by Meg Jolie
“He’s bringing the chips and salsa. I’m making margaritas.” She drug out ‘margaritas’, each syllable sounding like its own word. “Stay, Alex. It’s practically a party and the more the merrier.”
“Okay, when you put it that way,” he said with a laugh. “I mean, if it’s okay with you? I just really didn’t want to intrude,” he added on as his gaze swung back to me.
I didn’t bother to fight down my smile. “It is most definitely okay with me. Come on in.”
“I’ll go find a vase for those,” Claire said as she took the flowers from my hand. She took off down the hallway, toward the storage closet.
Alex followed me into the kitchen. I washed my hands and then picked up where I’d left off, slicing the olives to sprinkle on the pizza.
“It smells amazing. Again,” he said. “You do know I don’t just show up hoping you’ll feed me, right?”
I looked at him through lowered lashes as I continued to work. “Why do you keep showing up then?”
A laugh erupted from his mouth. “Okay. You got me. I guess,” he paused as he shifted from foot to foot, “I just wanted to see you. Since I finished the roof, I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”
I stopped slicing to look at him. My heart sputtered, waiting to hear what else he had to say.
“I would like to see more of you,” he finally added on.
I smiled, relieved and excited, even as I wondered if I should be feeling this way so soon. I hadn’t flat out asked him but I was assuming after our trip to the state park that there was no wife, no kids, no white picket fence.
“Did my girl tell you she’s sticking around?” Claire asked as she walked into the kitchen. The flowers, now in a vase, were held out in front of her. She set them in the middle of the kitchen table
Alex’s eyes shot back to me. They crinkled in the corners as a satisfied look settled onto his face. I glanced at Claire who was off to his side, adjusting the flower arrangement. Claire winked at me, letting me know she’d caught the look as well.
“She didn’t tell me,” he said, his eyes on me. “But I’m glad to hear it.”
“Me, too,” Claire said. “Oh, I think I hear Sean driving up.” She made her way out of the kitchen again.
“You know,” Alex said. “I think you need to let me pay you back. Let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” I replied, already shaking my head as I tried to think of a polite way to decline. Until that moment, dating Alex had been nothing more than a fantasy, wishful thinking. Daydreaming about dating him had not been a reality. Now the question was out there and my confused heart wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.
“Would Sunday be better?” he asked.
“No, not really,” I honestly replied. “It’s just, I don’t think so.” I couldn’t think of a reason I wanted to share so I didn’t give him one.
“What? You let me bum cookies off of you but I’m not good enough to be seen in public with? I see how you are,” he joked but he looked completely disappointed.
Despite myself, I felt disappointed. I had come here to move on. Didn’t that mean meeting someone new? But wasn’t it too early for that? My head was telling me that it should feel too early. And yet…
“It’s just,” I motioned to my face, realizing I did have a logical excuse, “I’m feeling a little self-conscious. I haven’t really left the house yet.”
“Oh,” he said, his smile brightening. “If that’s all it is, I’ve got a great solution. Let me cook you dinner. We can have a night in. We can rent a movie or something. Does seven o ’clock tomorrow night work for you?”
“Um,” I pulled my shoulders up in an exaggerated shrug while I thought it over. Why not? I asked myself. I mean, really, why not? I was young. I was single. I was sure as hell female and he was one beautiful, thoughtful specimen of male. “Sure? Do you want me to bring anything?”
“You can bring something luscious for dessert,” he said, his tone low and teasing. He cocked his head to the side, as if realizing something. “I may or may not have meant that the way it sounded.”
“I wouldn’t have minded if you did.” Wow, where did that come from?
“Zoey Beckett…I like you already,” he said as he grinned at me.
*******
“He likes you,” Claire informed me. “I mean, like he really likes you.”
“Do you think?” I asked nervously. It was Saturday night. I was getting ready for my date. I was trying on my fourth outfit. Claire had already refused to let me wear jeans. She’d told me my shorts were too casual.
I had pulled out a dress but now that I was wearing it, it felt too…prim and proper. I stared at myself in the full length mirror on the back of the door. I was not happy with what I saw.
“He definitely likes you,” Claire said with a grin. “He could not stop checking you out. But not like, in a lecherous way. Just in an ‘I can’t keep my eyes off of her’ way.”
I laughed at that. Yes, he’d asked me out so I knew he had to be somewhat interested. While he’d been friendly the night before that was all he’d been. He and Sean had chatted like they were old pals. They’d both stayed pretty late. I’d walked him out to his truck and he’d done nothing more than given my shoulder a friendly squeeze. Although, I had to remind myself, last night wasn’t a date. Last night was just more of getting to know each other. It had been dinner with friends and really, nothing more.
“That dress…?” Claire said with a wrinkle of her nose. “It makes you look like you’re heading to church. Hang on. I’ll be right back.”
Moments later she returned with another dress. It had a black, fitted top with cap sleeves. The bottom had a black and white striped, knee-length, flared skirt. “Simple, yet flirty and fun,” she told me. “Try it on.”
I shimmied out of the floral print dress I had on and exchanged it for the one Claire held out to me. It wasn’t a surprise that it fit. Claire and I had always been the same size.
“It’s perfect,” Claire assured me.
“I like it, too. Thank you,” I said as I finished taking another long, critical look in the mirror.
“I’ve missed this!” Claire said with a little squeal. “Sharing clothes, staying up gossiping, just hanging out!” She bounced up from the edge of my bed where she’d been seated. “Have I told you how happy I am that you’re here?!”
She threw her arms around me in a strangling hug. I laughed as I hugged her back. I had missed this too. I’d missed it more than words could say.
When Claire released me, she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “We are never, never going to lose touch again.”
“No, we won’t,” I agreed.
The enormity of what I had done hit me then. I had really begun to move on. I had really taken the steps I needed to take to begin a new life. I was on the path to a better future for myself. While it was a positive feeling, it was overwhelming, too.
I could feel Claire’s gaze, burning into my back as I took in my reflection once more.
“You should be wearing a high-voltage smile,” she informed me. “Why aren’t you?”
I shrugged as I turned around to face Claire. “Do you think this is too soon? I mean, I just left Jason less than a week ago.”
“You realized a long time ago that your relationship wasn’t one worth having,” Claire carefully said. “So no, I don’t think this is too soon. In fact, I think this is long overdue.”
I nodded as I blew out a small breath of relief.
“As soon as you told me you met Alex, I told you I thought he was a nice guy. Now, after spending some time with him last night, I see that he’s an absolute doll.”
I smiled and I had to agree.
“I say, after the last few, hellish years you’ve had, you deserve something good to happen to you. And Alex? I think he might be as good as it gets,” Claire said with another huge smile. “Now, let’s get to work on your hair and make-up. I want that man to be wonder
ing what in the hell hit him when you walk through his door.”
Chapter 7
“You look—” He stopped himself, shook his head and motioned for me to come in.
Better?
Like you’re still a wreck?
So bad I’m glad we stayed in?
I was completely unsure of what he was going to say. My bruising had faded but it was still visible under the light layer of make-up that I wore. I self-consciously put my hand up to my cheek, touching the light mark as I followed him into the kitchen.
He moved toward me and pulled my hand away.
“You look beautiful. I mean, the last few days, I thought you looked great even with…” He motioned toward my face and cringed sympathetically. “But tonight, you look absolutely amazing.”
I felt myself blush. It had been ages since anyone had given me a compliment. Claire had insisted on doing my hair for me. She’d curled the ends but left it down, telling me it looked flirty and cute, just like the dress. It was the first time since I’d arrived in Grafton that I hadn’t had it in a sloppy ponytail. I hadn’t had make-up on once this past week either. Tonight, I went a little heavy on the eye make-up. I’d been told my eyes were my best feature. I wanted to make them stand out. The way Alex’s gaze appreciatively scoured over me made me think maybe I’d reached my desired effect.
“Thanks,” I said, fumbling a bit at the compliment. I held up the container in my hands. “Do you mind if I set this in the fridge?”
“Please,” he said as he went to the oven and peered inside. “I hope you like lasagna?”
“Of course,” I assured him after the dessert was tucked away. “Not to mention, I’m impressed.” Not that lasagna was hard to make, but it was time consuming and sometimes took some patience.
“Good,” he said with a grin. “I’m glad you like it. And I’m tempted to pretend I made it myself,” I let out a little laugh, “but that would be a lie. There’s this great little Italian restaurant in town. They make a few different meals, lasagna is one of them, that you can bring home and heat up yourself. So, yeah,” he said as he hung his head in mock shame, “I cheated. I was going to throw something together myself. But that’s an iffy endeavor and I didn’t want to ruin the night by taking a chance on that. I did make the salad on my own, washed and chopped the veggies. Forgive me?”
I put my hands on my hips, pretending that I had to mull it over. “Oh, I suppose. It smells too good to hold a grudge. But,” I said as I pointed a finger his way, “one of these days, you have to cook for me for real. You owe me a homemade meal.”
He nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Deal.”
“Do you need help with anything?”
He glanced around the kitchen. He had the table set, complete with wine glasses and a bottle of Chianti.
“I think I have everything.”
We made small talk as he finished his meal preparations. We chatted throughout dinner. Alex told me he’d lucked out on his house. The couple that had started building it forfeited on the construction loan. It went into foreclosure and Alex was able to nab it. He told me he spent the better part of one winter finishing it off himself. It wasn’t a huge house, just a two bedroom but from what I could tell everything looked topnotch.
After dinner, he dove into the chocolate torte I had brought for dessert. I tucked the remainder of it away in his refrigerator. Claire and I still had cookies left. We certainly did not need the torte.
I offered to help with dishes but he declined, simply rinsing them and setting them in the sink instead.
Eventually, we, along with our second bottle of Chianti, made it into the living room. He offered to let me choose a movie but instead, we just turned the television on. A reality show rerun was playing in the background as we continued to get to know one another.
“So, tell me about yourself,” I requested as I sank down in the sofa next to him. I was turned slightly so that I could face him.
He blew out a breath and made a contemplative face, as if wondering where to start. “Okay, I hope I don’t disappoint you. I’m kind of boring. I grew up here, my family is still here. I have two older sisters, both married, both still in town. I’ve got a business degree. I actually started working at Janssen’s right out of college.”
I gave him a questioning look, even though I was distracted by the feel of his thumb, rubbing so casually, circling my bare knee, over and over. The motion sent threads of longing through me. The type of longing I hadn’t felt in a while.
“It’s a car dealership in town,” he explained.
I nodded as I took another sip. I tried to imagine Alex as a car salesman and I just couldn’t conjure the visual.
“I hated it. I mean, hated it,” he said with a grimace. “I didn’t like the underhanded talk. I didn’t like trying to meet a quota set by someone else. I didn’t like being cooped up all day, waiting for someone to show up. I hated swooping in on people.”
I gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t think I’d like that either. I’d make a horrible salesperson.”
“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I did for sure. Anyhow, when I was in high school and then later, throughout college, I spent summers working for my uncle. He’s a general contractor that lives a few towns over. One day I got to thinking and I realized I was too young to be stuck in a job I disliked so much. I gave it an honest shot. I stuck it out for a year. It never got better and I was more miserable by the day. So, I decided to start up my own company. I’d done a lot of roofing over the years. I had the business know-how, to some extent. I haven’t regretted it at all. The money is better. Nothing beats being able to set your own pace, work your own hours, be your own boss. I’d still take a scorching roof over an air-conditioned office any day. During the winter months, I keep busy with carpentry work, small remodels, that kind of thing. That’s how I met Claire. We have connections to the same general contractor.”
I nodded. “Yeah, she mentioned that.”
“So how about you? What’s your story?” He leaned over to the coffee table where he filled his glass. “More?” he asked. He tilted the nearly empty bottle my way.
I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should. I’d already had plenty. My thoughts were beginning to fuzz around the edges. That’s probably exactly why I said, “Sure.” I’d be finishing off the bottle and in my tipsy state I didn’t think another half glass would make much of a difference.
I held the glass out to him. He topped it off, finishing off what was left of the wine. Then he gave me a look, letting me know he was waiting.
I rolled my bottom lip through my teeth as I thought about what to tell him. Short and simple seemed to be the best option.
“Okay. I grew up in Cleary just down the road from Claire. I spent my first two years of college at our local university. My junior year, I was accepted at Bedford. I have a business degree too,” I told him as an aside. “Bedford had a better business program so I transferred. Shortly after I transferred, we found out my mom was sick. She passed away last winter. I graduated last weekend. I didn’t want to go back to Cleary.” I gave a tiny shrug. My life: in under sixty seconds, I thought. “I missed Claire so here I am.” It may not be the whole truth, but it certainly wasn’t a lie.
He smiled at that. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
His hand drifted up to my shoulder. I felt his fingers delve gently into the hair at the base of my neck. Such a little gesture…should not have had such a big affect on me. I felt my breath catch as longing coursed through me. It rippled down my spine, pooling in my stomach. It didn’t help that he was so close, I could smell his cologne. I could feel his body heat.
Damn, was I attracted to him. The fullness of his lips. The depth of those brown eyes. The huskiness of his voice…I put my glass to my lips and finished off my third glass of wine. I knew I probably shouldn’t have let him pour me that last glass. I wasn’t a big drinker and that much wine was starting to have an effect. It occurred t
o me that I might need to call Claire for a ride.
“You know, you’ve had a lot to drink,” he said as I leaned forward to place my glass on the table. Apparently, we were on the same wavelength. “I can’t in good faith let you drive home. Honestly, I’ve had as much as you so looks like I won’t be driving you home either.” He looked a little unnerved by the thought. “I really should’ve thought of that before I got carried away.” He scraped his hand through his hair.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I can give Claire a call when I’m ready to go. Sean had some out of town thing this weekend. Claire’s just at home. I know she won’t mind.”
His relief was obvious.
“Are you that anxious to get rid of me?” I teased. My head was feeling more than a little woozy but in a very pleasant sort of way.
“Not at all,” he said. He finished off his wine and set his glass aside as well. “In fact, I hope you’re not in a hurry to call Claire.”
His fingers rested lightly against my skin, yet I could feel them all the way to the pit of my stomach. When he began to move in slowly, giving me time to pull away, I realized I wanted this. Maybe I even needed this. What I did know for sure was that I wanted him. My hand floated up to his shoulder as I met him halfway.
When his mouth met mine, an internal heat sparked to life.
His hand, the one that had been resting on my waist, tugged me toward him. I went, swinging one leg around so that I was straddling him. His hands skimmed up my thighs, sliding under my dress but stopping as they landed on my hips. He gave each one a gentle squeeze as I leaned in, pressing my chest to his. My arms were around his neck and my fingers slid up into his hair.
My mouth opened to him, accepting his Chianti-tinged kiss. He devoured me in a way no one else had before. I found myself surrendering any inhibitions I may have had as I give myself over completely to his intoxicating kisses.
In no time we were both gasping and moaning. Nibbling, sucking and tasting. My body was on fire. It had been so long since someone made me feel this way. I relished every minute of it. Every second of it.