But the most interesting part of the conversation followed after Hannah asked if he had plans for the future other than managing SafePlace.
“I’ve never given much thought to doing anything else,” he said. “I’m happy where I am and have plans for expanding the program. There’s need in the suburbs I’d like to see about meeting. You can’t imagine how many women and children are at risk outside the city.” He was sure his expression wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, thanks to the images of what he’d seen in the shelter that popped into his head.
She grasped his hand. The little jolt of attraction he felt from the contact brought him back to where he was and who he was with. He shook his head and shrugged off the mood. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sound so serious.” He squeezed her hand. “What about you? What’s your secret plan for the future?”
“It’s going to sound shallow and vain after what you just said.”
“The drive to do something you love is never shallow or vain. Tell me.”
“Well, as frivolous as it sounds, I want to design clothes for young women starting their careers. The kind they can buy without a lot of money, but still look professional and smart. Actually, I already design clothes. And make them. But only for myself and my friends. Someday, maybe, I’d like to do it for a clothing company.”
“Creativity isn’t frivolous. And it sounds like you’ve found a niche worth filling. Have you tried contacting the clothing companies around here with some of your designs?”
“Columbia Sportswear and Nike aren’t exactly my style.”
He looked at the form-fitting rose-colored jacket she wore with black fabric roses on one shoulder. “Even I can see that. So what are you doing to find a company that is your style?”
She shook her head. “Nothing at the moment. I just do it for fun. Maybe one of these years I’ll think about doing it for real.”
The arrival of their main courses stopped the conversation about her dreams, but David tucked the information away, sure he would find it useful eventually.
• • •
As far as Hannah was concerned, the evening couldn’t have been much better. Her favorite food at the city’s best Thai restaurant, a hot guy across the table from her, and some of the most interesting conversation she’d had with anyone, male or female, in ages. David Shay was funny, smart, and obviously invested in what he did. She’d seen the hurt in his eyes when he talked about his clients. And he hadn’t made fun of her for wanting to design clothes. He seemed to understand how much it meant to her.
But now the question of the evening was about to arise. Would he kiss her? She realized she wanted him to—and was even willing to make the move herself she was so drawn to him. The spark of attraction he’d lit had been obvious to her from the day he walked into her office, and it hadn’t cooled in the two times she’d seen him since, no matter how much she told herself not to get involved with him. And then there was the way he looked tonight when he talked about the clients his program served. Surely someone who cared so much about other people wouldn’t be ... couldn’t be ... a jerk like the dipshit. Would he?
He followed her directions to head south, to her house in Sellwood. After he pulled his CRV up to the curb and cut the engine, he said, “Your house is cute.”
“Thanks, but it’s not mine. It belongs to my housemate. I rent from her.” She hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’d invite you in to meet her, but I didn’t give her any warning about bringing someone home with me. And given how she dresses down when she gets home, I’d embarrass her by springing you on her unannounced.”
“Maybe the next time.” He unclipped his seatbelt and slid closer to her. “And there will be a next time, won’t there?”
“Of course there will be. This was only your first opportunity to show me where I’ve erred in my thinking about Christmas. We have to get through two more before I win the bet.”
“Get through? Is that how you look at going out with me?”
She could feel the blush rising on her face. If she was lucky, it was dark enough in the car that he couldn’t see. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant ... ”
“If you meant you’re still convinced I can’t win but are happy to know we’ll be spending time together, I’ll rein in my outrage.” He released her seatbelt and tugged at her to move her toward him. “I want to think you’d like to see me again, regardless of the bet.” He took her face in his hands and began to stroke her cheekbones with his thumbs.
She couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. The warmth of his hands, the pressure of his caress drove any response she might have made from her thoughts. Just as she began to think cogently again, he touched her mouth with his, lightly, softly. She could taste the spice from his dinner on his lips, along with a very distinctly male flavor.
He tilted her head to get her mouth exactly where he wanted it and kissed her again—this time with more intensity, his lips parting and his tongue urging her to open for him. A moan sounded, echoing inside the car. She was pretty sure it came from her.
Her arms went around his neck, and he pulled her closer, over the console between the seats. It should have been uncomfortable, but all she could feel was the heat of his mouth, the slick of his tongue as he explored her lips from one corner to the other then found her tongue and played hide-and-seek with it.
He slid one hand up her side so it was just under an aching breast. Arching her back to give him better access, she encouraged him to touch the nipple now puckered in anticipation.
But he broke from the kiss. “Not yet. Not tonight. Not in a dark car. I want more than that for us. With lots more time.” He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and her lips. “You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Do you know that?”
She giggled. “You taste like Thai food.”
“Luckily for me, you like Thai food. So all I have to do is find a toothpaste and mouthwash that tastes like pad Thai, and I won’t have to worry about keeping you interested.”
He was funny and smart. He kissed like a wicked romance hero, and he talked about wanting to keep her interested. Any one of those characteristics would intrigue her. The combination would keep her awake for quite a while, wondering if she wanted to be interested.
Chapter 5
It had been another miserable day in the Christmas trenches. First there was the crew of teenaged shoplifters, a classic “gang that couldn’t shoot straight,” they were so inept at what they tried to do. Unfortunately, their parents refused to believe the evidence of the security cameras or the undercover shoppers who saw the teens stuffing merchandise into the bags they were caught with. The indulgent parents argued for what seemed like hours about how their darlings were being harassed before threatening lawsuits and letters of complaint.
Then there was the man who drove her most experienced salesperson to tears with demands for things the store couldn’t provide—alterations to merchandise purchased at another shop, champagne to accompany the diamond bracelet he claimed to be about to purchase, women’s sizes that didn’t exist in clothing meant for young teens, not adults. Her staffer didn’t call in the reinforcements until things spiraled out of control, so Hannah knew another angry letter would be winging its way to Mr. Austin soon.
And that was just what happened before lunchtime.
Worn out when she got home, Hannah changed into yoga pants and a knit top before pouring herself a largish glass of wine. It was her night to cook, but she was beyond the ability to even think about what to prepare, let alone cook it. She was rummaging for takeout menus when her cell rang.
“What’re you up to tonight?” David asked, sounding altogether too cheerful for her mood.
“A tall glass of wine, some pad Thai, and bed. How about you?”
“You tempt me, but ... ”
“I don’t remember asking you to join me. Did I?”
“Sorry. I jumped to a conclusion based on what I wanted, not on what you said.” Before she could sa
y anything more, he continued, “Actually, what I called for might turn your day around. I have the urge to go see one of my favorite holiday places in Portland. I’d like to take you with me. Then I’ll buy you an Irish coffee or a hot buttered rum.”
“Thanks but I’m not really in the mood to go anyplace tonight.”
“If you go with me, that’ll change, I guarantee.”
She apparently hesitated long enough for him to assume she was going to say “yes,” because he said, “Good. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Dress warmly. We’ll be outside for a while.” And he hung up.
Hannah punched the number to call him back and cancel, but she ended the call before the first ring. Maybe he was right, if not for the reason he said. Some Christmas display wasn’t likely to improve her frame of mind, but being with him might—especially if there was any chance for another kiss like the one that ended their last outing. He could put anyone in a good mood with his kisses.
After changing into a pair of jeans and a sweater, she dug out a down jacket and found a warm scarf, hat, and gloves. A quick note to Sarah explained why there was no dinner waiting and warned her David might come back to the house after their date. No, not date, she reminded herself. An outing. A meeting with a colleague.
Except how many meetings with colleagues ended with a kiss?
She was at the front door in time to unlock it just as he knocked.
“Eager to see me? I like that in a woman,” he said, bending down to give her a peck on the cheek.
“Eager to get this over with so we can get to the hot buttered rum and dinner.”
“Did I say anything about dinner?”
“No, but if you’re dragging me out of my warm house to see some stupid Christmas display before I’ve eaten, there better be dinner involved.”
“The place I have in mind for our drinks does food. But first the Christmas cheer, Ebenezer.”
He drove north until they reached Hawthorne Boulevard, where he turned east. At Cesar Chavez Boulevard, he turned north again.
“Oh, my God. It’s the fifteenth of December, isn’t it? Are you taking me where I think you’re taking me?” Hannah asked.
“How do you know where we’re headed?”
“I don’t know, but I think we’re headed to my old neighborhood.”
His head snapped toward her so fast she thought she heard his neck crack. “Are you saying you lived around here?”
“I grew up around here.” Now it was her turn to be mysterious.
“Where, exactly?”
“Oh, a block or so over from here.” She waved vaguely in the general direction of east. “Look, there’s a parking place. You better grab it. Parking’s tough around here this time of year.”
“You know exactly where I’m taking you, don’t you?” he said as he slipped his car into the spot she’d pointed out.
“Yup. Peacock Lane. I might have known a Christmas freak like you would love the place.” She hopped out of the car and waited on the sidewalk for him.
“You know the street?”
“I lived on the street until I went off to college.”
“How can someone who lived at ground zero for Christmas spirit be a Scrooge?” He took her hand, and they joined the crowds on foot headed for the light display on the street.
“I admit I loved the lights when I lived here. For a couple of weeks every year, it felt like we were the center of the city’s attention.” She looked around at the crowd. “I haven’t been here in years. It looks even more popular than I remember it.”
“So your parents don’t live here anymore?”
“No, they moved to a condo after my brother and I graduated from college. I haven’t been back since then.”
Holding hands the whole way, they walked slowly down the sidewalk, admiring the displays of candy canes, blow-up Santas and snowmen, Christmas trees and angels, snowflakes, reindeer, ropes of lights, the Grinch, a house wrapped with lights in the shape of a ribbon and bow, the entire cast of A Charlie Brown Christmas on skates. If it was holiday related, some rendition of it was there, in glorious color and lit up like an airport landing strip. Hannah was happy to see that the basic outline of the display her father had created on their former home was the same, although the new owners had changed the lights from white to multicolored, added trees made of a spiral of lights to line the driveway, and put a sleigh and reindeer on the roof.
She told David stories about popping out of bushes in a glow-in-the-dark vest, angel wings, and halo to scare people walking by. Or standing still, as if part of the display, only to moan and move at an appropriate time. She also told him about the time the houses were vandalized and could tell from his expression he understood exactly how that had dented her belief in the spirit of the holiday.
After they’d evaluated every house on both sides of the street, they headed for the Horse Brass Pub.
Settled with a hot drink and their food ordered, David asked, “So, you in a better mood?”
“I have to admit you were right. I’d forgotten how beautiful the Lane is. It brought back a lot of memories. Thank you.”
“I’d like to take credit for bringing back good times for you, but I had no idea you’d lived there. All I was aiming for was a few gasps of pleasure from you when you saw how spectacular the lights are.”
She lifted her glass and clinked it against his. “Whatever your motive, the result was terrific. Cheers.”
They sipped their drinks for a few moments before she said, “Tell me, I’m curious. Why are you such a fanatic about Christmas? It seems an odd thing for a nice Jewish guy to go all fanboy on.”
He laughed. “I’m not sure I like being described that way. Makes me sound like I’m a groupie for a boy band.”
Before she could apologize, he continued, “But to answer your question, I’m fascinated that, in all these different cultures, there are celebrations of light in one form or another at the darkest time of the year. Ancient Romans celebrated Saturnalia near the winter solstice. In India, it’s Diwali; in Iran, a festival marking the triumph of light over dark. Stonehenge may even be a marker to show the winter solstice. The Swedes dress their daughters up as St. Lucia, with candles on their heads and—”
“That one I know quite personally. We had a Swedish neighbor who had no daughters. My mother wanted to celebrate the holiday with her, so we made St. Lucia buns to deliver to her on December thirteenth. My mother tried to make me wear an Advent wreath on my head with real candles. I refused. She was very annoyed that we put the candles on the tray with the coffee and buns. Not authentic enough, she said.”
He laughed. “I’m beginning to understand more about your problem with the holidays. I don’t think I’d want to have a head full of lighted candles either.”
“The next year, I suggested we just make the buns and have coffee with her.” The server interrupted with their dinners. When he had gone, Hannah said, “So, from Stonehenge to Peacock Lane. You really take this seriously, don’t you? Is it the religious part that speaks to you?”
“Not really. You don’t have to be religious to appreciate it. It’s more like being part of a long tradition of reassurance—no matter how short the days are, or how dark the nights, the celebrations all promise the light will return.”
“Well, that explains your fascination.” She smiled. “I’m still not ready to get excited about the whole thing, but you have given me something to think about.”
“My work here is done, then.”
When they arrived at Hannah’s home after their leisurely meal, she asked, “Want to come in and meet Sarah?”
“She’s been appropriately warned this time?”
“I left her a note and asked her to be prepared for a visitor.”
An introduction, a pot of coffee, and a half hour later, Hannah walked David back to his car. He stopped before stepping off the curb. “Thank you for going with me this evening.”
“I should be thanking you. I felt like I’d gon
e home in some ways.”
He circled her waist with his arms and drew her closer. “Good. Then we both got something we wanted. You got to remember your childhood. I got to spend another evening with you. And another chance to do this.” He lowered his head until his mouth touched hers. She eagerly parted her lips and let him nibble at her lower lip before he stroked his tongue over hers. The shiver that raced through her had nothing to do with the chilly winter air and everything to do with what he was doing with his mouth and his hands, which were pressing her tight against the erection she could feel against her belly.
Changing the angle of his mouth on hers, he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, taking the oxygen from her lungs and sending all the moisture in her body south. It was what she’d been fantasizing about since the last time they’d been out. Only this time, it was better.
When he broke from the kiss, they were both breathing raggedly. He held her, kissing her hair, until their breathing got close to normal.
“The next time, I want ... ” He stopped.
She tilted her head up and smiled at him.
He kissed her gently and released her. “I’ll take that as agreement and hold you to it.”
“Good night, David.”
But as she turned to go back into her house he said, “Wait, we didn’t figure out when ‘next time’ is. Next week must be busy for you. Do you work late every day the week before Christmas?”
“Most days.”
“How about Friday? Are you working then?”
“No, I scheduled myself off.”
“Friday it is.” He stepped into the street and stopped. “Sorry, that was presumptuous of me. What I meant was, would you like to do something next Friday?”
Hannah laughed. “Is this the third and final attempt to change my mind about the holidays?”
Tidings of Love Page 36