by J. Saman
“What? You don’t approve?” My tone is clipped. Even I can hear it.
Her head snaps over to mine with wide eyes. “Oh. No, it’s great.” She doesn’t mean it. I know she thinks it’s beautiful here, but all of this luxury just isn’t her.
“Do you want to stay somewhere else?” My voice softens.
“No, this is fabulous.” She reaches over for my hand now that we’re parked in the valet area. “Thank you for seeing to all of this.” She leans in to kiss me and then looks at me with a shy smile. “Do we have plans for tonight?” Her teeth sink into her lip, her eyes apprehensive.
We do have plans for tonight, but it’s just dinner and judging by the look in her eyes, I’m happily canceling it. “Nothing important. What did you have in mind?”
“I sort of got us Dodgers tickets.”
I smile, because how fucking cute is she? “Sort of?”
“Well, yes, I got us tickets. It’s the last game of the regular season.”
She’s trying to make me happy, knowing how much I love baseball. Trying to make whatever this bullshit tension I’ve created between us less.
“That sounds great. I can’t wait.” I lean in and kiss her lips, her nose, her cheeks. “Thank you for doing that for me.”
She beams, squeezing my hand before stepping out of the car. I check us into our overly posh suite, but we don’t have a lot of downtime before we have to head back out to the game. The hotel arranges a car service for us, since driving in LA suck and neither one of us wants to deal with it.
We arrive at the stadium, procure our tickets and make it to our seats—right behind home plate—as they’re singing the national anthem. The park is crowded and as I sit down, I get the buzz that you only get from watching professional sports live.
This was the perfect idea and I’m so glad that she did this.
Another night of being dressed up and going to an expensive dinner seems over the top. And that’s certainly not who Katie is. She’s down-to-earth and easy going.
How stupid am I for thinking that if I wine and dine her full of lavish things and big price tags that she’d be more inclined to stay with me? So fucking arrogant. The way to Katie’s heart is not through money. Francesca really jaded the hell out of me.
Katie doesn’t drink beer, but when the beer guy comes by, she throws her hand up in the air and orders one up. Then hands it to me. She does the same thing when the hotdog vendor approaches, though this time she gets one for herself too.
It’s the perfect night. The air is mild and just the right temperature. The crowd is into the game, despite the fact that the Dodgers are not headed to the post-season, and Katie is even heckling the umpire over a bad strike call.
I want to freeze-frame this moment and hold onto it.
Katie is able to stay in the moment. To live in it. At least that seems to be the way she’s been doing things for the last few days.
Me? I’m trying. Trying like hell actually, but it’s hard.
“Can you believe that call? That was so obviously a ball.” She’s full of ire, her eyes on the field.
“You’re adorable when you’re angry,” I lean over and kiss her cheek.
She smiles. “You’re adorable all the time,” she nudges me with her elbow. “Now shut up with the compliments and watch the damn game.” Fuck I love this woman.
And apparently I’m admitting that to myself now. Great. That should help with the in-the-moment thing.
“Yes, ma’am,” I kiss her again and then I relax into it. I drink beer, she drinks water. We eat hotdogs and ice cream, and have one of the best nights of my life—even if it’s not the Phillies playing.
The Dodgers lose, but it was still a good close game and as we sit in the back of the car, stuck in never-ending traffic, Katie takes my hand, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I was seven the first time I went to see a game in Fenway Park,” she starts, her voice distant, lost in the memory. “I thought it was the coolest place ever. My dad and I didn’t have great seats, we were high up in the bleachers, but it didn’t matter. It was the whole spectacle of it, you know?” She tilts her head up to look at me and I nod, grinning down on her. “It was just…fun. Hotdogs and Cracker Jacks, and people yelling all around us. Tonight reminded me of that, so thank you for canceling whatever incredible thing you had planned for us so we could go.”
“Katie, in case you’ve missed it, I’d do anything for you.”
She smiles, snuggling into me, silent for a few moments before she speaks again. “Eric hated sports,” she laughs lightly like this amuses her. “We were the odd couple like that, because I love them. On Sundays in the fall, if I wasn’t working, he’d take Maggie out for the day and I’d sit around watching football,” she snorts. “He wouldn’t even get into the Super Bowl when the Patriots were playing.” She angles her head up to me again with an incredulous look. “What kind of guy doesn’t like the Super Bowl?” It’s a rhetorical question, so I don’t answer. “He and I were so well-matched with some things, and so at odds with others.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say something about Eric that didn’t include him being flawless. It’s hardly disparaging, but it’s certainly different for her.
She sighs, tightening her grasp on my hand.
“He was not the best driver, either,” she says after another quiet beat.
And this comment surprises me completely. I know he died in a car accident, but I was under the impression that it wasn’t his fault. Maybe I was wrong.
“He always got speeding tickets. Had a lead foot that would not be thwarted. I always worried whenever he’d drive Maggie around. I used to tease him that he’d die in a car accident.” She’s laughing, but it’s the saddest laugh I’ve ever heard and my heart breaks for her. “It was a drunk driver. Did you know that?”
I shake my head, relieved somehow that Eric didn’t cause the accident. I don’t know why really, but I am.
“The driver walked away with only a two-inch laceration to his forehead. He was in the ED at the same time that they were working on Maggie.”
Jesus, I can’t even imagine. I find myself pulling her closer into me, holding her tighter.
“I can’t forgive him, Ryan,” she whispers like this admission somehow makes her a bad person. “It was his third DUI that he got caught for. He had a penchant for going to the bar and getting himself good and drunk before driving home. He left the bar that evening earlier than normal, and slammed into the side of Eric’s car, going over sixty in a thirty-five zone, after running the red light. His blood alcohol was three times the legal limit.”
My eyes slam shut and my breath stalls in my chest. My insides are on fire, anger being the most prominent emotion swirling inside of me. My parents are alcoholics, but they’ve never hurt anyone—other than themselves—or driven drunk as far as I know.
Would I be able to forgive them if they had?
“He emailed me this morning. The driver.” She looks up at me, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “He served four months in jail and was forced to go to rehab for a month. He also lost his license for an additional six months. That’s it. He killed a husband, a father, and child, and that’s all he got. He’s out free and they’re gone forever.”
I pull her onto my lap. She’s sitting sideways, her head resting on my chest.
“In the email, he asked for my forgiveness. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him, including after it happened. I never even got an apology. Nothing. And now he sends this via email and asks for me to absolve him of his sins. I don’t even know how he got my email.”
I don’t know what to say to her. I wish I was one of those people who always knew the right thing to say. Who could spew out sage words of wisdom, and anecdotes, and bullshit that would turn her world into sunshine and fairies. But I’m not one of those people, so I just wrap my arms around her and hold her as close as I can so she knows she’s no
t alone.
“I always thought I was a forgiving person, and truth be told, I haven’t given the fucking prick much thought over the years. But now he’s invaded my world once again, and I can’t forgive him, Ryan. I can’t.”
She pulls back to look at me with such heartbreaking grief in her expression.
“Does that make me a bad person?”
“Katie, my sweetheart, the mere fact that you’re even worried about that shows that you’re not. I’m not sure many people could ever truly forgive someone who not only did that to their family, but showed such little remorse in doing it.”
She sighs heavily into my chest, my fingers gliding down the back of her silky waves. I know we’re getting closer and closer to our hotel, but I don’t want to let her go until I know she’s not berating herself over this.
That she’s not letting it consume her.
“I don’t hate him, Ryan, though a huge part of me wants to. But I still want to find him and beat the shit out of him for all the life he wasted. For the future he took away from Maggie, Eric, and I.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad person either, you know? It makes you human.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I feel like I should be further along with the stages by now. I keep bouncing back and forth between anger and depression. Bargaining I feel like I hit and passed, but acceptance is like a million miles off.”
I can’t offer much, but I can tell her the truth that I’ve been holding back for fear of her reaction. “Katie, if I was Eric, I would want you to find that acceptance. A guy who spent his whole life loving you the way he did, doesn’t want you to be like that. He’d want you to be happy and live your life to its fullest.”
She’s silent for another minute as we pull up to the hotel. “I know he would, Ryan. I know that. But knowing something and being able to do it are sometimes two very different things.”
She climbs off my lap and hops out of the car, but instead of walking away like I expect her to, she waits for me, reaching out her hand for me to take. Our fingers intertwine and she grins up at me.
By the time we’re thirty seconds into our room, she’s naked and so am I. I’m devouring her, unable to get close enough. To taste enough. To kiss enough.
“More,” she whispers, and I can only oblige, because I want the same exact thing.
She’s so incredible. From her amazingly soft, yet firm, large breasts, to her slender waist and curvy hips. Don’t even get me started on her other deliciously marvelous parts, because I swear I could write a fucking sonnet about them.
Katie is my dream girl. My goddess, and I am worshiping at her altar.
Hours later—and I do mean hours—we’re both lying in bed, facing each other with only a sheet covering our bare skin. We’re smiling and talking and laughing. I’m in heaven because nothing has ever been this good. Ever.
“Tell me about the first girl you kissed,” she asks with her devilish smile.
We’ve been playing this game for a while now, and so far, I’ve told her about the time I broke my wrist skateboarding, and the time Kyle punched me in the face and broke my nose for taking his Xbox. She’s told me some stuff too, but nothing too revealing. I fully intend to change that.
“The first girl I kissed was Jessica Higgins. I was eleven and she was thirteen. It was behind the big tree in my backyard on a dare. Her dare.”
“Really?” she raises an eyebrow, like I’m a master seducer. “A player even at eleven.”
I laugh lightly, leaning forward to kiss her lips. I do that every time she says something adorable, which is often. “
Was it good?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Sure. For a first kiss that had no tongue and lasted all of three seconds.”
She laughs, biting her lip to try and hide her smile. That may in fact be my favorite of her smiles. “Your turn. Was Eric your first kiss?” I’ve mentioned Eric a few times and so has she, but it has been in a happy context.
That’s what I want for her. To talk about Eric with a smile attached to her face and through happy memories.
“Yes, but he almost wasn’t. Eric and I had gone out for our first ice cream date and then on another to the movies, but all we had done was hold hands. So we went to a birthday party at my friend Sam’s house, and of course the boys wanted to play spin the bottle.” She’s smiling big, her eyes are sparkling and a little distant, loving the hell out of this story. “So Sam spun the bottle and it landed on me. It was a half-assed attempt at a spin and everyone knew it. He wanted it to land on me and as he got closer to me with his big, shit-eating grin, Eric blew up.”
“What do you mean?”
She laughs, resting her head on her tucked hands. “He started yelling before Sam got close enough to kiss me. Claimed that Sam cheated—which he had—and that he should have had to spin the bottle for real and see where it landed,” she laughs again. “Sam wasn’t having that at all, and the two of them got into it. My friend Chrissy—who liked Sam—was agreeing with Eric that Sam should re-spin, and so it went. Finally, Eric got really angry and decided to leave. I got up and left with him, and on our walk home he apologized. Told me that the reason he was so upset was because he wanted to be my first kiss. So I stopped him in the middle of the street and kissed him.”
“Wow. That’s a really good story.”
“Yeah. It was,” she sighs heavily. “Thank you for letting me share it with you.”
“Katie, baby, I don’t mind you telling me about him. Eric and Maggie were the biggest part of your life, though I technically did meet you first.” I raise an eyebrow, but am smiling so she knows I’m kidding.
“Is that so? Well then,” she pushes me onto my back and climbs on top, chest to chest, her face inches from mine. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m in bed with you then. I’d hate to ever be with a man that I haven’t known my entire life.”
“Sarcasm will get you nowhere.” My fingers slide up the sides of her body, across her silky skin.
“Really?” She rolls her hips against me. “It feels to me like I’m getting somewhere.” Her hand glides down my stomach to grip me.
“Fuck,” I hiss out, my head tipping back onto the pillow. “Jesus Katie, what are you doing to me?”
“I should think that is fairly obvious, Mr. Grant.” God, I love it when she calls me that. “But since I assume you were being rhetorical; I’d like to show you just what I want to do to you.”
She kisses me chastely before lowering herself down my body and settling between my legs. Katie’s mouth is like fucking magic. Katie is fucking magic. She puts her whole heart and soul into everything she does, and sex is no different. I can honestly say I’ve never been with another woman like her and I hope to never be again.
She’s it for me, she just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter 20
Kate
We spend the entire next day doing the typical tourist bullshit all over LA. It’s a cool city, but the smog and the traffic and congestion make it not for me. I couldn’t see myself living here. I’m all for a city, but something smaller and more intimate is what I have in mind. Something less dirty and polluted too.
We end up at some trendy Hollywood hot spot for dinner that Ryan says his assistant Claire—who I found out made all of our reservations—says is a good place for spotting celebs.
Not my thing.
I figure they’re people who are just trying to go out and eat a meal like everyone else, but whatever.
Ryan is all over me. His distant mood forgotten once again. I swear his mood swings can be worse than a teenager’s.
The restaurant is all low lighting with elegantly appointed tables, topped with white linens and fuchsia roses. Every woman here is gorgeous, tall, very thin, and showing more skin than I think I’ve ever seen—and I’m a nurse. The men aren’t so bad either, and while my eyes haven’t stopped scanning the room of beautiful people, Ryan hasn’t taken his off me.
&n
bsp; Swoon.
Ryan is wearing his dark gray pants, a black button-down, and the new gray fedora we bought today. Holy hell, can this man rock a hat. His dark hair is sticking out from the bottom and his whole look says dark, sexy and mysterious, especially with the beard and glasses. He’s definitely getting checked out by the local fanfare here, and I can’t say I blame them.
His hands are gliding up and down my bare legs. Apparently he’s got a thing for my legs, because he bought me yet another dress, despite my protests, and it’s very short. So short I have to cross my legs the second I sit down or everyone in this restaurant is going to get a show.
Our food comes and tonight I ordered lamb, since both Ryan and our waitress talked me out of the chicken.
“We have two options for tonight after dinner.”
“Oh lord,” I roll my eyes dramatically, earning me a pinch in the ribs. “Ah.” I slap his hand away, making him chuckle and kiss the side of my head. “What are our two options, Master?”
“Is it wrong that I love that you just called me master? I think I might have to implement that into our bedroom activities tonight.”
I snort. “Bedroom activities? What are you, seventy? You can say sex or fucking, or even lovemaking if you want to be totally cheesy about it.”
“Fine.” He leans in right up to my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my skin. “I’m going to tie you up and make you call me master, while I spank your ass red before I fuck you into tomorrow. How’s that?”
I flush. It only took like two seconds too. “That sounds like something we could try, Master,” I wink at him and he presses his lips to mine with a fierce kiss that leaves me breathless.
“Now as I was saying, slave girl,” he raises an eyebrow at me and I can’t help but laugh. Ryan leans forward, placing his elbow on the table and propping his head up with his hand. “We have two options for after dinner. One, we could go to the beach and walk around, or we could go to a club that Claire got us passes for.”