by AnonYMous
But as Aaron sat with his firm arm wrapped protectively around me, urging me on despite the pain that would otherwise envelop him, I opened up for the first time. It felt good when I was through, and I took encouragement from the fact that since I wasn’t about to allow myself a relationship with Aaron, it didn’t matter what I’d told him. When I was finished, I realized that Aaron was rocking me gently back and forth in a fatherly, protective way.
“So that’s why you were so reluctant to go out with me at first.” He brushed a tendril of hair off my forehead.
“That’s why I’ll never let another man into my life,” I said matter-of-factly.
With his fingertip, he turned my face to look at him. “No other man?”
I looked into his eyes and felt them pierce through to my soul. I looked away from him, startled, as his look stirred something that I’d thought I’d buried the day Eric had left.
He lifted my chin again and focused his eyes on my lips. The look ignited a spark inside me that I tried to squelch, but the emotion raged into a flame as Aaron lowered his lips over mine. He pulled me closer to his hard body and molded himself against the curves and swells of my own. My brain told me to push him away, but my arms wrapped around his neck of their own volition.
His kiss deepened and his tongue flitted across my teeth. When he pressed it hotly against the roof of my mouth, I finally found the courage to push him away. But by then, my body had betrayed my words. A flickering smile rode on his lips.
“Don’t be so hasty to lump all men together just because you’ve been hurt by one.”
“Look, Aaron, I know that you’ve been through a lot today, and this kiss we just shared probably means nothing to you—the same as it means to me.” I looked away from him so that he couldn’t see how much I was struggling with the words. “I think it would be better if you left now.” I gave him a sidelong glance and watched as a pained expression clouded his eyes. He stiffened next to me.
“Means . . . nothing?” He stood up in front of me, eyes narrowed. “My kisses never mean nothing, Belinda. You should know that about me from the outset.”
I touched the back of my hand to my lips and turned away from him. He understood the signal and moved to leave. He looked back over his shoulder as he turned the doorknob. “Belinda—” But he never finished the sentence. He just walked out the door.
I wrapped my arms around myself and squeezed. I was angry that I had responded to the kiss of a virtual stranger. I told myself that I was right to push him away before he could wreak similar damage on me as Eric had done. I went back to bed, secure with the bittersweet knowledge that that was the last I would see of Aaron Castillo. And that it was a good thing. But something about our recent actions uncapped a vessel of emptiness within me that bothered my sensibilities. Still, I told myself that seeing the man again would not be a good idea.
Of course, I was wrong. Two days later when I got home from work, Aaron was camped out on my front step with a tripod and a camera in tow.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I turned the key in the lock. “I thought we were clear about . . . things . . . the other night.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. I looked away and remembered the negative that had brought him to my home that evening. “By the way, how’s Ginny?” I asked, hoping to break the uneasy silence.
Aaron’s lips curled up into a half-smile and the intensity of his gaze lessened. “Much better. Out of intensive care.” He saw me looking at his camera and continued. “I was wondering if you’d consent to letting me take your picture. I’d like to have a photo of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
I shook my head. “If that isn’t the world’s worst pick-up line “
“I’m not trying to pick you up. You made your views on that quite evident.” He chuckled. “Although, if I did want to pick you up, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”
My eyes flashed to his. What a colossal ego! I thought. Still, I couldn’t stop the reaction my body was having to him as a warm, pervading swell washed over me. “Are you always this sure of yourself?”
He looked to the floor and then into my eyes through a forest of thick, black lashes. “Actually, I’m pretty shy around most women. It’s just that with you, I sensed a deep compassion that struck a note with me. I mean, how many people would go out of their way to return something as worthless as a picture negative to a stranger?” He shrugged, and something about that action told me that he was light years away from Eric—that he was nothing like Eric in any way. Still, I didn’t dare let my defenses down with any man—did I?
As if he had read my mind, he moved closer to me and touched my cheek with his fingertip. “I’m not like your ex-boyfriend, you know.”
I looked away, confusion pelting at my brain. “I—I just don’t know. . . .”
Aaron moved closer to me. I could feel the heat that he was generating warming my skin. He brushed a strand of hair off my shoulder and narrowed his eyes at me. “But I know. Belinda, just believe me when I tell you, I know.”
Before I could ask him what he meant, I sensed him move closer to me. When his lips met mine, it was like the floodgates of my emotions opened up. He dropped his camera equipment onto the floor and moved me to the couch. As he pressed me down onto it, I was unable to deny him, even if my mind was a jumble of questions.
“Belinda,” he murmured into my ear. “I want you. Except for the few hours when Ginny was rushed to the hospital, I haven’t been able to think of anything but you.” He brushed his fingertip across the curve of my cheek. My attention focused on the tiny patch of skin where he touched me as my body clenched in a swirling sea of desires I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“And if I have to prove to you for the rest of my life that I’m nothing like your ex-fiancé, I will. Because I know that you’re something special and I want to prove to you that I can be something special to you, too.”
His lips found the curve of my throat, and as he planted hot, moist kisses against the tender flesh, all my reservations about Eric flew out the window. I tried to push Aaron away—tried to remember the pain Eric had caused me and how scared I was that another man might cause me more. But my heart took over my brain. And as it pounded loudly in my ears, my confusion dissolved. I pulled Aaron closer to me and I sensed him smile against my cheek.
“Wait. We have to stop this or I will never be able to stop,” he said.
I bolted upright, startled. Eric had never stopped when he was aroused, even if I wasn’t in the mood. Aaron was different.
He looked at me and pressed a kiss against my forehead. “Belinda, I want you. I really want you. But I never want you to compare me to your old boyfriend. I want to prove to you that I’m not like him. And let me tell you, I know his type. I’m nothing like that.”
He nuzzled his lips against my earlobe. “So, if it’s okay with you, I want to wait a while before we get more intimate. . . .”
I felt his breath against my skin, and my mouth dropped open in surprise at his words.
“Because I want it to be right when I make love to you.” He grinned with a sensuality that was almost palpable, and I shuddered. I could tell that his self control was hard won. But that tiny bit of restraint on his part told me in no uncertain terms that Aaron Castillo was different from any man I’d ever known. He was special.
He swallowed hard and traced a circle against the skin of my hand. He looked up at me and smiled. “I’ll tell you another thing, Miss Belinda Marx. Someday, you are going to be Mrs. Aaron Castillo. I can promise you that.”
My mouth dropped open again, but he stopped my verbal reaction with his fingertip.
“Because I know these things . . . I just do.”
We dated for a year before we got married. By then, I knew that he was the man I’d waited for all my life. Ginny’s health rallied and she was the flower girl at our wedding—as beautiful and as haunting as the little girl in the picture that brought her uncle and me together in the
first place.
Now when Aaron takes photographs, they include all of us—one big, happy family. THE END
One Hell of a Slugger
HOME RUN
Payback improves her batting average and her love life
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” I muttered as Gemma dragged me to the bar.
“You can’t sit home forever,” she stated. “It’s time that you got back in the saddle!”
“I was quite content sitting home wallowing in my misery, I’ll have you know.” Nonetheless, it did feel good to be dressed up and going out. It had been two weeks since Chad had dumped me. Maybe it was time to dust off my heart and get back in the game again.
“You can bet that Chad’s not sitting home!” Gemma scoffed.
“Please,” I groaned. “Do we have to bring that up?” My cheating ex-boyfriend was the last thing that I wanted to dwell on tonight.
“There’re other fish in the sea,” Gemma rambled on. “And as pretty as you look tonight, well honey, you can’t help but land one!”
“I could care less if I hooked up,” I firmly stated. “I’m just out to have fun!”
“Well, it appears to be a full house.” Gemma pulled into the packed parking lot. “Let’s go have some fun!”
I tugged down the vanity mirror and applied more lip gloss. Finger-fluffing my wavy shoulder-length dark hair, I took a deep breath. Now or never. I followed Gemma as she sashayed into the Willow Bend Bar.
“Hey, sugar,” she purred to the bouncer. “We too late for the band?”
“They just started their first set.” He smiled back, not bothering to charge us the cover. His muscular arm snaked out, blocking the guy behind us. “That’ll be five dollars,” he said to them.
“Come on, Heather.” To say that Gemma was a livewire would be an understatement. Her short blond hair was spiky, and her style was as outgoing as her personality. I paled by comparison. She bounced up to the bar with me trailing in her wake.
“Two cold ones!” A notorious flirt, she batted her eyes at the bartender, knowing full well that it would be the last time she laid out money for drinks tonight. Already, men were checking her out—and she them.
Settling awkwardly on the barstool, I surveyed the joint. Couples filled the dance floor as the country band rocked. Single men lined the bar and gathered in small groups. “Looks like paycheck Friday. All these cowboys have money to spend.”
“Then we’ve come to the right place,” Gemma remarked. “You’ll never meet anyone working with those old hens in your office.”
I had to nod my head at that one. Sullivan Printing was a nice place to work, but the excitement factor was nil. I’ve been there for five years, and not one good-looking man has passed through my tiny cubicle. Still, I didn’t want Gemma to think my prospects were dismal. “Betty wants to set me up with her nephew.”
“If his auntie has to fix him up,” Gemma snorted, “he must be a real winner.”
Nursing my beer, I refused to comment, knowing Gemma was right. He’s hot! I checked out a hunk down the bar. A black T-shirt stretched over taut muscles. Sandy blond hair tumbled over his forehead. He’s looking this way! I smiled at him. Maybe I hadn’t lost it after all.
He tipped back his bottle, draining it, and set it on the bar. He’s coming this way! Nervously tapping my freshly polished nail on my bottle, I held my breath. My balloon promptly burst when he laid a hand on Gemma’s shoulder and asked her to dance. She grinned up at him and was on the dance floor in an instant.
Slipping back into my wallflower mode, I cast my eyes downward and finished off my drink. Straight away, the bartender set another bottle in front of me. “On the house.”
“Thanks,” I smiled weakly.
He leaned over, grabbing the empties and swiping the bar with a rag. “Haven’t seen you in here in a while.”
“It’s been a while.” Two years, in fact…before I started dating Chad. I was surprised that anyone would remember me from those days.
“Don’t be a stranger.” He flashed me a grin and moved to the next customer. He’s cute! Why can’t I remember him?
Suddenly reflective, I began to think of Chad. Being with Chad was like riding a roller coaster. Fun, scary, unsettling, and at the end…nauseating. Boy was I glad to be off that ride.
I had thought Chad was the one. As handsome as he was, I felt thrilled that he had chosen to be with me. After dating a few months, we moved in together, much to the chagrin of my parents. Even though we hadn’t talked much about marriage, I had expected Chad to pop the question any time. Months turned into a year, and then it was almost two years, and still no proposal.
At the end, all the signs were there; I was just too blinded by love to see them. Chad seemed to be working late more often. He would get calls on his cell late at night and have to leave. “Trouble at the job site.”
He did dry walling. What problems couldn’t wait till the next morning? Sitting home alone, I would stew. I was furious with his boss for putting these demands on my boyfriend. Looking back, what a fool I was!
Then the inevitable happened. Chad insisted that we talk. “I think that we should see other people.”
I was stunned and turned to my best friend for advice. “What is he saying?” I had begged Gemma in tears as she tried to console me.
Gemma doesn’t beat around the bush. “It means he’s already seeing other people.”
When I confronted Chad, he denied my allegations. “I don’t know where you’re coming up with these cockamamie ideas. You’ve been talking with Gemma, haven’t you?” Nonetheless, he didn’t waste any time packing his stuff and hightailing out of our apartment.
That was two weeks ago. He’s not coming back! After crying myself to sleep every night, I finally resolved to get on with my life. This would be the first step.
Glancing up, I saw that Gemma was still dancing. She motioned me to come onto the dance floor, but I waved her off. I was happy on the sidelines for now. I sighed and concentrated on my beer.
I couldn’t help but notice the cute bartender as he passed by with a case of beer. His body, long and lanky, easily handled the load. His dark hair was buzzed-cut, and his ebony brown eyes seemed too big for his face. He smiled as he caught me staring. “I’m taking my break in a few minutes. Want to join me?”
“Sure.” What did I have to lose? No one was beating a path to me.
In less than a minute, he was by my side with a plate of nachos and two more beers. “I think I saw an empty table back here.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me to a dark corner.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” He pulled his chair close so we didn’t have to shout over the noise from the band.
Studying his face, I searched my memory. “No, I guess not.”
“A couple of years ago, I was on this side of the bar,” he hinted.
“You played softball, didn’t you?” I recalled the summer that I joined a league. “Sure, it’s coming back to me now. This was the after-game watering hole. As I recall, your team annihilated the Sullivan Sluggers—both times!”
“So, you do remember.” He grinned ear-to-ear.
“You were the pitcher.” I gave him a punch to the arm. “You had that crazy windup, and then you would try to stare the batter down. And you struck me out—three times!”
His voice got serious. “I always wanted to ask you out, but I never got up the nerve. Then the season ended and you didn’t come around here anymore. I hung around here so much, waiting, that they finally put me to work. I bartend here on the weekends.”
How sweet! My heart melted. The only way I knew to respond was to reach out and hold his hand. Yes, I had noticed him, but by the end of the season, I was with Chad. “Do you still play?”
“Every summer.”
“I really enjoyed playing that summer.” Maybe it wasn’t too late to sign up on a team for this summer. I made a mental note to check.
“I’ve g
ot to get back to work.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “Why don’t you have some fun and we can get together after I finish my shift?”
“I’d like that,” I smiled. “Wait. What’s your name?”
“Nick. I told you I get nervous around beautiful women.”
My self-esteem soared. “Pleased to meet you, Nick. I’m Heather. And I will see you later.”
Gemma plopped down the instant that Nick left. “Okay. Who is he?”
“A man from my past,” I smiled mysteriously.
“You have a past?” Gemma mocked.
“Yes, and soon I’ll have a life again.” My good mood was smashed in a split second. “Look who just walked in.”
Gemma’s mouth fell open as Chad and a woman strolled toward the pool table, their arms wrapped around each other. “What does he see in that bleached-blonde bimbo?”
It was pretty obvious to me. Her low-rise jeans were skintight, showing the top of a black thong, and her glittery, snug top showed plenty of cleavage. The way she clung to Chad made my skin crawl. “Let’s get out of here.”
“We’re not giving them the satisfaction! Besides, Waynesboro’s not that big. You’ll be bumping into Chad every now and then. Now, let’s dance!” She didn’t give me a choice as she dragged me to the dance floor. “I’ll show you how to line dance.”
The band was playing one of my favorites. Watching Gemma’s feet and following her moves, I became too focused to even care about Chad. From time to time, I glanced over to the bar. Nick was watching. He grinned and gave me a thumb’s up. I grinned right back and kept dancing.
“Whose bed have your boots been under.…” The lyrics of the next song struck too close to the heart, and reality came thundering back. Chad was just a few feet away. His boots had been under someone else’s bed, and now he was teaching her how to shoot pool.
“I have to go to the ladies’ room,” I choked back a sob.
Thankful for the solitude, I dabbed at my eyes. Get over it! I chided myself. Two years were wasted on Chad, and now it was time to move on. She can have him! I took a deep breath, fighting for composure. My nose twitched from an oddly familiar odor. That perfume!