“You think what happened was an accident? Some kind of error?”
“We jumped in without considering our actions.” She swallowed. “Both of us.”
“We weren’t being rash,” he countered. “We were finally being honest.”
The confidence rimming his words put a bee’s nest of anxiety in her belly. True, they shared a natural chemistry. It was more volatile than she’d imagined.
Philip studied her with hooded eyes. “I should’ve made sure I had the go-ahead before I kissed you,” he offered, clearly aware of her misgivings. “We were having a good time, and you seemed open to the idea. So I went for it. I should’ve asked first. Or waited for you to make the first move. You would’ve—eventually.”
She wondered if he was right. “You’re awfully confident,” she sputtered.
“Just honest.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug that belied the serious look on his face.
“Philip, I never would’ve approached you.” Not quite true. The possibility that he knew her better than she knew herself was upsetting. “Not in the way you’re implying.”
“You’re scared,” he murmured, and the slow, steady way he kept his eyes locked on her made her breathless.
The statement’s accuracy put a lump in her throat. As did the air growing charged between them. It seemed the unseen atoms colliding in the room carried a special chemistry, one capable of shrinking the physical space between them. Most of all, she was scared of the desire urging her to throw caution aside and let Philip take her into his arms.
All of which seemed transparent when he said, “Jada, some things can’t be contained. You can only ignore them for so long. One way or another, we were going to end up at this point. It doesn’t matter if you’re ready. We’re here now. We have to decide what to do.”
“I don’t want to start something I can’t control,” she admitted. “What we’ve stirred up . . . it’s intense.”
Her honesty eased the tension glossing his features. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” A sweet agony crossed his face. “I’ve been taking cold showers for days.”
“Me too.”
“Yeah? Good to hear I’m not the only one.”
“Please. You know you’re not the only one.”
“Still, it’s nice to know I’m getting under your skin.” He dragged his attention from her, took a deep breath. When he’d regained his composure, he brought his darkening eyes back to hers, adding, “No one is in the driver’s seat in a relationship like ours. We’re leaving the starting gate with lots of emotion built in. All the feelings we’ve suppressed, the attraction we pretended we didn’t feel. There’s nothing casual about what we feel for each other. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t press forward and see where this leads.”
Needing to be clear, she rephrased the statement. “I don’t want to start something I won’t have the ability to stop.”
The shadow of a grin toyed with the corners of his mouth. “Who says we’ll have to stop?”
She couldn’t decide if he was being difficult or didn’t understand. “Most relationships don’t go the distance. Two people date for a while, and it doesn’t work out. They discover they aren’t a good fit. Which is fine, as far as it goes.”
Her defeatist take on romance furrowed his brows. “We aren’t most people,” he said gruffly. To underline the point, he let his gaze slowly journey across her face and down her quivering body with the intensity of physical touch, his smoldering regard sparking fire across her skin. When he again caught her gaze, the yearning in his eyes carried straight to her heart. “Jada, I’ve wanted you for longer than I care to admit. I should’ve made my intentions clear somewhere along the line—a lot faster than I did. And you want me too,” he added, his lips quirking into a grin, “if what happened last week is any indication.”
Balancing on the tightrope of his honesty, Jada feared plummeting—into self-recrimination if she followed his lead, into regret if she didn’t. The quiet between them grew potent, and Philip waited for her decision with a trace of doubt skimming his features. She banished it when she decided to leap.
“I do want you.” Voicing the truth was easier than she’d anticipated. The fear wasn’t gone, but she felt lighter.
“Well, then. I know what I’m getting into. You do too.”
“Yes, we’re adults. We’re able to choose. But this isn’t just about us.” Needing to make him understand, she found the courage to step closer. The movement washed ruddy color through his strong features, but Philip stayed rooted by the desk. He seemed determined to give her all the space she required. “What we choose won’t affect only us. What about Fancy?” She nearly added the second reason for her hesitation—her friendship with his late wife—but her courage fled.
“Fancy will love the idea we’re together.”
“No, Philip. What if we change our minds in a few months? Decide this isn’t working out?”
“We aren’t telling her immediately.”
“She won’t know we’re dating?”
“Not until we both agree it’s time to tell her.”
“If this doesn’t work out, then what? I don’t want to lose my friendship with you.”
“You won’t—ever.”
He was making this too easy. “And Fancy?” she asked doubtfully. “I don’t want anything to alter the bond I’ve built with her. She’s important to me, Philip. Too often, kids get the shaft when adults screw up. It’s not fair.”
“Your confidence in our ability to make choices that won’t hurt my kid is inspiring,” he said dryly. Chuckling, he shook his head. “I figured there wasn’t much I didn’t know about you. I never would’ve guessed you’re short on faith in yourself—and me.”
“Give me a break,” she tossed back. “This is new terrain. I’m not sure of my footing.”
“You will be. In time.”
Jada released the breath she hadn’t realized strained in her lungs. The accompanying relief quelled a portion of her anxiety. A firm assurance—he’d given the matter thought. He’d taken into account how their actions might affect his impressionable daughter, and the future of their friendship.
Relenting, she asked, “What do you propose?”
“I’ll make dinner for you tonight. I’d wow you with my culinary gifts, but my repertoire is limited. Lucky for me, I already know you like spaghetti.”
“What about Fancy?”
“Linnie and Daniel are taking her out for pizza. We’ll have the house to ourselves until nine o’clock.” He approached, took her fingers loosely in his. The contact danced pleasure through her. “Are you in?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
His palm glided up her forearm. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he murmured, “unless you’d rather I didn’t.”
He didn’t wait for permission.
The moment her lips parted, Philip gathered her into his arms. Tipping her chin up, he steered her lips to his. The movement was slow, languid as he brushed his mouth across hers, testing the softness of her flesh, reveling in the sigh that rose from deep inside her. She let her eyes drift shut as he deepened the kiss, but not before she glimpsed the triumph registering on his features. He’d made a very male decision to shape events to his will. Her muscles felt loose beneath the power of his gentle lovemaking, and the exquisite care he took deepening the kiss, urging her to follow his movements, to respond in kind.
When he lifted his head, he brushed his nose across hers. “I’ll see you at seven,” he said.
A fluttery anticipation followed Jada as she parked in Philip’s driveway and started across the grass.
On the front stoop, she left her hand poised above the doorbell for a good three seconds. Ringing seemed too formal. Simply go inside? A first date presented a new quandary, one she’d never before encountered. On a normal visit, Fancy did the surveillance thing, stationing herself at the living room window to await the arrival of feminine company and good eats with her cherub’s face pressed to the glass.
Soft rock drifted from the living room. A jarring clatter broke through the soothing melody, and Jada nearly jumped out of her strappy heels. It seemed a fair guess the sound came from the kitchen. On the drowsy street, a boy bicycled past and disappeared into the approaching night.
Her cell phone rang.
Retreating down the steps, she tiptoed to the curb to take Linnie’s call. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Jada!” Exuberance laced her bestie’s voice. “Are you getting ready for your hot date?”
“Linnie, your sense of timing is more compromised than your hold on gravity. I’m at my date. Well, almost. I’m standing by the street, deciding if I should ring the doorbell or walk right in.” She cast a furtive glance at the house. Then she frowned. “And don’t call the date ‘hot.’ We’re testing the waters. That’s all.”
“Yeah, sure. You’re testing, Philip’s throwing the life jackets overboard and planning to push you into deep waters and dive in after . . . never mind. I guess everything Daniel told me won’t make you less nervous.” Linnie exhaled a blustery stream of air that made her sound asthmatic, only her lungs were in tip-top shape. “Send Philip a text, say you’ll be there in ten. Come over, okay?”
“No!” Jada tottered on her heels, thanks to either the life jacket remark or the woozy sensation that had been nesting in her belly since she’d agreed to the date. She decided not to analyze the cause of her dismay.
“Oh, c’mon. Daniel’s place is right around the corner. Three-minute drive, tops.”
“I’m not showing up late. Whatever you need to discuss, wait until tomorrow.”
“This is important. Like, best friend important. The kind of news you first share with your maid of honor.”
“I don’t care.”
“Hold on.” A series of scratchy noises accosted her ear, then Linnie came back on. “Want Daniel to send the text? He’ll tell Philip you’re running late. Doesn’t matter, by the way—your boy wonder pitched the first batch of sauce because he burned the meat. I suppose he’s nervous too. He didn’t get the steps right until Daniel FaceTimed him through the procedure. Guess we’re eating duplicate meals tonight.”
“I thought you and Daniel were taking Fancy out for pizza.” That was the plan.
“Nope, we’re eating in. Don’t worry about us. Just get over here ASAP.”
“Have I mentioned lately that you’re a lunatic?” Jada checked her bra straps, felt relief to discover they weren’t showing. “Do not have your fiancé text my date. Enjoy the girl time with Fancy, and try to talk to the munchkin on her level. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“I love you even when you get snippy,” Linnie said, dragging out the conversation with irritating zeal. “Relax, okay? You aren’t heading into one of those creepy coffee dates. You know, like if you connect online and aren’t sure if the guy is nice or weird? There’s really only so much you can tell about a potential lover if you’ve only shared a few e-mails or quickie phone calls.”
“Linnie, have you been drinking? I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait!”
Jada dunked her fingers into her bountiful curls, yanked out her hand before she caused damage. “WHAT?”
At the rumble of a car engine, she whirled around. Linnie hopped out of her Honda Accord.
“Don’t be mad.” Her jaw loosened. “Wow. You should clean up more often.”
Tapping her foot, Jada folded her arms.
“Okay, okay—no compliments. You’re too peeved to accept them. Your prerogative, totally. But you do look fantastic.” Feigning stealth as she tiptoed onto the curb, Linnie took a quick peek at the house. She looked ridiculous in Daniel’s extra-large sweatshirt and a pair of tights with a pattern of orange poppies woven into the fabric. In her haste to stop by, she’d forgotten to put on shoes. “Philip will stay in the kitchen, I swear. Daniel’s back on FaceTime, checking the results of baby brother’s menu.”
Jada wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. “You are a lunatic.” She poked her finger into Linnie’s ear, twirled. A punishment reserved for her bestie’s wackiest behavior in grade school, but old tricks were the best.
Giggling, Linnie stepped out of reach. “This will only take a sec.” She wagged her phone through the air like Eden’s first apple. “You won’t believe what I’ve found.”
Dinner was simple, but delicious.
In a bid to provide a romantic atmosphere, Philip served the spaghetti and a tossed salad on the deck, allowing them to enjoy the spring evening while they ate. In the center of the table, a candle flickered inside a balloon lamp. Votive candles were scattered on the railing and in the deck’s corners.
Jada twirled noodles around her fork, sighed as she took another bite. “This is wonderful.”
“Not too spicy? It’s Daniel’s recipe.”
“It’s perfect,” she murmured, secretly amused as she recalled Linnie’s disclosure about FaceTime, and Daniel’s intervention.
Philip’s wardrobe was limited, but there was no mistaking he’d wanted to look his best. The blue oxford shirt was ironed, his cologne deliciously spicy. He’d also managed a visit to the barber sometime that afternoon—the tousled locks that usually brushed his thick brows were neatly trimmed.
Making a good impression was mandatory for a first date, and Jada caught herself smiling. She’d also gone the distance, leaving work early to return home to shower, coil her curls, and select a gold A-line dress that was attractive, but not too sexy.
Philip reached for his wineglass, caught her amusement. “What is it?” he asked.
“Look at us. Both out of blue jeans, and smelling great.”
“You always smell great.”
“Hardly.” She lifted her fingers, sniffed. “I get tired of the scent of vanilla. Occupational hazard for a baker.”
“There are worse fates. Want to switch careers? You don’t spend all day working outdoors and come home smelling fresh as a daisy.”
“I know, Philip. I’ve seen the evidence,” she teased. “I can’t count how many times I’ve scrubbed out your bathtub before helping Fancy climb in.”
He raised his glass, as if for a toast. “The next time, let my kid do the honors. She gets free room and board. Nothing wrong with her pitching in.”
“Here’s a better idea: give the tub a quick scrub when you finish.”
“I will,” he promised.
He refilled her glass, and she murmured her thanks. The merlot was another surprise—rich and full-bodied, it glided down her throat. She loved a good merlot, and suspected he’d made a special trip to pick up a bottle.
Changing tack, she said, “Want some great news?”
Philip nodded. “Sure.”
“Linnie found the right dress.” She smiled as she recalled why Linnie had been so adamant about talking to her in front of Philip’s house. With the wedding only three weeks off, Jada had begun to fear they’d resort to repurposing one of the old frocks in Linnie’s closet. “Daniel took care of it. Or, more precisely, Carol Stillwell rode in to the rescue—with the help of her oldest daughter.”
Last summer, Carol Stillwell had contacted Daniel after she decided to divorce her husband, Duke. Always one to take the higher ground, Daniel had refused to handle the proceedings unless the couple came to an amicable agreement. Jada wasn’t sure how he’d managed it, but while directing the Stillwells to hash out their differences privately, Daniel convinced them to meet with a marriage counselor. In September, the couple reconciled.
The Stillwells’ oldest daughter was enrolled in Kent State’s School of Fashion.
“LuAnne helped Linnie find the right gown?” Philip asked.
“Daniel sent her Linnie’s measurements, and a bunch of photos from the historical record. I had no idea he kept all those memories tucked away in his closet.”
“The historical record?”
“From the Wayfair’s heyday, when Linnie was a teenager. Remember the galas her parents used to host w
hen they were in charge of the inn? Daniel must have a hundred photos of Linnie in all sorts of gowns. He sent a packet of them to LuAnne.” The details Linnie had shared were incredibly romantic, and Jada was suddenly aware that she couldn’t stop smiling. “It gets better.”
Relishing her excitement, Philip picked up her glass and held it toward her. “Drink.”
“Why, so you can change the subject? Philip, aren’t you curious how a fashion student got Linnie to pick a wedding gown?”
“I am interested, mostly because you’ve been worrying about her making a decision. Maybe I’m also hoping you’ll get a little tipsy.” The expression he wore went from playful to seductive with breathtaking speed. “As good a way as any to get past your practical nature.”
“Is that your best line?” If the responding jump in her pulse was any indication, the line was good enough.
“Does it need work? I’m out of practice.”
She took the glass, sipped daintily. “Absolutely.” She resumed her story. “Our dedicated fashion student showed the photos to one of her professors. Turns out, the man brought his wife to the Wayfair years ago, right after they married. One of the photos of Linnie dressed up that LuAnne showed him? He was standing in the background with his wife.”
Caught up now, Philip pushed his plate away. “You’re kidding.” He appeared genuinely surprised.
“The professor contacted the VP at Dillard’s in Cleveland. Together, they came up with ten wedding gowns suitable for Linnie’s stature and general build. The gowns were delivered to Daniel’s office this morning. When Linnie got home after work, she fell in love with the first dress she tried on.”
The story was the icing on a perfectly confected day. April first had begun as a prankster. Now the month seemed full of promise. With a wedding soon—and a changed relationship Jada hadn’t expected.
Contentment filled her as Philip asked, “Are you finished?” He frowned at her plate. “You didn’t eat much.”
The Season of Silver Linings Page 14