Like Jazz

by Heather Blackmore

  “Oh, it’s flattering all right. But that’s the understatement of the year. You’re stunning.”

  I stared at her, wondering how this beautiful woman in this incredible dress that accentuated her curves and the glorious triumvirate of her arms, neck, and shoulders could say I was the one who was stunning.

  Emboldened by the compliment and stirred by her honesty and concern for my feelings, I stepped toward her and took one of her hands in both of mine. I brought it to my mouth and slowly kissed each knuckle, lightly brushing them with my tongue, never taking my eyes off hers. I turned her hand over and gently kissed her palm before holding it in my hands.

  I continued to look into her surprised eyes. “I can’t interest you in something that might evolve into more than a momentary distraction? It might not, you know. It might end tonight. You don’t have to promise anything more than a willingness to keep the door open to the possibility.”

  I searched for a hidden passage that would take me past her defenses, but Sarah pulled her hand away, drew her arms around her waist protectively, and moved away, no longer willing to meet my eyes. I could tell from her body language she was emotionally as well as physically withdrawing from me, and my stomach tightened at the thought of losing our closeness. I was grasping.

  “Then what if I throw caution to the wind and decide I want to be your distraction for the night anyway? No promises. Nobody gets hurt.”

  She shook her head and took a deep breath. She turned to me with a serious expression that seemed laden with regret.

  “You could never be that to me.”

  Her words threw me into an untenable position. She wouldn’t give us a chance at something beyond one night or accept me as a plaything for an evening’s romp.

  “Damn it, Sarah! What? You wanted to see what was between us long enough to confirm it might be something special so you could run as fast and far away from it as possible?” I stepped into her personal space and glared at her, demanding an explanation.

  She stayed in place and spoke in a flat tone. “You’re right. This was a mistake. I’m sorry I dragged you up here.”

  Great. Now she was apologizing. I wasn’t getting anywhere. Though stunned by the whiplash I’d just experienced going from the fierce heat of our connected bodies to the cool distance of the indifference she projected, I wasn’t sorry she’d brought me here. The miles that suddenly seemed to separate us disappointed me, but she’d breathed life into every nerve ending in my body and instilled within me a longing I was loath to lose, a hope I wasn’t ready to sever. I softened and sighed.

  “I’m not sorry.” I reached out, holding her shoulders since her arms remained crossed. I slowly kissed her right temple, right cheek, the tender skin below her right ear, and her chin, then mirrored the same kisses on her left side. As I used my tongue, lips, and teeth against the delicate skin below her ear, she released some tension. I delivered soft, caressing kisses on her delectable neck, moving under her chin to give each side equal consideration, while tracing my hands along her sides and stomach.

  She let out a low moan as she tilted her head back to give me greater access and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “This is not helping to shore up my resolve.” Her voice was thick, irresistible.

  Lifting my gaze to meet hers and bringing my arms around her waist, I said, “Perfectly harmless,” before moving my mouth over hers.

  We kissed tenderly, exploring each other with sweet abandon, and I marveled at the wealth of emotion and need that can be communicated by soft, moist lips touching. The underlying intimacy between us made me feel slightly scared yet inexplicably and entirely full—a kind of soaring and belonging. If she was feeling half the things I felt, I knew—well, hoped—she wouldn’t close the door on us forever. So I was willing to lose round one of what I hoped would be a contest that would go the distance—at least a further distance.

  I forced myself to pull back, still holding her waist. Light-blue eyes slowly greeted me from behind long eyelashes. “Okay,” I said. “We’ll compromise.” Sarah raised her left eyebrow in that trademark curious, questioning expression of hers. “I leave, and you don’t consider this a mistake.”

  She shook her head slightly and sighed, removing her arms from around my shoulders and holding me at my hips instead. She wasn’t jumping at my offer.

  “Maybe it’s not a mistake. Yet.” She said it as if it were inevitable.

  “What makes you think it will be? Am I so horrible?” Did Sarah find something frightening about me? Maybe the fact that I was a woman? Various emotions played across her face: fear, arousal, determination.

  She finally answered by plastering me against the door and kissing me so thoroughly my head swam. When she eventually broke the kiss, gently tugging my bottom lip with her teeth before releasing me, I was breathless and overwhelmed with sensation. She trailed her long fingers down my arms until she held my hands with hers, lightly rubbing my palms with her thumbs.

  “That’s the trouble. You’re completely irresistible,” she said. She smiled as she took her hand and brushed the hair from my forehead, then traced my cheek with the back of her fingers. She turned her palm and cupped my cheek, regarding me with utter tenderness. I wondered at the emotion in her eyes. “You scare me, the way you make me feel,” she said softly.

  She had rendered me so powerless with her kisses I could barely make out what she was saying, dazed as I was from desire. Then her smile faded and her expression turned sad. A hint of liquid appeared in her eyes, and I quickly roused myself from my lust-filled haze.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, trying to read her thoughts.

  She immediately willed away her vulnerability and stiffened, her eyes suddenly dry. “First of all, you don’t know that. And second, I might hurt you. I really have no desire for either of those things to occur.”

  “I’m willing to take the risk.” Where was my courage coming from? I never believed I’d ever be this close to Sarah to disclose such a thought, let alone be so certain of my willingness to open myself up to potential devastation.

  “I’m not.” With that succinct declaration, she moved away from me and averted her eyes. She straightened out her dress. “I have to get back,” she said, her voice catching. She reached for the door.

  “Wait.” I put my hand on hers and pulled it away from the handle. I didn’t understand what she was so afraid of and needed to know. “Sarah, please.”

  She lifted her eyes to me briefly, and the anguish in them terrified me. Whatever I was doing to Sarah, I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to hurt her, yet the only thing reflected back at me was pain. She quickly opened the door.

  “I need to see to my guests.” She swept past me into the hallway.

  Her abrupt departure and tormented countenance left me baffled. I couldn’t shift my focus to the surrounding hotel room for several moments. When its purpose occurred to me, I was suddenly the one fighting back tears. I was distressing Sarah in a way I couldn’t comprehend, and she was upsetting me with her preparations for a night of…ugh. I didn’t want to think about it. There was little chance of that, but remaining in this rendezvous chamber sure wasn’t helping, so I left.

  *

  I got home after two o’clock in the morning, having stayed until the end of the event after feeling an unexpected obligation to the Foundation to be pleasant company to any attendees desiring small talk. And who was I kidding? I also stayed because I was desperate to lay claim to more time with a certain gorgeous woman promenading among the guests in a striking red dress. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get any more time with Sarah without appearing as desperate as I felt. Instead, the pretty, petite blonde cornered me twice more during the evening, going so far as to hand me a business card and suggest we have dinner soon.

  Once I was through my apartment door, I immediately kicked off my heels, then unzipped and stepped out of my dress, all the while walking toward my bedroom. I threw on a T-shirt, jumped onto my bed, and screame
d into my pillow. The idea that someone else might be sharing hotel room 2214 with Sarah was maddening, disheartening, unthinkable. How could she be so callous as to let me know why she’d gotten a room? She hadn’t intended to tell me, but it wasn’t my fault she decided to kiss me.

  And what kisses they were. Merely recalling her luscious mouth on mine made me tremble. God, the things she made me feel. How could she go from that—from what we shared together—to getting it on with some stranger? And if that wasn’t bad enough, why did she appear so distraught when she said she wasn’t willing to take a risk with me? Did she want to but felt conflicted? Was she saying in broad terms that she couldn’t get hurt again, or was she saying specifically she couldn’t get hurt again by me?

  She couldn’t possibly be talking about high school. Could she? It had broken my heart to leave Claiborne. To leave Sarah. It had taken years, Alex, and a couple of short-lived relationships with women for me to understand, in hindsight, that I’d fallen madly in love with Sarah in high school. But even at the time, before the lightbulb went off, there was only Sarah.

  Only ever Sarah.

  I’d been forced to abandon my feelings for her and my connection to her when my parents moved us to Texas. Of course, all those old feelings were now bubbling up inside me and threatening to turn my world upside down again because I was clearly never going to get over loving Sarah. But surely that was my issue, not hers. After all, she’d been going steady with Dirk the entire time we’d known each other in our youth.

  Though tonight confirmed we were attracted to each other, did she ever think about me the way I thought about her back then and all the years in between?

  No, that wasn’t possible. I was certain my feelings for her were different than anything I’d ever known. But it never occurred to me she could feel similarly. That couldn’t be it.

  My cell phone rang. Who the hell was calling at this hour? I ran down the hall and pulled the phone from my purse but didn’t recognize the number.

  “Hello.” My sharp tone belied the greeting.

  “Why so grumpy?” Sarah asked. “You’re not the one sitting all alone in a fancy hotel room.”

  “You’re alone?”

  “Yes.”

  I exhaled a sigh of relief. “Why are you telling me this?” Several moments of silence followed and I wasn’t sure if our call had been dropped.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Sarah said. “Some part of me wanted you to know.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “That I told you, or that I’m alone?”

  “Both. Definitely glad you’re alone.” After a moment, I said, “No, I take that back. I’d rather you weren’t alone.” I wanted to be with her.

  “Isn’t that a mixed message?”

  By phoning, she’d taken a risk. It was my turn. I decided to be direct. “Let me clarify. I don’t want you to be alone tonight. I’d rather you were with me. But I don’t care if that means we stay up all night drinking coffee and playing Monopoly, or drive to the beach and listen to the ocean while we talk about our hopes and dreams, or play truth or dare until I learn all your secrets and fantasies, or rip each other’s clothes off and make love until we’re blissfully exhausted. I want to spend time with you, Sarah. I want to know you in every way imaginable.

  “And you were right. I shouldn’t have said I’m not going to hurt you. What I should have said was: I’d never hurt you on purpose. It’s up to you whether I could ever get close enough to hurt you, but maybe it’s up to me to prove to you it’s a chance worth taking.”

  I don’t know why I felt the need to say all that—not at that moment, anyway—and the extended silence on the line made me feel extremely exposed and not a little terrified. The words were out now and couldn’t be recalled. Fear crawled up my spine. I’d gone too far, too fast. Pushed too soon. Revealed too much.

  When Sarah still said nothing, I laughed uneasily. “Isn’t this where you’re supposed to act like you didn’t hear me and say, ‘Cazz? Hello? Are you there? Cazz? Can you hear me?’”

  Sarah chuckled softly. “Sorry. I heard you. I…I don’t know what to say. I got stuck on the part about ripping each other’s clothes off and had trouble concentrating on the rest.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. She could have left me to suffer with my anxiety, but instead she’d chosen to keep the lines of communication open by allowing a trace of flirtatiousness through.

  “I’m kidding,” Sarah said. “I did hear you. I don’t want to hurt you either, but I don’t think I can give you what you’re asking.”

  “I haven’t asked anything yet, but now that you mention it, I am going to ask for something.”

  A few quiet moments elapsed and Sarah’s voice came across the line. “Hello? Cazz? Can you hear me?”

  “Very funny, Perkins.”

  Sarah chuckled again. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” I heard her exhale. “Okay. Ask away.”

  “Please don’t avoid me. That’s all I ask.”

  She barked a laugh. “It’s funny you’d say that.”

  “Why is that funny?”

  In a low and sultry voice, Sarah replied, “I don’t think I can stay away.”

  It was a dream, hearing those words, and suddenly I was floating from relief and happiness. I couldn’t think of anything to say except to thank God, when her voice came back over the line.

  “Good night, Cazz.”

  “Night, Sarah.”

  I hit the button to end the call and set the phone down. I had to smile. She was still torturing me by not being with me, but at least she wasn’t tormenting me by letting me think she was with someone else.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Saturday morning—rather, later that morning—I awoke, consumed by thoughts of Sarah. I wanted to spend every waking hour with her (though I’d hardly mind the sleeping ones, too). On a whim, after my morning spin class, I called her around eleven.

  She answered her mobile phone. “Hello?”

  “I don’t suppose you’re free this fine afternoon?”

  “My plans got cancelled an hour ago, unfortunately. Why?” She sounded a little down.

  “And tonight?”

  “Same.”

  “What’s wrong? You sound bummed.”

  “I am. I was supposed to do eighteen holes with the CEO of Pipeline Technologies but he sprained his wrist, and the other two from our foursome opted for a shorter day playing tennis instead.”

  I pounced on the opportunity. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at one.”

  Silence on the line. Finally, Sarah spoke. “Cazz, I’m in a foul mood. I’ve been trying to get on this guy’s calendar for months. Pipeline donates one percent of its profits to foundations like ours, and I want Kindle Hope to be one of its three charity beneficiaries. Let’s do this another time.”

  “Trust me, I have the perfect thing for you. One o’clock. Grab some lunch, and be sure to wear comfortable clothes and shoes. And sunscreen.” I hung up. If she truly wanted to be left alone to sulk, she’d call back and tell me. But the phone didn’t ring, and after several minutes of waiting, my ears lifted in a telltale sign of the huge grin on my face.

  Sarah was ready to go when she opened the door at one. She wore a white, sleeveless blouse over low-rise, sycamore-colored chinos. With a matching cardigan tucked under her arm and her hair in a loose ponytail, she was adorable yet sexy. She locked the front door and followed me to my Toyota.

  We didn’t speak much as we made our way down a blessedly traffic-free I-5. Sarah spent most of the drive with her eyes hidden behind sunglasses and her head against the headrest. It was a long drive, but rather than complain or require I reveal our destination, she seemed comfortable letting me lead. I exited on Disneyland Drive and continued until I found parking. Sarah took all this in and finally graced me with a smile, lifting herself out of her funk.

  “It’s better at night, but it’s still fun during the day. You’ve been to the Downtown Disney District, right?” I asked. />
  “I have. I love it.”

  “I thought we could wander around, shop, snack, whatever. And if you’re up for it, we could go on a few of the rides across the way.” I tried to read the appeal of that suggestion by her expression.

  “Kind of expensive for an afternoon, isn’t it?”

  I smiled sheepishly. “I splurged a few months back and bought an annual passport. And they were having a special when I bought it, so I have a free ticket.” I pulled the ticket out of my back pocket and handed it to her.

  She didn’t take it, instead removing her purse from her shoulder and rifling through it. She extracted a card from her wallet. “I have one, too,” she said, and smiled as sheepishly as I had. “Guilty pleasure.”

  “Favorites?” I returned the ticket to my pocket.

  “Of course. You say one and I’ll say one.” She lifted her left eyebrow as the right side of her mouth curled up mischievously.

  I felt like I was back in high school, but in a good way. “Space Mountain, obviously,” I said.

  “Matterhorn,” she replied.

  “Haunted Mansion.”

  “Pirates!”

  “Old school of me, I know, but those are my top four.” I shrugged.

  “Mine, too.”

  “Shop first, or ride first?”

  “Shop, of course!” She laced her arm through mine at the elbow and started us down the lane.

  The afternoon was perfect. We were like two kids, pointing and giggling, each occasionally eagerly pulling the other by the hand toward a destination of particular interest. We got lucky with the lines for our favorite rides and even went through Space Mountain twice using the FASTPASS system. We goofed around with Winnie the Pooh characters in Critter Country, enjoyed espresso and beignets in New Orleans Square, and shopped along Main Street USA. We even helped a lost child find her extremely worried parents.

  Sarah had spotted the little girl crying outside Café Orleans after we left Pirates of the Caribbean. Sarah squatted next to her and asked if she was lost. The little girl nodded and rubbed her wet, red eyes with her knuckles.