Playing By Heart

by Melanie Shawn

  Mila laughed and returned to her friends, and Alison was left laughing awkwardly with Troy, wondering whether or not he was going to pick up such obvious bait, and hoping and praying that he would.

  Chapter 18

  The sound of crickets filled the air as Alison and Troy strolled down Main Street, which would’ve been beautiful enough, but when combined with the muted sound of waves crashing on the beach two blocks away and the sensation of the warm summer breeze lightly ruffling her hair, it was just about paradise.

  Alison glanced shyly over at Troy walking beside her; his eyes were fixed on his shoes and his hands were pushed firmly into his pockets. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was as nervous as she was.

  She didn’t know what it was, but she felt like a teenager being walked home after a first date, nervous about whether or not she’d get a kiss goodnight. There was just something so nostalgic in the air. Something about this quaint town and the goodhearted people here that made her feel fresh, and young, and goodhearted herself. Everything jaded about her seemed to be falling away as the days passed by.

  More and more, this place felt good and right. Like home. And, although it scared her to admit it to herself, so did Troy.

  Just then, he glanced her way, and they locked eyes. Alison’s cheeks started to burn and a tingling numbness spread over her face as she looked into their endless depths. He smiled at her, and it wasn’t the oily “smooth operator” kind of smile that a guy might’ve used back in New York. It was a sincere expression of emotion. He was happy to be with her, and it couldn’t help but come out on his face.

  She liked that. God, she’d needed that, and she hadn’t even known it.

  “So, did you have fun?” he asked. His face was guileless and hopeful as he made the inquiry. He was so open about how much he wanted her to have enjoyed it. No game playing. Just honesty.

  She melted a little inside.

  Then, she actually had to tear her eyes away from his because she couldn’t handle the intensity. As much as she was enjoying Troy’s “realness,” she was also uncomfortable when it was a little bit too real.

  Seeking to lighten the mood, she said, “So, um… I have to ask you something. And I want you to be honest.”

  “Anything,” he said immediately.

  With a sly smile, she teased, “So, just so we’re clear, is Mila spending the night with her friend tomorrow? Or not? Because I didn’t quite catch it.”

  Troy burst out laughing. “You really had me going there. I thought this was going to be some serious talk.”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “I had to pay you back for the Yoko comment! Did you think I was a crappy actress?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t know you were that good.”

  As he said the words, he took her hand. It was such a simple gesture, but one that sent warmth flowing through her entire body and soul. Emotions welled up inside her, making her feel safe and content—like she was curled up in front of a fire while wrapped in a fuzzy buttery-soft chenille spread and she’d just taken a generous sip of a hot toddy.

  She was glad she felt so safe; she needed that foundation of safety to muster up the courage for what she was about to do.

  With her heart in her throat, she took the plunge. Her voice trembling only a little, she asked, “So, would you like to come over to my house for dinner tomorrow night? Since, you know, rumor has it that Mila will be at a friend’s house. That’s just what I’ve heard, anyway. Word on the street.”

  He squeezed her hand. It sent tiny jolts skittering up her arm and sent her head spinning.

  “Yes. I’d love to.”

  “What?” she asked, her voice sounding zoned out and faraway. That hand squeeze had put her in her trance, and for the moment she couldn’t even remember what he was answering yes to.

  “Yes, I’d love to come to dinner at your house. That is what you asked me, isn’t it?”

  Her brain cleared itself and she was flustered with embarrassment at her moment of lust induced flightiness. “Oh. Right. Yes. Yes, of course.”

  One look at his face, and the cocky smile dominating it, told her he knew exactly what had caused her to lose the thread of the conversation. And he was damn proud of himself for it.

  She giggled as she reached across with the hand he wasn’t holding and swatted his shoulder. “Whatever! Be there at seven.”

  She liked having to figure out slightly awkward ways of doing things with one hand because Troy was holding the other. She thought that she could get used to that pretty easily.

  They turned off the Main Street and headed down the narrow, tree-lined street that, in half a mile, would reach the bluff cul-de-sac that her house sat on. Already, she felt the warning pangs of melancholy that told her she’d be saying goodbye to Troy soon.

  But only until tomorrow, she reminded herself, and felt that warm glow that always enveloped her when she was with him reassert itself.

  “Oh, and yes… I did have a good time tonight. A great time, actually.”

  “Good. See, I told you softball wasn’t that hard.”

  “Oh, no. That part was terrible.” She laughed. “Horrible. Not the game itself, I guess. Just my skill level. In fact, I’m pretty impressed with everybody for not just booting me right off of your team after my first attempt at batting.”

  Troy chuckled. “I’m sure somebody’ll find that ball someday.”

  “But what I liked—no, what I loved—was hanging out with your friends… during the game and especially afterward. They’re a really fun group.”

  “Yeah, they are,” he said, pride and affection in his voice as he talked about his friends. “And I think it’s pretty safe to call them your friends, too, at this point. You were a big hit.”

  “You think?” she asked hopefully.

  “I know.”

  His answer was so immediate and assured that she felt comfortable believing him. It made her happy, and it was just one more thing that made the place feel a bit more like home.

  They climbed the steps to her porch, and she wondered if they were caught up in some kind of glitch in the space-time continuum. It had felt like just a few fleeting seconds since she and Troy had stepped out of Cupid’s Arrow. Yet, in another sense, it also felt like forever.

  They stopped at her door and faced each other.

  Should I invite him in? Is that what he expects? What’s the protocol, here?

  She hadn’t been walked home by a date since she was sixteen years old. It was fair to say she was a little out of practice.

  Just as she was about to get truly nervous, though, Troy took control of the situation. Like a true gentleman, he put his hand on her waist and leaned down to give her a kiss.

  It was a perfect kiss in every way—sweet but not too sweet, passionate but not too passionate. It was her dream kiss, and if one of her playwright friends had written the scene for her, they couldn’t have crafted it with any more emotion or impact than it had.

  When he pulled back, he brushed her hair from her face and gave her a heart-stopping smile. “See you tomorrow night.”

  His voice was low and sexy, and his lips had been warm and sweet, and she’d never been more anxious for a twenty-four-hour period to hurry up and pass.

  Chapter 19

  Troy stepped up to Alison’s door and knocked. That particular sound, against that particular door, had become his favorite thing in the world. It was like Pavlov’s dogs. It got him drooling—told his brain that awesome, delicious things were coming his way, and soon.

  Tonight was the night. The first time he’d be spending true one-on-one alone time with Alison. He was excited. He was looking forward to it. He felt that the night held a lot of beautiful possibilities.

  Most of all, though? He just didn’t want to screw it up.

  The door opened and his eyes widened.

  Alison stood there, framed by the soft pastel light filling the room through the wall of windows behind her, as the sun set over the ocean
. Troy was sure he’d never seen a lovelier picture in his entire life.

  Her hair fell gently around her shoulders. Her skin glowed with a soft light of its own.

  God. This was a woman who didn’t need make-up, didn’t need fancy clothes. Her natural beauty was far more stunning than any adornment could possibly be.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, and he didn’t even realize his throat had constricted until he heard the strangled sound of his own voice as it came out of his mouth. It didn’t even feel like him talking. It felt like he was watching a stranger who looked a lot like him croak out the words.

  So much for not fucking it up. How’s that going?

  She smiled, took his hand, and led him inside. “Come in,” she said, and her sultry voice told him he hadn’t fucked it up too badly.

  “That smells delicious.”

  She crossed to the oven and opened it a crack, gazing inside intently. “Hmmm…looks like we have about ten more minutes until my famous lasagna’s ready. Care for a glass of wine?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “White or red?”

  “Red, thanks.”

  She pulled two wine glasses out of the cabinet and poured deep, rich, jewel-toned wine into each of them. Troy watched the liquid spill into the glasses, glinting in the light as it tumbled over itself.

  She handed him his glass, and he swirled it and held it up to his nose. The thick aroma of tannins joined the tomato and cheese smell, leaving him feeling like he was in a five-star restaurant instead of Alison’s kitchen.

  Given the choice, he would’ve picked Alison’s kitchen all day, every day.

  “So, what makes it famous?”

  She smiled and tilted her head cutely to the side, eyebrows twitching. God, she was adorable. “Excuse me?”

  “The lasagna. What makes it famous?”

  She laughed. “It’s basically the only thing I can make. I’m pretty much this lasagna’s one-man PR team.”

  “Well, it smells amazing. I guess that’s proof that PR flacks don’t always lie?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  “True.”

  She stepped closer to him. “A toast. To a lovely evening.”

  He clinked his glass to hers, leaning in and whispering seductively, “And an even lovelier host.”

  He’d placed his hand on her waist and felt her skin tremble beneath his fingertips. God, it was amazing—the connection between the words he’d spoken and the physical reaction she had. Just his voice was enough to send tremors running through her body.

  She lifted her chin to look directly into his eyes, lust sparking clearer than anything he’d ever seen before.

  He lifted his hand and ran his fingertips ever so lightly down her jawline, tracing his thumb across her cheek, until he’d cupped her chin in his hand. Without tearing his eyes from hers, he placed his wineglass gently on the counter, then took hers from her shaking hand and set it next to his.

  “I’m not gonna lie,” she whispered. “That was sexy as hell.”

  Without another word, he crushed his lips to hers. He couldn’t wait even one more minute to explore her mouth with his tongue, to taste her lips that were sweeter and more potent than any wine that could’ve been in that glass.

  Bottom line—he had to have her, and he had to have her right then and there.

  Chapter 20

  Troy’s lips moving against hers, his hands roaming everywhere on her body, inspired a wildness in Alison that was completely new. She was wanton in that moment; there was no other word for it. Inhibitions flew out the window. There was no window, in fact, because windows led to the rest of the world, and the rest of the world simply didn’t exist.

  She needed this. She needed him. There had been a simmering heat between the two of them since the moment they’d met, and in some corner of her brain, the clock had been ticking down each second until this inevitable moment.

  Now that it was here, she could hardly contain her excitement. And her pleasure. Oh, God, the pleasure. It flowed through her veins like lava—hot and slow and languid but steadily building to a pressure-releasing explosion.

  She couldn’t get over how strong his arms felt around her, and how tiny and delicate she felt in them. She’d always been independent and adventurous. She’d never been the type of person to want to feel “safe.”

  But, she couldn’t deny it—with Troy’s arms around her, she was enveloped in a cloud of comfort and safety that she wouldn’t have traded for anything else in that moment. She felt free, like she could just relax and be, and Troy would take care of everything else.

  She didn’t need to be strong anymore. She didn’t need to hold up that exhausting façade. She could rest in Troy’s strength and trust that he’d protect her with everything in him.

  It was that very trust and freedom that left her totally uninhibited and unfettered with him. There was not even a hint of self-consciousness in her manner as she thought about taking off her clothes and taking off his. Of using her body to give him pleasure and accepting the pleasure that his body gave her in return. With Troy, it wasn’t about how things looked, or performing perfectly, or being “good.” It was about one thing and one thing only—connecting with him and expressing her feelings for him, and there was no wrong way to do that. Everything about it was right.

  He plunged his tongue into her mouth, exploring every inch, and she returned the gesture. She felt so connected when they kissed like this, like they were more than just two people sharing the act of a kiss. It felt like their lips, their tongues, were conduits for the energy that flowed back and forth between them like a river.

  In this moment, she could see blowing up her life to chase the feeling that was consuming her right now. She understood the compulsion people felt to follow someone halfway across the world if the opportunity presented itself—she was pretty sure if Troy asked her to get on a plane with him tomorrow to Timbuktu, she would cheerfully agree. It was like being under a spell, and she was in no hurry for the magic to be broken.

  Troy, in his insistent but unhurried way, slipped his fingers underneath the hem of her blouse and then up her torso, leaving white-hot trails of tingling flesh in his wake. She tore her mouth from the intoxicating kiss just long enough to moan and whimper, and then she was on him again like a panther.

  She was so wet and ready for this to happen. There was a heavy, deep throbbing that had taken residence low in her belly, and it was a constant reminder of the need to feel Troy there. It was all she could do to control herself. She had a strong urge to desperately beg him to skip all of the lead up, as insanely good as it felt, and just take her upstairs and ravage her right then and there.

  She knew that wasn’t what she really wanted—when she looked back on the memory of this night, the first time she and Troy were ever together, that wasn’t the special connection she would wish to treasure in her heart forever.

  But God, it was sure as hell what her body wanted.

  Troy grabbed her shirt by the bottom hem and whipped it off of her body so quickly that it left her head spinning. She suddenly became hyper aware of every sensation in her body. The breeze on her newly exposed cleavage, the featherlight tickle of each strand as her hair settled back down her shoulders—every whisper of anything against her skin just served to ratchet up her arousal even more.

  Troy’s eyes took her in from top to bottom, raking over her and drinking in what he saw. The hunger and raw animal lust smoldering behind them made her weak in the knees, and she actually had to reach out to grab a chair to steady herself.

  That made him grin, and he took the opportunity to step forward and sweep her up off her feet. She gasped at the sudden weightlessness, but it didn’t take her long to get used to it. The fact that Troy could handle her so effortlessly, as if she weighed no more than a doll, only highlighted how strong he was and how delicate she felt in his arms.

  God, she never thought of herself as the kind of woman who
’d be susceptible to the charms of “a big strong man” protecting her and taking care of her—but, apparently, that just meant she hadn’t known herself very well because HOLY. FUCK. This was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.

  Troy stared straight into her eyes, as if he was looking beyond the dark orbs and seeing straight into her soul. Finally, he said, “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are in my eyes?”

  “No,” she whispered. It felt like a strange response to her, but it was certainly honest.

  “I see you, Alison. I see more than just the beautiful actress and singer the world sees. You show me more than that—your compassion, your incredible heart. It’s an honor you let me in. And, goddamn, it’s so fucking beautiful.”

  She melted against him. Troy was full of surprises. It seemed like she learned something new and amazing about him every day… and now she knew he was skilled at eloquently speaking from his heart.

  She felt like she’d had this thought about so many things that he’d done tonight, but damn, even if it wasn’t original it applied again—this was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.

  “Oh, Troy. I’m feeling so many things right now, and I want to put them into words that are just as lovely and heartfelt as the ones you just said to me. But the only thing I can think of to say is—please just take me upstairs right now. Make love to me. I need to feel you inside me.”

  He groaned and closed his eyes, then kissed her, hard and passionate. When he drew back, his gaze was consumed with lust and his voice was raspy as he said, “Damn, baby. That’s the best thing you could’ve said to me. It was beautiful. Trust me.”

  She giggled as he carried her up the stairs, and her laughter was tinged with just a touch of hysteria. She couldn’t believe this was really about to happen. Troy’s hands were going to be on her body, everywhere. Troy’s lips were going to explore her secret folds. And then he’d push himself inside of her, connecting them more profoundly than ever before.