“Fuck,” he breathed.
I pulled him down by his neck and kissed him. “Thank you, baby. That was just what I—”
When the door slammed downstairs, David jumped back.
“Shit,” I hissed, fumbling to button up my jeans. I flew to my feet as David zipped up his own pants.
My dad’s voice rang through the house. “Liv?”
After a moment to catch my breath, I responded. “Up here, Dad.”
I heard him climbing the steps as David whirled to the bookshelf to pick up my prom photo.
“That was quick,” I squeaked as Dad leaned in the doorway.
“Didn’t need much,” he said with a shrug.
“I was just asking Olivia about her high school prom,” David blurted, sweat dotting his upper lip.
Oh, come on. This was the one moment where he couldn’t be cool? I shifted on my feet when an uncomfortable feeling came over me.
As I cursed under my breath, David caught my eye and mouthed, “What?”
“Ah, yes, the Harper boy,” my dad remarked, nodding at the prom photo. “Gretchen’s brother still causing trouble?”
Fuck. I fought the urge to adjust my panties as they dampened with David’s semen.
“Olivia?” David asked.
“Um, I don’t—not sure.”
I grimaced as David furrowed his brows at me. Suddenly, I understood why he’d tried to me fend off—almost getting caught was not sexy. When my dad turned to David, I quickly pulled at my crotch.
As it dawned on David as to why I was so uncomfortable, a lewd smile crossed his face. “Should we get started on those leftovers?” David asked, putting down the photo and crossing the room to my dad. “Come on. I’ll help.”
I silently thanked him for rescuing me and ran to the bathroom to clean myself up.
Once I’d changed, I rejoined them in the kitchen. They were already each a beer deep, so I grabbed a Heineken and sat back as my dad showed David how to make steak enchiladas. David gave my dad his undivided attention, seemingly eager to acquire this new skill. I sighed. If he learned to cook, then he really would be perfect, and where would that leave me?
Tired from my day in the sun, I let them talk about work and other things as I ate. David glanced at my empty plate when I sat back in my chair and smiled at me. When I offered to do the dishes, my dad shooed me away, so I flopped onto the couch, completely sated. I wondered, as they cleared the table together, if I should be worried that my dad was treating David more like a peer than his daughter’s boyfriend.
I flipped through the channels until they’d finished and put on ESPN at their request. David sat on the couch with his long legs spilling in front of us. I lay my head on his lap and tuned out the sounds of football replays while he played with my hair.
At some point, I heard David’s distant voice. “You awake?” he asked.
I opened my eyes. It was dark except for the TV screen, and SportsCenter had been muted.
“Did I fall asleep?” I asked.
“Yeah. Your dad just went to bed.”
“Mmm, sorry.”
He stroked my hair, and I closed my eyes again.
“I’ll take you upstairs,” he said.
“Not yet,” I said softly.
David lifted me to pull his legs up lengthwise on the couch. Because it was a tight fit, I climbed atop him to rest my cheek on his broad chest. He slid his hand under my hair, freeing it from my neck.
“Are you having fun?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s nice to take some time off work for something important.”
I smiled to myself. Most people just wanted an expensive, indulgent vacation, and here, David thought making a good impression on my dad was important. “When’s your flight?” I asked.
“I don’t have one.”
I sighed with gratitude. That meant more time with him. “Why not?”
“I’ll buy it when we get to the airport.”
“Oh.” I shifted on him, my smile growing when I realized he wanted us to fly together. “Good.”
His fingers moved to my earlobe and tugged gently. “I’m sorry if we ruined your underwear.”
I giggled softly. “It was worth it.”
“Yes, but it’s not going to happen again. I want to be respectful.”
“Sure. Okay,” I said, yawning and smacking my lips. I was too tired to get frisky anyway. I twisted to prop my chin on his sternum and look up at him. With his eyes closed, the television glare flashed over his face.
So handsome.
“What was that?” he asked.
“I didn’t say anything.”
He chuckled. “You sure?”
“Mhm.”
“So handsome?” he asked.
“Oh.” I bit my lip. “That could get to be a bad habit, thinking out loud.”
“I think I’d like it if you did.” He inhaled deeply. “It’d save me a hell of a lot of grief.”
I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. “You’re exaggerating.”
He just smiled and closed his eyes again, humming his satisfaction as he took a deep breath.
David was solid underneath me. Sturdy. Reliable. My father had always been that for me, too—or so I’d thought. I hadn’t really thought more about the conversation at the clubhouse since David had surprised me, but it was a weird thing to know I’d gotten wrong such a huge part of the puzzle of my past. “He cheated on my mom,” I whispered.
David stilled. “Your dad?”
I nodded into his chest. “He told me yesterday. I always thought it was all in her head, and I’ve accused her of it many times.”
“If I’m honest, Olivia . . .” He opened his eyes and blew out a breath. “I had a feeling. You were always so adamant he was innocent, but I didn’t buy it.”
“Really?” I asked. “You never said so.”
“It was an instinct. Usually in these situations, where there’s smoke, there’s fire.” He ran a hand over my hair. “But I suspected your dad kept it from you to protect you, so I kept my mouth shut.”
I glanced down at his chest, comforted by the way it rose and fell with his breath. “He didn’t want me to go live with my mom,” I said.
“That’s playing a little dirty,” David said, “but I would’ve done the same thing. Sounds like your mom wasn’t that stable. But how do you feel about that?”
I crossed an arm over David’s chest and replaced my chin so our eyes were level. “I’m not happy that he lied to me, but I guess I get why he did it. Strangely, it doesn’t make me feel any more sympathetic toward my mom.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Probably because your issues with her aren’t just about that night.”
“Should I start calling you Dr. David?” I teased.
“It has a nice ring to it.”
“She agreed to more alimony to stop fighting my dad for custody,” I explained. “She’d always told me she’d given up because of the stabbing—that my dad’s lawyer was vicious, and he’d make her look like the bad guy. She said she couldn’t afford to keep spending money just to lose.”
“Do you think you would’ve gone to live with her if you’d known the truth?” he asked.
I traced a circle on his t-shirt, thinking. “I didn’t want to live with her because I blamed her for the divorce. She was jealous, she drank, and I was a little bit scared of her. But if I’d known it wasn’t entirely her fault . . . I’m not sure.”
“I think most girls would choose their mother in a divorce, regardless of circumstances,” David said. “That’s why this probably goes deeper than that. The night at the apartment, when she called and made you cry—you said that your mom doesn’t love you.”
“I did?” I tried to recall the time between the phone call and our bath, but it was hazy.
“Yes. A parent is supposed to love their child unconditionally. If you don’t feel that from her . . . well, it’d explain a lot.” He paused, seeming to think. “That, in addition to her behavior, coul
d be a large part of why it’s difficult for you to open up. If your own mother doesn’t love you for who you are, why would anyone else?”
“That sounds so sad,” I said.
“It’s devastating, Olivia. It makes me hurt for you. And it’s completely fucked up. But . . .” He lifted my chin to get me to look at him. “You’re an accomplished, smart, and kind woman in spite of it. You should be proud.”
“I don’t know about that considering my actions lately, but I am grateful. I never knew it could be like this. I was happy and content before I met you. I loved, and I was loved.” I swallowed, looking into David’s clear eyes. “But I never experienced this . . . this desire to give myself over to another person, wholly and completely without holding anything back. It’s all new to me. I wouldn’t know that if you hadn’t fought for me.”
He resumed stroking my hair. “You say that like I had a choice.”
“I love you.”
He smiled. “I look forward to hearing that more often.”
“I’m sorry it took so long to say it in the first place.”
“I don’t care,” he said simply. “Because I never had any doubt.”
“Never?” I asked, fighting my own smile. “Not once?”
I laughed when the corner of his lip twitched. “Well, most of the time anyway.”
19
With a red pen shoved behind my ear, I hunched over the work I’d spread out on the seat back tray table in front of me. Flying first class certainly meant more space to work, but it was tough to get anything done with David’s eyes glued to me.
I looked over at the handsome man in the seat next to me with tousled weekend hair and black-framed reading glasses.
He folded the “Business” section of the Tribune in his lap. “Hey.”
I shifted so my back was to the window. “I like your glasses,” I said.
He studied me a moment. “The better to see you with.”
“They’re sexy.”
It hadn’t taken much convincing for the airline to make a space for David on the full flight and—despite my objections—get both our seats upgraded. I implied afterward that the conversation would’ve gone differently if he’d been talking to a man, but David insisted it was only because he was a good customer.
When he reached over and squeezed my thigh, my stomach dropped in just the right way. I waggled my eyebrows and nodded toward the restrooms at the front of the plane. He shook his head.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I’m not taking you in some disgusting airplane bathroom,” he said just above a whisper.
I stuck out my lower lip. “It doesn’t bother me. It might be fun.”
He eyed me. “I’m starting to worry that you’re only interested in me for sex.”
I laughed too loudly and shrank down in my seat. “Would that bother you?” He continued to glare at me. “I mean, you’re really good at it,” I pointed out.
Trying hard to suppress a smile, he shook his head and turned back to his article.
His glasses were definitely sexy, though. And so was the way he’d spent these past few days focused on me and getting to know my dad instead of trying to squeeze in work here and there like I might’ve expected. David had always known how to back up his love declaration with actions, and I had a lot to learn from him.
“Have you ever been in love?” I asked him.
He blinked at me, his expression going blank as the cabin hummed around us. After removing his glasses, he rubbed his eyes. “I’m not discussing this on an airplane.”
“Geez, what do you have against airplanes?” I joked.
“It’s just not very . . .” He glanced over his shoulder at the aisle. “. . . private.”
“This is something most couples discuss before they move in together.”
“Does that mean you’re moving in?”
I sighed. “That leads me to bullet point number two under Questions I Need to Ask—have you ever lived with a woman?”
“I see you’re not going to be easily deterred,” he said.
“I’m learning from a pro.”
“Funny.” David stuck the newspaper into the seat back pocket in front him. “Of course I’ve been in love and, yes, I’ve lived with a woman.”
My eyes drifted over his face as he looked back at me. He’d been in love, and he’d lived with another woman. For thirty-five years old, it wasn’t surprising news, but what was surprising? Instead of raging jealousy, his past only eased my worries about his ability to commit.
“If you want,” he said, “I’ll tell you all about them, but it’s ancient history in my mind. I’ve loved two girls aside from you. We separated amicably, but we don’t keep in touch. And though I believed I loved them at the time, I now see those relationships differently.”
“Differently how?”
“I didn’t know the meaning of love until I met you.”
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or swoon. “That’s nice,” I said, “but it also sounds like a line.”
“I know, but it’s the truth,” he said simply. “I loved them differently than I love you. And certainly a great deal less.”
There was nothing funny about that. This time, my heart swelled. “That’s really sweet, David. Thank you.”
“I’m not trying to be sweet,” he said. “You asked, and that’s my answer.”
“Noted,” I said, stifling a smile. “So you’re not afraid of living with a girl? Hair products, tampons, constant company, sharing your bed . . . you’re okay with all of that?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Now that we’re on the same page, and we’re both a hundred percent in—I mean, I’d understand if you wanted to slow down a little bit. I could get my own place for a while, and we could date until we’re ready to take the next step.”
He shifted to face me more. “How long is a while?”
“I have no idea—a year, maybe?” I said.
“A year?” he barked, piercing the quietude.
“Shh,” I said. The passenger across the aisle glanced up, then returned to typing on his laptop. “That’s usually how long a lease is.”
“No. Absolutely not,” David said. The crow’s feet around his eyes deepened. “Is that—is that what you want?”
What I wanted was to spend every waking moment with the god in front of me. But more than that . . . “I want this relationship to work,” I said.
“It’s never going to work with you keeping one foot out the door, Olivia,” David said frankly.
“That’s not what I’m doing,” I reassured him. I’d been doing that up until our talk. Now, I just wanted to inject a little sensibility into a mad and passionate love. “I’m not going anywhere. I just don’t want to spook you by moving too fast.”
“You’re projecting,” he said. “You think I want something that I don’t. It makes me wonder if that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t. And for once, I didn’t question that. I smiled and slid my hand over his jeans. “Okay.”
“Listen, this isn’t my first relationship as you seem to think.” David lowered his voice and leaned in. “I know what I want, and it’s you—falling asleep next to me every night, waking up with me every morning. I actually don’t like having you out of my sight ever.”
“Well, it’s not exactly possible to keep tabs on me all the time,” I said.
“You’re telling me.” He snorted. “I’ve tried to think of how I might without scaring you or ending up in prison.”
I laughed. “You are so extreme.”
“Only when it comes to you.”
“And work,” I said.
He nodded slowly. “Up until now, it’s been my priority. If that’s a problem, I’ll make some changes to be more available.”
“It’s not a problem.” I rubbed his leg. “I’m just glad you do what you love.”
“I do,” he said, “but at the end of the day, it’s still a job.”
>
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I’d still do it, even if I stopped loving it.”
Based on the eloquent way he’d described his hotel project to me, then how effortlessly he’d laid out the Oak Park house’s issues, quirks, and imaginary plans, David’s work was part of his identity. “But you’re a partner,” I said. “And I have no doubt you know how to manage your investments. You shouldn’t ever have to do something you don’t love. Why would you?”
“Wealth, prestige.” He sat back and gestured around the first-class cabin. “It allows me this lifestyle.”
“This lifestyle?” I asked. “Is that important to you?”
“Definitely,” he said. “I’ll never be the type of man to leave my family wanting.”
Aww. Though the sentiment left me warm and fuzzy, my financial comfort was secondary to his happiness. “Baby, knowing you’re doing what you love would be a million times more important to me than ‘lifestyle.’ I know you feel the same about me.”
“I do,” he said softly. “I’m lucky because I do love it, but security is important to me. I want you to have everything you want.”
“What else could I ask for?” I melted into my seat. “If it all went away tomorrow, but I still had you, I wouldn’t be any less happy.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, “but I refuse to find out.”
“I’m just saying.” I reached out and brushed my fingers over his hairline. “It’s not important to me.”
He grabbed my hand before I could withdraw and kissed my palm. “So you wouldn’t mind if I gave up my place in San Sebastián? And we didn’t go to Spain?”
“I know you’re teasing me, but no, I wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh, that’s right.” A teasing smile tugged at his lips. “You hate vacation.”
“Well, I mean, hate isn’t really the right word,” I said, remembering how David had once enticed me with visions of Bali surfing, Montauk oysters, and Swiss Alps hot-tubbing. “If you want to take me, I wouldn’t—”
“Believe me, gorgeous, you will not hate our vacation. I do want to take you to Spain, and very soon.”
“I’d love that,” I said. “If I could ever get the time off.”
“Don’t you have vacation days?”
Cityscape Affair Series: The Complete Box Set Page 77