I caught his hungry expression, a slight smile playing on his lips. This man’s eyes captured me—sometimes icy, sometimes dark. Tonight they were a gunmetal gray. They held secrets, a past I knew nothing about, and I was eager for him to spill. Don’t even get me started on his tattoos, which were concealed most of the time. I wanted to go over every single one, asking why he got them and what they meant when he did. I was losing my mind, and had to keep my head above water, tread to the shore, and not let myself drown.
When the waiter came back, Josh ordered the New York Strip with pancetta Brussel sprouts, I ordered the duck ragu with the house made rigatoni. I nervously played with the stem of my glass and watched him take a sip of his wine, his gaze never wavering.
“You’re drinking… not water.” I wondered if there was a reason for his aversion to alcohol other than his need to control situations around him.
“Well, red wine has antioxidants, you know.” He winked, which I knew caused my face to flush.
“That’s my excuse too,” I teased, knowing full well that wasn’t the reason he was drinking tonight. Whether he wanted to relax, or just enjoy wine along with me, he was showing he could let loose, and I appreciated the gesture.
My motives to find men deplorable and untrustworthy were crumbling in the presence of this man. He was gaining entry, breaking my defenses down, making me forget all the ridiculous exes. Warning signs seemed to fly out the window in one swoop with other men I had dated. With Josh, well, I kept a close watch on those signs. I couldn’t afford to make another mistake, letting my heart fly into something only to crash and burn. “In the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you drink anything other than water. You don’t like drinking, do you?”
He shifted in his seat, placing his glass down and leaning his forearms on the table. “It’s not something I find necessary.”
That vague answer that told me nothing, yet told me everything. There was something he was hiding. Those warning signs came back into play. My face must have given me away because he continued, “Not that I look down on anyone who fancies a nice drink. For me, in particular, I don’t really care for it.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to spill out another question, but he could read me too well. “What is it, Red? Just ask.”
“Did you have a reliance on it at some point?” My fright was getting the better of me. I had dealt with so much in the past, I wasn’t ready to go into something blindly. Honesty up front was best. And although I had been scared to confront men in the past, I had to do it now, for my own good.
“Are you asking if I was an alcoholic?” He chuckled and leaned back in his chair and I tensed up in defense.
“What? It’s a legitimate question. It’s okay if you were. You aren’t now and I’m not judging, but I’d like to know.”
He shook his head, looking down and back to me, his eyes like lasers. “No, love, I never had a dependency at any point in my life.”
“Not even to steroids?” What the hell was wrong with me? I was on a date with this gorgeous man and basically interrogating him.
His boisterous laugh kept me at ease, and I was glad I hadn’t offended him yet, otherwise this might likely be my first and last date with him. “No. No steroids. I believe in living a clean life, and working hard to keep it that way. Every now and then I do have cravings for your tiramisu.”
Can’t say I was surprised by that statement. My tiramisu is capable to change anyone over from the dark side. It didn’t mean a thrill didn’t shoot through me at his love for it. However, there was still more to his story than wanting to live a clean life. I was aware of his ‘no bullshit policy’ according to Evan, so I found it odd he wouldn’t say more than that. Nevertheless, I was somewhat remorseful at my very personal questions—only somewhat. Even though we had met over six months ago, I realized I barely knew the man in front of me. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m guessing there’s an intention behind your questions.” His eyebrow raised as his finger tapped on the linen tablecloth awaiting an answer. I didn’t want to give it, yet he made me feel safe in sharing, even if he hadn’t opened up to me just yet. Before I could formulate what I would say, the waiter brought our dishes and the aroma hit my senses, making me sigh.
The sweet smell of spices, tomatoes, and Parmigiano-Reggiano made my mouth water, and I was thankful my appetite was returning, albeit only ever around him. Feeling at ease around him was something I didn’t want to acknowledge, but it was as if a weight lifted off my shoulders whenever he was in my presence. I plunged into the dish with gusto, each bite of duck better than the last.
“So, spill, babe.” He chewed his steak with calculation, and I was gathering he savored food probably as much as I did. “What did he do to you?”
I paused my fork midway to my mouth and set it down. Anxiety crept up, a tightening in my chest making it difficult to breathe, but I braced myself and went for it. “Aiden, my ex, was a drinker. In fact, he consumed more than he confessed to himself or to me. He hid it so well, most of the time I couldn’t tell. Or maybe I was just too blind or didn’t want to see it.”
Josh stilled, his expression like a stab in the chest. A tick in his jaw was the only movement, but anger and defense was prevalent in his demeanor. “He hit you?” he asked so hushed I almost couldn’t hear him.
A shaky breath exited as I picked up my wine and sipped, hoping I had the courage to divulge this part of my life I blamed myself for. “Once. He was training to be an MMA fighter, so you can imagine how hard his strike was. For years it was just a lot of manipulation and lies. I lost myself, taking it all from him, hoping he’d want more with me. But that blow? That was the last straw. It woke me up, and I broke it off. He begged to come back, told me he reformed. He promised marriage, a great life, but I knew he wasn’t going to change.”
“Do you still love him?”
The bluntness of his query caught me off guard, along with his pained countenance, although it was fair game after the gravity of the questions I had asked. I gave pause to carefully consider my response. “It’s in the past now.”
“Want me to beat him up for you?”
I smiled. “Not today, thanks.”
“I’ll only break his arm. I promise.”
It felt good to laugh at Aiden’s expense. The mood seemed relaxed after his joke. Chatting with Josh became comfortable as I slowly learned more about this enigmatic man. We ate in silence, then after some time, I asked, “How did you end up here in the States?”
By this point, he had finished his food, pushing his plate forward. “Once my mum passed away, there wasn’t much keeping me in London. A mate of mine had connected me with someone in the entertainment industry. I began traveling with certain celebrities on tours, and eventually made my way to Los Angeles. That was a little more than fifteen years ago.”
“And now you know Evan.”
“And now I know Evan, the wanker,” he playfully added.
I twisted over the mention of his mother. He had lost her at a young age. I couldn’t decide what was more painful—having absent parents or having them taken away so early, but I concluded his loss must have been tragic. “I’m sorry about your mom. Were you close?”
He shrugged, looking down at his empty plate. “Evan and Hank are my family.”
No mention of his father. No siblings. I took the hint immediately and figured if he wanted to share, he eventually would. Prying wasn’t my thing when it came to a family topic, so I changed the subject to something lighter. “I hope Hank found a new chew toy other than my innocent shoes.”
“I’m sure he found one of your pretty handbags you got hanging around.” He teased as he waved the waiter down and asked for the check.
“I’d never forgive him.”
His beaming face looked extremely kissable, and I was so curious to know what those lips could do to me. That almost-kiss during our training had me in tatters and had plagued my mind for one too many nights,
almost to the point of me wanting to train again just for an excuse to have his body against mine. His spirited voice reacted to the mention of his dog. “You like him.”
“His owner isn’t so bad either,” I said, without hesitance. I was beginning to like this guy more than I could have imagined, and I was letting my guard down. I prayed this time, after so many heartaches, it wouldn’t be in vain.
Dinner to be followed up with a drink, perhaps at the Driscoll hotel, was my hope, however, I could tell Marla was teetering on exhaustion. A direct drive home was in order, although my selfishness wanted to take all of her time. Exploration of this woman would never get old. From the way her honeyed voice sounded, to the way she looked at me with an evaluating eye, I was fascinated, hooked, and as I drove to her house, my body ached to touch hers.
The way I viewed it, I was slowly trekking my way up the mountain, each admission from her getting me a bit higher. Each grip of the jagged rock was just as important as the last, and one wrong step could lead me to slip and fall behind. But I knew, with all my being, I knew once I reached the peak I would fly, and then gloriously fall over that precipice. All I could do was hope she would want to take the plunge with me.
Reaching over the center car console, I tugged her hand into mine, our fingers tangling. A whisper of a smile played on her lips, her hesitance making sense to me now. Trust had been shattered, she was afraid to lose herself the way she had before, and with a man she thought would care for her the way a man should. I wasn’t kidding when I told her I would beat the bastard up. No man should ever hit a woman, and the thought of it boiled my blood. I lifted her hand, kissing the top of it as I pulled up in her driveway.
Archaic, Neanderthal-like thoughts beset my mind as they had a million times since I had laid eyes on her. To seize her, place her into bed and lick her all over until intense pleasure seeped out from every fiber of her was one of the best tasks I would hope to achieve, but as her head lolled back on the headrest and she gave me a lazy smile, I knew tonight wasn’t the night.
I walked her to the front door as she dug her key out of her purse, and looked over to her car. Grabbing her hand, I led her over to her vehicle, proud of my accomplishment for the day.
“Your car is all set. The tires I chose will have extra traction when it rains. Remember to rotate them every other oil change.”
“Well, don’t they just rotate when they’re in motion?” Her face showcased confusion as she asked with complete sincerity.
My mouth hung open, and for a moment my brain had stopped functioning. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “Don’t they just spin when you drive? That’s rotating, right?”
Was she serious? I covered my mouth as I groaned, “Oh, Jesus Christ help me.”
She pushed on my shoulder, barely making me budge. I did give a bit of leeway, letting her think it was possible to shove me at all. “What? I just take it to the car dealer place, and they do everything for me.”
I let out an exasperated sigh trying to remember she didn’t have a brother to teach her these things. She’s a woman. Female. They usually didn’t care about this type of shit, but to at least know the basics was something she needed. She needed me. I almost started to explain to her the logistics of why tires needed to be balanced, when the flicker of a light caught my eye. The backyard had lit up and I craned my neck to get a view.
“What—”
“Shh,” I interrupted her and stayed still, listening intently for any signs of movement. “Do you have motion detector lighting in the back yard?”
She glanced to where I was peering, “Oh, yeah. Sometimes the neighbor’s cat walks around and sets it off.”
“Do you mind if I check things out?” Regardless if it was a cat or not, her tires had just been slashed and her porchlight broken. I wanted to take precautionary measures, even if it was nothing.
“I guess. It’s not really necessary though.”
“Yes, it is.” No longer up for negotiation, I walked toward the back while Marla went inside. I took my time surveying the area. There was nothing unusual in the spacious setting, but I made sure the wooden fence was shut properly. Perhaps it was an animal just making its rounds.
I walked back in, securing the French style doors behind me, making sure the gauzy curtains were closed. Marla flipped through a magazine as she stood near the kitchen counter. Her feet were bare, and I glanced to the door seeing the shoes she’d been wearing were kicked in the corner. Guess some habits would be hard to break, I smiled and would have to teach Hank to stay away from women’s footwear.
The smell of cinnamon and vanilla infused my nostrils as I approached, and she shifted her body toward mine. “Nothing?”
I shook my head as I hovered closer to her, those large doe eyes roaming my face, her cherry lips parted in anticipation. “Nothing.”
She swallowed and raised her hands, letting them rest on my chest. My breathing increased at the feel of her warm palms through the fabric of my shirt. She stared straight on, as if the buttons holding it together were doing a dance—little did she know it was my heart skipping beats. “Thank you…for fixing my car, for lunch and dinner today,” she whispered as her chest pumped quickly, nerves evident.
“And the breakfast you didn’t eat.”
She chuckled. “That too.”
My hands reached out, cupping her jaw and tilting her face up, but her eyes remained lowered—as if once she looked at me she’d be just as lost in this as I was. I took my time pushing strands of her hair back from the silky feel of her cheeks. “Anything you need, I’m here,” my voice came out huskier than intended. Her body moved closer to mine as she wrapped her arms around my back and our eyes met head on, along with her lips. Like a meteor crashing into earth, our movements were fast and scorching.
Her kiss branded me, marking my soul beyond anything I had imagined. That mouth tasted every bit as sweet as I hoped. Turning frantic with passion, I let my hands tangle in her locks of hair, pushing her closer as she clawed at my back, making me feel animalistic, primal—and my need for her was fierce. I was voracious for all of her, and the moan that escaped her as my tongue stroked hers had my trousers tightening against me.
The growl that ripped through me couldn’t be contained as she clasped my lower lip between her teeth and pulled then sucked. Our breathing became ragged as I pushed her against the counter and lowered my hands to her waist, tugging to get her as close as our bodies could allow. My lips traveled to her neck and I nipped her skin, kissing my way up to her earlobe, playing with it as she let out a shudder.
My appetite nowhere near being appeased, the ache was beyond intense as possessive and carnal thoughts ran through me. My hard-on was unmistakable as she tried to grind her body against it. I reluctantly pulled away, giving those sweet crimson lips one last taste. Her eyes were hooded, and as I moved back, she seemed dazed and grabbed my forearms for balance. I grinned at the thought of making her weak in the knees.
“Wh-what…why’d you stop?”
“I’d better go, sweetheart. It’s late.” I let my hands glide over the beautiful planes of her cheeks. Those bourbon eyes opened with sudden awareness.
“That’s…that’s it?” She was muddled as I moved away heading toward the door. “You’re leaving?”
Taking my eyes off of her should have been a sin in itself. Heaven made this woman to be gazed at, her body worshipped and adored in full, but not just yet. “How about you, me, and Hank hit Zilker Park tomorrow?” As I approached the door, I turned to see her near me, chewing her bottom lip, thoughts swirling like a twister of doubt. I lifted her hand and kissed it, hoping to settle the storm down. “There’s no rush, love. We have time,” I said gently, wanting to gain her belief in me.
“Do we?” Her skepticism was evident, apprehension shooting rays from her eyes. “Do we really have time, Josh?”
I leaned down once more, my lips brushing against hers as I whis
pered, “I want this, Marla. So yes, love, we do.”
In that moment we parted, a smile grew over her elegant face, along with a hope expanding inside my chest.
“I want this?” I stayed up all night and contemplated what that sentence meant all damn day. What did the large man with pillowy lips want exactly? Lord help me, my physical advances had been rejected, not once, but twice now. Granted he said we had time, but how much time could we possibly possess? He was Evan’s personal trainer, which meant as soon as Evan left to Atlanta to film his next project, Josh would follow. A couple of months, give or take, would be the most time we’d have—if that. My assumption was we’d pass that time with some fun, so why not start right away?
A guy like him wasn’t one you settled down with, he was the one you hoped would settle down. He was one to tame, that wildness within him leaking from every pore. He maintained the façade well, that need for control held back what was lurking under the surface. Now to only see what his undoing was? That would be interesting.
Time. I scoffed at the word, recalling the way he said it, the way his mouth played on mine. Frantic, hungry, and absolutely earth-shattering, that kiss was unlike anything I had experienced. Even though there were times I felt in love with the men from my past, their kisses didn’t stir up the heat and passion I had felt at Josh’s electric touch. And yet, behind that lustful desire, something else lingered. Something deeper, more meaningful than what I was familiar with gnawed at me, and I had to admit I was scared what it meant.
The knock at my door couldn’t be more requisite, pulling me out of thoughts I didn’t want to dwell over. I heard a familiar bark and the idea of Josh and Hank on my doorstep made me smile. There he stood in all his damn handsome glory. A cap with some sports team insignia covered his head. A V-neck shirt hugged his body, as well as that chain hanging from his neck. Those tats peeked from under his sleeves and a few leather bracelets hung loosely from his wrists, as well as a large silver watch.
A Promise Made (Promise #2) Page 11