by J Q Anderson
“Now you try,” he says. I feel the panic rise and I think he sees it on my face because he holds my forearms as I try the movement he just explained. It takes me several attempts. My legs are not cooperating and the fact that our bodies are so close is a major distraction. I try to focus and not gape at the work of art that are his arms and shoulders. Every single muscle is outlined as if someone just Photoshopped him for a swimsuit ad. His hair is wet and beads of water trickle down his forehead. Steam rises from the pool surface, giving him this God-like aura.
He is very distracting.
I frown and coerce my mind to concentrate and finally I think I get it because he slowly slides his hands down my arms until he is holding only my fingers. I am ecstatic and want to scream that I did it, but I don’t want to let go of him. He then holds only one of my hands and tells me to do the flying movement with the other. When he thinks I’ve got it, he tells me he’s going to let go. I look at him with wide eyes and he smiles.
“You can do it, Natalia.” The way he says my name causes me to lose my coordination and I panic, whipping my limbs in every direction, splashing him as I flap my arms and gasp for air. He immediately wraps his arms around me and tells me it’s okay.
“You did great,” he says to my ear and a surge of electricity travels through me. I am holding on to his neck for my life, panting, but the soothing tone of his voice relaxes me and I slowly loosen my grip. The group at the Jacuzzi is staring in our direction and the girls are laughing out loud. I scowl at them and want to tell them to fuck off.
“They’re just some stupid drunks. Don’t worry about them,” he says, and I have to fight the urge to kiss him. Nobody has made me feel this safe in years. Not even Marc. Marc is attentive, but patience is not his suit. I can’t imagine him doing what Jake is doing for me right now. The only person that made me feel something close to this was… Tango, an eternity ago.
I shake off the thought and look up at Jake. He is watching me with those warm eyes that remind me of the way cognac feels as it slides down your throat on a cold day. Shit. I push away my day-fantasy with this almost stranger and offer him a small, apologetic smile.
“Should we try again?” I say, and I think he’s pleased because his answering smile is dazzling. In an effort to break the spell from that smile I try to think of Marc, but I really don’t want to think of Marc right now. Jake’s presence is so strong there is no room for anything else. So I go with it.
By the end of the lesson, I’ve got the egg-beater thing down and Jake praises me for my progress.
“Wanna have a drink? You’ve earned it.”
I look up at the lodge. Fraternizing with the guests is not encouraged and I am already pushing my luck with the swimming lessons. The only reason I got away with it was because Sarah, our manager, likes me and thinks I am her pet project, so she was eager to help.
“Natalia, it’s just a drink. Not a proposition. But it’s cool if you don’t feel like it.” He smiles.
“It’s not that. This place likes gossip, and I’m already bending the rules with the lessons.”
He laughs. “We can go into town. I wouldn’t mind having my last dinner out.”
My breath catches when he says that, reminding me this will be his last night here. I can’t help the feeling of emptiness that washes through me, and I already know I want to have more time with him. I know it’s wrong, but I tell myself we are just friends and he is not interested in me in a romantic way. I am a pretty lousy liar.
I tell him I prefer to take a cab and we make arrangements to meet at a restaurant downtown. Drinks just turned into dinner.
In my room, I try on every outfit I brought, which adds up to a grand total of five. Nothing seems right. I sigh out loud.
Dani storms in from the gym and takes in the mess of clothes on my bed. “Hot date?”
“I’m meeting Jake for a drink. It’s not a date.”
She rolls her eyes. “Right.”
“Dani,” I snap.
She raises her palms up. “Hey, I’m not judging. You need to venture out and that’s a good thing.”
“Why don’t you like Marc? You are always telling me to venture out. I’m not going to cheat on him.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him. I am just not as convinced as you are that he is the right match for you.”
“Why?” I whip around.
“I don’t know.” She plops down on the bed. “Too self-absorbed, I guess. I actually think he loves himself more than he loves you. Sorry.” She shrugs. “I get the money thing and all that, but I’m not sold on the guy. I don’t trust him doing the long distance thing, either. He seems way too cool about it.”
“Dani. Marc would never cheat on me. Jesus. And you know I am not with him because he has money. Can you give it a rest? I’m going to marry him and I don’t want things between you and me to be weird.”
“Fine. I’ve said my peace. I’m letting you be. But let yourself have a good time. That hot guy out there is doing way more than is required for a friend and I think you deserve some of that. Let loose.”
“Dani, please just help me find something to wear and shut up.”
She chuckles as she stands up, then opens her closet and pulls out a short black dress with long sleeves and a square neck. It is very sexy and the material looks incredibly soft.
“Here.” She hands me the dress. “I haven’t worn it yet, but it will look good on you.”
I grin, because it’s perfect. “Really?”
“Really.” She grins back.
Twenty minutes later, I am showered, wearing the black short dress and pulling my black knee-high boots on. I slip into a red coat that goes down to my knees and I am rushing to the door where my taxi is waiting. And I can’t remember the last time I was this excited.
Chapter 10: Jake
I am getting dressed for this date wondering what the hell I’m really getting dressed for. This crazy obsession over Natalia has now turned into a wild goose chase. I was expecting that at some point during the last two days I would find in her what I have been looking for from the start. Confirmation that she’s no different from all the other women I’ve ever met. I guess in my head, extending my vacation by two days was not a big deal if in return I got her out of my mind and regained full control of my thoughts.
Epic failure so far.
There hasn’t been one moment in the time we’ve spent together when I didn’t want to crush her mouth into a kiss. It’s a fucking inconvenience because the whole time my thoughts have been at war with my dick. Thank God for the pool in winter.
I pull a gray sweater over my head. Black jeans and boots will do. Then grab my leather jacket as I walk out, raking a hand through my hair so it doesn’t look like I’m trying hard. I want tonight to be the same as the last two days have been. At some point Natalia let down her guard and she seems more relaxed around me. I like seeing her that way.
I get into a taxi at the front of the hotel thinking how ridiculous it is that we are not sharing a ride, but as an employee, appearances matter to Natalia. I wonder what her friends make of the time she’s been spending with me. I wonder if she’s told her fiancée she has a new swimming instructor. Yeah, one that does what you do for a living. I shake my head. I’ve never given a fuck about appearances and I’m not about to start now. Tonight I’m going to prove to myself she’s just like the others. I know I’m a prick for setting her up like this, but I also know it is the only way I’ll find peace of mind.
I enter the restaurant and scan the room. The hostess takes her time to appraise me and stifles a smile while she locates my reservation.
“Jake Harper?” She looks up and her eyes darken. I refrain from rolling mine and nod a response. She swings her hips around her station, makes sure I get a good shot of her ass as she picks up the menus, then glances once over her shoulder.
“Right this way, please.”
I follow her to the table I’ve requested. It is by a floor to ceil
ing window overlooking the mountain. I’ve been here with Tamara before. I’m browsing over the wine list when Natalia appears at my side. I stand and before I can say anything she tilts her face up and greets me with a kiss on the cheek. I’m momentarily stunned, enjoying the sudden contact with her chilled cheek. She realizes she caught me off guard and a slight blush raises to her face.
“It’s an Argentinean thing,” she explains. “The kissing on the cheek. I keep forgetting you guys don’t do that here. It’s weird to me to shake someone’s hand.” She smiles as I help her with her coat.
“I don’t mind.” I shrug and her smile widens. She looks radiant. Those piercing green eyes are bright and her hair is down in long, raven layers. I haven’t seen her hair down since the poker night and it is definitely my new favorite.
“This place is incredible. Look at that view,” she says as I pull out her chair, then gives me a thankful smile.
“Do you come into town much?” I say, drinking in her fresh expression. I haven’t seen her this relaxed since… I have never seen her this relaxed.
“Not usually,” she says. “Unless it’s someone’s birthday and we can work out the time off. Most nights I’m dead tired after work. We just stay in and play poker.”
“Which is quite profitable in your case.” I smile and that slight blush raises to her face again. I need to find more things to make her blush because it’s sort of addicting. Her guard is down and she looks beautiful. She shakes her head.
“Gotta do what you can.”
“Indeed. I nod.” My eyes are locked on hers and she glances down at the menu, blushing again, and I can’t help the shit-eating grin on my face.
I order a bottle of wine and she lifts up the napkin on the bread basket and picks up a bread roll. She breaks a piece and bites through it, making an appreciative sound. I like that she is not hiding the fact that she’s hungry. I cannot remember the last time I saw a woman grab a piece of plain white bread and put it in her mouth.
The waiter comes back with the wine and we order our meals. Once again I’m surprised when she orders the Fettuccine and Fungi special and not a skimpy salad like Tamara would have.
We fall into easy conversation and she tells me about her life in Buenos Aires. I’m fascinated and want to know every detail. Life in South America sounds fun, careless and much less regulated than here in every way. I make a mental note to add Buenos Aires to my bucket list.
“So Jake.” She smiles. “I usually don’t ask people this, but given the fact that we just spent the last two days together and now you know more about my life and aspirations than most people, I’m gonna ask.” She sighs.
“What?”
“What do you do for a living?”
And there it is.
I hold her gaze for a moment, pondering. But it’s too soon and I am enjoying having her here, unaffected and unguarded. I’m not ready to give that up, yet.
“Well?” She raises her eyebrows.
“I have plans to open a surf shop. If everything goes well, we will open by mid March.”
Her face lights up. “Really? Where?”
I tilt my head and she blushes. Why does she blush when I tilt my head? “San Diego.”
“You’re kidding.” Her eyes widen and she’s watching me as if she’s waiting for me to tell her it’s a joke.
“Nope. Cardiff, actually. I have friends there that I visit every summer. I’ve been toying with the idea of having my own shop for a while and I’ve always been kind of obsessed with surfboards. So it’s finally happening.”
“That’s… great. I mean…” She shakes her head.
“What? What did you think I was going to say?”
She looks up and suddenly seems embarrassed. “I don’t know. I figured you were one of those guys that play golf and live a work-free life. I don’t know what pro athletes do when they retire.”
I laugh. “My career was not as long as I wished, and water polo athletes are not like football players.”
“Why did you stop playing?”
“Shoulder injury,” I mutter. “I pushed it too hard during the Olympics. I was young and thought my body could take anything. That was my last trip.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “You played in the Olympics?”
I nod. “Gold medal.”
“No way.”
I shrug in response. She looks at me for a long moment with a puzzled look of admiration. It’s better than being pinned as some has-been living on the products of his glory days.
Our dinner comes and I am relieved with the change of subject. I smile when she tells me she’s starving, and appraises the food on her plate. She grins as she takes a bite and the way her mouth wraps around her fork sends an instant shot to my groin. It makes me shift on my seat. I smile again because I love that she loves food.
“So what do you do now?” she says, reaching for her glass. “I mean, how do you make a living if you are… retired?”
Ah.
“That’s a lot of questions.” I smile, because I am still not ready to answer that. Not until I find out what I want to know about her. “I’m kind of shy.” I tilt my head and she stops chewing, then reaches for her wine again. Yes. I need to tilt my head more.
She takes a sip and smiles. “You are not shy, Jake.”
“Okay.” I shrug. “You’re right. Maybe shy is not the right word. I’m a very private person, though.”
She pouts and I have to look away. “Well,” she says. “You know a lot more about me. I feel at a disadvantage. So you have to tell me.”
I laugh. “Very persistent. But seriously, enough about me.”
She shakes her head and I am safe for the moment. We ease into safer territory as she tells me about working at the lodge. It sounds like a fun deal and she says she makes a lot in tips. I have no doubt. After watching her play poker, I am sure she does very well for herself.
When we are done with our meal I order a lemon mousse to share. She smiles. I don’t really want dessert, but watching her lips wrap around the spoon as she eats has become my new favorite show. Out of the corner of my eye I see a small dance floor by a wall of windows and inspiration hits me. The window is now a black screen peppered with the glinting lights of the surrounding homes. In a corner next to the dance floor, a guy sitting on a barstool strums the chords of an acoustic guitar as he hums a slow melody.
“Want to dance?” I say, appraising her reaction. She looks up and her eyes widen. She’s conflicted.
“Um, I’m not a great dancer.”
Good save. I smile. “Doesn’t matter. I am. I’ll guide you. Besides, this is a very slow song.”
She looks down at her hands before meeting my eyes again. “Jake, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I mean, I’m with… someone. I don’t think he’d like it if he knew I was slow dancing with another guy.” I’m stunned by her loyalty. It’s like she just swung a right hook to my jaw. Now I really want to know.
“I promise I won’t push the boundaries. I just want to dance with you, Natalia.”
She closes her eyes for a moment, and I think I’ve won.
“Okay. Just one song.”
I smile and take her hand as I stand, leading her to the dance floor. I know I am being a prick. This girl is off the market. My rules about women that are unavailable are also clear: Keep Out. But I have to convince myself Natalia is no different than the other women I’ve met, and if she is tempted far enough, she will cave. Women can’t help lying. They all do it. It’s in their DNA. In the end, loyalty means nothing to them.
My arms wrap around her waist while she hesitantly circles hers around my neck. The immediate sensation that fires through me leaves me winded. The scent of jasmine invades me. I close my eyes and squeeze her a little tighter so I can bury my nose in her hair. She stills and lets out a small gasp. God. She’s fucking Heaven. Her body fits perfectly in my arms and her warmth feels so incredibly good it’s almost unbearable. I have to end this soon. Just get through
with it and walk away, Jake. My lips brush her neck slightly, almost without touching her. Her skin is soft and I imagine kissing every inch of it, the way I’ve been imagining her in my bed since we first met. I brush her hair over her other shoulder so I can have full access to her neck. I graze her skin with my lips again and a shiver runs through her, leaving goose bumps on her neck. My other hand presses against the small of her back, bringing her closer. The fabric of her dress is soft and I imagine sliding it over her head, slowly peeling it off to reveal the rest of her perfect skin. I squeeze my arms around her and I’m already hard.
“Jake,” she whispers, and it’s almost inaudible. “I… can’t.” Her breaths are shallow and I know she’s feeling this as much as I am.
I close my eyes, feeling every inch the asshole that I am, and decide to go for the kill. I thread my fingers in her hair, cradling her face in my hands and deliberately look at her mouth before meeting her eyes. She looks vulnerable and I know perfectly well the effect I am having on her. I have seen it a hundred times before with the others. Her eyes are dark, her lips parted as she breathes in broken breaths, waiting for my next move. I bring her mouth to mine and just as our lips are about to touch she shakes her head and presses her hands to my chest.