by Marika Ray
He shook my hand and wasted no time on comforting words. “Got it.”
I raised an eyebrow as I spun around and marched up to Lily-Marie’s front door. I knocked and stood there with my heart in my throat. I was nervous as hell, but I also just wanted to talk to her, see her. I’d missed her like crazy.
The door cracked open and then swung all the way open. All the butterflies in my stomach left me the minute I laid eyes on her. She was in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with Mickey ears. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she had glasses perched on her nose.
“When did you get glasses?” As soon as the question left my mouth, I wanted to smack myself. We hadn’t talked in almost two weeks and that was what I led with?
She blushed and pulled them off. “A couple weeks ago. I just need them when I’m on the computer.” She narrowed her eyes, a soft smile on her face. “How’ve you been, Jameson?”
“I’ve been better, honestly. I’ve got a surprise for you, though. Do you trust me?” I held my hand out, wondering if she’d recognize the line from Aladdin.
The smile grew and she put her glasses down on the entry table and took my hand, stepping closer.
“Thank you for the flowers. My house looks like a beautiful florist.” Her voice lowered, like her words were just for me.
I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed her silky skin, immediately remembering how soft she was and how much I’d missed having my lips on her. Stepping to the side, I gave her a view of the limo. But she just kept staring at me, not noticing the huge vehicle in front of her house.
“Your carriage awaits, m’lady.” I swooped my hand out to the curb and she finally looked away, just then noticing the limo and the driver.
“Wha—” Her mouth dropped open and I silently sent up a prayer she’d go along with the plan.
“You have an appointment and I made sure you had an appropriate ride to get you there.” The whole time I spoke, I walked her out to the curb, stopping in front of the driver, who held the back door open for her.
“But—wait. Jameson.” She gripped my hand tight and turned to me, her back to the limo. “Jameson, I want to talk to you.”
I pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “I know. I promise we’ll talk after. But you can’t be late. See you in a little bit.”
Like in a trance, Lily-Marie stepped to the open door and I helped her in. She wasn’t smiling, but she was going along with it and that was all I needed right then.
Unable to help myself, I leaned in and kissed her quickly, her hands coming up to reach for me. I ducked out of the way, regretting it, but knowing it was for the best. I had to pace this date. The driver slammed the door shut and I stepped back onto the curb.
Watching the limo take off down the street, I let hope fill my chest, bringing a smile to my face. For the first time in almost two weeks, I felt like things were on the right track. That we could make this work.
When the limo turned the corner, I pulled out my phone and texted Gabby again to let her know Lily-Marie was on her way to her. Then I pocketed my phone and hustled back to shut Lily-Marie’s door and then back to my house to continue pulling strings and orchestrating this date.
Four hours later, the limo made its way back down our street. Thankfully, I’d had rushed texts from Gabby all afternoon to keep me from losing my mind. The dress fitting had gone perfectly, with Lily-Marie walking out in the dress she’d tried on when we’d gone clothes shopping with the kids. I couldn’t wait to see her in the turquoise ball gown, the one that highlighted every curve she owned like a boss.
I’d made a mad dash to the store with Lily-Marie’s purse and cell phone to hand off to Gabby. I knew she’d want it in case the kids called. They too knew about the plan for today. I’d told them yesterday when they were in the backyard playing with Butterscotch. I pinkie promised them to keep it a secret, and miraculously, they had. Lastly, I ran Butterscotch over to Gabby’s house, praying he didn’t chew up all her furniture before she got home.
Lily-Marie made it to her hair and makeup appointment right on time, thanks to Gabby rushing her along. I just hoped Gabby had been able to stick to her guns and not let out the secret. She’d sworn to me she’d keep everything to herself, but I knew how persuasive Lily-Marie could be. Four hours was a long time to keep this big of a secret from your best friend.
The limo came to a stop and that puke-y feeling was back. I opened the back door before the driver could get there, too excited and nervous to wait. The next step of this grand gesture was ready, I just needed my date.
A silver strappy stiletto emerged first, then the gorgeous curvaceous leg it was attached to, the one that had been wrapped around my waist not long ago. Then a flash of turquoise and finally, Lily-Marie’s beaming face.
“Jameson.” She looked stunned. Her expression was entirely different than the stunned look she’d had running away from me when I told her I loved her. I wasn’t sure why this time was different, but I’d spend all night convincing her how good we could be together so she never ran away again. My words would not fail me this time.
I held out my hand and she accepted, standing up out of the limo, her lush breasts brushing against my chest. Somehow, I’d forgotten how perfect that dress was for her, highlighting her many assets. I just hoped I was the lucky man who got to spend eternity with her.
“Are you hungry?” I took in her features, the smoky eyes, the lush lips with some kind of unnecessary gloss on them. Her hair was piled on top of her head still, this time with pins and curls artfully arranging her long locks. She was stunning.
“Starved,” she whispered back, her gaze darting to my lips.
Well, fuck. I briefly considered scrapping the rest of the date and going straight to my bedroom to try my luck a second time, but barely restrained myself when I heard the horse whinny.
Oh, that’s right. Forgot to mention I’d booked a horse and carriage to take us to dinner. But not just any horse and carriage. The one sitting in front of my house was the Cinderella carriage, made of white bars and swirls in the shape of a pumpkin.
“Then let’s get to dinner, huh?” I stepped back, still holding tight to her hand, to give her a better view of the carriage, and her reaction did not disappoint.
She gasped and her free hand went to her chest. Then a smile so radiant I’d be living off of it for days, lit up her face. She turned to me and that’s when I knew that no matter how dinner went or how badly I bumbled the conversation, I had a chance. All the love I felt for her shined back at me through her eyes. We had things to discuss, for sure, but the feelings were there. Mutual. Unfiltered. No longer masked by fear.
I led the way, careful to keep my pace slow so she could navigate the curb and patch of grass in her stilettos and long dress. She giggled halfway there, a sound I’d never get tired of hearing. It was the grown-up version to Milly’s giggle.
“Now I understand the suit.” I spun my head, a question in the way my eyebrows climbed my forehead. “You know, you always dress formal with your slacks and sweaters, but even for you, the suit was a bit much for a casual Saturday.”
“Ah, yes. You know it’s a big deal when I don’t wear my favorite sweaters. But I knew you’d be stunning in that dress, and a new suit seemed like the right thing. You’re not mad I kept your afternoon activities a secret?”
We reached the carriage and I opened the door for her. She paused before stepping up.
“Mad? That you planned a whole day of activities to make me feel special? No, Jameson. I’m the opposite of mad.”
I helped lift her up into the carriage and waited until she got her skirt situated before climbing up next to her. “You know I’m a science professor, right? I don’t know the antonyms for mad.”
She tossed back her head and laughed. “I’ll just have to show you then.” The sexy smirk on her face made the wind roar in my ears and my pants decidedly tighter.
“Oh, wait!” Lily-Marie nearly jumped off the bench seat. “I f
orgot something! Can you run into my house and grab the stapled papers off the breakfast table?”
I frowned, wondering what she could have that was so important. “Sure. Let me grab them. Here’s a blanket if you’re cold.” I placed it on her lap and over her bare arms. Yes, it was Southern California, but it was also still February. Temperatures could get down into the fifties at night.
I ran into her house and found the papers easily, rushing out to climb back in the carriage. With a flick of the wrist, the horses were off, clopping down the street. I’d booked the entire Italian restaurant near our houses. A candlelit dinner for two and no one to bother us.
We were going slow enough that we barely passed a runner on the sidewalk. I did a double take and realized it was Runner Boy from the other day, off on another run without his shirt on. A deep smugness puffed up my chest, knowing she’d turned him down and here she was on a date with me instead.
Lily-Marie didn’t even look at the passing scenery, just handed me her papers and then twisted the blanket in her lap.
“What’s this?”
She twisted so she was looking right at me, worry etched across her face. “I’m sorry, Jameson. I’ve been meaning to say that for a while now. I’m sorry for walking away from you when you told me you loved me. You see, I realized I carry some baggage from my ex. And I let that taint what we have. Or had. I-I’m hoping this date tonight means you still want me.”
I gave my head a shake. “Still want you? Lily-Marie, I want you always. Forever. I wasn’t lying or confused or mistaken when I said I love you. I know I just blurted it out there and I should have done a better job of it, but as you know, words aren’t my forte.”
Lily-Marie rushed to interrupt. “No! It was perfect. Really. I just wasn’t ready to hear it. That’s all. Can you forgive me?”
I grabbed her hands, gently prying them off the blanket. “I already have. But I have something to confess before we go any further.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”
I squeezed her hands and laid it all out. “My father called when we first moved here. Turns out he’d found some articles my grandmother had written a long time ago. She was an advice columnist for Prevention. He shared one with me that was called Fifty Ways to Find a Wife. I’d just had a conversation with Stein about love and I’d explained to him how I didn’t think romantic love was a real thing. Biological love for offspring is documented, but I just didn’t agree with love between non-related humans. I hadn’t experienced it or really even seen it in my life, so I told him I’d prove it didn’t exist. I took the article and tried out her list on you. We’d just met and I liked you, so you seemed like the perfect woman to try things out on.”
“Oh my God.” Lily-Marie had gone pale under her makeup. I rushed to keep going, to get out the whole story before she demanded to be taken home.
“No, but wait. Turns out, my hypothesis was incorrect. Massively. Romantic love definitely exists and when I realized that, I was so excited, I blurted out that I loved you at the wrong time. All those things I was trying from the article didn’t make you fall in love with me, it helped me fall in love with you. But you’re not an experiment. And I should have explained everything before I told you how I felt. You deserve more than an ill-timed confession of love blurted out while I had you pressed against the wall.”
Her cheeks flushed with color again. “I quite liked being pressed against the wall.” She squeezed my hands and lifted her legs to drape them across my lap. “Thank you for telling me. But I have my own confession and you’re going to freak out when you hear it.”
“You can tell me anything, I promise.” I couldn’t help myself. I flipped her long dress up and tunneled my hand underneath to stroke her bare leg.
“Mmm...” She closed her eyes for a second and then opened them. “Keep that up and I might start bumbling my words too.” We smiled at each other. “I love to go to yard sales. Have I told you that? Well, I was at one right after you moved in and I found an old magazine I ended up buying. Guess the title of the column that caught my eye?”
At my headshake, she kept going. “Fifty Ways to Find a Husband, written by Loni Sanders in 1959.”
My hand froze. “That’s my grandmother. Well, that’s her pen name. You read her article?”
She nodded, a grin creeping onto her face. “Yep. I sure did. And I followed it to a tee. I kept trying her list out on random men and you kept foiling my flirting.”
I was shell-shocked. I literally couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So, the same list, but for women, that I was following too? Only you were attempting to flirt with other men, while I was attempting to flirt with you?”
She nodded, her grin now a giggle. “Can you believe that?”
“Breaking down in front of the firemen?”
“Part of the list.”
“Baking pies? Making your own clothes?”
“The list.” She tilted her head. “Dancing? Flowers?” She gasped. “The button on your shirt?”
“All from the list,” I confirmed with a nod. “What are the odds that we’d move right next to each other and both find an old article of my grandmother’s from 1959 about finding a partner and actually follow through with it?”
“The odds have to be pretty high. Probably more than winning the lottery.”
“It’s like it was...”
“Fate?” she whispered.
“Destiny,” I answered.
19
Lily-Marie
Dinner was a heady rush of intimate conversation, long glances, and a new feeling flooding my body I couldn’t quite put my finger on. His focus was 100 percent on me and me alone. The attention was like rain in the desert, necessary, wanted, treasured. But I almost couldn’t absorb it all. I was in my head, wondering what I’d done to deserve this man. I wanted to stop thinking and just feel, just appreciate this time with him.
He’d rented out an entire restaurant for me, delivered me there in a horse-drawn carriage, and attended to my every need. Well, except for one. I was hoping he’d satisfy that one later tonight too.
When we’d stuffed ourselves on the best ravioli and tiramisu, Jameson pushed back his chair and dropped his napkin on his empty plate. Our server didn’t even come out with a bill, which was weird, but I guess when renting out a whole restaurant, that’s taken care of ahead of time. I wouldn’t know about such things. I only had the disposable income to rent out a Taco Bell in the early morning hours when there wasn’t much demand for a bean burrito anyway.
He came around, his eyes morphing into a darker gray that spoke right to the pulse between my legs. I shoved back my chair before he could get to it, nearly tipping it over in my haste to get to the rest of the evening’s entertainment.
His low chuckle vibrated right through me, shaking me out of my head and finally returning me to my body. Then his hands skated up my arms from behind, causing goose bumps to follow.
“I miss your hair,” he whispered as he kissed along the back of my neck.
“Pretty sure it’s still there...” My voice came out breathy and I was happy our waiter wasn’t there to hear how far gone I already was.
That low chuckle again. “Oh, it’s there, Rapunzel. I just want it down so I can wrap it around my fist and tug on it.”
Holy fucknuts, Jameson was talking dirty to me. My mouth went dry and all the moisture went south. I loved how he could go from a nerdy professor in conversation to a dirty-talking Don Juan mere seconds later.
“Let’s go home.” He pulled away and I shivered again, missing the warmth that radiated from his muscled torso. Holding my hand, he walked us out to the carriage and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and another across my lap.
As the horse lurched into motion, he palmed my cheek and tilted my head just where he wanted it. His lips touched mine with an urgency that surpassed our previous make-out session, a level I didn’t think was possible.
Not much was said on the way
home, at least not with words. We’d said everything we needed to say at dinner. God willing, the rest of the evening would be about feeling, touching, fucking. Please, please, please let there be fucking.
By the time we reached my house, I was ready to strip down there in the carriage for all our neighbors to see. Everything was on fire and I’d lost all inhibitions.
Jameson pulled away and stood up, hitting his head on the carriage. I giggled, giddy to see his tented suit pants, knowing he was just as turned on as I was. He lifted an eyebrow at my laughter and even that was working for me.
We practically ran out of the carriage and up to my house, not even saying thank you to our sweet driver. I sure hoped Jameson would tip him well.
“Hold on, let me take off my heels.” I tugged on his hand to get him to slow down.
“Nope. I have visions of those on my shoulders. Here.” Dipping down, Jameson ignored my yelp and scooped me up in a princess carry, proceeding to race to my front door and open it with my keys.
See what I meant about Don Juan? He just said he wanted my stilettos on his shoulders and I was ready to combust with lust. How did a nerdy science teacher learn to talk so perfectly raunchy?
“How many women have you been with?” I asked in wonder.
Jameson got us inside, slammed the door shut, and flipped the lock. I could just make out his face in the light from the porch.
“Are you sure you want to ask that right now?”
I realized his meaning and shook my head. “Nope, pretty sure I don’t care. Just wanted to know how you learned to talk like that.”
He smiled, more than a hint of wickedness in it. “You like when I talk dirty, huh?”
“I fucking love it.”
“Tsk, tsk. Such a mouth for a princess.”
I laid my hand on his cheek, loving the rough stubble that scraped my skin. “I love princess movies and I know I’ve always wanted to be swept off my feet, but I realized I don’t actually need that. I’m no princess, stuck in some ridiculous fairy tale with unrealistic expectations.” My heart lurched in my chest. “Wait! Do you still have my papers?”