Inside the apartment, Ireland leaned against the wall and hyperventilated. Tremors racked her body from the fright she'd just received. What was James thinking? Hadn't he been working on the East Coast? How did he get here so quickly to check on her? He said they probably wouldn't see each other again, yet here he was, scaring her half to death, spying on her. None of it made any sense.
She rose the next morning, groggy. She'd had a hard time getting to sleep, and her eight a.m. alarm rang far too soon. Landi rolled out of bed and made herself a cup of strong, black tea. As she sipped the hot liquid, she wondered if James would show up. She'd never loved anyone the way she loved him. She felt they were connected, yet he was always just out of reach. She wished she'd come from a good family and was prettier, older, more educated. Then, maybe he'd care for her as she did for him.
James barely slept a wink. He still needed to know where the girl had been, where she'd spent Friday evening and Saturday, and if she shared her time with anyone else. At least she hadn't been harmed. He'd worried about that too. More than anything, he wanted to keep her safe and shelter her from any more pain. She'd experienced enough in that department.
James cursed when he nicked himself with the razor. He was running late. He grabbed a tie and jacket and headed for the door. He didn’t intend to let Ireland slip away again.
Landi opened the door and gave James a good once-over before checking his eyes. A deep blue, his irises told her he'd left his dark brooding at home. His clothes amplified his blonde hair, azure eyes, and rugged good looks.
Of course, she mused. He knows how handsome he looks in his crisp light blue dress shirt with that deep plum tie and navy suit.
Good Lord, she's lovely.
Jim lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw her. She had on a fitted light blue dress with a matching short-sleeved jacket. A jewel neckline held rows of tiny, shiny periwinkle, oblong beads that highlighted her face. The dress fit snugly while the little, boxy coat added some formality to her ensemble. He touched the hem of her sleeve. He couldn't help himself. The fabric had a unique, pebble-like, soft texture. Her nude pumps gave the girl some added height. She'd pinned her hair back, away from her face, but several curly tendrils had rebelled and sprung loose, framing her features.
"You look, uh . . . you look nice," he said.
It was good to see her after so many weeks, under better circumstances than last night.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," she remarked, locking the door.
"Oh, I couldn't miss a chance to go to church with you," he said.
She gave him a sideways glance, trying to determine his sincerity. His countenance reflected no sarcasm, and she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. She knew this Sunday's sermon topic and couldn't wait to watch Jim's reaction.
In the church, James appeared to enjoy the worship music, clapping along with the choir. Landi noticed all the smiles, nods, and quick looks they received. She figured it was due to James. He was so handsome and tall. She guessed everyone wondered what he was doing with someone like her.
Jim dabbed his forehead with the handkerchief he'd placed in his pocket. Once the pastor started preaching on honesty, he broke out in a cold sweat. What would Landi think? He took deep breaths and tried to remain calm, swiping the dime-sized beads of water from his face.
"Thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor," the minister boomed in his deep voice, staring right at James.
He fought the urge to bolt. This must be the feeling of conviction she'd mentioned. He tried to tune the pastor's voice out as he spoke about lying and all its evil implications, but he could not. He turned to look at Ireland. She smiled sweetly, having no idea of the struggle that went on within him. She pointed to her forehead, a signal that he needed to swipe the hanky over his own again. James told himself that once this was over, he'd never tell another lie, at least not to this innocent, trusting girl.
By the time the choir sang for the invitation, his cold sweat had subsided and the damp handkerchief remained the only evidence of his bout with nerves. Landi held his hand until the end of the service when they rose to leave. Like the last time, the minister greeted people as they filed out through the foyer. He shook Jim's hand, thanked him for coming back, and said he hoped to see him again soon, giving him a penetrating stare along with a friendly smile.
"I'd like to take you somewhere," James said as he pulled his car to a stop in front of Landi's apartment.
"Where?" she asked when he opened her door and helped her from the vehicle.
"Up the coast. I know a place where we can have a nice lunch and then hang out on the water. I can be back here in an hour if you'd like to change."
Landi considered his offer. She loved the idea of spending the day with him. Maybe she could get some answers out of the man regarding his strange behavior.
"That sounds nice," she heard herself say.
"Great. Just throw on some jeans and bring a sweater," he called over his shoulder as he jogged to his car.
An hour later, they were speeding up Pacific Coast Highway. He'd lowered the top of his sports car, and the sea air smelled wonderful. Landi had swapped her dress for blue jeans and a pink sweater set. She'd put a white bandana in her hair so the wind wouldn’t wreak havoc on her unruly mane. Canvas tennis shoes added to her youthful appearance. If not for the sunglasses, she could pass for a junior high student from a distance.
In Oxnard, he pulled off the main road and parked around a corner from a charming café. Bougainvillea hung over and around the entrance to the restaurant like heavy, formal draperies. The hot pink color drew the eye and customers inside. An aroma of garlic, shallots, and melting butter filled the air, stimulating Ireland's appetite.
As she glanced around, she noticed that young couples filled the place. Occasionally, she spotted a table with three or four men, but they appeared no older than thirty either. It seemed a bit odd.
"How did you find this place?" she asked after they'd been seated.
"The military has a linguist school nearby," he whispered. "It's a popular spot when guys want to get off base and enjoy some fine dining."
That explained the clientele.
"Did you study there?" she asked.
"Yes, for a year. That's when I discovered Henri's. The food is amazing here. Would you like me to order for you?"
"Please." She nodded.
An older man approached the table and greeted Jim with a toothy smile. James rose and hugged the man, then introduced the owner to Ireland.
"This is my girl. Henri, Ireland. Ireland, this is Henri, owner of the best French restaurant in Southern California."
The older gentleman made a deep bow, reached for Landi's hand, and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
"So pleased to meet you, Mademoiselle Ireland."
"Thank you," she said, blushing.
Landi wasn’t sure how to respond to this kind of greeting. She felt like she should curtsy or take some such action, but decided to remain seated since the two men didn't seem to expect anything more of her.
James discussed the day's special with Henri, and when the owner volunteered to provide them with a special tasting menu, he jumped at the opportunity. When left alone, he let his excitement show.
"We're in for quite a treat, Landi. I hope you're feeling adventurous."
After a delicious appetizer, the ingredients of which puzzled her, a waiter brought mixed green salad dressed with warm shallots in oil. Later, he presented them each with a large gougère stuffed with a delicious concoction of mushrooms, tomatoes, and sliced ham. Ireland could taste the sharp cheese in the puff pastry.
"It's delicious," she replied when Henri came by to check on them.
The proprietor smiled.
"You will permit moi to chose the final course, non?"
"Of course, Henri. We'd be honored," James said.
The older man dashed off, a pleased expression on his face.
"Did you come here often
when you were in school?" she asked.
"Every chance I could," he said, laughing.
She imagined him bringing dates here for romantic dinners. No wonder he brought her at lunch. Then again, he had introduced her as his girl. A waiter interrupted her musings with dessert. He placed something called a pear and cherry clafouti in front of Ireland and a hazelnut dacquoise before Jim.
"Let's share," James suggested.
Ireland responded with a dubious expression. She'd seen him in action too many times to give him a carte blanche with their last course.
"Come on. I won't hog anything," he promised.
She tucked one corner of her mouth under a cheek and rolled her eyes towards heaven. Then she assented with a nod. Landi closed her eyes as a bite of the clafouti melted in her mouth. The taste was somewhere between a baked pudding and a bread. Tart cherries and the texture of sliced pears contrasted with the creamy, sweet filling.
"Mmm, this is phenomenal," she said, opening her eyes and smiling.
Jim sported his own grin, due no doubt to his taste of the dacquoise.
"You've gotta try this," he said, pointing his utensil towards the hazelnut treat.
He carved a bit onto his fork and leaned towards Landi. She parted her lips and allowed him to feed her the sweet. Again, she shut her eyes and concentrated on the tastes dissolving on her tongue. She enjoyed a crunchy meringue layered with a coffee cream.
"Fabulous," she proclaimed, opening her eyes.
Shocked to see that James hadn't already downed his entire dessert, she realized he'd slowed his usual pace to enjoy each morsel.
"Have some of this," she encouraged, pushing her plate towards him. There was no way she would feed James.
He helped himself to a forkful of clafouti, savoring the experience.
"Ooh, I really like the cherries in there," he said.
They continued exchanging bites and enjoying their own sweets until the coffee arrived. Then, they lingered over the piping hot beverage long after they'd finished dessert. James recounted a few humorous situations he'd gotten into during his time in Oxnard, making Ireland laugh.
"I missed you, Landi," he confessed suddenly.
"Did you?" she asked, her tone cool.
She wasn't prepared to fall into his arms just yet. She'd shared the majority of her innermost secrets with him, and he'd fled to the East Coast the first chance he got. She could only interpret that as rejection.
"Why do you think I call you every night?" he said in a low tone, reaching for her hand.
James lifted the girl's hand to the table. He rubbed his calloused thumb over her wrist. She tried to pull her hand away, but he used his fingers to keep her in place.
"I don't know why you call me, James. I don't know why you do anything."
She stared at him with those piercing green eyes, and he began to feel uncomfortable.
"I care for you, Landi. That's why I do the things I do."
She looked dubious. He gave her hand a squeeze, then paid the check. Henri popped out to say goodbye, proffering a handshake to James and a kiss on both cheeks for Ireland.
Jim drove to the nearby marina and rented a boat while she strolled up and down the dock, enjoying watching the bigger water craft slide in and out of their slips. She observed one family working the sails on a large boat. The father trained two sons, shouting instructions as a mother and daughter looked on. A handsome man with silver hair piloted a small yacht and gave her a playful wave, which she returned with enthusiasm.
"Making friends?" he asked, startling her.
"I hope so," she said with a sheepish smile.
"Come on. I've secured a vessel for us." His expression told her he was up to something. "It's nothing like that, of course," he said, jerking his thumb towards the sleek cruiser that just passed them.
He took her elbow and guided her to where the paddle boats bobbed up and down, moored to the pier. She burst out laughing when he intimated one would be their ship.
"What, not up to your standards?" he teased. He liked seeing her chuckle.
"Not up to yours, I think. You're the Navy man!" she said between giggles, stepping down into the small vessel and almost falling over when the wake of a slow-moving speed boat hit.
"Whoa, careful, Land Lover," James said, grabbing her by the waist.
Once he'd gotten her settled in a molded plastic seat, he untied the paddle boat and took his place. He glanced sideways at Ireland. She'd closed her eyes and seemed to be enjoying the sea breeze on her face.
"I won't be much help in the propulsion area," she said without raising her lids.
A sly grin spread across her countenance in spite of her efforts to keep a straight face.
"Yeah, well I guessed as much," he said, flashing her a look that feigned disapproval.
James worked the pedals in reverse as they bobbled away from the dock. A few yards out, he switched directions and the dinghy gradually made progress, slowed by the current and wakes from other boats.
"Want to tour the marina? Check out how the other half lives?" he asked.
"Aye, aye!" she said, giving him a mock salute.
They took in all the slips and observed everything from small, one-man sail boats to several large yachts. James explained the various features on the different craft and tried to quiz her later. She had none of it, responding to his questions with giggles or silly answers. He used a stern tone on her, but that didn't help either. She seemed to be having a really good time, which pleased him immensely.
"I'm done," he said, stretching his arms behind his head with a protracted yawn.
He'd paddled away from the docks, and the boat bobbed up and down, surrounded by water on every side. They'd been at it for a couple of hours, and now the late afternoon breeze kicked up as the sky clouded over.
"What do you mean you're done? We've got to get back to the pier," she said.
James reached for her and placed an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.
"I'm content right here," he whispered, giving her a squeeze.
She tried to pull away in order to scold him, but his grip was too firm. His breath on her neck sent electricity up her spine. Just as she started to panic, he pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms about her waist.
"Hey!" She squirmed.
"Shhh, Kumquat. Hold still and let me kiss you."
She risked a glimpse at him as he slid one hand up her back to the nape of her neck. His deep blue eyes glowed with an inner fire she'd never seen before as he fixed his gaze on her. He lowered his mouth, and she closed her eyes as he allowed his lips to linger, barely touching hers. Time seemed to stand still until he took her mouth in a full-on kiss. Rockets exploded in the girl's brain, and she forgot she was in a paddle boat in Oxnard Harbor. She thought her heart would pound right through her rib cage. Landi briefly tried to pull away, but he ignored her efforts, deepening their kiss and pulling her against his chest. She felt a growing passion course through her veins with each heartbeat.
Her world spun in circles as she fought to separate herself from him, at least mentally. It seemed to Ireland that they were becoming one person. His scent and touch combined to send her into a dizzying state. Even as her mind struggled, she felt herself melting against his hard muscles and returning his kisses. She felt one of his large, calloused hands on her throat as his thumb and forefinger held her face, while his other hand pressed against the small of her back, drawing her even closer to him. She'd wrapped her arms about his neck, instinct driving her actions, when she suddenly felt his whole body go taut.
James grabbed Landi's arms and pulled them from him, then placed her back in her own seat. His ragged breathing matched hers. She raised her fingers to her lips, and he saw the hurt look that passed over her countenance. It nearly broke him. He snatched the bandana from her head and ran his fingers through her hair, pulling her into one last kiss. He could tell she held back. She stiffened and gave him nothing like her previous passionate re
sponse.
"I had to stop before I got carried away, Ireland. I mean, before I got even more carried away," he said, releasing her at last.
He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, allowing them to linger on her neck before withdrawing. He straightened and resumed paddling, this time back to the dock. Several yards out, he stopped, allowing the boat to coast to the pier. James grabbed Landi's hand and turned to look her in the face.
"I'm crazy about you. You are unlike anyone I've ever met, Ireland, and I hope you'll be patient with me a while longer."
Before she could answer, he jumped from the dinghy and tied the vessel to the dock, utilizing its nylon rope. She looked at his outstretched arm, unable to quite believe his words. He flapped his hand, gesturing for her to come. She tentatively placed her small hand in his large paw when he yanked her from the boat, laughing.
"You aren't afraid of me now, are you?" he whispered.
His lips grazed her earlobe, sending an electric current through her body. She found herself tongue-tied for a moment.
"Yes, I am," she responded, nodding.
"Don't be, Darling."
On the ride back to Venice, he told her he'd come back to Southern California to stay. His company didn’t need him on the East Coast any longer, and he'd be getting some days off as soon as he finished his current assignment, which wouldn't take long. He told her he wanted to spend more time with her, away from Katrina's apartment. James declared that he wanted to date her. Ireland couldn’t believe that someone like James would choose to go out with someone like herself.
"Well?" he asked when she didn't respond.
"Well what?"
"I said, I think we should start seeing each other exclusively. I don't want you straying, Kumquat."
She let a smile escape her lips, and he saw it. His eyes lit up as soon as one corner of her mouth twitched north.
"Good. It's settled then," he said, pulling to a stop outside her apartment.
He leaned over and gave her another long, passionate kiss—one to remember him by later that night. He left her breathless.
Landi pulled herself from the car before he could get out. She held her hand up, motioning for him to stay put. She wanted to get out while she still could. His kisses were unlike anything she'd ever experienced, and she didn't trust herself alone with him, parked on a dark street. She smiled and trotted to her door, key in hand.
A Calculated Romance Page 13