by Kaye Blue
The situation wouldn’t last forever, couldn’t possibly last forever, but for the moment, I would hold my tongue, hope that an answer came to me.
I rearranged pans that didn’t need rearranging, and about forty-five minutes after she’d left, Dallas returned. “Come take one last look,” she said.
“Okay,” I responded, grateful for some distraction.
When I entered the dining area, I was taken aback by how pristine it was, how perfect.
“It looks amazing,” I said.
“Yeah. I barely had to do anything, though you know I couldn’t resist rearranging a couple of the pictures on the wall just because,” she said.
“I guess you’re entitled. You did help me bring this place to life, after all,” I said.
She did a little curtsy and then smiled, looking at me, her expression bright.
“This really is amazing, Kristian,” she said.
“Thanks, Dallas,” I responded.
She paused a moment, looking as though she wanted to say something else, but she shook her head faintly, then blinked, apparently having decided against it.
“I’ll get out of your hair, but promise me you won’t retie the apron, rearrange those pots, or, God forbid, go into the walk-in and start moving stuff around. You’re prepared, so just wait,” she said.
“You don’t have to go,” I blurted.
She looked at me like I was insane. “Of course I have to go. I’ve seen you on big nights at your restaurants. You’re a maniac. So I’m going home to watch some cop shows. I’ll catch up with you later,” she said.
She patted me on the shoulder and headed toward the door.
“Later,” I called, laughing as she left.
I wanted to go after her, at least hug her, kiss her, but I resisted the impulse.
In fact, I had been far too indulgent with my impulses already today. I hadn’t intended to kiss her in the kitchen, but not doing so had felt so wrong, and I’d been unable, or unwilling, to resist.
Because kissing her felt natural, perfect, just like having her in my life, in my bed, did.
“Seriously, not now,” I whispered, my voice chiding, my emotions not responding.
It couldn’t be a good sign that between Dallas and the second restaurant, I had been driven to talking to myself. And it was probably worse that talking to myself didn’t seem to be helping me any.
In fact, it seemed the more I told myself not to think about Dallas, the more she filled my thoughts.
No surprise there, but something I’d definitely have to get used to.
But for now, I headed back to the kitchen.
Dallas had given me strict orders, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if she showed back up to make sure I followed through.
But she hadn’t said anything about reorganizing the pantry, a job I knew would kill at least ninety minutes.
Whistling, I headed toward it.
Dallas
“Shit! I forgot to tell him to stay out of the pantry. I bet he’s reorganizing it,” I muttered.
It was only after I’d said that entire sentence that I realized I was talking out loud, quickly stopped because I knew I probably looked insane.
Not like I cared, of course, but it still seemed like a good idea.
Just like going back to the restaurant seemed like a good idea.
I wouldn’t, though.
I wanted to be there with him tonight, so desperately I could barely fathom it. But I knew that I couldn’t.
Yes, Kristian was intense when he was working, but I could sense that he would have been okay if I had broken our long-standing tradition.
What I was less sure about was whether I would be okay.
I didn’t know, and despite how much I might have wanted to support him, I didn’t want to risk it either.
I’d already done far too much of that in the recent weeks, and as I walked toward my studio, I contemplated that, wondered how things had gotten so out of hand.
Weirdly enough, the sex was the least complicated part of our relationship.
If I’d had to place bets on that two months ago, I definitely wouldn’t have made that one.
But it was true.
Granted, I didn’t have anything to compare it to, but in my gut, I knew that what we had was something special, something good, mutually beneficial, something that made both of us happy.
We might not have a soul-deep love affair, and I was okay with that. One of the things I never wanted to happen was to have Kristian regret what he had done for me or feel like he’d been doing it out of a sense of duty.
I didn’t think he did, which had taken a weight off my shoulders, allowed me to explore this new side of myself, learn something that could exist without him.
But the emotional changes…
They were intense, almost painful, but the worst thing about it was that I didn’t know if they were simply mine alone.
I found myself, many times, trying to interpret Kristian’s behavior. Wondering if a word, a caress, a look meant something or not.
I hadn’t dared ask him, and he hadn’t shared anything of the like, but I somehow felt closer to him, felt like the compatibility that had been present between us since the first day we had met all of those fateful years ago, had deepened, taken on a different tone.
I didn’t know how I’d be able to give that up. I reached my studio and unlocked and then relocked the door and headed inside.
I’d still been working on those drawings of the metal sculptures and was finding myself drawn to them again.
They provided me an outlet, a space to take my mind to a place where I wasn’t thinking about Kristian, myself, or even the future. I threw myself into that project, let the rest of the world fade, knowing that it, and all of the messiness, most of it of my own creation, would be there.
I’d told Kristian I was going to watch some cop shows, but I decided against it.
After a quick glass of water, I changed into a pair of comfy pants and a tank top and made my way to my sketching table. I still hadn’t begun sculpting. It rarely happened, but I was afraid to start working with the metal. I wanted the sculptures to be perfect, and I didn’t think I had the talent to make them what I wanted them to be.
That didn’t stop me from trying. I poured myself into my work, did my best to make the picture I saw in my head be the one that came out first on paper, and then on metal.
“Dallas!”
At the sound of a voice I jumped, disoriented because I had been so deeply caught up in working on the sketch.
“Kristian?” I called, glancing at the clock.
It was only then that I recalled how a month ago the battery on the wall clock had gone out, and I hadn’t bothered to replace it.
I stood, curious as to what time it was, and more importantly what Kristian was doing here.
When he walked up the studio steps and turned the corner, my heart lurched, my happiness at seeing him not surprising, but overwhelming in its intensity.
He looked tired, but still handsome, and, almost triumphant.
I let a smile slowly spread across my face.
“It went good?” I asked.
He waited a moment, pausing for dramatic effect before he started beaming, his smile matching mine.
“It went good,” he responded simply.
“Yeah! I knew it,” I said, running over to him and throwing my arms around his neck.
He hugged me tight, his breath warm against my face as he held me close.
I ignored the fact that the unsettled feeling I’d had, the thing inside me that had been restless, missing him, was gone now that I was back in his arms.
“Tell me all about it,” I said, breaking the hug, both because I needed the space, and because I genuinely wanted to know how things had gone.
“The patrons loved the food, the service went off without a hitch, everybody played their roles. It was smooth, perfect, seamless, exactly how I like it.”
�
�Well congratulations,” I said, reaching for my customary high five.
Kristian gave it, but then grasped my hand and held it tight.
There was a wealth of communication in his hold, and I wondered what it meant that I could so easily understand what he was getting at without him saying a word.
I looked up into his dark brown eyes, saw the emotion there, felt my breath hitch. I stood stock-still as he moved closer, grazed lips against mine, then kissed me harder, and then harder.
I thought I had gotten used to what it was like to have Kristian kiss me, but as he did with so many other things, he proved me wrong.
His lips against mine, his body pressing against me, all of it still took my breath away.
This was what I had dreamed of, what I had held out all those years for. Yes, I hadn’t simply wanted to sleep with just anyone, but as I spent more time with Kristian, I’d started to accept that there was more to it than that. If I had been inclined I was certain I could have had sex long before now, but it was only now that I could accept the reason why I hadn’t taken that final step. I wanted this, to feel lightheaded, giddy when I kissed someone, when I was with them. I also wanted to feel safe, treasured, loved.
I knew that wasn’t Kristian’s intention, and I certainly would never say anything about it out loud to him, but when I was with him, I felt that way.
I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to give it up.
I felt a little glum at that thought and broke the kiss, and Kristian looked at me.
“You okay?” he asked.
Again I smiled, amazed that he could think of me in the midst of celebrating his special day.
“I’m more than okay. And really, congratulations,” I said, turning my attention back to the restaurant. Better that than the emotions that I didn’t want to voice.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said.
I scoffed and waved a hand dismissively.
“I’m serious, Dallas,” he said. I could hear from the tone in his voice that he was, and I turned to look at him.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
He’d unbuttoned his shirt and taken his undershirt off, so he stood in slacks, bare-chested, the most amazing sight. But what struck me was his eyes. They had taken on a far-off quality, but when he looked at me again, they were sharp.
“I’ve never told you how much you mean to me. And how much you’ve taught me,” he said.
He walked over and hugged me, and then began to lead me to the bedroom.
“You’re the one who’s the teacher, here,” I said.
“Here, yes, but I wouldn’t even be here without you,” came his reply.
When we reached the bedroom he pushed me down on the bed, something I was starting to realize he got a big kick out of.
I wanted to tease him about it, but I could sense that he had something he wanted to say, something important, and I wanted to hear it.
He wasn’t looking at me, but was instead taking off my shoes and socks and then moving to my pants, but he still spoke. “You know it took a lot for me to leave Medina and come here,” he said.
“Yeah,” I responded.
He’d told me how his father had forbade him, and how it was only after a lot of soul-searching that he had decided to do it anyway.
“I was really proud of myself when I did that, but then I met you.”
“I made you feel less proud?” I asked.
He paused for a moment, placing a soft kiss against my hip before he began to pull my panties down my legs. One day I’d get used to this, how Kristian and I could be in the midst of a deep conversation and still have that passion.
“No, but you showed me I could do so much more. I was just going to come here, stay for a while, then go home. But seeing the way you pursued your art made it impossible for me to do that. You never gave up. You never settled, you never made yourself small, and seeing you do that day after day without even a fraction of the things I had made it impossible for me not to pursue my dream and give it my all.”
“Kristian…” I said.
“I should have told you before, but really, without you none of this would exist. Thank you, Dallas,” he said.
We were both naked now and he kissed me softly, cradled my head between his hands.
I kept my eyes locked on his, but caressed his body, the strong muscles of his thick, barrel chest making my palms tingle.
I reached between us and stroked his shaft.
I still wasn’t quite accustomed to the feel of his heavy weight in my palm, but I loved it, loved touching him like this, seeing his reaction, knowing that I was bringing him pleasure.
And the way he looked at me now only made that feeling more acute. There was a reverence in his expression that I never expected to see from anyone, especially not Kristian.
I found it hard to believe that I had such an effect on him, but I saw the truth of it in his words.
I wished I could tell him all that he had done for me, all that he made me feel, but I couldn’t.
I was already at Kristian’s mercy, but to reveal that much more to him, make myself that much more vulnerable was something I couldn’t do. It wouldn’t be smart. No matter how things might be in this moment, for the next week, or even the week after if we continued on that long, this would come to an end. And when that time came, I still wanted Kristian to be in my life. If he knew the things I was thinking right now, knew how I felt, that wouldn’t be possible.
So I held my tongue and let my hands and body say what my mouth could not.
Fifteen
Kristian
I knocked on Dallas’s door, something I did even though I had a key, and then let myself in.
The place was quiet, but that wasn’t a surprise. For someone as boisterous as Dallas could sometimes be, her studio was her sanctuary. Her cluttered, but silent, sanctuary.
“Dallas?” I called, wondering why I hadn’t yet heard her customary greeting.
I continued in, walked into her workspace, my gaze zeroing in on its target instantly.
In this case, the target happened to be a sleeping Dallas.
Her hair was still as wild as ever, but she gripped her pencil tight, almost like she was intending to continue her sketch even in her sleep.
The surge of warmth that crashed through my chest at that sight was nearly overwhelming, something that made my chest hurt with the strength of the feeling I had for her.
I gently pried the pencil out of her fingers. It was one from the set I’d given her.
I also took a quick peek at what she had been drawing, saw that it, like all of her other stuff, was amazing.
But neither the pencil nor the drawing could distract me from the woman.
I kissed her forehead, then ran my hand down her back.
“Dallas, wake up,” I said.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me dreamily, happy.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice groggy, but still soft and warm with sleep.
“I figured you’d be working hard. I wanted to put a stop to it,” I said.
That was the truth, but only a part of it. I had known she’d been working but her doing that didn’t bother me, or at least it hadn’t before.
But now I wanted to see her always, and this seemed as good an opportunity as any.
“Yeah, I guess I’m guilty as charged,” she said, stretching up tall, her body shifting and writhing as she worked out the kinks. She stood, but before she could take a step I had swept her into my arms.
She giggled, the sound sincere, honest, one that I loved.
I kissed her, and she kissed me back. Things between us had always been easy and comfortable, but our bodies moved like a symphony, each motion feeling choreographed, but actually just a natural result of how we fit together.
We peeled off each other’s clothing as we made our way to her bedroom, and wordlessly fell onto her bed. I wanted to devour her, touch her everywhere at
once, and I did my best, not lingering in one place for too long.
Like always, Dallas gave as good as she got, her hands exploring my body as she kissed me.
I only broke contact long enough to slide on the condom, pausing for a split second to dream of the day when there would no longer be anything between us, but content to take her however I could until then.
She was open for me, ready, waiting, and I wasted no time entering her.
Again I was struck by how right this was, and how I never wanted it to end.
But I couldn’t say that.
I surged into her one final time, those feelings, the ones that I had been denying, threatened to make their appearance. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, tell her how much, tell her that I always would.
But something, cowardice, fear, something, held me back.
But the words still threatened to come, so instead of trying to fight them, I kissed her, kept my lips sealed on hers as climaxes rocked through both of our bodies.
Sixteen
Kristian
“Leo, what the hell is this about?” I asked a few days later.
I heard Leo’s deep sigh over the phone. “Father’s in town. He’s insisting on seeing us.”
“Well just because he insists doesn’t mean I have to go,” I said.
“No, it does not. But I’m asking you to be there,” Leo responded.
I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but hearing Leo’s request sapped some of my anger. Not all of it, but enough for me to continue.
“Why?” I asked.
I waited a moment and then shook my head, though Leo couldn’t see me. “Never mind. I’ll be there.”
“Thank you, Kristian,” Leo said.
We said quick good-byes and hung up, but I was beyond frustrated.
Leo never asked anything of me, so it was impossible for me to deny him this. But at the same time, the second restaurant was barely off the ground, and I needed to be there every night. I would have expected my father to know that, but when I considered it, he probably did know and didn’t give a shit. After all, he only saw the restaurants as a distraction, was certain even that through my own failure or his pressing, I would eventually give them up. So what did he care if I lost a valuable night and an important venture?