When It Holds You

by Nicki Elson

  While they drank and goofed off around the arcade, he thought about how much fun it would’ve been to hang out with her more in college. He’d always thought of her as “Trish’s friend” back then rather than as his own. He realized now that he’d missed out.

  Between every round of beer, JoAnne ordered a glass of water. Cliff supposed it helped with her resolution to drink more responsibly. He followed suit, but still managed to be pleasantly buzzed by the time they left the bar. The increasing frequency of Jo’s giggles and the affectionate way she leaned into him as they waited for a car told him she was feeling the same.

  Cliff asked the driver to take them to her place and wait while he walked her to the door. He threaded his fingers through hers as they moved up the sidewalk to the big house where she lived. “I had fun tonight.”

  “Me, too.” She lifted onto the small step in front of the door and turned to face him, keeping him on the sidewalk so that she was closer to his height. She pulled her hand away from his and placed it on his shoulder. “I have to admit something. Last weekend, when you took me out on the pity date, I honestly expected it would end with mutual aversion and dislike.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Then why did you show up?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head, her pale gray eyes studying him. “But I certainly didn’t expect this.”

  “Expect what?” Cliff teased, sliding his hands under her jacket to her sides. Her waist curved above the tight waistband of her jeans, putting him in a mood to peel them off of her. “This?” He pulled her close and touched his mouth lightly to hers.

  When he pulled back, the shy, happy twitch of her lips was more than he could resist. He laid his mouth back on hers in a more insistent kiss. She ran her hands up the sides of his neck and into his hair as she pressed into him.

  She tasted like beer mixed with a sweetness he soon identified as her lip gloss. He was brought back to that night at the hotel. His hands left her waist to explore upward, and his mouth broke from hers to trail down the side of her throat. “Should I tell the driver to hit it?” he asked between nibbles.

  “Yes. No!” Jo clutched the back of his hair and pulled his head a few inches away. Her breath fell hot and heavy upon his face. “Too many roommates around this weekend.”

  She’d explained earlier that she lived with five other women. Her roommates were all flight attendants, and the one who owned the two-flat gave Jo a break on rent to watch over the place during their frequent travels.

  Cliff groaned.

  Jo gave him a sympathetic pout while she ran her fingers along the side of his face. “Also…it’s too soon for me to be inviting you in. Okay?”

  “You don’t have to ask my permission to set your own limits.” He gave her a small peck on the lips to let her know he was truly okay with it. “But is it safe to assume you’d like to keep seeing each other?”

  “I can’t believe it, but…yeah.”

  Chapter 15

  DURING THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, text messages between Cliff and Jo multiplied. Since she worked most weekends and Cliff put in long hours Monday through Friday, syncing their schedules proved a challenge. They set Castleabra aside since they preferred getting together in person rather than online whenever they both happened to be free.

  Every time Cliff saw Jo, he liked her more. As the relationship moved forward, he stopped kicking himself for having misjudged her before. Sometimes people didn’t click until they were ready for it. He’d probably been right to assess them as a mismatch eight years ago, maybe even a year ago, but now it just felt right.

  On one of Jo’s rare Saturdays off, they strolled together hand-in-hand on an overcast April day. They’d just visited a manga exhibit at Columbia College and moved alongside the bustling traffic of Congress Parkway toward Grant Park, discussing their favorite animes, mangas, and comics.

  “How could you have been such a nerd all this time without me knowing?” Cliff asked.

  “I wasn’t always. I did the video games as a kid because of my brothers, but I’ve only discovered the joys of modern gaming, sci-fi, and anime in the last few years.”

  “Yeah? How?”

  Jo pursed her lips in thought as they stepped onto the crushed gravel at the park. The gardens were in full spring bloom. Pink petals fluttered against lush, bright green foliage, releasing a sweet, effervescent scent.

  “I guess it all flows from when I started posting my art online. I used to be a lot more social at the site, and some of the people I met there turned me on to shows and games they thought I’d enjoy. From there, I began to explore on my own. It was like discovering a whole new world.”

  Cliff smiled as they approached the arching spray of Buckingham Fountain. A breeze sent a light mist to the side of the enormous circular pool, so Cliff pulled on Jo’s hand, giving the fountain a wider berth. “And now you’ve got your very own planet, Claire.”

  She gave him a sly glance and squeezed his hand. “I like when you call me that.”

  The jet at the center of the fountain burst, sending a towering spire into the air. Carried on the wind, tiny pellets of water drizzled over them. Instead of screaming and running away like dozens of people around them, Jo let out a happy squeal and held out her hands to the side, turning her smiling face upward.

  Cliff stepped back, but only so he could take more of her in. She had part of her hair pulled back into a small clip at the back of her head; the rest hung loosely just past her shoulders. Her pale blue button-down top darkened as water plastered it against her skin. The buttons across her chest strained, causing the fabric to gape, giving Cliff a peek at the wondrous flesh that lay beneath.

  With a final gasp, the spire dropped, bidding adieu with a splat at the pool’s surface. Jo blinked, tilting her head forward. Thin brown streaks from her mascara trailed down her cheeks.

  Cliff moved in close, curving his fingers at either side of her face and wiping the streaks with his thumbs. He touched a soft kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen on commercials that they make this stuff waterproof now.”

  Jo knocked his hand away as she brought her own up to wipe a smudge across her face.

  “You’re making it worse,” Cliff laughed.

  When he reached forward to help her, she stepped back, jerking her other hand up to cover her face. She couldn’t have drawn away from him any faster. The force of her abrupt movement stretched the closure of her shirt to its last limit, and the button between her breasts popped off.

  “Shit!” Jo threw a hand in front of her to clutch the edges of her gaping shirt together.

  Cliff wanted to laugh again, harder, but the dismay in Jo’s expression stopped him. “Don’t worry about it. We’re in the midst of a shopping mecca. We’ll just go and get you a new shirt. One that fits better.”

  “What?” Her embarrassment snapped away as she said it, replaced by indignation. She stared at him through narrowed eyes.

  Getting acquainted from behind the safety of their computer screens had inspired an unfiltered frankness from the very beginning, and Cliff appreciated how completely open and honest he and Jo could be with each other. But he well knew that critiquing the way a woman dressed crossed a line into dangerous territory. He couldn’t take back what he’d already said, so he thought it would be better to explain rather than pretend it hadn’t slipped out.

  He held his hands in front of him, palms out, as if they could ooze some sort of power to calm her. “That came out wrong. I just meant that you have a beautiful body and you should be proud of that instead of stuffing yourself into clothes that are too tight.”

  JoJo’s eyes and mouth flew wide open at the tactless babble pouring through the offensive hole in Cliff’s head.

  While his brain cells scrambled for a way to make her understand, he lunged forward and curved his fingers around the backs of her arms, holding her there. “Because you’re the perfect size!”

  His Hail Mary seemed to douse her flames, though the
tightness with which she now pressed her lips together told him he needed to tread lightly on his way to the end zone.

  “Your clothes should accentuate that perfection, not detract from it.” He flicked his gaze to the other side of the fountain, searching for what to say next. He spied a bridal party posing for pictures across the way. This was good—a group of bridesmaids invariably provided a prime example of what he was so ineptly trying to tell her.

  “Come with me.” He grabbed Jo’s hand and moved toward the other side of the fountain, not giving her a chance to protest.

  When they stood several yards back from the bridal party, he slid his hand to the small of her back, turning her to face the group. After a few seconds of scanning the row of eight women wearing identical one-shouldered dresses in a bold raspberry hue, he found the two he wanted.

  From his position behind Jo, he said in a low voice, “Look at the bridesmaid all the way at the end and the one two spots away from the bride.” He paused for a moment, giving her time to locate them. “Would you say they’re roughly the same body type?”

  “Yes.” She kept her eyes on the women.

  “And which one, in your opinion, looks better in that dress.”

  The girl closer to the bride was approximately one stitch away from busting through the shimmery fabric around her. The tight pull of the dress outlined and highlighted the roll above the edge of her Spanx. The flesh below her exposed shoulder bulged over the top of the dress. In contrast, the dress on the girl at the end of the row hugged her curves without suffocating them. Every line on her was smooth, not strained.

  Jo stared forward. Cliff dared a peek around the side of her face to see that her eyes had moved from the wedding party toward something beyond. Her mouth turned down at the corners. “Am I a project for you? Your Eliza Doolittle?”

  The importance of whatever point he’d been attempting to make crumbled away at the dejection in her voice. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her hair, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He was relieved when she didn’t resist his hold. “You’re not a project. I’m an idiot. You’re great, just as you are.”

  “Then what the hell was that about?”

  “It’s about me sticking my giant foot in my mouth. I didn’t mean to offend you. Please tell me I didn’t just ruin everything. Can you forget I even said it?”

  “Fat chance of that—no pun intended.”

  “I wasn’t calling you fat!”

  JoJo shifted in his arms and put her fingers to his mouth to shut him up. “Drop it. Please?”

  Cliff nodded and pressed his lips against her fingertips. Her mouth twitched into a small smile, and that’s the way he vowed to keep it for the rest of the day.

  She shook her head, keeping her eyes locked onto his. “Why am I not fixing to punch you right now?”

  He dropped his face so he could rest his forehead against hers and mumbled through her fingers. “’Cuz ya kinda dig me.”

  She laughed, and then she dropped her hand and pushed her lips onto his in a long, sweet kiss. Something in her touch betrayed far more vulnerability than he’d ever expected of her.

  Jo stepped out the front door of her greystone while Cliff was still a few steps away. Her hair was pulled up into a spiky twist, and her eye makeup was perfection, topped by eyebrows waxed to a sleek arch. He’d asked her to be his plus-one at the Rock This Town spring gala. It was held on a Thursday evening, and the event was semi-formal.

  “I thought it was girl code to make the guy wait around while you finish getting ready,” he teased. He’d only ever been inside her apartment once.

  “Not when the girl lives in a house full of gorgeous flight attendants who might try to steal the guy away.”

  “I doubt any of them could look as gorgeous as you.” He left his compliment at that. It was his first time seeing her since his blunder at Buckingham Fountain, and he didn’t want to venture too far into territory that’d gotten him in trouble before.

  She really did look fantastic. Her navy-blue shift dress with a floral lace overlay hugged the lush curves of her hips and chest without drawing blatant attention. Her cleavage was covered, and the dress dropped to a respectable mid-thigh. She may not have wanted his advice, but she’d certainly taken it.

  The waning sunlight caught on her hair, illuminating glints of cinnamon. “Is your hair red?” Cliff asked.

  “A little bit. I told you I like it when you call me Claire.” The fabric around his groin tightened as her eyes traveled from his polished shoes up the length of his narrow-cut, light gray suit. “You look quite dapper yourself, sir.”

  “Are you happy now that I checked in with you on colors?” Earlier in the week she’d mocked him with a “What, is this prom?” for asking what color she planned to wear so he could coordinate his suit.

  She lifted on tiptoes and gave him a light peck on the lips.

  “It didn’t feel right to honk and make you run out to the car, but I couldn’t find a close parking spot, so now we’ll have to walk a couple of blocks.” He eyed her three-inch, open-toed heels on the uneven sidewalk.

  “Such are the woes of a gentleman in the city.” She pinched his cheek.

  During the drive to Evanston, they filled each other in on anything interesting that had happened during their weeks. They were excited about the announcement of a new expansion coming out for an RPG they both played, but they didn’t broach the subject of joining the same party in the game. Cliff was part of her real life now, and he knew she went to the games for escape.

  For a second, he wondered if she was hooking up with other guys in the virtual world. Then he wondered if that should bother him—it wasn’t real, after all. He’d certainly had a non-player fling or two while he’d been dating someone. But then he thought of how PlanetClaire and Loinerd had gone from virtual to reality. He pushed that train of thought out of his head. He didn’t want to think about Claire—or Jo—with other guys, virtual or not.

  They arrived in the North Shore suburb, where the silvers, grays, and whites of the elegant ballroom gave the space a surreal feel. Long branches draped in pearls and crystals rose from tall glass vases at the center of each table, transforming the room into an enchanted forest. The theme of the party was “Every Kid’s Dream.”

  Cliff and Jo found their table, and he introduced her to his River South colleagues and their dates.

  “Are you the reason he’s been so smiley lately?” Karen asked, tilting her head as she examined Jo. Without waiting for an answer, she added, “There are a few things you should know about him.”

  Cliff clamped a protective hand at Jo’s waist. “No way, Keefer. We’re off the clock. Any ball-busting you do here will be viewed as antagonistic. You can’t file it under ‘mentoring’ like you do at the office.”

  “You’re lucky you’re cute, Walsh.”

  He smiled as he followed his date toward the silent-auction tables. Together, they scanned the gift baskets—a riot of color and cellophane in themes from “tropical getaway” to “golf pro for a day.” When they came to a basket filled with chocolate body paint and edible undies, Jo’s lips curled into a wicked grin. She stepped forward and scrawled her assigned number onto the bid sheet.

  Cliff slid his hands over her hips and stepped close enough behind to let her feel the bulge of excitement caused by her bid. “Are you trying to torture me?” He let his voice deepen to a sultry growl.

  Over the past weeks, he hadn’t pushed her about sex, assuming she’d let him know when it was no longer “too soon.” He took her interest in the sensual basket as a cue that it was safe to express his enthusiasm for getting naked with her again.

  She leaned slightly forward so she could turn her face sideways and bat her innocent eyelashes at him. “This stuff’ll keep for, like, twenty years.”

  “Yeah, but I won’t.” He tickled her sides.

  She laughed, wriggling out of his grip.

  On their way back to their t
able, Cliff spotted Patty Lelen across the way. If it wasn’t for the energetic way her hands swooped and flailed as she talked, he might not have recognized her. Her typically wild hair had been molded into smooth, flowing pin curls. She wore a long, black dress with peek-a-boo shoulders. The socializing crowd shifted, pushing her out of his line of vision. He didn’t see her again until he and everyone else sat for dinner. After being introduced, she stood to give a slideshow presentation of the work being done by Rock This Town.

  Cliff didn’t get a chance to speak to her until dinner ended and dancing commenced. He detoured Jo from the desert table, guiding her to Patty.

  “Cliff!” Patty’s eyes opened wide, and she pulled him into a warm hug. “I was beginning to wonder if you were hiding from me.”

  “You’re the woman of the evening—I didn’t think you’d have time for a peon like me.”

  “Oh, hush,” Patty said, pulling back but leaving an affectionate hand on his lapel. Up close, he noticed that her thick makeup hid her freckles.

  Cliff turned, sliding his hand to the small of Jo’s back and pulling her forward. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, JoAnne.”

  Patty dropped her hand from Cliff’s chest and took a half-step back as she reached to shake Jo’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Patty is the brains, blood, sweat, and tears behind Rock This Town,” Cliff explained.

  “It sounds like a great organization,” Jo said. “Do you ever have any volunteer opportunities?”

  “Sure do.” Patty’s hand slipped down the side of her dress at her hips, and she shook her head. “Shoot. No pockets in this thing. I wanted to give you a card so you could check out the website. There should be a table of materials by the entrance. Please grab a brochure on your way out.”

  “I will.” Jo smiled and nodded.

  “Speaking of pockets,” Patty said, returning her attention to Cliff. “Did you hear my deep-pockets investor fell through?”