What Love Looks Like

by Lara Mondoux

  “I guess that if you really think you’re ready, now would be okay. He’s proven himself by my standards.”

  “He’s more than proven himself. He’s literally the ideal gentleman. I’m here to tell you chivalry is not dead. In fact, I think Ryan invented it.”

  “Just be careful. You got hurt last time, and I don’t want that happening again.”

  “Ryan’s different.”

  “You said that about Jay,” Maureen said, “and he turned out to be the same as every other douche bag out there.”

  “No, Ryan’s really different. I’ll admit, I was love-struck with Jay. Obsessive, stupid, puppy love shit. I wanted him so badly that I couldn’t see straight. He was like crack to me. But with Ryan, I’ve been able to hold out. And I’m so glad I have because he’s the real deal. Totally worth the wait.”

  “Okay, honey, you have my blessing to get busy with Adler.” Maureen cheerfully shuffled through a filing cabinet.

  “Yay! Thank you!”

  I headed back to my office where I counted down the minutes until closing time. At six o’clock, a feeling of utter bliss set in. I was a mere day and a half away from having sex with Ryan. I’d never been with anyone as big and strong as he was, and I couldn’t wait to see what it felt like. I imagined that everything about him would be proportionate to his size, and even though I was alone, I blushed at the thought.

  Only Saturday stood between our consummating our relationship. Ryan would be working all day and our rendezvous wouldn’t commence until early Sunday afternoon. That was fine because it gave me an extra night’s beauty rest to be at my absolute freshest for him.

  I agreed to spend another Saturday for a long overdue visit at my parents’ house, and to help my mother get her garden ready for the summer. The day was beautiful, a perfect seventy-two degrees and not a cloud in the sky. After arriving with Luna, I was immediately put to work. I found my brother and sister-in-law already hard at work pulling weeds. The afternoon flew by in the garden, and I actually enjoyed myself. It was peaceful to work with my hands instead of my brain for once.

  At five o’clock, Max, Emily, Kate, and I opened a bottle of wine to unwind. Our hands and clothes were covered in dirt after our day of digging and sweating. My mother and father were still in the garden and refused to quit until the very last ounce of work was complete. Evidently, my work ethic was genetic. Seeing the finished garden with all of its new flowers in bloom and feeling that we’d created something beautiful was very satisfying, and quite a departure from filling out spreadsheets and sending countless emails to people I’d never meet in the flesh. I was just waiting for someone to ask about my love life when my sister-in-law spoke up.

  “So Elle, do you have a new man yet?” Kate asked. “You’ve been MIA again, which usually means you’ve met someone.”

  “As a matter of fact I do,” I said, ignoring the second part of her comment.

  “What?” Emily gasped. “Who is he?”

  “A guy I work with named Ryan.”

  “Ooh, what’s he like?” Kate asked. My brother sat next to her silently, so reminiscent of my father, who preferred not to know the intimate details of our love lives.

  “He’s tall and so sweet—so unlike Jay Conrad.”

  “Is Ryan the guy who manages the downtown restaurant?” Emily asked.

  “Yes.”

  “He’s good-looking,” Emily told Kate. I couldn’t recall when Emily and Ryan had met before, but it was probably one of the nights that she and her boyfriend met their friends for drinks at the restaurant. She always dropped my name whenever she was there, and Ryan always took care of the families of East Coast associates.

  “Have you slept with him yet?” Kate asked.

  “Ah! I don’t want to hear this crap!” Max covered his ears with his hands and walked away. I quickly looked around for my parents, who were nowhere in sight.

  “No,” I said loudly, hoping my brother heard from the other room. I simultaneously hoped that my father wasn’t within earshot. “Not yet. But I’m planning to tomorrow.”

  “You’re planning it?” my sister asked. “Does he know that?”

  “No, I’m just going to go for it. It’s been long enough.”

  “Well, good luck to you,” Emily said, as if I were headed to war.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said.

  “We just sat down,” Kate said.

  “Yeah, but I just remembered that I desperately need a bikini wax.”

  I scooped up Luna, who’d fallen asleep on my lap after a tiring day of playing outside, and called my salon from the car. The aesthetician squeezed me in at the very end of her day for a full Brazilian, brow, and lip wax. Afterwards I rushed home and painted my nails and buffed the soles of my feet. I deep-conditioned my hair and packed a bag of goodies for our first night together: satin nightie, lavender massage oil, and a condom—just in case he didn’t have one.

  The next day I awoke ready to rock Ryan’s world. I was smooth as a baby’s bottom between my legs. My hair was silky, and the dark circles under my eyes had faded. The Short North was a nuthouse every day in the summer, and that morning was no different. People started drinking early in the day, especially on holiday weekends. From outside my window, I saw patios starting to fill up. It wasn’t even noon, and the streets were already lined with eager faces. Luna and I fought the masses and headed toward our car.

  When we arrived at Ryan’s three-story condo, Luna bounded through it with enthusiasm, while Woody calmly observed her sniffing everything in sight in his territory (and thankfully not marking anything as her own). Woody sniffed Luna’s rear gently, which she allowed, and I was relieved to see that he was a tender giant compared to my tiny ball of energy.

  It was warm outside, close to eighty degrees, and Ryan was in the kitchen peeking into his refrigerator when I walked up to the second floor.

  “Hi, beautiful,” he said. I couldn’t recall if he’d called me that before, but I liked it and hoped that he’d keep it up.

  “Hi there. Looks like the dogs are getting along famously.”

  “I knew they would.” He came to me and kissed my lips. “So you want to go have some fun?”

  “Sure.” I wondered if he had in mind the same thing I did: the two of us naked between his sheets.

  “Aren’t you even going to ask where we’re going?”

  “No, I trust you,” I said, to which he smiled.

  We let the dogs get a little more acquainted before putting them in two separate rooms just for the short time that we were out. It was too soon to leave the massive German shepherd alone with the tiny terrier. We hopped into Ryan’s car, and he drove us east. We traveled about fifteen minutes and left urban living for a rural oasis of green. There was something I loved about the country; maybe it reminded me of home. We pulled up to a barn with a large sign that read Carson’s Fruit Farm. I still hadn’t asked him where we were going.

  “I thought we would go berry picking,” he said.

  “Oh.” I was a little nervous. I hated doing anything that might make me look stupid, and bending down in a fruit orchard wasn’t the quickest way to turn a man on. Given my total lack of coordination, climbing through bushes to pick raspberries qualified as foolish. I would have fared much better in a dark bar over cocktails.

  “What, you don’t like fruit? They grow apples here too, but they’re not in season. I thought we could make a berry pie later.”

  It was so sweet and innocent of him to come up with such an itinerary, and so refreshing to have a plan for our afternoon that didn’t consist of alcohol and sex. And for that reason, I chose to leave my ego at the door and pick berries as gracefully as you could with two left feet.

  I stumbled through the tangled berry bushes, just adjacent to the apple orchard. I didn’t take in at first how breathtaking the farm was because I was trying not to trip on the roots of the glorious trees and bushes before me. The new crop of fruit brought a sense of rebirth to the air. After filli
ng two baskets with raspberries, we wandered over to the apple orchard, completely ignoring the signs that read APPLES NOT RIPE FOR PICKING. The sun was a rich amber color, and the leaves had really filled in on the apple trees, which were covered in tiny gold and red apples. The ground was littered with those that would never make it to full maturity.

  There were a few other families at the farm with children, but due to the season they were all near the berry bushes, leaving the apple orchard deserted. I weaved in and out of the rows upon rows of apple trees and nearly lost sight of Ryan, who, at his height, could reach the tops of some of the trees and inspect the unripe fruit. I bit into one of the apples, which was still bitter and probably wouldn’t be edible for another couple of months. It was still delicious in its own way and reminded me of the time of year I so adored: gorgeous fall that led into breathtaking winter. This was the perfect outing for Ryan and me. And while it wasn’t official, he certainly felt like my boyfriend.

  “Taste one. They’re good, just a little bit sour,” I said as he approached me.

  Nodding in agreement, he bit into a Gold Rush apple. “See, I told you this would be fun.”

  “You were right. And at first I didn’t want to come, but I’m glad we did. It’s beautiful out here.”

  “You’re even more gorgeous in this light, if that’s possible.”

  I blushed. While he’d been nothing but a gentleman, he’d yet to get really sappy. I smiled and looked away. He gently took me by the chin and pulled my face back into line with his and kissed me sweetly on the lips. He tasted like the apple he’d bit into, sweet and pure. Being with him during the day seemed to solidify something, making our connection an actual relationship and not just a brief affair that took place after the sun went down.

  “I am falling for you, Elle. I’m totally into you.”

  “Oh,” I said stupidly.

  “I just wanted you to know where I stand. There are no games here like with the last guy. I want to be with you, and only you.” I had butterflies in my stomach, and I was sure my cheeks were flushed. I was silent for a moment, just savoring the silence and the natural surroundings.

  “Are you going to give me anything back?” he asked, chuckling.

  “Yes, yes. I’m sorry. I’m into you too. I’m so glad you brought me here.” I looked around.

  “So can I call you my girlfriend? And no more secrecy at work? I want everyone to know I’m with you.”

  “Um, yes. I mean, I think. That would be—good.”

  I was happy and I knew I needed to consummate the relationship right then and there. I leaned in to kiss him, and he pulled me close by the back as he often did. I clumsily dropped my basket of berries, and he set his down gracefully beside it. No one was around for at least half a mile. He backed me up into one of the apple trees and continued kissing me, running his hand up and down my side, holding me tight all the while.

  His largeness made me feel small, which I liked since I wasn’t an especially tiny person. He was a good kisser, and his stubble brushed against my neck, which gave me goose bumps despite the warm weather. He leaned into me, full-on body-to-body contact, and I felt his enormous erection through his shorts, which made me want him even more. I reached down to grab him, surprising him when I maintained a grip for several moments. He must have known I wanted him because he reached up my shirt and caressed me over my bra. His touch was delightful and tender.

  I reached inside his black boxer briefs and took hold of him, softly stroking him up and down; all the while our lips never parted. He moaned with pleasure and then pulled me closer by my rear end. I lifted my leg up onto the lowest branch, knocking a few baby apples off the tree. I hadn’t anticipated our first time would be in an apple orchard, but I imagined that it would make for a good story that we’d both remember forever. It was apropos too since our budding relationship was growing, just as the apple crop was. I was vaguely nervous that we’d be spotted even though no one was in sight. Sex wasn’t something I’d ever done in public, and I wanted to see what it would be like to have him inside me, there in the serenity and beauty of the orchard.

  Seconds later I freed his erection from his pants. I slid off my underwear and tossed it aside. We were so close now, and in those last few seconds I realized that we weren’t just having sex, we were making love. Then I put him inside me. He moaned, and so did I. It felt so right. We weren’t drunk, and it wasn’t a hotel. Being in nature felt so wonderfully primal. He was bigger than anyone that I’d ever been with, and I loved the way he felt inside me. I felt connected to him and could focus on just the two of us instead of having my mind drift into insecurities or “what ifs.”

  A moment later we lay on the ground, and he stealthily pulled a condom out of his wallet and slid it on before penetrating me again. We kept kissing, and he’d occasionally move his lips to my neck, kissing me firmly. He put a deep, intense pressure on my overly sensitive neck, taking the experience to another level. I felt enveloped in his arms, engulfed beneath him. I felt protected in a way that was brand new to me, and I couldn’t think about anything else other than where I was and what I was doing. It was the closest I’d ever come to meditation; my mind was so clear.

  After about five minutes, we intermittently whispered one another’s names. He plunged in and out of me in a way that was somehow sensitive, as if he were trying not to break me but also striving to deliver me to new heights of pleasure. And he was succeeding on both accounts. He told me how much he’d loved being so close to me. We gazed into one another’s eyes for several minutes. My attraction for him grew tenfold, and I watched him climax, his face twisting in the throes of pleasure. I came one second after he did, and he kissed me as I finished all over him. We lay on the ground for a few moments in silence, looking up through the apple trees and into the vivid, hot sun. It was surreal and it was perfect.

  “That was unbelievable,” he said.

  “It was.”

  He took my hand, and we walked dizzily through the rows of apple trees, through the berry bushes, and back toward the common area. Both silent, we got into the car, and he kissed me for another few minutes before we headed back home.

  “I didn’t take you there just to have sex with you. I hope you know that,” Ryan said. One hand was on the wheel and the other gripped mine.

  “I know. But it was awesome.”

  We got back to Ryan’s house and played with the dogs, who became fast friends. It was still the early afternoon, and Ryan and I were in the state of postcoital bliss I’d hoped for. He had all the ingredients for sangria, so I concocted some from a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, fresh fruit, and a splash of orange liqueur. As I made the drinks, Ryan prepared a large piece of salmon for a late lunch. We lazily set the table outside, kissing each time we passed one another. We nibbled at our fish and sipped our white wine outside on his deck, which overlooked his neighborhood’s community courtyard. His place was modern, cozy, and spacious. It had become a sanctuary for me, and I was secretly grateful to him for allowing me to get away from downtown every now and then.

  “I love it here,” I said. “It’s so nice and peaceful—very unlike the Short North.”

  “You should come over more often.” He smiled and sipped his wine.

  “Well our schedules conflict with that. Otherwise I would.”

  “I’ll give you a key,” he said nonchalantly.

  I nearly choked on my salmon. “A key? Isn’t it a little soon for that?”

  “Is there some timeline I should be following?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m just going with the flow, and I’d love if you and Luna were here a few nights a week when I got home. With my late hours and you living all the way downtown, there’s no other way for me to see you as often as I want to.”

  I was speechless. I wanted to see him more too, but rushing into a relationship was how I got burned the last time.

  “Really,” he said, nodding. “It’s no big deal. It’s just a key, Elle.”

  I sat in
shock, unable to believe that Ryan Adler was offering up a key to his home for me to use at my leisure.

  19

  A breezy June ripened into a scorching July, and by the fourth our coworkers were well aware that Ryan and I were an item. Even Penny got a hold of the information, and try though she did, she couldn’t find anything in the handbook that indicated that employees at the same level were prohibited from dating one another. Perhaps it would have been different if one of us had been subordinate to the other, but it appeared we were free and clear of any consequences.

  A few nights each week, Luna and I made a thirty-minute trek to Ryan’s place in New Albany. It was a refreshing change from the grimy, hectic city block I lived on. New Albany was quaint, reminiscent of somewhere in Northern California. The grass was always a brilliant green, and the sun seemed to perpetually shine. Ryan’s more mature and peaceful way of life was a beacon of hope for me. I was getting closer to the life I wanted. He offered me solace from everything I’d been used to for so long: the bad dates, addictive relationships, and lonely nights that had forced me to lower my standards. On top of that he was a wonderful boyfriend—thoughtful, full of life, and trustworthy.

  We spent humid summer nights sitting on his back deck, smoking the occasional joint or drinking white wine with the dogs at our feet. It was pure harmony. We went out to lunch every Sunday and then lounged into the evening watching movies, going swimming, or just taking long hikes together with Woody and Luna. We spent every spare minute together, which was an interesting feat for two people who worked so much. It was a full one-eighty from any relationship I’d had. There was no fighting, name-calling, deceit, or insecurity. I felt as if I were breathing new air—clean, untainted air that I never knew existed.

  Late in July, Ryan took me to the northernmost point in Ohio, where his father lived on the lake. He had a modest dock, which was private with its own breakwater. It contained a twenty-five-foot yacht and two old Wave Runners. Ryan’s predicament was similar to mine in that he had so little time to see his family. But his father had been pestering him for a visit, and Ryan thought it would be the perfect opportunity for me to meet his dad. Mr. Adler was a brawny fellow, not unlike his son. He’d been married for twenty years to his second wife (his mom lived at the opposite end of the state in a small farm town bordering West Virginia).