she saw was her brand-new lover beside her in bed. He was asleep and had one arm flung over her, his face already shadowed with morning stubble. She thought she could get used to waking up to Dylan. Perhaps her scrutiny woke him, for his eyes opened sleepily. And as they settled on her face, green with darker flecks that fascinated her, he smiled, a slow, sexy smile. “Good morning. Did you get any sleep?”
She grinned, and stretched, memories of that long, delicious night rippling through her. “Not much.”
She felt different. As though the world was colored a little brighter and her emotions were a little higher, her senses sharper. Even though they’d barely slept, she bounced out of bed full of energy. He put on coffee while she showered and they made breakfast together. Eggs and toast and fresh fruit.
She hadn’t said the words last night but she had felt them in every cell of her body. She loved this man. She loved his sexy green eyes and morning stubble, his intelligence and his humor.
They talked for a long time over coffee, and then he said, “I'm heading into the store this afternoon for a couple of hours. But otherwise I’m free. Maybe we could go to the beach later. Or grab a movie or anything you like.”
She loved that he was planning his day with her in it. Like a good boyfriend. Even as the word boyfriend skittered through her mind, she shied away from it. She did not want to get ahead of herself. She needed to take this one day at a time and be happy for every moment they had together. Besides, she had a pile of work to do at home. She said, “I’ve got a pile of manuscripts I need to get through, but I can take my work to the beach.”
“Cool.” He put away the dishes that he’d washed and she’d dried. “I’ll drop you back home and then call you later.”
“I’d be devastated if you didn't. I wish they’d pick the new agent so I could stop stressing.”
He glanced at her with sympathy. “Still haven’t found the next Pride and Prejudice?”
“Not even a Catch-22.”
“Tell you what, the beach isn’t going anywhere. How about you bring your work over and I'll cook you dinner tonight?”
She blinked. Instead of being demanding of her time, he wanted to help her. Her love pretty much doubled in that second. “Why am I not surprised that you cook?”
“I have no patience with men who can’t do domestic chores. Growing up with a single mom I learned to cook, clean and do laundry. I’m also pretty handy with a hammer.”
“Joe did a good job with you.”
He grinned at her. “Thanks. I’ll tell her you think so.”
He dropped her off back at her place, kissed her thoroughly, and then went on to work.
She tried to focus, she really did. But she’d be reading a manuscript and suddenly become aware that she had no idea what the story was about. Her mind was wandering like a girl with her first crush. She wondered, what was Dylan doing? Was he thinking about her?
She grew so irritated that she forced herself to put Dylan, and the events of last night, out of her mind and concentrate only on her reading. This lasted approximately five minutes until her cell phone rang and she saw that it was Dylan calling. She said, “Hi,” and felt all warm and sexy that he’d called her already.
She very much hoped that he was as distracted as she was.
He kept his voice low. “I thought I'd tell you that my aunt is working today. This might be a great opportunity to practice your impersonation of a shark.”
She squealed with delight. “Really? What kind of a mood would you say she's in?”
“A good mood.”
“Great. Are you going to tell her that I'm coming?”
“Negative. I don't want her thinking I tried to manipulate her. That works against you.”
“Got it. I'll just wander in looking for . . . I'll think of something I need.”
“Got to go. Can’t wait to see you.”
Meg had managed to get through the better part of three manuscripts. Nothing called to her. Two were very competently written, interesting enough in their own way, but not outstanding enough that she felt the agency could do anything with them. She had two more paper manuscripts and one more computer file to go through. June had also emailed her a manuscript. She knew she would need to look at it in the next couple of days but today, when she was so happy, she did not want to have to try and think up diplomatic ways to tell her roommate that her first novel sucked.
It wasn't uncommon, most first novels sucked, but she didn't have to live with all the other first-time novelists whose manuscripts she turned down.
Fortunately, June had been out all day. She had not had to deal with one needy author in her space, only manuscripts of half a dozen needy authors that she would likely never meet.
She dressed with care to go back to Joe's Past and Present, putting on a wrap dress that was easy to slip off since she would be trying on clothes. She thought that if she was going to stop by Joe's she had better do some shopping to disguise her intention. Though, of course, Dylan’s aunt was a very intelligent woman and would no doubt see right through her ruse.
She took extra care with her makeup and hair, and that was not for Dylan's aunt's benefit but for Dylan himself. The thought of seeing him again, even though they’d only seen each other a few hours ago, filled her with excitement. She really had it bad.
When she strolled fake-casually into Joe's the store was surprisingly busy. Dylan handled the cash desk while his aunt helped customers. She took her time browsing, while surreptitiously keeping an eye on Dylan’s aunt. She wore yet another vintage gown today. She looked elegant, retro, and kind of funky. Meg loved her style.
Dylan had not seen her yet, he was too busy ringing up purchases and bagging items. He glanced up from the last customer with a cheerful, “Thanks for waiting. Come back soon.”
Then he caught sight of her. Since she was already watching him she had the pleasure of seeing how glad he was to see her. His face lit up and he gave her a big smile and then beckoned her over. She came behind the counter; there were half a dozen people in the lineup. In front of all of them he reached over and gave her a quick kiss. “Can you help me back here for a few minutes?”
She felt the thrill of being included as though she were part of his life, part of Joe's. Since the Evangeline wedding gown was safely hanging in the display window she had no fears about helping move merchandise. “No problem.”
And so, as he rang up the purchases she stood beside him doing her best to fold every item neatly and place it in the bags that were stacked beneath the counter. When the rush ended, Dylan's aunt came up to them. Her eyebrows rose when she saw Meg behind the cash desk and Dylan quickly said, “It was crazy back here. I had a lineup eight people deep so Meg jumped in to help bag purchases.”
“That was nice of you, Meg. It's good to see you again.”
“Great to see you again too. I love your outfit.”
Janet Delaney looked down at herself in peach silk and shrugged. “It's a little over the top for daytime wear, but I thought it might help move merchandise. Besides, there's just something about the flapper era that calls to my heart.”
“Have you ever felt you were born, not into the wrong time exactly, but that a certain era of clothing was made for you?”
Dylan’s aunt stared at her as though she were telepathic. “Yes. Exactly. It's not that I believe in reincarnation, but I’ve always been drawn to this era, to these clothes and Deco architecture and jewelry. Even the books of that time.”
Meg nodded, enthusiastically. “A Movable Feast, The Great Gatsby, I know.”
“Is that your era, too?”
She shook her head. “I think, for me, it would be Regency England. The muslin dresses and bonnets, I would not have wanted to live in that time, though. I'm too attached to indoor plumbing, antibiotics, and my computer.”
“I wish we had something for you in the store, but of course, anything surviving from that time would be almost impossible to find apart from in museums and privat
e collections.”
She sighed. “The one thing I most want in this store is that wedding gown hanging in the window,” she admitted.
Janet shook her head in amazement. “Honestly, I think if we had fifty of those dresses we could sell them all. I've never seen anything like it. I've had three women in today practically demanding to buy it. I thought one was actually going to throw a fit when I told her she could not have it. She said it was hers.”
“I know how she feels,” Meg admitted. “There is something about that gown that brings out the romantic in all of us. I'm not even engaged, yet I feel like that dress was meant for me.”
Dylan glanced up. “Oh, it was.”
Janet glanced shrewdly between the two of them and she had a feeling that she could see the brand-new intimacy between them. She was determined not to blush.
A couple of young men walked in and Dylan said, “I’ll go help those guys.”
As he left, she felt that he was giving her a chance to talk to Janet privately. Since she had no idea how long it would be until the next horde of shoppers entered the vintage store, she grabbed her chance with both hands. She said, “Have you thought anymore about what I said, last time we met? I would love to take you for lunch and talk about your experiences.”
Janet Delaney had about three decades of experience on her and had travelled around the world. She was nothing if not sophisticated. She smiled gently and said, “I would love to have lunch with you and talk about my travel experiences and my writing. I think you're a very interesting young woman and I suspect that we have a lot in common. However, I have to be honest with you, after our last conversation I called my agent and asked how they would feel about me working on a film project with another agency.” She shook her head. “They have a film agent based in LA and they have sent all my books for consideration. I've been with that agency for more than twenty years. I have to be loyal. They’ve been very good to me. I'm sorry.”
Meg tried to hide the crushing sense of disappointment she felt. It seemed like a gift from fate when she had bumped into Dylan's aunt and discovered that the woman was a famous travel writer. However, she hid her disappointment as best she could. “I understand. And I would still love to have lunch with you. As I said before, I am a huge fan of your work.”