Falling into Forever

by Phyllis Bourne

  Isaiah rose from his chair. She could feel his warm breath on her neck as she continued to make little tweaks here and there to his designs.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “You like the additions?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I do. I like them a lot. You have excellent taste, and a great eye. It was the first thing I picked up on when I walked into your house.”

  Sandra looked up from the sketch pad. She turned around in the chair and inclined her head toward the wall where they’d made love Halloween night. “It didn’t seem like you were thinking about my taste or great eye the first time you walked in here.”

  He nuzzled her neck and ran his tongue over the pulse point he’d set to racing. “Oh, I was thinking about your taste, all right.”

  Sandra squirmed in her chair. She wanted to do a lot more, but the aroma of roasting turkey was filling the house and she could not screw up this bird.

  She glanced at the oven timer. “Don’t start something we can’t finish for at least another half hour.”

  She went back to the sketchbook, and they continued to collaborate. Back in high school, he’d been focused on his painting, and she’d only cared about creating beautiful dresses. But this evening she discovered she liked them putting their heads together—the process as well as the results.

  Sandra looked up at the strong, masculine face she’d grown accustomed to seeing every night before she fell asleep. “We work well together, don’t we?” Her tone was soft and a bit sad as she allowed herself to dream of what might have been if they’d stayed together all those years ago.

  “Perfectly,” he replied.

  “Then why, Isaiah?” The question came out before she could stop it. “Why didn’t you stand up to your folks ten years ago? Why didn’t you stand up for us?”

  * * *

  The oven timer chimed.

  “You don’t have to answer that.” Sandra closed her eyes briefly. “I told you, I told myself, that I wouldn’t ask those kinds of questions. Just enjoy the now.”

  Isaiah watched as she placed the sketchbook on the breakfast bar and slid off the chair. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but his emotions were all over the place.

  He couldn’t pinpoint when it had occurred, but sometime between Halloween and tonight their fun and friendship had turned into something more. Feelings deeper and stronger than the ones they’d felt for each other in high school.

  He’d fallen in love with Sandra Woolcott all over again.

  She opened the oven door. Using pot holders, Isaiah lifted the heavy turkey from the oven and placed it on the stove.

  “Well, at least it looks good.” Sandra’s voice was filled with faux cheerfulness that didn’t reach her eyes.

  He grasped her arms lightly and turned her until she faced him. “You deserve an answer to the question you asked me.”

  With a shake of her head, Sandra touched her fingers to his lips to stop him. “It was a long time ago. I should have never brought it up.”

  Isaiah kissed her fingertips, before pulling her hand away. “I handled things the way I did back then for the same reason we’re doing what we’re doing here.” He gestured toward the perfectly browned turkey in the foil pan.

  Sandra blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  “I did it because I wanted to make my dad—a man who, despite his flaws, I love and respect—proud of me.”

  This time when Sandra blinked there were tears in her eyes. He cupped the side of her face and brushed one away with his thumb as he continued. “I was young and made the best decision I could at the time. Do I wish I’d handled it differently? Yes,” he said. “Especially now that I’ve had a glimpse at the life I could have had.”

  Sandra stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his in the sweetest of kisses.

  And Isaiah wondered if she instinctively knew how much he loved her.

  * * *

  Dinner that evening had been utter perfection. Sandra had to admit her turkey looked like it had been ripped from the pages of a glossy magazine.

  However, neither of them had had much of an appetite.

  “I think I’m just tired of turkey,” Isaiah had offered in way of explanation.

  Sandra had nodded in agreement as she’d pushed the food around her plate with her fork. Deep down, she knew the real reason for their lack of hunger.

  In the few weeks they’d been together, Isaiah had made the same mistake as her.

  He’d fallen in love.

  There was no need for him to say it. Sandra saw it in his eyes. Heard it in his voice. Felt it in his touch. Isaiah loved her, all right, and she loved him, too.

  But it changed absolutely nothing.

  As the owner of Swoon Couture, Sandra lived her dream every day. She wouldn’t destroy his by asking him to give up art school and stay in Wintersage. No matter how badly she wanted them to finally have a life together.

  Awkward, polite small talk filled the rest of the evening, and a cloak of silence followed them to the bedroom.

  Sandra sighed as she clung to her side of the bed, forgoing what had become her nightly routine of falling asleep in Isaiah’s arms.

  She yearned for the naked man in her bed. Her body having grown accustomed to the heat of his kisses, the protectiveness of his strong embrace.

  Sandra readjusted the pillow beneath her head. She longed to reach out to him, but dread stopped her.

  All she could think about was the day after Thanksgiving when she’d have to say goodbye, and everything they’d shared these past few weeks would be a memory.

  “You awake?” Isaiah’s deep voice fill the darkened room illuminated by a sliver of moonlight streaming through the window shutters.

  He smoothed a hand down the side of her bare hip, and she squeezed her eyes shut as if the gesture could stem the ripples of awareness his touch sent straight to her core.

  “Yes,” she whispered, unable to resist when he pulled her into his arms.

  Sandra rested her chin on his broad chest and stared up at his face. She studied it in the moonlight, etching every plane and angle into her brain. His hardness pressed against her belly and moisture pooled at the juncture between her thighs.

  Lifting her chin with his finger, Isaiah brushed his lips against hers. The gentle butterfly kiss belied the insistent throb of his erection.

  He threaded his fingers through her hair and cradled her head in his hand. But instead of the deeper kiss she expected, he pinned her with his gaze.

  “I came to your door Halloween night because I wanted you. More than I’ve ever wanted any other woman.” Both his tone and gaze intensified. “Tonight, I need you, Sandra. More than I’ve ever needed anyone in my life.”

  Sandra felt the barrier she’d futilely erected around her heart shatter. His words touched a part of her soul she hadn’t known existed until now. They filled her with an unabashed love that overwhelmed her trepidation over their dwindling time together.

  Isaiah crushed his mouth to hers, this kiss as hard and insistent as his cock. Sandra kissed him back, refusing to allow the sadness awaiting her once he left for London to keep her from enjoying the remaining nights with this man.

  For now, he was still her man.

  It was Isaiah who finally broke off the kiss.

  “Sandra, I lo—” he began, but she silenced him with a shake of her head.

  She didn’t want to hear the words. They would only make it more difficult when the time came for her to let him go.

  “Don’t tell me,” she said. “Show me.”

  Still holding her in his arms, Isaiah rolled over until she was beneath him. Sandra gasped, relishing the weight of his lean, muscular body pressing her into the mattress.

  Her fingers clung to his shoulders a
s she spread her legs, and he united them with one smooth thrust.

  “Isaiah,” she cried out, arching her back to meet the powerful stroke.

  Rising to his elbows, his body stilled, and he stared down at her. Sandra watched the moonlight dance over his strong, masculine features revealing more than words could convey.

  Never had she felt more cherished. So loved.

  Slowly, he began to move inside her. Their gazes remained locked as they found their rhythm. The playful sex that had been a hallmark of their friends-with-benefits relationship was absent tonight, replaced by something Sandra had never truly experienced until now, lovemaking.

  Isaiah increased the pace, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as his strokes grew harder, deeper. Sandra ground her hips against his, unable to control her body’s desperate, greedy response. The more he gave her, the more she wanted.

  And she couldn’t get enough of it. Of him.

  As if he read her thoughts, Isaiah leaned in and nuzzled her neck, but his cock remained on task. Never missing a single pounding beat.

  “How could I have ever believed I could get making love to you out of my system?” he rasped against the hollow of her throat.

  Lost in the wonder of the magic their sweat-slicked bodies created, Sandra could only moan in response as she began to tremble beneath him. She was close. Oh, so close.

  As in tune with her body as he was with her mind, Isaiah drove into her. His unrelenting pace rocked the big bed, sending the headboard crashing against the wall. Again and again.

  “Isaiah!” Sandra screamed as the spasms of an orgasm overtook her.

  He gripped her hips with his hands, pulling her even closer. Their escalating pants competed with the clamor of the headboard hitting the wall until moments later, when Isaiah exploded inside her.

  The sound of her name and his declaration of love echoing in her ears.

  Chapter 14

  Sandra stared at the empty space in her bed. It was Thanksgiving morning. Isaiah had quietly slipped out a half hour or so ago, thinking she was asleep, but she’d lain awake most of the night, relishing the feel of his embrace for one of the last times.

  Sandra skimmed her fingertips over the pillow that still bore his imprint. She couldn’t think about how much she’d miss him. There would be plenty of time for that tomorrow, when he left for London.

  Right now, she had to focus on their families showing up on her doorstep this afternoon. Some of them anticipating a holiday feast and others expecting a disaster.

  Sandra exhaled and threw back the covers.

  “Don’t get up.”

  Sandra looked up to see Isaiah standing at the bedroom door bearing coffee and a familiar purple box with the bakery’s logo. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him return.

  She inhaled the coffee, before taking a sip.

  “I figured you could use a treat before our families descend on us today.” He sat next to her on the bed and unearthed a cinnamon roll from the bag.

  Sandra nodded her thanks. She bit into the cinnamon roll. As with all of Carrie’s bakery treats, it was delicious, but this morning it didn’t elicit Sandra’s usual moans of delight.

  All she could think about was tomorrow being their last morning together.

  Stay.

  Sandra swallowed the word on the tip of her tongue with another bite of the cinnamon roll.

  “You didn’t get one for yourself?” she asked, knowing Isaiah loved the bakery’s cupcakes and cinnamon rolls almost as much as she did.

  “I ate it on the way back here.” The corner of his mouth tugged into a half smile that would have been a full-on laugh a few days ago. Before they’d both realized they were friends who had fallen in love.

  Sandra polished off the roll, and then quickly showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater. Thanks to the decorations she and Isaiah had picked up earlier, and autumn floral arrangements from Vicki, her home had a warm and festive atmosphere.

  She checked the dining table, which she’d set for nine last night, smoothing a hand over the orange tablecloth. She’d placed Vicki’s stunning arrangements in the living room and created her own centerpiece using fresh green pears and amber votive candles, which she would light just before serving dinner.

  “You ready to get started?” Isaiah pushed up the sleeves of his black sweater, and as always, she was immediately drawn to the corded muscle of his forearms. “What can I do?”

  Sandra tied on her apron. “You can’t help me. I have to cook every morsel with my own hands.”

  “I know, but nothing in the terms of your wager says I can’t pull the ingredients from the fridge and cabinets or read the recipes aloud.”

  Sandra smiled up at his eager face, and Vicki’s words came back to her yet again. “A man who’s truly your Prince Charming won’t divert you from your goals. He’ll want to be there to cheer you on...”

  Sandra closed her eyes briefly to pull herself together and get focused.

  A beep sounded from her purse, which was hanging off the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Figuring it was a good-luck text from either Vicki or Janelle, she went to retrieve her phone, grateful for the distraction.

  Sandra glanced at the missed-call alert on the screen, but it wasn’t from her friends, after all.

  “Everything okay?” Isaiah asked, after she finished listening to the message.

  Stunned, Sandra looked up at him. “The governor-elect’s wife called late last night.” She grinned as the news from the phone call sank in. “She picked my gown to wear to the inaugural ball!”

  Isaiah let out a whoop, picked Sandra up and spun her around. “I knew it. I just knew she’d pick yours,” he said. “That orange silk gown was...”

  “Amazing,” Sandra finished.

  They stared at each other a moment, before they both burst into laughter at the word he’d used initially to describe the gown, and then used repeatedly to describe the steamy sex they’d had that night.

  It was their first light moment in two days, ever since they’d realized they were in love.

  “She asked that I call her as soon as I got the message,” Sandra said.

  “On Thanksgiving?”

  Sandra shrugged. “That’s what she said.”

  Moments later, Sandra beamed as the governor-elect’s wife praised her design.

  “The other designers presented me with designs of black dresses that, frankly, all seemed to look alike,” she said. “So when I saw yours—that gorgeous orange, and it’s just my style—I knew it was the one.”

  The woman went on to apologize for not letting her know sooner. “I’ve simply been swamped since my husband was elected. It’s turned our whole lives upside down, but in a good way.”

  Sandra thought she was about to end the call, but she continued, “I have a favor to ask of you. My husband and I have been invited to a state dinner at the White House. I’d like you to design a gown for me in one of the commonwealth’s official colors, either blue or cranberry.”

  “The White House,” Sandra gasped. Even better than the statewide exposure of the gown for the inaugural ball, this one would put Swoon Couture in the national, maybe even international, spotlight.

  The governor-elect’s wife laughed. “That was exactly my reaction when the First Lady called me yesterday afternoon.”

  “I’d be honored to design your gown.”

  “Well...” The woman on the other end of the line hesitated. “You haven’t heard the rest of it yet.”

  Sandra’s mouth dropped open as she heard the date of the state dinner. “B-but that’s the weekend after next.”

  “Exactly, and since we’re leaving the country early tomorrow morning for a few days, I’d need to see the design no later than this evenin
g, which I know is a terrible imposition considering it’s the holiday.”

  Sandra glanced up at Isaiah, who was pulling spices from the cupboards and arranging them on the black granite countertop. His iPod earbuds were crammed into his ears, and he bobbed his head in time with music only he could hear.

  They’d both worked so hard to help her win this wager with her father. She knew all the recipes by heart, and the night before last she’d made the perfect turkey. The leftovers were in the refrigerator, next to the turkey she was to prepare for their families today.

  Then she thought about her father. He’d never know that she could have pulled this dinner off. However, as his daughter, she possessed the same work ethic as Stuart Woolcott and knew what she had to do.

  “I’ll get to work on it right away,” she said. “I’ll email the proposed designs to you later today.”

  Ending the call, Sandra walked into the kitchen and touched a hand to Isaiah’s shoulder. He pulled off the earbuds and smiled down at her. “So how’d it go?”

  Sandra launched into a blow-by-blow of the conversation. She watched his face for signs of disappointment, but instead found understanding.

  Then he broke out in a grin. “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?”

  His question surprised her.

  “But I thought you’d be annoyed. All the trouble you went through.” Then her mind raced ahead to contacting everyone to inform them—at the last minute on Thanksgiving—that dinner was canceled. “I’d better get busy calling our folks and Jordan to let them know dinner is off, so I can get to my studio.”

  Isaiah grasped her shoulders and kissed her soundly. “I’ll handle everything with our families. You just get to work.”

  “They’ll probably all be relieved.”

  Sandra quickly gathered her things. When she got to her front door, he was standing there holding out her coat for her, and she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

  “Good luck,” he said.