by Karla Doyle
“Or I could stay and help.”
“You have better things to do than cleaning.”
“So do you.” He walked to the bucket, lifted the mop and nodded at her while swiping the mop back and forth across the tile floor. “Get to work on those counters, Cinderella. You’ve got a ball to get to.”
“Two, if you’re lucky.” There she went, abandoning seriousness in favor of flirting with him. How could she resist when he was so damn charming and sweet?
A sexy smile curved his lips. “Feeling pretty lucky lately.”
Her too. Since about two-thirty Wednesday afternoon.
To think, she had almost turned back that day. If that single car in a stream of traffic hadn’t stopped to let her cross Dundas Street, she wouldn’t have bumped into Sam in the coffee shop. Her life would be on an entirely different trajectory. Crazy.
Maybe, just this once, she could stray from her routine. The working minutes she’d lose tonight could easily be tacked on to next week’s schedule. Adding those extra minutes to her personal time with Sam would be worth a bit of extra hustle before she opened on Monday morning. One time wouldn’t lead to a snowball, she’d make sure of it.
She cut around the counter and crossed the room to stand in front of him. “Let’s get out of here. Cinderella wants to go to the ball.”
“We’ll get there, I promise you that. But there’s no rush. We can finish the cleaning first. When we’re out tonight, I don’t want you regretting the work you left undone.”
“And I don’t want to regret that I chose to work when I could have spent that time doing something fun with you. Every minute of my day is plotted and organized for maximum efficiency. Even little things like going to get a coffee. I plan everything.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“Until my need for precise execution of the plan results in missing something amazing. That almost happened with you, Sam. I was literally seconds away from forfeiting that Wednesday afternoon coffee run because waiting to cross the street was taking too much of the allotted time. If I’d done what I always do and obsessed about my schedule, I would have turned around and gone back to my shop, to the next item on my planner. We wouldn’t have bumped into each other at Bean There. We wouldn’t have had last night together. And tonight, I wouldn’t have a date with the sexiest man in town. I’d be here, cleaning. Alone. I’m not saying I’m giving up my planner, whiteboard, and timer, but I am going to make a conscious attempt to put them aside sometimes. Starting now.”
“Nothing wrong with that either.” He set the mop head in the ringer, steered the bucket to the corner and leaned the handle against the wall. “Ready when you are, Cinderella.”
SAM
Sam checked his watch. Fifteen minutes had gone by since Leigh went upstairs to change and freshen up. Not long by women’s standards. Seemed like forever to him.
He wanted her back in his presence. On his arm, in his arms, and every other way he could get her. As soon as possible.
Considering how close he’d come to losing tonight’s date, he intended to make it a good one. A night that’d remove all thoughts of work and schedules from Leigh’s pretty head. His turn to be the planner.
“Does this work for whatever we’re doing?” she asked, doing a turn as she entered the living room.
“Oh yeah.” He rose from the couch and closed the distance between them, his need to touch her increasing with each step. “You look incredible.” Screw being a gentleman. Taking ahold of her waist, he pulled her against him. Ran his hands up and down her sexy body, from her bare shoulders to her very fine ass beneath the formfitting dress she’d chosen. “Is it wrong that I want to ditch our other plans, strip you naked and devour you, here and now?”
“God no. That all sounds very right to me.”
So tempting. But not the evening he’d promised. He allowed himself one kiss, then took a difficult step back. “Ready?”
She stole the space he’d created and pressed every possible inch of her irresistible body against him. “For anything you have in mind, yes.”
If he had any doubt about the meaning in her words, he only had to look in her eyes. Yes to anything. And damn, he had a lot of things in mind. Dirty, delicious things. Enough to fill every minute of their night together, and then some.
“Babe, it’s a good thing your shop is closed tomorrow, because you’re going to need the rest.”
SAM
They’d snagged a parking spot nearby and been seated immediately. Now the most stunning woman in the city smiled at him from across the table. Good thing they hadn’t bailed after that brief stutter back at Leigh’s bakery. They were on track for a great night, one for the books.
“Sam.”
He forced his gaze from Leigh’s face to look at the server who’d entered his peripheral vision. Shit. “Liz. I didn’t know you worked here.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Knowing where I work requires more conversation than ‘your place or mine’ and ‘I’ll call you,’ which you didn’t. Well, not when you said you would, anyway.”
Ouch. Bad enough that the truth hurt. Getting hit with it in front of Leigh—whose eyes couldn’t get wider—made it that much uglier. Containment required, before the situation got any worse.
“I’m sorry I treated you that way, Liz. Any chance we can be mature about what happened and move on?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Sam, I’m not going to let what happened between us ruin your date with this woman who is obviously much more mature than me.”
Shit. Apparently, “worse” was on the menu. Special of the day.
Also, Leigh’s eyes could get wider. But only briefly. Then her features settled into their normal proportions. She even smiled at Liz. “Hi, Liz. Look, I’m sorry about this awkward moment and that we’re making you uncomfortable. Since the two of you obviously have a history, I think it would be best for everybody if Sam and I moved to another server’s section. We’re happy to wait at the bar if there are no tables available immediately.”
“You don’t need to move, ma’am.” The smile on Liz’s face contained more artificial sweetener than the diabetic cake Leigh had baked the other night. “I’m done with Sam. I got all traces of him out of my system when I went to the doctor.”
Shit. He stood, glaring at Liz from very close proximity. “Say whatever you want about me, I’ve earned it. But say it to me. The beautiful, intelligent woman seated at your table deserves better. You owe her a huge apology. Even that’s not enough. You can apologize in front of the manager.”
Not only did the haughty expression leave Liz’s face, she appeared ready to cry. “I’ll get fired.” A glance toward the impeccably dressed man cutting a path directly toward them sent the first tear rolling down her cheek.
“Is that the manager?” he asked, and she nodded. “Good. Because you went way too far.”
“Sam.” Leigh’s soft hand brushed his, curled around his forearm as she rose from her seat. “Let’s go someplace else and forget this happened.”
“Not until I make it right.”
“Make it right by walking out of this restaurant with me now, before the manager gets to us and wastes more of our evening.” So calm. So damn good.
“You shouldn’t have been treated that way.”
“He’s right,” Liz said. “I was angry and lost my shit. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Leigh didn’t spare a glance at the teary-eyed waitress. “Let’s go, Sam. Liz said she’s not going to ruin our date and she was correct, because we’re not going to allow her to ruin it.”
Damn straight, they weren’t. He transferred Leigh’s hand from his arm to his palm and laced their fingers together. Then led her the hell out of there.
If he had any doubt that Leigh was the most levelheaded woman he’d been with, she gave him more proof outside the restaurant. Not only did she not freak out and demand an explanation, she continued holding his hand as they walked along King Street. She even gave hi
m a little squeeze.
“To be honest, I wasn’t really in the mood for fine dining in a dark restaurant.” She slowed their pace as they approached one of the many small pubs that dotted the uptown strip. “How about sitting out on the patio here?”
“Sounds great.” The fact that she still wanted to get dinner with him at all sounded beyond great. One hand on the small of her back, he opened the door and ushered her inside. “Two for the patio,” he said, when a female member of the restaurant staff greeted them. A stranger, thank God. As were all the other visible employees. Safe so far.
She accepted the chair he pulled out, then took his hand after he sat across from her. “Stop worrying about it.”
“How can you be completely cool about everything Liz said back there?”
“I’m not, but I’m also not going to throw a fit or jump to conclusions based on one person’s commentary. I told you this morning that I’m not interested in drama. Maturity is one of the benefits of being older.”
“Like everything else, it looks amazing on you.”
“Thank you. And thank you.” The first one went to a waitress, dropping off menus as she passed their table. The second one, Leigh directed at him. “I like you, Sam. I’m attracted to you, obviously, and I’m enjoying spending time with you. So, yes, of course I’m curious about your past. You’re younger, very charming, and incredibly attractive. I’m not naïve, I’m sure there have been plenty of women before me. And I don’t need to know about any of them. Tell me or don’t tell me about Liz, I’m fine either way. Just choose which it’s going to be and commit to the decision, so we can focus on having a good time together.”
No way he’d be so easygoing if their positions were reversed. Hell, look how stupidly he’d reacted after finding Tim’s stuff in the spare bedroom. He’d been lucky to get this second chance. Telling her the truth might bring their night, if not their relationship, to a screeching halt. He didn’t have to tell her. Not now, not ever. No amount of antacid tablets would get rid of the curling sensation in the pit of his stomach. Only one thing would.
“Liz was a one-night stand. I took her home from a club, told her I’d call again but didn’t. Until a couple months later, when I had to call everyone I’d had unprotected sex with because I found out I’d picked up HPV somewhere along the way. I’ve been treated, tested for everything and cleared, and I’ve used condoms every time since.”
“Wow, that’s…” Her hand slid from his as she sat as far back as the plastic patio chair allowed.
The world buzzed all around them. People talked, drank, ate, laughed. Music played. Dishes rattled and glasses clinked. The aromas of food floated into his nose as a waitress walked by with a trayful of steaming, heaped plates of wings and fries. None of it mattered. Only Leigh’s face as she processed the steaming heap of shit he’d just served up.
“Hi, I’m Tammy and I’ll be your server tonight,” a short, bubbly waitress said as she approached their table. She set two glasses of water on the table, her gaze bouncing from Leigh to Sam to the menus, still untouched on the table. “I can take your drink orders if you need a few more minutes with the menus?”
He opened his mouth to tell the waitress they might not be staying, only to have Leigh beat him to the act of speaking.
“A double gin with grapefruit juice, if you have it?”
“Sure do.” Tammy nodded, then turned her attention to him. “And for you?”
Surprised that Leigh planned to stay and have a drink with him, he blanked on a selection until another server passed with a frosty pitcher. “A pint of your house craft special, thanks.”
“The experimental tap this week is an amber lager with notes of citrus and hibiscus.”
“Sounds great.”
“Awesome. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Tammy,” Leigh said, stopping the waitress before she walked away. “Can you bring us something snacky to go with those drinks? We’re not picky, so whatever appetizer you suggest will be good. If you can bring everything out together, that would be wonderful. We don’t mind waiting for the food to be ready.”
“You got it.”
Ah. Planner Leigh had taken control of the date. If that’s what she needed to do, he’d roll with it. Give up the lead for a while. Things had turned out pretty amazing the last time she’d taken charge.
Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head and smiled a little. “The line of doom just disappeared from your face.”
“Line of doom?”
She nodded. “When the eyebrows get low and drawn together. The line of doom.”
“That’s the official terminology?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Her smile bloomed a little wider. She shifted forward in the chair, reaching across the table with her palm up, inviting him to take it.
Which he did, of course. Then used the connection to bring her knuckles to his lips. “Thank you for staying.”
“Doing otherwise never crossed my mind, Sam. I just needed a moment to process.”
“Understandable.”
“And I’m done processing. Unless there’s more?”
He shook his head. “That’s the worst thing I hoped you’d never learn about me.”
“It isn’t that bad.” She laughed when he shot her a dubious look. “It isn’t. Honestly, I bet a significant percentage of adults have dealt with some form of that scenario.”
“Have you?”
“Well, no. But I haven’t had many sexual partners and I’ve only had unprotected sex with one person, ever.”
It was hypocritical of him, but her statement struck a hell-yeah note. It also rekindled his curiosity about her not-really-an-ex.
He’d never been the jealous type. Women had always flowed in and out of his life as easily as water in a sink and he’d rarely given them a second thought once they were gone. Leigh was different. Her entry had been more of a trickle. Something about her made him want to find a stopper for the drain.
“Would it be out of line for me to ask about your relationship with Tim?”
“What would you like to know?”
“Everything. Or just a basic outline. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“There’s honestly not that much to tell.” She reclaimed her hand, using it to take a drink of water before settling in to her seat. “Tim and I met in college while taking the same business program. We hit it off right away and quickly became friends off-campus as well as in classes. A couple of times, after we’d had too much to drink, we took a stab at being more. It seemed like the natural progression, but our chemistry didn’t transfer to the bedroom. We decided to stick to friendship instead.”
That had to be a polite way of saying Tim stunk in the sack. Or that the guy had a small dick. Either way, Tim’s loss had resulted in Sam’s win. Thank you, Tim.
The drinks and snack food arrived, along with another extension of their time with the unopened menus. A couple of nachos and a generous swig of beer later, the mathematician portion of Sam’s brain kicked into gear. Unless Leigh had delayed going to college by a decade or more, those couple of times hadn’t resulted in Leigh’s pregnancy. Meaning there was a lot more to the story than she’d let on.
“You must have given the ‘being more’ thing another try later, since you have Lennox.”
“We did, but not the way you’d think. After college, Tim and I remained best friends, helping with each other’s new business ventures, having each other’s back through years of dating and relationship tribulations. During one of my post-breakup commiserations, which was amplified by alcohol, I told Tim how much I wanted to be a mother and how scared I was that it would never happen, since I was already thirty.”
“You were pretty young to be thinking that.”
“Men have the luxury of coasting in the parenting department. Biology isn’t as liberal with women. Logically, I knew I had years before I needed to worry, but I swear I could feel my clock ticking faster with each month that went by.”
>
Once again, he thanked whatever powers might be for making him a man. He loved women, but he couldn’t imagine being one. Way too much stuff to worry about. The scales of physical responsibility were a hell of a lot lighter on the male side.
“You and Tim started dating after that?” he asked, getting back on track.
In the midst of taking a drink, she shook her head and raised a finger.
He didn’t mind waiting, it gave him the opportunity to simply watch her. Her full, pink lips pressed against the glass. The slender column on her neck as she tipped her chin up. The rise and fall of her cleavage above the neckline of her dress. Everything about her turned him on. Made him want to toss money on the table, throw her over his shoulder and carry her directly to bed. Immediately. Drinks, dinner, and the rest of the story be damned.
He stuffed a loaded nacho chip in his mouth. Something to focus on, instead of the raging hard-on crowding his jeans.
Tilting her head, she set the glass on the table and smiled at him. “Hungry?”
“Filling my face to prevent drooling all over you,” he said, after swallowing the oversized mouthful. “You’re beautiful. I’m the luckiest man here.”
“Sweet talker.”
“Truth teller. Think I proved that a little while ago.”
“Yes, you definitely did.” She shifted to the edge of her chair, reached over and stroked the line of his jaw. “And in doing so, you turned a major curveball into a homerun.”
“You get the credit for that run, not me.”
“Let’s call it a team effort, then.”
“Deal.” Either way, it was wild how the worst possible scenario about the most shameful thing in his life had turned out to be a positive. He captured her hand and kissed it before lowering their joined fingers to the table. “Tell me the rest of your story.”
“All right. It’ll probably shock you to hear that at thirty, I had my entire life planned out.”