Chasing Love

by Natalie Ann

  “Did you hire a decorator?” she asked, bumping his shoulder.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I think you’re the one that likes simple.”

  “I’ve been told I’m boring most of my life. Simple goes hand in hand with that. I guess I’m not ready for a change like you were.”

  She didn’t want him to feel bad. “There is nothing wrong with being who you are, Troy. I like you that way.”

  They walked back to his kitchen and waited for the pizza to be delivered. “What way is that?”

  “Kind. Sweet. Caring. Someone who is honest. Who was always nice to me and didn’t push me away when maybe he wanted to.”

  “You were just a kid,” he said. “You were lonely and I knew it. There was no reason to be mean and push you along. Though we did do it a few times.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore,” she said standing up and moving into his personal space. “But I’m still lonely. How about you?”

  His eyes moved up and locked on hers. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Then I think we should do something about that, don’t you?”

  “I would say we already are,” he said.

  She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. Even lean into him, but she wasn’t going to push it. She was making more ground faster than she thought, and for once in her life, she was going to try to dial it back when she wanted to rush full speed ahead.

  “We are. So what’s the next step?” She’d let him decide this. Let him have some say.

  “Not to tell Brian.”

  8

  Push My Buttons

  “Why?” Meena asked.

  “Because I don’t know how he’ll react. It’s better to keep it between us for now,” he said. If she wasn’t willing to do this, to accept his stance, then maybe they would be going no further anyway.

  She grinned at him. “Is there something between us?” Her head was tilted, her lips curved from a grin to a smirk and there was something in her eyes that was sending a punch right to his gut, causing his head to race. “We haven’t even kissed yet. Maybe we’ve got no chemistry.”

  “Are you trying to push my buttons?” he asked. He hated when Sabrina did it to him, but with Meena it was almost natural. Like he didn’t expect any different. Or he’d be disappointed if she didn’t push it a bit.

  “There’s no fun in life if you don’t push now and again.”

  She was still standing really close to him, close enough that he could almost feel the heat radiating off her body.

  It wouldn’t take much to pull her in. To put his lips on hers. To feel her heart beating against his own.

  Instead he stepped back and heard her sigh. That was fine. There was time. “You still didn’t agree with me about not telling Brian.”

  “I didn’t know I had to agree, but in this case that’s fine. I’d like to not always keep it from him though.”

  “We can take it as it comes,” he said.

  “We can do that too. I’m pretty flexible.”

  “While we wait for the pizza, why don’t we just talk? Do you find being a business owner difficult?”

  “That’s a funny question, but then again, maybe not since you’re a business owner too. It has its ups and downs. I find it hard to be the responsible one, but I enjoy the profit,” she said.

  He laughed. “Sometimes the profit isn’t worth the stress.”

  She’d sat back down so he did the same. Her hand came up and she laid it on his. “What’s going on? You look troubled.”

  He was surprised she could see that. That someone he hadn’t really spent much time with in years—and never as an adult—could see when he was bothered, when the person he’d been living with for years never could. Or maybe Sabrina never cared. It was probably that.

  “I just wish it was easier. That I only had to deal with the actual men that did the work. Or could answer questions on that. It’s all these questions on sales, and insurance, employee complaints. You name it, I hear about it.”

  “The good with the bad, huh? I don’t have nearly the employees that you do, but my guess is you’ve got more staff to help you deal with that stuff. It’s just me and someone who does my books for the most part. I mean that’s it in terms of staff to help with the administrative part of it. I’m trying to learn all about the rest of it as I go.”

  “It sucks,” he said.

  “It sure does. So what’s so sucky that has you a little gloomy today? You know, a new hairstyle could cheer you up.”

  He laughed and flipped her hand over, threading their fingers together. She was so good for him, but he wasn’t about to admit it to her.

  “Not happening,” he said again. “My sales manager wants me to have the guys start selling service contracts when they’re out on calls.”

  “That’s a good idea. It’s the best time to do it. When the homeowner is paying for a repair and wishing maybe they did some maintenance to have prevented it. That’s what we do in the salon. Give someone the best style and then they want the product we used.”

  This time he sighed. “That’s what he said about timing. That it’s nothing more than scheduled routine maintenance. That if people had it booked, they’d appreciate knowing something was going to break before it actually does.”

  “I sure the hell would have loved to know my thermostat was going to kick the bucket instead of walking in on a Monday morning to discover it. There’s nothing worse than being reactive instead of proactive.”

  He saw her point but still didn’t feel right asking the guys to do it. “I wouldn’t want to do that if I was out on a call.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because I’m not a salesperson. When I worked in the field I was there to fix what their problem was and go onto the next call.”

  “Did you explain to the homeowners what was wrong when you were fixing it?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Did you ever explain that they might have something else to keep an eye on in case it acts up again?”

  “Yes.”

  “So what is the difference? You do the same thing. You talk about what you know the best. Then you slip it in and say ‘we’ve got a routine maintenance plan—or whatever you call it—to prevent emergencies and plan ahead.’”

  “When you say it like that, it’s not so bad.”

  “You’re making it out to be worse than it is. If the homeowner says no, then move on. It doesn’t have to be a pushy thing at all.”

  “I know that, but some will be pushy. I was thinking of an incentive rather than forcing people to do it. That way if someone is really uncomfortable, they could just bring it up and hand a brochure or something.”

  “You could do that too. Let people have a choice. As long as everyone is given some type of information, it should be enough. I think you’re worrying more about it than you should.”

  He laughed. “Probably.”

  “You’re making a decision based on how you would feel, but you’ve got to understand that not everyone will feel that way. Matter of fact, you might even be in the minority.”

  “So I’ve been told before.” It was amazing to him how she understood him so well.

  “For what?” she asked, frowning.

  “Come on, Meena. You’ve known me for a long time. I’m still the same guy that likes to go to bed at the same time each night, get up at six, even on the weekends.” He paused at her horrified face.

  “Okay. That’s just wrong. No one should get up that early on the weekends for no reason at all.”

  “Well, I’m not one for going out and partying like others.”

  She was shaking her head at him now. “Like other single men? You are who you are. I’m who I am. Maybe we can rub off on each other. Though getting up at six on Saturday or Sunday isn’t happening, sorry about that.”

  He laughed. “Dying my hair isn’t happening either.”

  “See? Common ground already. There are things each of
us won’t do.”

  “How about things we will do?” he asked.

  “Do you like movies?” she asked him.

  “I’ve been known to watch one now and again.”

  “Here in your house?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I think you should try to go to the movies and watch one. Feel like a kid again. Push the adult responsibility off of your shoulders and remember what it was like to make out in the back of a movie theater and ignore the chick flick that you were dragged to on your date.”

  “I could possibly be talked into that,” he said.

  “Good to know. Give me something you’d want me to do.”

  He thought for a second. “That’s a hard one. I don’t do much of anything and you’re probably used to not sitting still.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. I don’t stay home much because I don’t really like to cook. Nor do I know how. Most of my running around is for food or the business.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll give you a cooking lesson.”

  “You know how to cook?” she asked.

  “Good enough to not need to go out to eat several times a week or order in. I don’t eat a lot of sandwiches either, before you ask.”

  “All right then. We’ll go to the movies one night and then you’ll cook me dinner,” she said.

  “No, I’ll show you how to cook dinner. We’ll do it together.”

  She was still holding his hand and this time she leaned in and said, “Deal,” then laid a quick kiss on his lips.

  “Admit it,” he said. “Chemistry.”

  He held his breath waiting for her reply. “I’ll let you in on a secret, Troy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ve always known we’d have chemistry.”

  9

  Leading Her On

  Meena tried to be bold and throw out the chemistry comment, but the truth of it was, she’d known her whole life they’d have it. All that fluttering in her belly and tingles in her heart told her it was more than a crush. Lying in bed at night and staring at her ceiling thinking of walking down the aisle and seeing Troy there waiting for her...yeah, this wasn’t something that was fly by night.

  And when he kissed her before she left his house, she had all she could do not to swoon right on the spot.

  She’d heard about women having to fan themselves after a kiss or feeling lightheaded, but it’d never happened to her. If it was going to happen with anyone in her life, she was glad it was Troy.

  She never expected him to do what he did tonight. To make her wait all night long before he made a move. To be so sweet and talk about their businesses and lives like he was trying to get to know her. He’d known her her whole life, yet there he was acting like they just met.

  Then the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. They’d never known each other as adults like they had as kids.

  And he’d always been sweet. Always been considerate. She could see where some women wouldn’t find that attractive, but she always did. She’d never been into the rough around the edges type of guy.

  Which made her question why she spent the past several years dating men just the opposite of Troy. All it proved was that, for as outgoing and wild as everyone thought she was, she sure the heck wasn’t looking for that in a significant other.

  But there was Troy at the end of their date. All serious as he helped her put her jacket on, then pulled her in and put his lips on hers. Like he’d been waiting to do it all night, knowing she was on edge. Teasing her almost...leading her on.

  His lips were firm but gentle at the same time. His hand in her hair holding her head in place. His body moving in to press against hers. Or maybe that was her pressing against him.

  Didn’t matter because it all felt the same.

  Heat from her body telling her maybe she didn’t need to wear a jacket in the middle of the winter. His mouth opening and his tongue swooping in letting her know this kiss she’d been waiting for her whole life had been so worth it.

  But when he ended it way too soon and leaned back, then asked, “No problems with that?” she knew beyond a doubt her heart was head over heels in love with him.

  How many guys would do that? Would know you were throwing every sign out imaginable, even initiated the first date, and then still questioned if you were okay with a kiss?

  “Not only am I okay with it, I’ll be better if you did it again,” she said to him.

  He pulled her in slower that time and then showed her that being serious with a kiss—slow and methodical—was so much better than hurried and frantic.

  Now it was Valentine’s Day and they were going on their third date.

  He was cooking her dinner at his house and she suggested a movie. A movie during the middle of the week had to be so out of his comfort zone for the guy who went to bed and got up the same time every day.

  He needed to loosen up and she was hoping to be the one to help him.

  As for him teaching her how to cook. She hoped to hell she didn’t burn his house down if he actually thought she was going to participate.

  Of course maybe a little smoke damage would result in a new coat of paint and she could help him pick out something other than white or gray.

  She rang his doorbell at five, with him opening it up right away. “Hey,” he said, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek.

  “That’s a boring way to greet someone,” she said.

  He frowned at her. “How should I greet you?”

  She handed him the box from the bakery she had and hung her jacket up in the closet. Then she pulled the box away from him and placed it on a small table in the foyer. “This is how you greet someone on Valentine’s Day.”

  She fisted her hands in the front of his shirt and tugged him in quicker than a chipmunk taking off with a mouthful of food for winter storage and showed him that slow had a place, but so did rushed. So did hurried. And so did “man, I’ve been waiting to taste you all day so let me get my fill.”

  Her lips nudged his open and her tongue moved in, tasting him the way she’d been dreaming of for days. His hands went to her hips and pulled her in closer, his own mouth turning more aggressive.

  They stood there like that for a few minutes until she heard a beeping coming from the back of the house.

  He sighed and pulled back. “Saved by the bell,” he said.

  “Saved?” she asked. “That’s kind of mean.”

  “That came out wrong. Just that if we stayed here doing that too long we wouldn’t get to the rest of the night. I know how much you want to go see that movie.”

  The grouchy tone of his wasn’t lost on her. “You need to come out of your shell a bit, Troy. It will be good for you to not be in bed at the same time tonight.”

  “Who said I wouldn’t be in bed at the same time? The only difference is I’m going out after I cook dinner.”

  She laughed. “I stand corrected. But you aren’t eating alone tonight, so that is different, right?”

  She hoped so. She’d be awfully ticked off if she found out he was playing her. That he was seeing someone else. Or had been recently that she knew nothing about.

  “I haven’t cooked dinner for a woman since Sabrina,” he said quickly and walked away into his kitchen.

  She picked the bakery box up and followed him. “Sorry. I just figured maybe we should get that out in the open. I heard it wasn’t a good breakup. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s been almost two years. I’m over it,” he said.

  But she didn’t think so. Brian had told her Sabrina left a month or so after Troy’s father died and before he bought this house. She’d been hearing about Troy and Sabrina for years and holding her breath, praying there wasn’t going to be an announcement of an engagement.

  “Can I ask what happened? You’d been together for a long time, correct?”

  “A few years,” he said. “She wanted me to be someone I wasn’t. She held on for a ring I wasn’t
ready to give her. She wanted a lifestyle she thought I could provide her. Just a lot of things.”

  His back was to her now as he was pulling things out of his fridge. “I’m sorry for asking. That wasn’t right of me.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s not a secret by any means. I’m sure Brian told you a few things.”

  “Not everything.” She hadn’t wanted to ask back then. She was just so thrilled to know they’d broken up and decided it was time to come home. She’d been waiting for a sign for years to return, and to her, this was the sign flashing for all to see in neon colors as if on the Vegas strip at night.

  “What about you? I’m going to assume you aren’t seeing anyone else with the way you just kissed me.”

  She laughed. “No. Despite popular opinion, I don’t get around or I don’t date more than one person at a time. I haven’t been seriously involved with anyone in a few years.”

  Troy hoped he didn’t just offend her with that statement. “I don’t think you get around,” he argued.

  “I didn’t think you did, but I’ve heard it whispered before. I haven’t dated anyone since I’ve been back home. Too much to do with my business to even have time. I’m lucky I’ve got time to go out with friends now and again.”

  That surprised him to hear it. Though Brian hadn’t said much about Meena’s personal life in the past few years, he kind of always figured she was the life of the party and out every night of the week. She was like that as a kid.

  For as out of the box as her style was, she was always popular and always part of the “in crowd.” Whereas Troy was only marginally accepted into groups because of his friendship with Brian.

  “So what are you going to show me how to cook?” she asked as she watched him lay out ingredients.

  “You can chop up a salad. I want to see if you can do that without cutting yourself.”