Long Time Coming

by Scarlett Parrish

  The name meant nothing to me, so I murmured something neutral and waited for him to finish gathering his bits and pieces; keys, wallet, phone. While he did so I took a last glance around his loft apartment and tried not to sigh as he opened the door and we stepped out. Childish, but I wanted to say goodbye to the house or at least felt that I ought to.

  We said nothing as we waited for the lift. I carried my overnight bag; he didn’t offer to take care of it for me. Standing side by side, we watched the panel counting up the numbers until the doors opened. He let me step forward first, ever the gent. Doors slid shut, he pressed the G button for the ground floor.

  No one has ever touched me—

  I cleared my throat as if by doing so I could clear my mind of the image of him sliding a finger inside me-

  "Something up?" Leo asked, frowning.

  "No, no."

  "Sounded like you were choking."

  "No. Just clearing my throat."

  "Oh. Good." He nodded, stood at my side, didn’t seem to hear the screaming in my head.

  Touch me, just touch me, for God’s sake. Just your hand, on my arm. Something.

  One floor down.

  He coughed. Lightly. Looked at me.

  I tried not to notice. Failed. Finally I gave in and met his gaze with my own.

  He bit his lip and although he didn’t strike me as being lacking in self-confidence, he appeared uncertain then. "You know..."

  "What?"

  "I think you should put your bag down."

  "Why?"

  "Jesus..." he muttered. "Just do as you’re bloody told, woman, will you? Quick."

  So I did, dropping my bag where I stood and he grabbed my waist with both of his hands, shoved me up against the lift wall, forcing the breath out of me and before I had a chance to catch it, his lips were on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hands traveling up my body, clinging to every inch. Then on either side of my neck, in my hair, stroking my jaw. There was something desperate in his kiss, the way his lips were just there, his tongue was just there, in my mouth, more than tasting. Searching.

  "God." Even after he broke the kiss, he kept his hands in my hair still wet from the shower, panting against my face. "I had to do that before the doors opened." He kissed me again, a peck, still not ready to stop. "I’ve always had a thing about doing things I shouldn’t, in places I shouldn’t be doing them."

  "Why..." I took a few more seconds to catch my breath. "And why shouldn’t you have kissed me?"

  He motioned up to one corner with a tilt of his head. "Security cameras."

  "Fuck."

  Standing back, lifting his hands off me, he laughed. "What? You don’t let a little CCTV bother you, do you?"

  "You never told me there was a camera up there."

  He shrugged, faced front again, as if the kiss had never happened. "Meh. They’ve probably recorded worse. And..." Leo waited until I picked up my bag and stood at his side again. "I know I sure as fuck have done worse on camera."

  "What?" I looked up at him and he winked, saying nothing more as the lift doors opened and he strode ahead, looking over his shoulder only to throw a few words at me.

  "Well? Are you coming with me or not?"

  Shaking my head, I followed him into the underground parking garage.

  "This is mine here."

  I stopped in my tracks. "This...?"

  At the passenger side, he looked back at me. "Yeah, what’s wrong with it?"

  "Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s... a Jag."

  Leo grinned under my obvious approval. "Yeah. I love her."

  "Her?"

  "All cars are female. I’m sure you can insert your own joke about a ‘ride’ there."

  "A black Jag, eh?"

  "Yes. A black Jag. Would madam care to get in? Oh, you can put your bag in the boot if you’d prefer."

  "No, no, I’ll be fine. There should be room." It was a rare thing, having a man open a car door for me, so I enjoyed it while it lasted. Feeling deliciously decadent, I got in, backside first, then legs, and arranged my bag at my feet.

  When he got in the driver’s side, I laughed softly. "I’m surprised you got a two-seater though."

  "Don’t tell me." He started her up and we pulled away. "You’re thinking I look like the kinda guy who’d make good use of a backseat?" He kept his eyes on the road but I was free to look at him, drink in the line of his jaw and the stubble loosely covering it, the smirk, the dimple.

  "Given what I know of you..."

  "Yeah, yeah, I know. You think I’m a pervert."

  "I know you are." When my own smile grew almost painfully wide, I turned away, looked out of the passenger window. "You know how to get there?" I asked and my throat swelled up, painfully so.

  "Yeah, yeah. I’ve never been inside your diner but I know where it is. Passed it plenty of times."

  I’d never seen a black Jag speed past, but given the speeds of which it was capable, all I had to do was blink to miss it. "They’re gonna love me rocking up in a Jag this time on a Monday morning."

  "Impress them, will it?"

  It impresses me, I wanted to say. "It’ll stand out. They’ll probably wonder who’s driving it."

  "And now you’ll be able to tell them."

  "Ah. I’ll just say I picked you up in a bar and don’t know your name."

  He reached across to my knee, his hand inching up the inside of my thigh for a moment or two before he lifted it away. "Damn it. Apparently there are laws about keeping both hands on the wheel, so much as I’d love to..."

  "You’d break laws on hotwiring a car but not on driving it when you’re in it?"

  "Hey, wench—this is my car, not stolen!" Through his protestations, Leo laughed. "Bought and paid for, fair and square. Besides, all those laws I broke were in my youth."

  "Even the coke...?"

  "Okay, okay, you got me. The laws I break these days are in the safety of my own home."

  "Or the safety of a lift?"

  "That wasn’t breaking the law. That was just mischief. And..." He shrugged. "And, I felt horny."

  "When do you not?" I sniggered, surprised at my own ability to laugh, despite the fact it was Monday morning. I was about to start work.

  Leo Carson was about to drop me there and speed off into the sunset.

  "You sighed. You sound fed up."

  "Did I?" How to cover my tracks? "Oh, just work. Not in the mood."

  "You should pull a sickie."

  "And risk getting the sack, or facing the wrath of my boss?"

  "Hell, I could’ve gone in there and sorted them out for you. No one can resist the might of the Carson. And here we are." He pulled over, cut the engine and sat back. Leaning against the headrest, he turned to look at me. "Safely delivered to the diner. So this is where you work, huh?"

  "It is." I undid the seatbelt, not looking at him now, because one mere glance would have me wanting to stay.

  I already did want to stay but the way his voice had dropped to a husky whisper... I knew he’d be looking at me through his eyelashes, giving me puppy dog eyes... driving me a hair’s breadth from the decision to let my job go hang and telling him to take me back to his place...

  "Hey..." His hand came to rest on top of mine, as my other reached for the door. "I think you’re forgetting something." He lifted the hand which had made contact with my arm, beckoned with his forefinger. "A goodbye kiss is in order, I think."

  Ah, there it is. The word ‘goodbye’. My heart sank even as he leaned in and I mirrored him. Even as his hand brushed my hair away from my cheek and mine came to rest on his thigh. Even as his tongue slipped into my mouth and my chest heaved with instant arousal.

  The kiss broke off, but as before, his hand stayed in my hair. "Piper," he whispered against my lips.

  "You’re making it very difficult for me to get out of this car and go to work, Carson." I tried to sound admonishing, but my voice was soft and breathy, as was his, husky with desire.

  "And yo
u’re making it very hard for me, Holt."

  "You know what’ll happen."

  "You’ll have another orgasm or two, so will I. We won’t be able to walk for a month, stupid grin on my face, everyone’s happy. I really don’t see the fuckin’ problem." He lifted both hands in a Gallic shrug and raised his eyebrows, looked for all the world like a man trying but not quite managing to look innocent.

  I knew better.

  I knew him better.

  Hand. On door. Open door. Exit. Now. "Bye Leo." I winked and turned away before he could reply. Get the fuck out of here. Despite the thundering of my heart and panic rising in the back of my throat, I managed to get out of the car without knowing how I summoned the willpower.

  I bent down to look at him once more. Just once. Give me that. My willpower didn’t stretch to slamming the door shut behind me without looking back and striding into the workplace now so boring and mundane by comparison.

  Those eyes.

  "Have a nice day, Holt." He winked up at me, reached for the inside door handle.

  Ask me to stay. Once more. Ask me and I’ll do it. How the hell have I managed to say no to you so many times? I hate my job. It was okay. Then there was you. Now it’s... Ask me to stay. Hell, I’ll quit my shitty little job altogether if you want. All you have to do is ask.

  I took a deep breath. Made it a slow one, just to give him time.

  Nothing.

  Summoning acting skills of which Hilary Swank would be proud, I grinned. "And, uh... thanks for the ride, Carson."

  And like an automaton, my body straightened, let the door go, watched him pull it shut then turned and marched into the diner.

  While Leo Carson drove away with some indescribable, unnamed piece of me.

  Seventeen

  "Girl, what is your problem today?" Karen, one of my workmates, asked that afternoon as we took a brief lunch break in the staff room. "You’re in a world of your own."

  "Am I?" I tried to look nonchalant but it required such effort in the end I gave up and yawned. And no wonder, after so little sleep. The fluorescent strip lights in the poky chamber lulled me closer to sleep with each intermittent flicker.

  "Yes. Come on. Tell all. Splitting from that slurping douchecock hasn’t taken such a toll on your emotional wellbeing that you’re losing sleep over him, has it?"

  "Was he really that bad?" I asked, suddenly curious. "I mean, was I making a tit of myself going out with him? No, wait." I pushed my plate aside, having left most of my macaroni cheese to waste. The ache just below my ribs wasn’t hunger pangs and couldn’t be cured by a plate of pasta.

  "No, no, he’s a looker. I’ll give you that. You know how to pick ‘em, but..." Karen tutted and her black brows knitted together. She leaned across the Formica-topped table, balancing on her elbows and I mirrored her stance, sucked in to her conspiratorial mood. "You came into work a few times frowning. And when anyone asked what was up, you’d say Andrew in that voice of yours—"

  "What voice?"

  "That ‘don’t fuck with me, this is bigger than PMT’ voice." Karen’s lips thinned to a bleached line. "Makes me wonder why anyone goes out with a fella who pisses them off so much. I could see the end coming you know." She sat back, a stern look on her face.

  "Far be it from you to say you told me so, huh?"

  "Oh no, no, no. Well, yeah. I was waiting for the day you’d split. You didn’t smile much when you were with Andrew, did you know that?"

  "No, no. I didn’t. Not at all?"

  "Oh in the beginning, when it was new, yeah. But in the end?" She shrugged. "Not so much. Crisp?" She offered a mini tub of Pringles but I shook my head, no.

  "Not hungry."

  "Hmm. You have got it bad, whatever’s eating you. If it’s not Andrew."

  "Hell no." I shook my head. "I haven’t thought about him in ages." I sipped my can of coke and set it down again. "I haven’t forgotten anyone’s orders today," I pointed out. "Or dropped anything."

  "No, but you haven’t smiled either, which is why I thought Andrew was messing with your brains."

  "Nope."

  "Okay." She stretched back in the plastic chair, drumming the tips of her fingers on the table edge. "Then what’s his name?"

  "Who?"

  "Don’t fuck with me, Holt. The only thing that could make a woman drift around her workplace like you’re doing today has a cock and balls and—"

  Snorting with laughter, I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth. "Karen!"

  "Oh, like you’re not used to such crude talk. Do me a favor."

  She hadn’t mentioned the black Jag or enquired after its driver so I assumed she hadn’t seen Leo drop me off. Or perhaps she hadn’t made the connection, which was unlikely as how many people with Jaguars did we know? They’d be bound to stand out. Especially if she’d seen me clambering out of one. In a way I was glad of her lack of Jaguar-specific interrogation, because if someone made enquiries I’d want to talk about him so much that once started, I’d find it impossible to shut up.

  "I’m just tired, that’s all," I said, hoping she’d drop it. Knowing she wouldn’t.

  Her raised eyebrows and crossed arms told me so.

  "Honestly. I haven’t had much sleep."

  "Hmm." If it were possible, her eyebrows inched even higher and she rearranged her crossed arms under her ample bosom in a positively sarcastic way, tilting her chair on its back legs as she did so.

  "Karen. Stop it."

  "Stop what?"

  "Stop looking at me like... okay, okay, I give up. I’ve been shagging all weekend."

  "Ha!" she screeched, letting the chair drop and jabbing at me with one finger. "Thought so! What’s his name?"

  "Karen Lynch. What makes you think I got his name?"

  "Nothing would surprise me. So come on, ‘fess up."

  "Don’t you have a life of your own?"

  "With that joke of a husband? Are you kidding? No. I live my social life vicariously through tarts like you."

  "Thanks a bundle."

  "Ah, I mean it as a term of endearment," she said with a wave of one hand. "I haven’t been out on the piss in ages."

  "I wasn’t drunk, you know."

  "Was he?"

  "We only had one drink."

  "Hmm. Fast worker, eh?"

  "I didn’t pick him up that night. I knew him beforehand."

  "How long for? Twenty-four hours?"

  "Oh, excuse me, I think I just prolapsed my sphincter muscles laughing so much."

  "Yeah, yeah. I know. That’s long term for you, isn’t it?"

  "A week."

  Karen whistled through pursed lips. "So you met a dude after your split from Andrew and you’ve already spent the night with him?"

  "Nearly the whole weekend."

  "Ooh. Bit of a stud was he?"

  "Shame, I’d love to stop and chat but break time’s nearly over."

  "You’re not getting out of it that easily."

  "Gotta get back to work now."

  "Piper. Stop it. You’ve got to at least tell me what he was like."

  "Exhausting." I stood, carrying my plate, planning to scrape it into the bin before rinsing and leaving it on the draining board. Staff room hygiene was a little more lax than that of the customer kitchen, but no one had died of botulism in front or back of house, so I figured we were good.

  "Are you seeing him again?"

  I flinched. Felt it happen, hoped Karen hadn’t seen it.

  "Well?"

  Persistent little bugger, aren’t you? I wanted to ask, without a clue how to answer. Replying in the negative would hurt too damn much. Replying in the affirmative would be untrue because I... just...

  "Don’t know." I shrugged, marveling at my shoulders’ ability be casual when the heart beneath them most definitely was not. "We didn’t make any arrangements to meet up again." The words, bitter ashes on my tongue, made me want to gag. I wanted out of the room, or at least away from Karen and her questions but my feet refused t
o move.

  "But... if you knew him for a week before you hooked up, he must have got in touch somehow so I’m assuming he’s got your number?"

  Warmth spread out from the ache below my ribs and it took me a second to realize what it was.

  Hope.

  "Yes. He does."

  "Maybe he’ll call."

  "Maybe he will." Joy rose within me. "Maybe he won’t." And dissolved. "Maybe he got what he wanted," I added, knowing there was no maybe about it. Sure he had. What I didn’t know was if he was the type of man to be up for a rematch. Oh sure, he could easily have gone again this morning, but the point was, that might have been because I was there. Available. Would he go out of his way to seek me out now the conquest had been... well, conquered? Battle won, challenge met, target fucked, mission accomplished?

  "There’s only one thing I can say to all this, Piper."

  "Oh?" I rolled my eyes and sighed. There was no point in protesting verbally; Karen would say it anyway. An eye roll and a sigh were my versions of rebellion.

  "I just hope he’s a better man than Andrew was."

  A sharp burst of laughter sprang out of me. "Oh God, yeah. Jesus..." As I shook my head, tears of hilarity welled up in my eyes. Or at least I told myself that’s what they were. "No contest. Absolutely no contest."

  "Good." She winked. "Then Andrew is out of your system, then?"

  "Karen. Andrew was out of my system before he was out of the relationship." Gratified to see a genuine smile on Karen’s face by way of reply, I continued. "There’s no fear of me backsliding to the days when I thought dating men like Andrew Kincaid was a good idea."

  "Yes, those long gone days of only a few weeks ago?"

  "A lot can change in a few weeks," I pointed out, ignoring the voice at the back of my mind which added, a lot can change in a weekend.

  Eighteen

  "All right, all right, hold your bloody horses!" I yelled as the doorbell rang for the third time in quick succession.

  My forehead tightened in an uncontrolled frown but I stopped mid-stride in my hall, stared at the front door and my facial muscles relaxed as I remembered what had happened there not long since, wondering, hoping...