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Coffee and Conclusions

Page 15

by Emma Sterner-Radley


  Biting her lip, Erin thought it over. Every part of her screamed that it was an awful idea and demanded she run from the scary plan. But she also remembered how much easier life was when she got at least six hours sleep every night. Besides, she wanted to be the best possible version of herself for Isabella, and that meant facing her biggest demon.

  “If I,” she hesitated, “if I do decide to talk to someone about this, will you help me? I mean, like, find a therapist or psychiatrist or ventriloquist or whatever it is I need?”

  Isabella laughed and reached out to caress Erin’s cheek again. “Of course, my sweet. I’ll help you with anything I can. After all, I want to make sure you get some sleep on the first occasion you stay over. I can’t have you keeping me up tossing and turning all night,” she joked.

  Erin turned to gently kiss the fingers resting against her cheek and smiled. “Okay. Someday soon, when we run out of things to do, we’ll find me a headshrinker.”

  “It’s a deal, preciosa.”

  Isabella placed a soft kiss on Erin’s lips. A brief whisper of a kiss, lips brushing against each other lightly, yet it meant the world to Erin.

  A while later, Isabella began making supper. It didn’t take long for Erin to beg for a job so that she would feel that she was helping. Isabella prepared some sirloin steaks and Dauphinoise potatoes, while leaving Erin in charge of vegetables.

  Erin regaled Isabella with the nutrition contents of the string beans and carrots she was slicing up, commending Isabella on choosing two vegetables that were different colors.

  Isabella looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “The color scheme of the vegetables is important?”

  “Well, not so much the colors in themselves as what they signify, y’know? It means there are different vitamins and minerals in them. To achieve a varied diet and make sure your body gets everything it needs, you want to fill your plate with food that’s all the colors of the rainbow.” Erin paused to put a piece of carrot in her mouth before quickly adding, “Natural color, not added food coloring.”

  Isabella cut into one of the steaks to check how cooked it was. “I’m glad you approve of the colors of the food. Let’s hope it is as tasty as it is colorful. Speaking of colors, how pink do you want your meat?”

  A dirty comment about liking to eat pink things almost burst out of her mouth, but Erin decided that it was too vulgar. “As long as it’s not still alive and kicking, I don’t really have a preference.”

  “I’ll cook it medium, like I do my own, then. I need to check on the potatoes. Hand me that oven glove, preciosa.”

  Another comment popped out of Erin’s mouth. This one wasn’t vulgar, but it might still get her in trouble. “Hey, if you are going to keep calling me precious, could you do it in English and in a Gollum voice? That would be freakin’ hilarious.”

  Isabella looked at her coolly, then walked over to the sink and turned the tap on, stuck her long fingers under the tap, and proceeded to flick the cold water onto Erin’s face. “Stop being an annoyance, or I will call you something a lot less flattering, Miss Black.”

  Erin sniggered at the cold water running down her cheek and her neck. When she looked up, she saw a scowl on Isabella’s face, belied by the twinkle in the sultry, brown eyes.

  Down on the floor, Alberto was awake and watching them from his baby bouncer while pensively gumming three of his fingers.

  Erin smiled at him and startled when his little face crumpled, and he immediately looked away. She knew intellectually that his reaction had nothing to do with her. Maybe he had gas or he didn’t like the smell of the steaks or something.

  Still, she felt strangely rejected. Still, she wasn’t convinced this wasn’t going to be a problem.

  After dinner, Isabella showed Erin a bunch of DVDs which were, according to Isabella, “in a terrible state of disorganization,” as they’d just been picked up from the box and shoved onto the shelf. Erin replied that she wasn’t one to judge the collection since she didn’t even have more than three DVDs, due to the convenience of streaming movies.

  After rifling through artsy Italian and French movies, some classic black-and-whites, and a few she’d never heard of, Erin found something she hadn’t expected to see in Isabella’s collection. She turned to look at Isabella, holding the boxed-set trilogy. “I didn’t peg you as someone who would watch X-Men.”

  Isabella lifted Alberto to the sofa. “It’s not my usual style, no. I bought that set because it was on sale, and I…sort of have a thing for Hugh Jackman.”

  Erin’s brows flew up her forehead. “Hugh Jackman and Angela Bassett, you have a varied palate, lady.”

  With a noncommittal shrug, Isabella looked down at Alberto in her arms a little too fast. Erin’s brain whirred. So, Isabella wasn’t agreeing with the varied palate idea. Then what did those two actors have in common? Erin’s grin grew huge, as she figured it out.

  “Ah. I see. Nice muscle tone.”

  Isabella looked up from the baby. “Pardon?”

  “Hugh Jackman and Angela Bassett do have something in common. Well, I mean, they are obviously good-looking, talented actors who are older than you, but more importantly, they are also really fit and cut.”

  Isabella pursed her lips in annoyance. “Erin, just choose a movie and put it in the DVD player. I need to put Alberto to bed at some point, so we can’t be here all night waiting for you to pick a film.”

  Certain that she had hit a nerve, it was impossible for Erin to resist a little more teasing. “You know, this boxed set is pretty heavy.” She lifted it up and down, flexing every muscle she could in the most obvious way.

  “Just get on with it,” Isabella snapped.

  “Really? You don’t want a ticket to the gun show?”

  “What I want is to smack your blonde head. Pick. A. Movie. Now.”

  Erin laughed. “Fine, we’ll watch Hugh Jackman’s muscles instead.”

  She put the first disc into the player and sat down next to Isabella and Alberto, who was drowsily looking at his fingers. Erin thought it looked like he was trying to count them. He started to fidget, and Isabella stood up, mumbling, “All right, into your little gym you go then, cariño,” before placing him on his back in the gym. He immediately started to reach for the butterfly again, and Isabella gently dragged the gym so it was between the sofa and the TV. Now they could see him whirling about on his back while watching the TV.

  Isabella sat down unnecessarily close to her, Erin realized. So close that she could feel their hips and thighs pressed against each other. She didn’t dare to make a sound or a move, frightened that Isabella might move away. It was strange to imagine they’d been passionately kissing and groping each other earlier, and now she felt like they were two thirteen-year-olds sitting next to each other at the movies and wondering if they dared to hold hands.

  Erin felt the heat of Isabella’s body and remembered what it was like to touch it and to press her own against it. She clenched and unclenched her hands and forced herself to breathe, to keep herself from wrestling Isabella down on the sofa and tearing her dress off to get close to that tempting body of hers.

  Erin realized, with surprise, that Isabella had started the TV and DVD player while she was daydreaming.

  Get a grip, Black, she thought to herself, pushing away the thoughts of a perfectly shaped ass and soft, olive-toned skin. Not yet. It’s only the second date, and her kid is right there.

  Luckily, Isabella chased away the lecherous thoughts, as she languidly reached over and took Erin’s hand in hers.

  Erin couldn’t remember the last time holding hands had felt so intimate and overwhelming. Isabella’s hand was warmer than her own and very soft. The long fingers snaked between hers until they were perfectly threaded. Just when Erin thought the moment couldn’t get any better, Isabella lifted their clasped hands and placed a tender kiss on the back of Erin’
s.

  Erin sighed happily and braved resting her head on Isabella’s shoulder, as the movie went into an action scene. Isabella smelled lovely, and Erin had the added bonus of a view down her cleavage, something she tried not to abuse. She failed miserably.

  On the floor, Alberto managed to kick the butterfly with his little foot and immediately tried to do it again with great excitement.

  They’d taken a break, halfway into the movie, for Isabella to put Alberto down in his crib while Erin fetched some chips and dip. Isabella poured them more of the red wine they’d had with dinner. It worked surprisingly well with the snacks.

  After the movie, Erin wasn’t sure what to do. It didn’t seem like the right time to try and get Isabella into bed. Things between them were still too delicate, and Erin was far too scared to rush and ruin it all. She knew she was going to go for that good-night kiss, but she didn’t want to push it any further.

  So she sat there, wondering how to know when the evening was over. She didn’t want to leave too soon or overstay her welcome. How long could she stay before Isabella was too tired? When was the last train back to NYC?

  She needn’t have worried. Isabella stood up as the credits of the movie finished, seeming restless and stiff from having sat there. “Right, should we check when your next train leaves?”

  Erin nodded, grateful. Isabella went to get her iPad and checked train times, and discovered there was one leaving in a little less than an hour.

  “Sounds good. I’ll get that one.”

  “Let me call you a taxi, and then we get a little while to say our good-byes while we wait for it.”

  Erin smiled, as she leaned back and put her hands behind her head. “Cool. I’m, uh, glad that we both agree that I should go tonight.”

  Isabella gave her an inscrutable look and a smile that looked rather practiced. What’s that about? Does she want me to stay? But she was the one who checked train times.

  Feeling useless and confused, Erin sat there watching Isabella call for a taxi.

  “It should be here shortly,” she informed Erin upon returning to the sofa.

  “Brilliant. Thanks for that. Oh, and thanks for paying for the train fare earlier.”

  “It was the least I could do.” Isabella stiffly placed her hands on her knees. Her whole body language spoke of distance and discomfort. Erin wondered if she’d done something wrong, or if Isabella was nervous for some reason.

  Erin tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think I’ll text Chris from the train, ask him if he could help me get cover one day next week. That way we don’t have to wait another week to see each other again. I mean, if that is okay with you?”

  Some of Isabella’s stiffness mellowed. “Of course. That sounds like a marvelous idea. Just let me know when.”

  “Well, if he can help get some of the other personal trainers to take some of my pickier clients, then I suppose I should give him some time to arrange stuff. So probably not Monday or Tuesday. I’ll ask him about Wednesday?”

  “Sure, we’ll be home.”

  “Awesome.”

  “So, Chris… That’s the owner of the gym you work in, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s a small gym, so the personal trainers who work there are technically freelance, just working out of his gym. It’s more like a collaboration than him really being our boss, I guess. But, yeah, he owns it. Not that it does him any good. He was telling me that he wants to change his life. He’s sweet, because he’s a teddy bear, but he seems pretty jealous that I’ve met someone amazing in exotic Philly.”

  Isabella laughed, and more of that stiffness drained. “Poor man. Is he single?”

  Erin raised her eyebrows. “What? You wanna date him too?”

  “No, featherbrain. I was more thinking that I could set him up with someone who is also bored and thoroughly loathes the Philadelphia dating scene. If he is worthy of my little sister, that is. She’s a pain, but I love her dearly. Don’t ever tell her I said that, though. And I would only set her up with a really great guy.”

  “Oh, Chris is an awesome guy. He’s sweet, funny, kind. Not overly bright, but clever enough to run a gym and keep it in the black. I doubt he makes much profit off it, though. Shame, really.”

  “Sweet, funny, and kind is all she needs. She’ll tell him what to think anyway, so he doesn’t have to be the sharpest tool in the shed. I have to ask and risk making Marie sound shallow, but I know what she falls for. Is he handsome?”

  Erin shrugged. “Yeah, sure. He’s got a chiseled chin, kind-lookin’ face, and plenty of muscles, of course.”

  Isabella whistled low. “Perhaps I should date him.”

  Erin scowled, and Isabella leaned in for a brief kiss on top of Erin’s ear. “But, then, how could he ever compete with your mind-blowing smile, alluring sea-green eyes, and sexy, feminine muscle tone? I think I’ll stick with you, preciosa.”

  “You better,” Erin muttered and grabbed Isabella’s face for a kiss. It took Erin’s breath away. There was so much longing and desire in it. If their hand-holding throughout the movie had been tentative and juvenile, this kiss was mature and all adult. Erin felt it from her toes and all the way up to the crown of her head. The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. It was crazy sexy, but more than that, it was meaningful. This kiss spoke of patience and importance; it held a promise of something long lasting.

  The honk of a horn startled them both.

  “I suppose that is your taxi,” Isabella said in a low, half-strangled voice.

  “Fuck,” Erin muttered. Her whole body seemed to hum and tingle.

  Isabella smirked and ran her finger along Erin’s jaw. “You’re so wonderful. You haven’t even left yet, and I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered, as her finger brushed over Erin’s lips.

  The taxi honked again, and Erin began to stand reluctantly. “That’s it. If I can’t get cover for Wednesday, I’ll fake illness. Screw the clients if they leave.”

  Isabella beamed at her and purred, “Good girl.”

  Erin felt her body screaming to stay and do things that would make Isabella call her a bad girl, but she stood and went to pick up her jacket and backpack.

  She smiled at Isabella before opening the door. “Good night, beautiful. Next time we should have midnight coffee, you know. Sweet dreams, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  “Safe travels and sweet dreams,” Isabella replied and blew a kiss.

  Erin pretended to catch it and then left with surprisingly little regret. After all, they were in no hurry. Erin was going to get this right. They might just have the rest of their lives to take turns being both good girls and bad.

  Chapter 17

  Things We Do for Our Mothers

  With breakfast polished off and her morning coffee downed, Isabella’s writing was going well. The words were finally ready for the page, and Isabella made the most of it.

  Granted, it wasn’t the chapter on “Beauty and the Beast” that she was meant to be writing, but the “Rumpelstiltskin” chapter would do just as well. She breathed deeply, relieved at how easily the words arranged themselves into a neat, flowing order as she wrote.

  She paused a moment to think of a synonym, and her eyes fell on Alberto. He was on his stomach and doing a strange wriggle, not quite crawling and not quite shimmying but something in the middle. He looked very focused on his movements and didn’t seem to notice his mother staring at him with proud eyes.

  “Ay, cariño, you’re almost crawling. Come here. Aim for Mamá.”

  She sat on the floor in front of him, arms outstretched. He looked up at her, a little frown creasing his face, seemingly confused at her sudden appearance. His hold on the floor slipped, and he was flat on his belly again. With an adorable grunt, he tried to get back into his little shimmy, but he seemed to have forgotten how it worked.

  “Sorry, Alberto
. Did I make you lose your concentration? Never mind. It will come back to you next time you want to break out of your gym.”

  She picked him up and kissed his forehead. He blinked at her and tried to put her nose in his mouth. Laughing, she moved away when she heard a beep. She went to fetch her phone, assuming it would be another annoying inspirational message. Marie had begun sending them since Isabella told her about Erin. Messages like seize the day and give love a chance had been coming in almost daily, and Isabella promptly ignored them. She could never tell if Marie sent them to cheer her on or to mess with her.

  “That woman needs a hobby. Or a boyfriend,” she muttered, as she picked up the phone. She was happily surprised to see a text from Erin.

  Good morning, beautiful. How’s your Sunday going? Miss me yet? ;-)

  Isabella beamed. Every day, she thought about Erin and felt the craving for her as if it were a physical thing. Yes, she was missing Erin. A big part of her wished Erin had never left the apartment after their date yesterday. She’d never felt so comfortable around anyone, well, except for Alberto. The feeling was very addictive. As were Erin’s kisses.

  Hello, preciosa. It’s going well. I’ve managed some writing, and Alberto is making progress on the crawling front, which is good for his age. How are you?

  A text came back in a flash.

  You didn’t answer if you missed me.

  Isabella felt the corners of her lips pull into an evil smile.

  No, I didn’t.

  :-P Tease! Well, I miss you anyway.

  Isabella went to answer but then changed her mind and pushed the dial button instead. Erin picked up right away.

  “Hey, Ms. Writer.”

  “Hello again. I thought this was easier than texting back and forth.”

  “Yeah, probably cheaper too,” Erin admitted.

  “Yes. Besides, telling you that I miss you and can’t wait to see you again sounds better vocally, I think.”

 

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