Fated to be Yours

by Jodie Larson

  “What I wasn’t expecting was for you to take my breath away. I have never seen a more beautiful sight in all my life than you at that moment.”

  The gentle touch of his palm against my cheek stirs something inside me. It’s not desire, which is there, but it’s something more, something I can’t quite put my finger on just yet. The intensity of his words loosens up another brick from my carefully guarded wall. I lean into his touch with a soft sigh.

  “Really? I find that hard to believe because I was a mess. I mean, my hair wasn’t done, my make-up was washed off and I’m not even going to address the lack of clothing issue.”

  His lips find mine once more, halting my argument. “Too much talking. You are beautiful. I don’t care if you believe it right now or not, but I will tell you that every minute I’m with you until you do.”

  I shift on his lap, my backside making contact with the growing bulge at the seam of his jeans. Andrew grunts and places me on my feet, discretely adjusting himself in the process. My eyes are drawn to his movements but quickly look away because I don’t want to get caught staring at what appears to be the start of a rather impressive erection.

  He rises from the chair and runs his hands down my arms. “Now if we don’t get going soon, I’m going to have to revise my plans and they’re going to involve that bed over there.”

  Andrew nods in the direction of my bed and another stirring happens between my legs. Do I really turn him on like that? Between the initial proprietary statement at the door, the low growls and the bulge in his jeans, it’s becoming clear to me that yes, in fact, I do.

  This knowledge makes me feel stronger, more confident that Andrew actually does care about me. With a final kiss on my nose, we lace our hands together as we leave the room, heading toward the lobby and out into the brisk night air of London.

  “So where are you taking me?” I ask. Our hands swing in time with our steps while the wind blows my hair around, making it catch in my lip gloss repeatedly. Andrew laughs, retrieving the strands from my lips and tucking them behind my ear. His smile warms me against the cold wind, but I secretly want it to keep blowing if it means he’ll always be tucking my hair behind my ear. Such a simple gesture and yet there’s more to it than what meets the eye. It’s intimate without being awkward, personal and yet something you can do in public without causing people to stare. I’ve never experienced this sort of positive attention from a guy before and I’m beginning to like it.

  “You’ll see when we get there. Tell me, what are a few things you’d like to see while you’re in London?”

  My lips twist to the side as I think about everything I could possibly want to do.

  “Well, there’s Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey,” I say, snapping my fingers when I forget the names of places and landmarks. Andrew helps me out with a few more names, making a mental checklist as I go.

  “Oh, and I really want to ride on the subway.”

  He throws a quizzical look my way. “Subway?”

  “You know, the underground train?”

  He laughs. “You mean the Tube.”

  “Yes, that.”

  He kisses the top of my head as we approach a large station sporting the words Canary Wharf Underground.

  “Well let’s check one off your list right now.”

  I giddily jump up and down as we board the train. It’s basically like I thought it would be; packed with people. But I equate it to riding the subway in New York. An experience you need to do at least once, simply to say you’ve done it.

  We emerge from the Waterloo Station a few minutes later and start walking toward the water. The grip his hand has on mine increases as I see where he’s taking me.

  “The London Eye! You’re taking me to the London Eye!” I screech. He laughs and catches me as I jump into his arms, squeezing him as if my life depended on it. He holds me close to him, allowing his scent to calm me down as usual.

  “Yes, love, the London Eye. I figured the best way for you to get a good view of London is from the top. I’ve reserved our tickets so we can enjoy it together. This is the best way to see the city at night.”

  Andrew sets me back down on my feet, cupping my cheek and kissing the top of my head. The public displays of affection don’t seem to bother me anymore as we walk hand in hand to the pod indicated on our tickets, which he must have picked up before he came to the hotel.

  I let go of Andrew’s hand once we’re inside, going straight for the giant fishbowl window. It’s dusk and the city lights are twinkling over the river. It’s just breathtaking to see. Andrew walks up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me into his chest. His warm breath tickles my ear as he plants a kiss on it.

  “Stunning, isn’t it?”

  I turn around in his arms, placing a gentle kiss upon his lips. “It’s amazing.”

  “Just wait until we start making the rotations. The view from the top is extraordinary.”

  The rest of the crowd files in and the waiters come around with glasses of champagne. I barely even notice that we have started to move until I glance out the window.

  Andrew hands me a flute, clinking it with his and smiles. “To our first date. May we have many more dates together in our future.”

  There’s that sparkle again, brightening his eyes as they hold onto mine. It’s the same sparkle that causes a fluttering in my stomach and the blood to rush through my veins at rapid speed. Deep down in my gut I feel the pull to him, lifting my spirits, taking me higher into the clouds.

  I can’t help but stare at him over the rim of my glass. He’s dressed so casually in his jeans and button up shirt, yet he still makes it look so refined. And he’s taking me out on the town tonight, making me feel like the most important person in the world. The new sense of confidence I’ve found flounders slightly as the nagging question of why me bounces back into my head, followed closely by the realization that we only have two more days together. Two more days of enjoying him, enjoying our time together and shared moments that make my knees weak and my heart flutter.

  Andrew tilts my chin up with a push of his knuckle. Slight frown lines appear on his beautiful face as his eyes search mine. “Tessa? What’s wrong? You seem sad.”

  I shove the unwelcome thoughts back into the black abyss and force a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m just silly. I was thinking about the wonderful time we’re having and how much I don’t want it to end.”

  I give my empty champagne flute to a passing waiter before entwining my hand with Andrew’s. “I’m so happy when I’m with you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I feel like I’m at home. Does that make sense?”

  His thumb traces a line down my cheek, brushing across my lower lip. Multiple emotions flash through his eyes, likely mirroring my own.

  “I do know what you mean. I lose my breath every time I see you or get lost in the depths of your eyes, praying that I’m never found. The connection we have is so strong it makes everything else just disappear.”

  My hands run up his chest, feeling every muscle as they climb and inch their way upward, finally linking around his neck. I step closer and press my face into the warm skin at the collar of his shirt. The heat radiating from his body warms me even though I’m not cold. No, the slight chill running down my spine is due to the subject we keep avoiding, or at least I do. But we need to address the rather large elephant in the room because at some point avoiding it will be too late.

  “But I’m leaving in a few days. I’m afraid what we have, or what we could have, will be gone when I leave and I don’t want it to be over. Not yet.”

  He pulls back and his lips quirk up into a smile. “We will have more than a few days together, love. I promise.”

  The rest of the ride was spent in his arms, holding me close against him, letting his words echo through my head, giving me the faintest amount of hope for a future with him. The details on how exactly that will work out are still up in the air but the c
onfidence with which he said them has me wanting to believe him.

  “Are you hungry?” he asks me as we walk down the street.

  “Actually, I am. I could go for something light to eat.”

  “There’s a small café near here that has the best sandwiches you’ll ever have.”

  His arm is draped across my shoulders, pulling me close to his side as we round a few corners until we’re standing in front of the small building. The delicious aromas coming from the doorway have my mouth watering and, as if on cue, my stomach rumbling. I clutch it with my hands and start to laugh because truly this only happens when I’m around Andrew.

  He laughs and drags me inside the door. “We better get you some food rather quickly. I don’t want you wasting away before my very eyes.”

  “I’m pretty sure that I am in no danger of that happening,” I reply on an eye roll.

  Andrew finds us a booth in the corner. I slide into the seat and am surprised when he slides in next to me, rather than across the table. Our shoulders and knees press together in the confined space, causing blood to rush to those areas, warming them instantly. The smell of his cologne is stronger and I resist the urge to lean into him but apparently Andrew has other ideas. He leans down and nuzzles his face into my neck, whispering sweet words of endearment, making me laugh at times as his breath tickles my skin and his hand rests firmly on my knee. My hand covers his and I close my eyes, savoring the moment.

  The waiter clears his throat next to us, causing me to jump in surprise while Andrew just laughs into my hair at my reaction. How does a quiet girl like me go from blending into the background to engaging in public displays? I look over at Andrew as he orders food for the both of us and I know the answer to my question. It’s him. He does it to me. He brings out something dormant inside me that has been aching to be released.

  We refrain from another embarrassing show of affection and decide to learn more about each other instead.

  “What about your family? Do they live close to you?” Andrew asks.

  Our fingers play with each other and I bite my lip, wondering how I’m going to explain my family without going into too much detail.

  “Sort of. My father lives in one of the small suburbs of Minneapolis, not far from my apartment. He’s an Assistant Attorney General for the state so his plate is always full of court cases and meetings.”

  “And your mum?”

  “My mom still lives up north. I don’t get up there to see her very often. What about yours? Are you parents close?”

  He nods and takes a drink of his water. “They are, actually. Still living in the same house I grew up in just outside of London. They both just retired and are starting to relax a little while enjoying the peace and quiet.”

  “Good for them. That must be exciting.”

  Andrew nods. “My dad is thrilled to finally have time to relax. My mum is less than thrilled to have him around the house all day long. I have a suspicion that she invents little things for him to do so he stays out of her hair. But it’s just as well. My dad would go crazy if he had to sit around all day long with nothing to do.”

  I laugh and watch his facial features soften when he speaks of his parents. You can tell that he loves them very much and must have a close relationship.

  “Do you see them often?”

  “I try to make it up there when I can, which is only about every few months. But my mum is religious about calling me every Sunday morning, regardless of where I am. Unfortunately, that also means that she doesn’t care about the time changes and sometimes finds me answering the phone at two o’clock in the morning.”

  “But that’s sweet that she does that. It means she cares about you.”

  “That she does,” he says.

  I chew on my bottom lip and decide to ask the one question that keeps nagging me. “I hope you don’t find this rude, but I have to say this. You don’t sound anything like I would have expected an average British person to sound like. I mean, you don’t speak with all those funny phrases and slang words that I have zero idea what they mean.”

  Andrew laughs, threading his fingers through mine before bringing my hand up to his lips.

  “I was wondering if you were going to comment on that. You’re correct. I don’t use much slang when I speak because I’ve learned that no one else in the world understands me if I speak that way. So I had to train myself to speak more eloquently, more business-like, and less like a tosser who is constantly pissed, and looking for a good rogering while his life is all sixes and sevens.”

  I laugh so hard I have to hold my stomach. “I have no idea what you just said, but it sounds so funny.”

  He laughs and smiles with me. “That is exactly why I had to train myself not to speak that way. Could you imagine me walking into a boardroom and start spouting words like codswallop or wanker or worse, blow me? Which does not mean what you think it means.”

  “Stop,” I say breathlessly. “I’m dying. No more. Okay, I get it. So you decided that sounding more American was better?”

  “For the most part. When I’m at the pub though, my old habits tend to come out. Otherwise, my mates will give me hell all night.”

  “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  He laughs again. “No, most definitely not.”

  I slow my laughter and just admire his face. He looks so carefree and happy when he’s laughing. And I love the fact that he’s laughing with me and not at me. Not to mention that his laugh is contagious, making me want to laugh with him all the time. And who doesn’t love a man who can make her laugh?

  We decide to move to safer subjects after that. He tells me of his days at Oxford and all the trouble that he caused with his fraternity brothers. I laugh some more at the stories, especially since I really cannot see him getting into any sort of trouble whatsoever.

  And he’s incredibly attentive when he listens to me talk briefly about my life back in the States. He keeps his focus on my eyes, never darting around or looking bored as I go on about the neighbors that I think are slightly crazy. Or the dog down the street that likes to come visit me whenever he gets off his leash. Of course, my stories are nothing compared to his, but that doesn’t seem to matter to him. He’s genuinely interested in everything that I have to say, treating it like it’s the most precious information that he’ll ever receive.

  But as our stories progress, sadness creeps in again. The faint sounds of a ticking clock can be heard through the quiet murmuring of patrons and it seems almost symbolic as if it’s counting down our time together.

  I shake off the feeling, needing to bring my focus back to the present and just enjoy our date. We eat and laugh some more as I listen to him talk. He switches into a few different languages with some of the stories about his travels and that does something entirely different to me. Andrew’s voice is sexy in his native British accent, but add other languages into the mix and it’s just . . . oh, my. Words can’t even describe it. Just listening to the way he rolls his R’s or the fluent French he slips into is damn near the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

  We walk hand in hand back to the hotel in a comfortable silence. I think he’s about all talked out and I know that I’m not about to give anything else up for tonight. I stop briefly and reach up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He turns his head to me and smiles.

  “What was that for?”

  “For tonight. Thank you for dinner. You were right, it was absolutely fantastic. The best food I’ve ever had.”

  He leans in close. “Just wait until I cook for you back at my flat.”

  “You cook?” I say with a surprised tone. He laughs and kisses the end of my nose.

  “Why yes, I cook. Don’t you?”

  I laugh and shake my head. “Does Macaroni and Cheese count?”

  He barks out a loud laugh, drawing the attention of a few passing girls. They giggle as we pass them, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he drapes his arm around my shoulders again as we c
ontinue our walk.

  “That barely counts as food Tessa. Before you leave, I will cook for you.”

  My heart skips a beat as I imagine sitting around his apartment, being in his space as he prepares a lavish meal for me. Okay, not quite lavish but something more than cereal. The possibility of invading his personal space has me giddy once again.

  “I would love that Andrew.”

  We walk into the quiet lobby of my hotel, still hand in hand, still silent and yet still communicating with each other. I’ve never met someone where I can have a quiet exchange and still understand everything. Body cues, the way our eyes stay locked on each other, simple caresses and accidental touches, all of it is a form of communication between us. Each of them let the other know what we’re thinking and feeling, our wants and desires without needing to give it a voice. And in that particular connection there’s something else that lies beneath, something larger than the both of us and am afraid to confront it.

  Andrew holds me close until we reach my door. The ever present heat in his eyes burns through another layer of my resolve as I snake my arms around his neck, pulling him into me. Our mouths descend upon each other, nipping and sucking, tasting and savoring at the same time. He presses me against the door and swallows my moans as I feel his hips roll into mine. The air around us heats up and I swear there are fireworks going off somewhere in the distance.

  We break away from each other, both breathless and resting our foreheads together. He tilts his head, pressing his lips against my ear before whispering in the seductive, quiet voice that I love.

  “Have breakfast with me again? I want to spend as much time with you as possible before we meet everyone else.”

  My panting breaths bounce back against my face from the collar of his shirt. I press my lips against his warm skin, letting him feel my smile rather than see it.

  “Yes, breakfast would be fantastic. What time?”

  He pulls my head back to look into my eyes. “Nine. I’ll come get you.”